Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #148
…It is funny how you can feel like a donkey one minute and a thoroughbred the next (or going from the outhouse to the penthouse)…
After removing the tail from between his legs, young Ferrell enters the other world where he is not exactly the master of; through magnificent oak doors and past splendid mahogany furniture – vacant of a single voting rights supporter at Beacon Hill Partners.
Norma, the legal secretary who never seems to leave the office and knows more about everyone than they are comfortable with, gives him a message: “Your wife just called Mr. Ferrell. She said to bring home fresh eggs for breakfast and you know how she likes them. Sunnyside-up?” she asks. He nods. “I knew it. She looks like a sunny person.”
“Oh, you bet,” he agrees sarcastically.
“Problems in Camelot? Maybe Mr. Hamilton can brighten your gloomy day. He wants to see you in his office.”
‘Swell,’ he thinks out loud. Interns make little money and does the grunt work. They look at the Pearson-Eastman project as a bonus, usually not entrusted to interns for sure. They probably want him to deliver a summons to some drunken sailor down at Boston Harbor.
“Good day, James,” begins the sternest looking lawyer ever to be found, short of the Supreme Court.
James? He has always called him, Mr. Ferrell. Surely the other shoe is going to drop.
“Sit down. Have a chocolate.” James accepts a bonbon from the jar, afraid to say no. “Your wife telephoned us; just before you arrived I would say. She told me that you forgot the papers from the United States Patent Office at your apartment, says they pertained to your Pearson-Eastman deal.
“I must say, James, you are a step ahead of the rest of us. Fine work. To save you time, I had Norma type you up a copy.” He hands the quadruplicate forms to a dumbfounded young man.
“I will send them by courier to Rochester, sir.” He recovers his senses in time to take advantage of his wife’s peace offering, however much a half-truth it may have been. It is funny how you can feel like a donkey one minute and a thoroughbred the next (or going from the outhouse to the penthouse).
“No, I think it would be prudent to take them to New York personally, far too important to be left to strangers. They would like to have the first issue hit the newsstands January the first, which leaves but a month and a half. We can help them by taking the pain out of the paperwork.
“Norma?” barrister Hamilton commands the magic of the black box on his desk that, if it were not in an office, could serve as shelter for a family of four, “would you book a Pullman car to Rochester, New York for tomorrow.”
“Mr. Hamilton, I have classes this week. If I miss them I may fall behind,” young Ferrell declares reluctantly.
“Behind? My son, you are quite ahead, I must say.” Hamilton is more frank than ten normal people combined. “I will run out to Cambridge and take care of that matter. Don’t you worry, son, you stand to learn more here with us than out of those boring lectures.
“And I will tell the Harvard library that your lovely wife will be out of town as well. She sounds like a valuable personal asset to you – if for no other reason than keeping track of the papers.
“We are going to put a wrap deal up with a tidy bow.”