Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #78

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Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #78

…My son is in love with my adopted daughter, my daughter is in love with her brother, my invincible brother has been murdered by some cruel force in a far off harbor and I fear my husband has been lying to me for God knows how long… I do not wish to continue…

Southern Lady-001

John Ferrell looks over his shoulder to see for himself and reads further. It describes the horrific events of two days earlier, equally taken aback…

USS Maine explodes on February 15, 1898. Public Domain the some 260 deaths reported. Reports of Maine survivors vary, but with an original crew of 325, one can rely on math and the missing list to fill in the blanks. Two of the four officers are dead and they know the Captain did not go down with his ship.

“Martha dear, we should not assume the worst,” encourages a comforting spouse, knowing Maynard is almost always topside.

So much for a perfect world, as it relates to John Ferrell. The last remaining thread in his wife’s hem seam seems to have unraveled. Brother Maynard has exited her reality, leaving no North American Gaskel left to commiserate with. So fragile is her current state of mind that the very prospect of Maynard’s demise searches out the darkest most recesses of a heretofore dormant state of consciousness.

hell_hath_no_fury“My son is in love with my adopted daughter,” she states without hesitation. “My daughter is in love with her brother.” There is a good measure of regret in her voice. “My invincible brother has been murdered by some cruel force in a far off harbor.” Tears are streaming from her heart. “And I fear my husband has been lying to me for God knows how long… I do not wish to continue. Please take me home, my Lord and my God, to the peace and quiet of heaven.” Martha Gaskell Ferrell retires to the foyer settee, to take rest from all the dizzying concerns.

John plays second base for the amateur baseball team in Tallahassee, the Panhandlers. Back in 1890, they played the Cincinnati Red Stockings, a professional team from the National League of baseball, in a spring exhibition game. The unpolished laymen played a spirited game, but still came out on the low end of a 15 to 7 score.-


–It now appears his wife has taken up the sport, at such a late age. Her undoing has come from deep left field.

Just like the coward that lurks in the soul of every man, John Ferrell of the unsavory list Martha had spewed, acts as if he does not hear a thing. “Let me get you a moist towel for your forehead, dearest.” He had been witness to a similar sudden brush with reality when his adopted daughter recognized Willy Campbell, a horrifying piece of her sorted past, in November of last year. Shock surely triggers a process that exhumes buried or repressed memory. In Abbey’s case, her perception, no matter how skewed, is her reality. Martha, on the other hand, could not be more correct.

“I am going back to town and try to contact the Navy. James will be home from school soon. Let me take you upstairs. You should rest a while.” His only chance to save face is to divert her attention, refocusing on matters concerning brother Maynard.

The late afternoon trip back to Tallahassee will not be necessary. There is a report from the heavy brass knocker on the front door. John responds to the unknown beckoning, to find a Western Union agent with a message labeled for Martha, sent by the Department of the scorned-001Navy. He signs for the cable in her stead, fumbling through his pockets for a proper gratuity for the likely grim messenger.

Martha views the note without outward expression. Her manner is cold and calculating, withdrawing to catatonic solitude.

Alpha Omega M.D.

“Have you heard about poor Martha Ferrell?”

Episode #78

page 71 (end Ch. 4)

Constance Caraway P.I. ~ Episode 68

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Constance Caraway P.I. ~ Episode 68

…If “they” find out that he (Willard Libby) is still alive, all hell may break loose…

A Newly minted 1951 has brought with it what is referred to as a “January thaw” to the greater Chicago area. Instead of temperatures at or below zero, which only encourages any accumulated snow to stay put, 40+ degrees Fahrenheit is a welcome respite, a peek at what the coming spring will bring, later if not sooner.

The orchestrated sounds, from inside the grand Cadillac Theatre and Palmer House Hotel, have wafted away by now, so it is back to work in the bizarre case of the formerly missing Willard Libby. Constance Caraway Private Investigation has had a front seat to nearly all the newest developments and its amazing fluidity. There is a new twist around every corner and merely keeping everything straight is a chore.

Martin Kamen has been in daily contact with Superintendent Steinberg. He reports that Libby has been elevated from Stage Two Catatonia to garden variety incoherent, making it back to one word accomplishments; “bell” has been deciphered during fits of frustrated attempts at cogent communication.

With little hope of Willard making significant progress, Martin decides that between William and him, they can care for the man just as well, with the help of a nursing school intern or three.

“This all must remain hush-hush Martin, so we’ll have to do this in the dark of night, sometime after “lights out” and before “rise and shine”. You tell me that no one has inquired about his condition?” Connie asks.

“I must admit this to you,” Martin but not before sheepishly qualifying himself, “I had Elgin Hospital issue a death statement about a certain John Doe that had shown up there on December 16th, made all the papers around Cook and DuPage Counties. Just in case I have written an obituary as well.

Related image“I did not want to bother you and Fanny, though we’re not totally in the clear, I know. I also got a message to his Aunt Mary Joseph at Tolentine, letting her know that Willard has been located and that we would keep her informed. She is as elated as a nun can get.”

Mr. Beaker

“She won’t blab will she?” Constance stresses the need for absolute secrecy. “If “they” find out that he is still alive, all hell may break loose — and I mean that quite literally.”

“She seemed more concerned about the death of Ernesto Pacelli; she had found out that he was the Pope’s brother, not exactly a gold star for Tolentine. But she is keenly aware of what’s at stake; she has even taken in Will’s cat, Mr. Beaker.”

Constance Caraway P.I.

Forever Mastadon

page 65


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“And at this point, spacey didn’t even begin to describe it – she was catatonic without the commitment.”

― Mishna WolffI’m Down

William Shakespeare
“Macbeth: How does your patient, doctor?Doctor: Not so sick, my lord, as she is troubled with thick-coming fancies that keep her from rest.Macbeth: Cure her of that! Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, raze out the written troubles of the brain, and with some sweet oblivious antidote cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff which weighs upon her heart.

Doctor: Therein the patient must minister to himself.”

― William ShakespeareMacbeth

C.G. Jung

“About a third of my cases are suffering from no clinically definable neurosis, but from the senselessness and emptiness of their lives. This can be defined as the general neurosis of our times.”

― C.G. Jung