Cornucopia by Melanie Jackson Read Free Book Online Page B

business to let the woman out.
    Once Mrs. Snelling was out the door, the doctor turned to consider me. Then he looked down to Blue who was sitting at my feet.
    “Why, you brought your dog,” he noted with some annoyance.
    “I surrey,” I replied.
    “Well, I suppose the animal can stay here in the waiting room while I work on you.”
    I led Blue to a corner and tried to tell her to sit. Unfortunately, my slurred speech made it sound like I was ordering her to do something objectionable. Through hand gestures, I finally got my point across and Blue lay down to wait. I followed the doctor through the door and down a short hall to his examining room. Along the way, I noted that the receptionist desk had been decorated for the Christmas holidays—undoubtedly Margie’s hand at work. Her desk was also conspicuously empty.
    “Where’s Margie?” the dentist heard me say.
    “She didn’t show up for work today,” Dr. Bester explained.
    “Huh, that’s odd,” I observed.
    I knew that Margie had seemed stressed of late. She had hinted to me that she was unhappy with her work, but she wasn’t one to shirk responsibility. At least I hoped she wasn’t.
    “I hope she’s still making the cupcakes. I’d hate to show up at the party with Santa’s sleigh and have no cupcakes to go with it.”
    “I’m sure. Now please, have a seat.”
    My entire head was throbbing now but still I felt the need to speak. You see, dentists’ offices make me nervous as do dentists themselves. I’m afraid of both huge needles and drills. Dentists possess them both. To me a dentist’s office looks like a modern-day torture chamber, which I suppose it is. And when I get nervous, I need to talk. A lot. It didn’t matter that my head felt like it was about to explode, I needed to either talk or run screaming from the office. Talking allowed me to sit in the dentist chair and spin my legs into place so that I could recline.
    “My, what a comfortable chair. A chair like this must have been really expensive. I wish I had one of these at home to relax in. Of course, I’d have to fight with Alex for it.”
    The doctor took a seat on a rolling stool and clipped a bib around my neck. Then he pressed a button and the couch I was on reclined further.
    “ Whee !” I exclaimed nervously.
    “Now, open wide and let’s see what we have here,” Dr. Bester instructed.
    The doctor flipped on a blazing white-hot spotlight, like the type Nazis and the CIA use for interrogations, and shined it at my face. Next he rolled a set of instruments that clattered in their metal tray to his side. He donned a baby blue paper hat, mask, and gloves before he picked up a huge metal pick and prepared to begin digging around in my mouth. The instrument glinted in the glare of the overhead light. At the sight of the spike in his hand headed toward my face I felt the immediate need to say something.
    “It’s strange that Margie didn’t show up for work today,” I mumbled in dental patient speak.
    The dentist paused and looked me in the eyes as he considered my words. Though I could see only a portion of his face, what I could see of his expression showed concern.
    “Why do you say that?” he asked in a curious tone.
    “I’m just saying she’s a very responsible person. Do you know of any reason she might have been unhappy at work lately?”
    “No,” was the terse response I received. “Now, open your mouth wide.”
    Icepick in hand, the dentist descended into my mouth. I was afraid that I was going to choke on my own saliva, but then he stopped and inserted a small vacuum cleaner nozzle that made loud slurping noises. The saliva taken care of, he was back in my mouth again.
    “Oh yes,” he said, “this is bad. You’ve broken your upper right second molar clean in half. You said that you did this biting into a metal plate in your sandwich?”
    “Uh-huh,” was all I could manage.
    “That’s terrible.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “Are you in