Free Doctors by Erich Segal Page B

delivered the penicillin himself, never giving the slightest hint of where he was going.
    There were less than fifteen minutes before closing time and Mr. Lowenstein was already locking up the dangerous drugs when Barney approached him and asked if he had a moment to chat. “Sure, Barney, what’s on your mind? If it’s a raise, you can relax. I was planning on giving you one next month.”
    “No, no,” he replied quickly, “it’s about a certain problem.”
    “What kind of problem?”
    “Well—uh—” he hesitated and then blurted quickly, “a girl I know is in trouble.”
    The old man studied Barney’s face and murmured, “And do I take it you’re the gentleman concerned in this unfortunate business?”
    Barney nodded.
    “This is terrible,” the pharmacist said, but without anger. “What do you think we sell contraceptives for? Young people, if they want to get mixed up in this sort of thing, they should at least take the proper precautions. To be frank, Barney, I’m very surprised at you.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    There was a pause as neither seemed to know whose turn it was to speak.
    Finally Barney brought himself to ask, “Is there any way you can help me, Mr. Lowenstein? Believe me, I’m ashamed to be asking you, but she’s desperate—I mean, we both are. I don’t want her to go to some back-alley butcher. That would be risking her life.” He then felt terribly uncomfortable and apologized, “I suppose it was wrong to talk to you about this.”
    The pharmacist sighed. “Barney, what was wrong was getting this young woman in trouble. But if for some reason the two of you can’t get married—and at your age that seems like the case—I suppose you have to take the other alternative. Mind you, I don’t know whether it’s right. I’m not God. But I’ll give you what help I can.”
    A feeling of enormous relief swept over Barney. He wanted to throw his arms around the old man.
    “Lock the store and come into the office,” his boss commanded.
    Barney hurriedly obeyed and entered the pharmacist’s cubicle. He was writing a telephone number on a small index card.
    “Don’t ask me how I know this,” he cautioned, “but from what I hear, this man is extremely careful. He even prescribes post-operative antibiotics just to be on the safe side.”
    Barney studied the card. “Dr. N. Albritton—in Pennsylvania?”
    His employer shrugged. “It’s the best I can do, my boy, I’m told he sees patients on weekends, so that would make it a little easier. More I cannot give you. So?”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “So, do you intend to make such a call from your own home? Sit down and do it here.”
    As Mr. Lowenstein tactfully left the room, Barney, in a state of mild shock, dialed the long-distance operator and asked for a number in Chester, Pennsylvania. A few moments later, heheard the doctor’s calm voice wishing him a good evening. Now came the hard part.
    He tried to pour out his problem as quickly as possible while still being vague enough to protect Laura’s identity. But the physician did not seem to want many details.
    “I believe I understand the nature of the case. Would it be convenient for you to visit my clinic this Saturday morning? It’s just outside Philadelphia.”
    “Sure, sure, of course. We’ll be there any time you like.”
    “Well, let’s say eleven, shall we?”
    “Yessir, yessir, absolutely. Thanks a lot.”
    But the conversation was not over. “Mr. Smith, I assume you are aware of my fee.”
    “No, no, but we’ll bring the money, don’t worry. Uh, exactly how much is it?”
    “Four hundred dollars. Cash, of course.”
    Barney was speechless.
    Finally, the physician’s voice asked politely, “Does that change anything, Mr. Smith?”
    “No, no, no, that’s fine,” Barney hoarsely replied.
    As soon as Mr. Lowenstein returned, they tossed on their coats and left through the back door.
    Barney was overflowing with gratitude. He turned to his employer and said