Free Margaret's Ark by Daniel G Keohane Page B

lids dropped closed. Maybe the Salvation folks left him some decent socks to go with the shoes.
     
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    Neha checked on the vagrant one final time before she left for the night. Not in person – she'd had her fill of that one. But she stopped at the night desk to verify his wake-up schedule, every two hours, and sign off on his progress. There were other forms to fill out, including one for a transfer to McLean if the need arose. She had signed it, but would wait before acting on it to see how the guy behaved overnight. In either case, it was painfully obvious his visit to Forest Grove would end up being courtesy of the Commonwealth.
    That was to be expected. He was Jack Lowry, after all. Unwitting celebrity from one of Boston’s darkest moments in recent history – something that had happened two years ago. A moment that destroyed his life and permanently damaged his mind, psychologically as well as physically. She’d lingered a while, holding the transfer form. It would be best for him, but Neha worried about her reasons for filling out the committal form – worried it might have more to do with the vague connection she’d made between him and her own husband earlier. She left the form in his folder, and would sleep on it tonight.
    The drive out of Boston was uneventful. Suresh didn't care for her hours, but she never heard him complain when the paycheck hit their account. Already it was almost on par with the pay from his programmer's job. He'd be patient. She'd only been at the hospital three years since beginning her residency. Suresh expected his wife to eventually settle into a comfortable practice with a more human schedule. Maybe at an HMO. Something to bring her home for supper every day. Neha would let him pretend, if that made him happy.
    She enjoyed too much the dynamics of hospital life. The constant motion of people made her feel part of something bigger than herself. Caught up in the storm. Having an office of her own in some nondescript building meant hearing the ticking of the clock, watching dust settle in the light. An image that festered in the back of her mind every time Suresh mentioned how nice it would be when things settled down.
    Of course a regular schedule, a routine , left open the option for children. Something neither of them talked much about, a silent agreement that raising a family was not part of either’s short-term goals. Unlike Neha’s sister, also living in the United States but with two children already. Neha was content to be the doting aunt whenever she had the time, which was rare. From the beginning, Suresh seemed the perfect match for her. Breaking tradition, she had made it a point to question him at their second meeting once they were left alone by their parents. He was concerned with getting his own career on track, more so than planning for children. One factor she hadn't counted on, however, was the influence of his mother and grandmother from the other side of the world. Subtle questions in their letters and emails. How are things with the two of you? Anything interesting planned? Any news to tell us? Neha would roll her eyes when Suresh relayed these questions, but lately she'd seen something new in his gaze when he read the notes, saw the furtive glances across the room after taking an overseas phone call. Doubt, perhaps. Fear of dishonor.
    Route 128 was pleasantly un-congested as she pulled onto Winn Street from the off-ramp. She'd called her husband before leaving. He’d sounded normal enough, no talk of dreams. With these few days behind them, he'd come to the realization that it was only a dream and nothing more.
    She'd never known Suresh to take to such fancies, and the fact that he was so shaken by the nightmare made Neha uneasy. Then, a snippet on a talk radio show on WBZ this morning, a half-caught conversation as she passed the break room. She had let these fragments swirl about her mind, then quickly discarded them, was only