Free Rabbi Gabrielle's Defiance by Roger Herst Page A

daughter-in-law
angered Angus Klein.
    Asa tugged at Gabby's arm – teams of
physicians in loose-fitting blue surgical gowns were marching
through double doors of the ICU, conversing with each other in
muted voices. Their smooth, purposeful steps conveyed professional
ease. He said to Gabby, "I'm tired of this bullshit. You can go
anywhere in this hospital with a blue gown and a clipboard. I'm
going in."
    She shifted weight from her injured hip
before studying him as though a painting on exhibition. "It's my
job. You've already put in time, Asa." She turned to a plump nurse
in a flowered gown flapping like an unbuttoned overcoat who trailed
the physicians. "I'm Rabbi Lewyn. Can you please update us about
the Morgenstern girls?"
The nurse regarded the question as an
unnecessary intrusion into her business, yet sounded empathetic.
From a repertoire of canned responses employed with nervous family
asking too many questions about the patients, she said, "If there's
anything that can be done, we'll do it. Don't you worry about
that."
    "Of course. May I enter?"
The nurse
hesitated. Clergy often frequented the ICU, sometimes as valuable
partners with the medical staff. But when Janean's life hung in the
balance, she failed to think of how a clergywoman might be of
assistance.
    Uncle Angus Klein marched into the corridor
to stop Gabby, but Asa blocked him with classic basketball
pick-and-roll footwork.
    Unhappy about being outflanked, Angus
bellowed through the corridor. "Rabbi. Leave us alone. If you
persist, I'll call hospital security."
    "That's not your decision," Asa responded.
"We're all on the same side here. Please don't interfere with
us."
    Trudy Klein joined her husband in pursuit.
"The family is coping with a lot of pain. I beseech you both,
please don't add to it."
    "I'm sorry you feel that way," Gabby invested
one last effort to diffuse the conflict. "We have no desire to
cause injury. Now please..." She left the sentence dangling. What
was the purpose? Only a stainless steel door barred entry to the
ICU.
    The ICU consisted of a glass-partitioned nursing
station surrounded on four sides by individual treatment and
examination rooms. To Gabby's left extended a debridement theater
for removing destroyed skin from burn victims and, to her right, a
larger clinic with huge stainless steel Hubbard tanks for sterile
baths. Like jungle vines, a matrix of pulleys and lifts to maneuver
patients dangled from the ceiling. Near the nursing station, a
bearded physician in a faded green gown and white surgical shoes
was talking to Laura Morgenstern, whose eyes were staring
motionless over his shoulder as if too exhausted to refocus. Behind
them, Gabby regarded medical personnel adjusting respiratory
devices and intravenous bottles in a glass paneled treatment
room.
    As Gabby stepped forward to greet Laura, her
eyes caught sight of a child in a neighboring room. Sterile
dressings covered the entire face, except for portals for the
mouth, nose and eyes. Could this be Tybee? she wondered, tempted to
walk over for a closer look. But after a half-dozen steps she
elected to first talk with Laura.
    At the same moment, David Morgenstern exited
from another treatment room to confer with his wife. His features
seemed lost in a bog of unshaven whiskers. Laura turned from the
physician to gather him near.
    "You can hear our baby wheezing," he cried in
a heavy, broken voice. "She's leaving us, Laur… I know it. God be
my witness: I want our daughter, but I can't bear to see her suffer
like this." 
Gabby stood in place, giving the parents time for
their sorrow. The mother's eyes eventually encompassed her, quickly
communicating hatred.
    Recognition came to David a moment later.
"You? You?" he addressed Gabby in a biting tone, "after what you've
done to us!"
    "I understand how you feel, David," Gabby
replied. "I've come to recite prayers for Janean and Tybee.
Whatever you may think of me or my associate, your children deserve
God's attention. I