Free Weapon of Choice by Patricia Gussin Page B

that the colored woman in your department was going to be your
boss
? A colored person might be telling
you
what to do?”
    Her hands dropped the monogrammed linen napkin and started fidgeting. Turning to Father, she said, “Chas, darling, you have to do something. Use your influence at the CDC. Our son has a medical degree and a Ph.D. from Emory University. Get this substandard person out of there. Fired, transferred, anything. I can’t bear the thought of our own son ordered around by a colored person. Everything we’ve worked for, everything that my parents and yours stood for—the Scarletts’ long history of patriotism and devotion to this country.”
    Charles had never mentioned to his parents that Stacy trained at Harvard. Not that Harvard was better than Emory—certainly not in their minds.
    â€œSon,” Scarlett senior said, “I don’t know if I can get this turned around or not. You know what’s going on. First Maynard Jackson, now Andrew Young. Black mayors in the city of Atlanta. That black man, Julian Bond, getting the Bill of Rights Award from the ACLU.The law firm’s always getting pressure to support one Negro cause or another. Maybe if I’d known about this woman’s promotion before it happened, but we’re dealing with the federal government. You said it’s been announced?”
    Charles had known how this news would go down. “Yes,” he admitted, almost doubling over with the familiar, sinking burden of his parents’ shame, “it has.” He carried that weight every day, wore it like a mantle, but at times like these, it felt utterly crushing.
    â€œCharles, you are a white person.” His father seethed, his face turning beet red. “Non-white people must come under you. Automatically and always and in every circumstance. Do you recall nothing of the convention last year? Dr. Pierce recruited you, personally, to protect the world for white children.”
    Charles suddenly had the resolve to speak up to the old man. The time had come. He’d intended to keep quiet about the plan that he’d been formulating. But now that Stacy had been promoted over him, he found the nerve.
Yes, Father, I will do my part. You’ll see
. “Father, I can’t tell you what I’m doing for The Order.” he said. “It’s that secret, but I can promise you that what I do will make a difference. A major difference.”
    â€œA major difference? I don’t think I can have that cigar with you tonight. I’m too riled up. A colored woman for a boss, now that is a major difference.” He shoved back his chair. “Rosabelle, I’m going to bed.”
    Mother reverted to her placating role, “He’s just upset, darling.” She hesitated, not knowing whether to follow her seething husband upstairs or stay to comfort her injured son.
    â€œI will not let him down, don’t you worry.” Charles stood at the door, not bothering to bestow upon his mother the obligatory kiss on the cheek.
    â€œHe’s just upset, darling.” She stood there in the foyer by the oversized floral arrangement.
    Charles let himself out the paneled mahogany door and began the three-block walk through the elegant Buckhead neighborhood to his own home.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
    W EDNESDAY , N OVEMBER 27
    As the staff gathered for rounds, Laura noted that all eight beds in the surgical Intensive Care Unit were occupied this day before Thanksgiving. Unusual, since elective procedures were usually postponed right before a holiday. The charge nurse explained that the medical ICU was overloaded and they had to take the overflow.
    â€œToo bad,” Laura said. “We all need a break and that’s not going to happen for you here.”
    Laura joined her chief resident, observing as Michelle adroitly organized the group of medical students, surgical residents, and attending surgeons. The rounding group went from bed