Chapter 6
Denial
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    Morgan Forrester never was a very good doctor.  He always seemed intent on running endless tests and never arrived at a point he could declare a definite diagnosis.  Once the insurance companies expanded the designation "terminal" to many conditions that were previously treated instead of relegating the patient into pain management, he was much better suited for hospital administration.  How he found his way to become Hospital General Manager is anyone's guess.
   In past years, Howard never paid a bit of attention when Forrester gave him his annual progress evaluation and often times, only remembered the increase in salary and none of the rambling, redundant words that poured from his mouth like a stopped-up garbage disposal.  But this time, there is a rather sheepish expression on Forrester's face, and there are no personnel records on his desk.  Without being told, Howard can predict almost the exact words Forrester will stumble through in communicating something he has been expecting, and yes fearing, for months.
   In his typical non-distinct, evasive tone, he asks Howard, "Have you ever done anything you didn't want to do?"
   Howard alternates his head from one side to the other and with a mocking smile, replies, "Pay taxes, professional liability insurance premiums and put up with the shit I've had to swallow in this hospital for years - among other things."
   Forrester avoids eye contact and seems struggling to gather what he will say next.  Finally, he says, "The same shit is causing the hospital to take some action we've been hoping to avoid.  The simple truth is that since the insurance industry put such severe limitations on elective surgery, there's been only about a 65% occupancy rate in the hospital.  I don't have to tell you many ORs are vacant much of the time and with that, we're faced with the need to reduce the number of staff surgeons."  He takes on a lecture-like quality and continues,  "Treatment of major illness has become a task of pain management and not cure.  HMOs have found in necessary to severely reduce benefits and eligible treatments.  Even at that, all these disorganized state insurance plans have put the billing department on a 24 hour overtime work schedule.  Each plan has a different billing format and much of the work can no longer be done on the computer system, because many of the programs were written by different companies that failed to provide the proper interface between subscribers.  We've had to lay off much of the maintenance staff to compensate for that and the lower occupancy rate."  Immediately, he leans forward and hurriedly says, "You were the last doctor I would have expected the board to place on leave but in evaluating who goes and who stays, there were 3 areas of consideration.  Do we need the doctor?  What is his salary level compared to the surgeries now done?  Are there younger doctors not in the same salary category who can do the same procedures with reasonable skill?  It's this idea of progressive statistics  that has seized the business world.   I tried to tell them...."
    Howard holds up his hand and waives it from side to side.  "Business?....I don't need to hear anymore.  I've been expecting this for a long time and am surprised it hasn't come before now.  I've never considered myself a businessman.  I'm supposed to be a doctor."
    Forrester is relieved and in a much more relaxed voice, says, "Let me tell you what we can do and not dwell on what we can't - or I should say what we must.  Of course, you know for many years, most hospitals have used physicians in private practice as independent consultants, calling them in on a regular schedule for diagnosis and surgery.  I know you were in private practice at one time.  How do you feel about such an arrangement?"
    "You mean like a general contractor calls in a plumber to install a toilet?"
    "I....I wouldn't put it exactly that way.  To maintain service levels, the hospital had to face some rather hard choices.  In such matters, decision is governed by fact and resultant necessity."
    Howard leans back and places his hand behind his neck.  "We've discussed service levels before, and there's no need to go into that again.  I can't tell you what I'm going to do."
    Forrester seems puzzled. "You've always been very detailed and calculating.  I'm surprised you haven't at least considered some contingencies."
    "I haven't ."  With that, Howard leaves without another word.

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    After only a few days, Howard completes his surgery schedule; and as he walks out of the hospital, there is a burning feeling of denial - not because he is "on leave" but he fears he can never continue his cancer research.  There is a group of young doctors moving at a quick pace between the professional building and hospital like they are running the 440 relay.  They're all walking so fast, their white coats are trailing behind them like Superman's cape.  He takes it they are independent contractors and during the time it takes to move from one building to the other are undergoing a transformation from private practitioners to hospital staff or resident doctors.  They hurry through the small group of plumbers unloading pvc drain pipe from several vehicles. 
    For his hospital work, Howard only feels reprieve from a system so contrary from traditional medical practice and one under which he knew he could no longer exist.  In that respect, being "on leave" is something of a parole issued only after having served a sufficient time under some sort of system that was supposed to install some new recognition of what is right and wrong and how such concerns can be related or permitted by progressive statistics.
   As he drives towards The Summit, his eyes are stationary on the street and never glance from side to side.  His face is tight in a fixed expression of mixed emotions he knows will require days to sort out.  When he stops in front of his garage, it suddenly occurs to him he hasn't considered what he will tell his wife and fully expects to see her with that same denied expression on her face both before and after anything he says to her.  The house is very quiet, and as he hangs his coat in the foyer closet, he notices all of his wife's things are gone.  There is an unsealed envelope on the lamp table; and just as he had expected to be placed on leave, he knows what is in the note before he even reads it.  His fixed eyes and tight face persist as he reads:

"We can no longer deny our marriage, if you can still call it that, ended
quite some time ago.  Refusing to admit that to ourselves can only prolong
the denial we both now feel.  Both our lives have now reached the point each
of us needs to seek out something else and not try to restore something that is
no longer there.  As for me, I have resigned my job and am now living in the
volunteers' barracks at Restoration headquarters.  I have no doubt as to the course 
 of what time I have remaining in life, and I hope in some way, you can find the purpose and
determination The Restoration has given me.  Certainly, I will always love you but love can
take on many forms, and my love now consists only of the memories of something that
was once so wonderful.  I shall always love you for giving me that.

Charlotte"

   He sits down in his chair, gazes out the window and in a strange sort or way, has the same sensation of relief as when he walked out of the hospital for what may well have been the last time.  Now, he is free of it all - free of that latent feeling of knowing he was denying his wife the happiness she deserves and free from working in a system so removed from the ideals he once had.  Some respond to denial by rebellion but still others form a new determination to regain a portion of themselves lost in a changing world.  At this moment, he cannot say which course he will follow.

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    When someone's life takes such a sudden change, emotions are often confused.  Howard remains confused as he finds himself seated in The Leader's office in something of an unofficial confession as to how he has fallen from his beliefs in recent years.  They have spoken for quite sometime, and The Leader has become progressively more annoyed at the questions Howard is asking about Restoration operations. 
     The discontent is obvious in The Leader's voice when he finally says, "You must think The Restoration is some type of little cat and dog movement to run a few television spots, scare a bunch of unwitting dupes into believing they are headed straight for Hell and convince them it can all be wiped away by sending a $25 contribution that will only be put to telling more people how sinful they are.  That's the way Protestants operate.  The whole approach is built around instilling guilt in a person's mind, collecting money and then squandering it by sending the women's club to north Georgia to look at apple blossoms.  Only look at each of the buildings on this site.  They're all being used to prepare for a number of crusades that may take some time to organize but we have definite goals beyond - how do the Protestants put it - building a stronger family and church community through prayer and worship?  I'll just tell you, some of the crusades will involve a certain amount of risk to those who chose to volunteer, and we're going to need to have a doctor with each Special Operations Group.  I'm not sure what brought you here today.  Maybe you should speak with Colonel Earnshaw and ask her to explain how The Restoration must reach beyond its street address to find those in need of quite a few things other than having their souls saved.  Someone who has lost is job or is sick and can't get the medical treatment he needs is concerned about a thing or 2 other than having his soul saved by some self-righteous pray group unwilling to do anything but pray during certain times and days during the week."
    Howard doesn't want to hear any more of The Leader's admonishment and rather loudly says, "Charlotte and I are getting a divorce."
    The Leader immediately responds, "What does that have to do with the needs of the country.  Someone who is homeless and hungry don't care if you're married or not.  His main concern is he's being ruled by denial, and he only wants to be freed from it."
    Educated people, such as Howard, dislike being told things they should already know or perhaps know but never take time to consider.  He feels the need to validate himself by some statement of self-endearment and says, "I've been concerned for the sick all my life.  That's what led me to medical practice and medical research."
    The Leader's mood immediately changes from accusatory to keen interest.  "What type of research?"
    "Cancer treatment by a means everyone feels is outdated and as they put it, 'not in agreement with prescribed pain management for the terminally ill.'''
    The leader pauses, leans back in his chair and says, "That's interesting."
    Howard sees his chance to press forward in his self-vindication and says, "I wouldn't put it that way.  I always avoided describing someone about to die as 'interesting.'"
    A smile comes to The Leader's face as he nods his head and says, "Well put....well put.  Do you know Shelton Henderson?"
    "I did some years ago.  I lost touch with him when he opened his own private hospital for fat cats who had too much money to be admitted to public hospitals or stay in them during recovery from surgery. His family was quite wealthy.  He was a skilled surgeon.  After only a few years, he made enough money on his own to get out of the system."
    The Leader tilts his head with an expression difficult to interpret.  "The system.  That's exactly how he put it when he enlisted in The Restoration.  Can you come back tomorrow at 10:00 o'clock?  There's something you need to see.  I'm going to ask Sergeant Major Buford to take you over to Henderson Hospital.  It only has 1 OR but I understand one of the best-equipped research labs in the country.  After that, we'll need to resume this discussion."

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    When Dr. Henderson left the system, it wasn't clear if he used his or his family's money to buy what was once a small hotel and turn it into a private hospital.  The renovation must have cost millions, and Howard was always sure it was ego and not concern for the sick that led him to undertake such a project.  Those words "research lab....research lab" are ringing in Howard's ears as Sergeant Major Buford turns into the hospital premises.  There a only a few cars in the parking lot but the grounds are very well-kept with pine straw and flowers here and there.  It doesn't have the dispassionate appearance of a hospital having only signs with arrows to various departments in the building. 
    Howard expected to be greeted by someone - perhaps Dr. Henderson himself but there is no one, and the Sergeant Major takes him directly to the observation room above the 1 OR in the hospital.  Henderson is in the middle of major surgery and surrounded by an obviously well-trained OR staff.  Instead of the small light worn above the eyes by most surgeons, Henderson has the old chrome disc with a whole in the center.  He adjusts it to the overhead light and carefully studies the large incision in the patient who is completely covered other than a small area above his abdomen.  There is a large tumor on the left side of the liver extending down to the walls of the large intestine where it appears to have spread to the mesenteries membrane.  Dr. Henderson probes all along the tumor before beginning a careful incision into the haustra of the large intestine.  He pauses and studies the organs before beginning another incision into the semilunar fold of the large intestine.  Again, he adjusts his eye piece, moves closer to the patient and studies the full digestive system which is completely exposed due to the large initial incision.  At such a point in his own surgery, Howard would always ask for the opinion of one of the residents, even though he knew full well what he would do next.  In this surgery, there is no assistant - only the OR staff.  All eyes are fixed on Henderson, and Howard expects to hear, "There's nothing we can do," or "Terminal," but he says, "Let's get it."
    Just then, Howard notices Henderson and everyone in the OR is wearing the khaki uniform of The Restoration under the traditional green OR garments, and Henderson has the rank of major general on his collar.
    Immediately, everyone begins a number of tasks.  A transfusion needle is inserted in the patient's arm, a tray of different instruments is placed beside the surgeon, and there is a purpose and will as they all carefully respond to his commands, "Pressure on the diaphragm....clamp....forceps."
   The tumor is massive, far larger than Howard has ever attempted to remove.  He is astonished at the skill with which Henderson carefully severs the cancerous tissue and then, he uses a procedure Howard has never seen.  Once the tumor is removed, he uses an endoscope to tediously examine the surfaces of the organs that cannot be seen through the incision.  After a few moments, he nods, removes the instrument, removes the clamps and begins the close procedure.  He remains there at the patient's side until the OR staff has completed all its duties; and just before he leaves the OR, he touches the patient's cheek and seems to say a brief prayer.
   Sergeant Major Buford says, "Doctor Henderson will only perform 1 surgery each day.  Before any operation, he spends quite a bit of time reviewing x-rays and medical history of each patient.  He thinks more than 1 operation per day causes the surgeon to lose focus on the specifics of each patient."
    For several days after witnessing the rather remarkable surgical procedure, Howard asked himself had Henderson ever went through something like being placed on leave due to the necessity to observe the principles of progressive statistics?  If so, he hadn't rebelled against it and used the rather extensive money and resources he was fortunate to have to move on to another level in his career.  With conditions in the country as they are, so many people's lives have undergone a sudden and unexpected change.  Few have the chance Henderson did and such denial is forcing them into a hate and rebellion they will later regret.
   He reads Charlotte's note over and over and wonders how long he had forced her into a denial she did not deserve.  He is restless and walks to his desk.  He picks up his medical research notes but immediately throws them down, not wanting to renew that punishing feeling of denial in not having the opportunity to advance cancer treatment as he was convinced he could.  He goes to his car and begins driving with no idea where he is going but finally stops in front of The Restoration compound.  There are many armed guards at posts inside the premises, and the gate attendant makes a call to headquarters before he is admitted.  He finds The Leader sitting at his desk with an uncertain smile and tapping on his desk with a pencil.
    As Howard sits down, neither of them says a word.  The Leader continues to stare at him before reaching into his desk and removing captain bars and several armbands before saying, "I had quite a discussion with your wife - or I should say former wife.  She told me all about your medical research, and I must tell you The Restoration doesn't advocate deathbed conversions.  Many times, a person's body must be healed before his soul.  I also called Doctor Henderson and told him I just had this feeling you would want to enlist before very much longer.  He shares many of your beliefs about medical research but his surgical schedule and everything else around that hospital doesn't allow him the time.  I hope you still have your ambitions, because its a terrible thing when ambition departs leaving life like a kite flying from a broken string.  Doctor Henderson would like to take you on with him at his hospital and offer the full resources of his research lab and oh yes, our fund-raising has been so successful, we need not rely only on volunteers any longer."  He reaches in his desk drawer, removes a single sheet of paper and adds, "This is the pay scale for officers."
   Howard briefly glances at the captain's salary and says, "I guess I'm in."
   Again, The Leader is annoyed with Howard's non-committal attitude.  He resumes tapping on the desk and says, "If you and Charlotte were still together, you would know she spent all of last week traveling all over the country helping a number of local commands within The Restoration set up their food service programs.  As best as I can determine, she went 3 of 4 days without sleep.  I hope you can find your way to the dedication she has."  His expression becomes very stern as he adds, "Go down to the C4 building and draw your uniforms.  If you ever see Charlotte, don't forget to salute.  She outranks you."
    Howard draws his uniforms and is somehow compelled to put one of them on.  As he walks back to his car, he can't grasp his feeling when the enlisted men salute and extend some greeting...."Good morning, sir....Good morning, captain."  Without thinking, he finds himself driving towards the Techside Apartments.  He has no thought of a reconciliation and knows she feels the same.  Somehow, he simply wants her to see him in his uniform and know he is now a party member - possibly living the last day of his own past.
    Many contactor vehicles line the street around the job site, and he parks some distance down Spring Street.  He begins slowly walking towards the project and notices 2 bearded men on Farlie Street looking through binoculars down on the work area.  Presently, one of them makes a call on a cell phone, and they both drive away.
    Howard isn't sure what he should say to Charlotte, so he stops and tries to gather his thoughts.  As some provisional idea forms in his mind, he resumes his slow walk and sees 2 ragged vans stop at the same place where he had observed the 2 bearded men.  He recognizes the 8 or so men that get out as Chitinos, because they're all wearing the orange headband -  the symbol of the militants within that mixed race.  He stops again and is puzzled when 2 of them crawl on top of the vehicles and the others hand something to each of them.  My God, they both have a bi-pod automatic weapon and are aiming them directly at the work area.  They begin raking the grounds with rifle fire striking the food utensils and sending them barreling across the ground.  The workers, sitting in small groups with their lunches, are stunned for a few seconds before getting up and running for cover behind the stacks of building materials.
    Terrified and frozen where he stands, Howard searches for Charlotte and sees her at the overturned food service tables, seizing several volunteers by the sleeves and directing them towards cover.  As she begins to run, one of the volunteers falls.  She immediately turns, rushes to her side and assists her to her feet before glancing back at the service area to be sure everyone is clear.  She stands and begins running towards an open doorway in one of the buildings but stops at the sides of 2 wounded men, feverishly motioning for one of the medics, just as the SS guards take up positions and begin pumping M20 rifle fire and shoulder-launched rockets towards the 2 vans.  Both of them are struck and burst into flames, sending large columns of black smoke into the air and a deafening sound that echoes through the open doors and windows of the gutted buildings.  The twisted and dismembered bodies of the Chytinos are hurled through the air but one of them is crouched well away from the burning vehicles.  He takes careful aim with his rifle and begins firing just as Charlotte is assisting the medics and wounded towards cover.  The rounds trickle across the ground behind them and run the full length of Charlotte's body violently propelling her some 30 feet forward where she falls face down.
   Just as the SS cuts down the one remaining Chytino, Howard comes to his senses and begins running towards Charlotte.  He can feel the tears oozing from his eyes as he runs as fast as he can but slowly, his pace diminishes until he is barely moving when he reaches her side.  There is little blood from her massive wounds, and he knows her heart has stopped.  Stunned, he kneels at her side and gently places his hand against her face.  He feels her warm blood, removes his hand and begins gazing at it with the most terrible constriction in his throat and chest.
   He drops down to his knees and then collapses into a crouching sit at her side just as Captain Donovan kneels down beside him.  With tears streaming down his cheeks, he looks at Donavan and asks, "Why....Why?  She could have gone to that cover right over there."
   Donavan looks at the burning vehicles and then down at Charlotte before saying in a quivering voice, "She was the ranking officer on site....It was her responsibility."

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    The gathered white curtains are barely visible through the darkly tented windows of the black hearse standing at the front of a column of some 50 vehicles in front of the Church Of The Restoration.  The SS guards in their black uniforms and automatic weapons at sling arms form a defense perimeter some 100 yards around the Church compound.  Inside the Church, many flower arrangements are lined around Charlotte's coffin and in front of each of the statues.  The slate gray coffin is open showing her freshly starched uniform and The Saint Jude's Badge neatly pinned over her left pocket above the Crusade Citation which is a black letter C awarded for her participation in Operation Proletarian, the first crusade of The Restoration in the Atlanta Command Zone.  Above the 3rd button of her khaki shirt is a small purple ribbon, now awarded to anyone wounded or killed in service to The Restoration.  Field Marshall Leonard Earnshaw is in the final words of his funeral homily.

    "Many times, a funeral homilist will refer to such Bible passages as 'I go to prepare a place for you.  In my Father's house, their are many mansions, or the Lord gives and the Lord takes away,' but the romanticist will have none of these time-worn clichés and must always seek out originality.  He must break away from the threatening objectivity of reducing a person's life to only something that was given and taken by God.  We need not go through some mechanical process of reciting scripture everyone expects to hear but must look into a broader and more meaningful spectrum as to how Charlotte Earnshaw died - or perhaps we should say why she died.  The romanticist would put it quite differently and simply point out no one can really say with any certainty why some of us die after lengthy illnesses or why others are taken in an instant.  Within our limited ability to understand such a tragic event as death at the hand of a terrorist, it seems so unjust that Charlotte fell following where her heart led her - trying to help the homeless and hungry. No one can say precisely what and in what order happens to a person's soul after death.  We shouldn't dwell on that except to say there is hope for those in Purgatory who can now only look to their loved ones to remember them in acts of loving kindness and indulgences that hopefully, someday may free their souls into Heaven.  With that, we can always offer the dead, regardless of where their souls are,  the solace of knowing they remain in our hearts and continue to influence our lives, even though they are gone from this world."
    "Rather than houses and mansions, we must first ask what was the purpose of a person's life.  Sometimes, purpose may be obscured in twisted circumstances and such purpose, should a purpose exist, may not be immediately obvious to those with little or no knowledge of what led someone to the point that we must now attempt to praise, exonerate or justify what someone finally became.  As for Charlotte, this appraisal isn't especially difficult.  She, like most mothers, dedicated herself to her children in the early stages of their lives but as time passed and the children were gone on to wherever their purpose, or lack of purpose, led them, she must have began to ask herself what can I do now?  Everyone must have a purpose.  Sometimes purpose can be disguised in self-serving fixations and pursuit of some type of lifestyle ultimately leading to a final recognition that no worthwhile purpose at all has been in someone's life.  What a punishing recognition it must be to reach that point and know it is too late to seek out purpose and try to salvage what remains of our lives."
    "Perhaps some of us are at that point now and still have the chance to enter our own last day of the past but we need not insist we are being called by God.  To do so would be overly presumptuous.  Before anyone can make such a claim, we must first look into our own hearts, and I can assure you, regardless of your education or position in life, your conscious will tell you exactly what you should do to grasp some measure of purpose - to do something good and not be reoccupied only with what we want for ourselves.  I believe, yes I know, Charlotte did that.  She saw the faces of the hungry and whether it was by chance, the will of God or her own conscience, she was in the unique position of opportunity.  She seized upon what she might well have felt was her only chance to form the will and determination her conscience demanded."
    "Life indeed is very fragile, and it can be taken at any time, although I don't know that we should always say that it was God that took it.  Charlotte has gone from this life but she continues to live in the hearts of those who worked with her.  In that respect, nothing has been taken away." 

    There is a procession from the back of the Church just as a very beautiful female voice begins to sing I'll Be Seeing You.  An alter boy holds the staff and crucifix in front of 2 other alter boys carrying a candle in each hand.  Behind them is The Leader holding a small royal blue, velvet cushion on which rests the Cross Of The Restoration, the highest decoration of The Church.  It is to be worn around the neck and has a black ribbon with white border and is identical to the ribbon of the Nazi Knight's Cross.  On the ribbon is a black crucifix some 2 1/2 inches long.
   The Leader walks behind the coffin,  first looks down on Charlotte's body and then faces the people.  In a stern voice, he says, "During the Crusades and throughout the ages, many have fallen in service to the Church.  Some are well-remembered and some are not remembered at all for their heroic deeds were known only to them and God.  Many fell on the field of battle during the Crusades and many were murdered by terrorists for it is the Church that evokes will and confidence and that is what the forces of evil fear the most. As the Field Marshall quite eloquently put it, sometimes each of us must look into our own heart to find something that only we might know is there.  Once we know our purpose, we may require some degree of leadership to set us in the right direction but once that is done, we can feel will and purpose flowing through our bodies leading us to this metaphoric last day of the past.  Indeed, Charlotte had reached that day and the course of her future life was set towards a meaningful purpose but then, it was taken away in an instant by  faceless cowards whose only purpose was to destroy what was good.  Who can say God took her away.  She was a victim of hate that has consumed much of what was once America.  The Church must act and cannot stand idly by singing hymns and reciting scripture."
   Abruptly, The Leader stops and moves closer to the coffin.  With the alter boys holding the candles at his side, he carefully lifts Charlotte's head just as a strong masculine voice shouts, "Teennch Hut!"  All in uniform snap to attention and render the hand salute.
   Tenderly, The Leader places the decoration around Charlotte's neck and says, "My darling sister, in the honor and tradition of the Holy Church and in the honor of your purposeful death, I rest the Cross Of The Restoration where it shall remain for eternity, but your will and determination cannot be confiscated by evil and the mindless act of a terrorist.  This will and purpose lives not only within the walls of this church but also in the hearts of all whom you touched during your life.  Your merciful purpose and hope shall not pass from this life with you but shall remain in the hearts of we who shall remember you all the days of our lives and beyond."