Big Boss is Back

FICTION Big Boss is Back Meredith Sue Willis "GET RID OF THOSE THINGS. Theybother me. That's what Big Boss said," she told Dr. Siefert. "So I said, But you used to like them, Big Boss, and he said, Well I don't anymore." Dr. Siefert was writing notes. He always took extensive histories, and it was a few seconds before he realized he didn't understand. "I don't follow." The woman had insisted that he call her Frankie. She wore a man's pants and shirt, and her front teeth were missing. She had thin limbs, but a big mid-section. He had first thought Liver, but found nothing on palpation. He hadn't done a pelvic because he was going to send her to the gynecologist. White female, widow, 57 years old. Limited recall of medical history. "He wants me to get rid of them," she said. "I don't understand." He had to be careful not to be sharp: clipped words made them shy away. In his thirties, with two pre-school children, he and his wife had chosenWestVirginia after a great deal ofresearch. He was a New Iersey born, board-certified family practitioner who believed in small townlife and familyvalues. So far,he and his wife hadno regrets. But- every so often- something in his practice startled him, as if he were out of his depth. "Really," he said, "I'm sorry. I don't understand." Her eyes rolled from side to side, as if checking for spies. She leaned forward and mouthed a word. When he still didn't get it, she jabbed both pointer fingers at her chest. "Them," she hissed. "You have a concern about your breasts? I was going to recommend a visit to the gynecologist, and monthly selfexaminations -" "Naw," she said. "There's nothing wrong with them, Doc. It's Big Boss. He wants me to get rid of them. I was listening to the tv and they had a program about people who wanted little ones, so I thought maybe if I got them smaller, they wouldn't bother him so much." He said, "I don't do breast reductions. And it isn't something to go into lightly. It's important for a woman to know her options." She said, "It's strange, Doc, since he came back, it's like he knows what I'm thinking. Like he was inside my head. He said, I don't mean reduce 'em, Old Girl, I mean get rid of them! So I came to find out 39 about cutting them off." She seemed perfectly cheerful, crossed her arms and rested them between the offending breasts and her belly. He made his voice firm. "I don't think I can do that, Frankie." She unfolded her arms, smacked her knees and leaped to her feet as if the consultation were over. "I didn't think you would. To tell you the truth, I think they bother him because they remind him of what he can't do anymore. If you know what I mean." He wanted to call his nurse, Merlee Savage, who was a native. She knew everyone and was an excellent amateur psychologist, but she was in the treatment room giving allergy shots to a boy who couldn't stand the sight of needles. "Frankie," said Dr. Siefert, "I want to say, if this man is— abusing you in some way, we can help." She looked alarmed and her left shoulder angled toward the door. "Naw, Doc, he always did the best he could by me. You know, he bought me anything I needed and like that. He never ran around." At that point, Merlee came in with her big shoulders and strong jaw, her long hair parted in the middle and hanging straight like a young woman from long ago. She had a brilliant smile she didn't use very often, and Dr. Siefert had come to feel disappointed if the day passed and he didn't find a way to bring it out. "Well, Frankie," said Merlee, "I didn't know you were here. How are you today?" "I'm fine," said Frankie. "I'm going...