The Muñoz woman had already come from the other room and she stood in the frail light of the votive candle in the only dress Billy had ever seen her in and wished the doctor a good evening. The doctor handed her his hat and then unbuttoned his coat and slipped it from his shoulders and held it up and turned it and reached his glasses in their case from the inside pocket. Then he handed the coat to the woman and removed his cufflinks left and right and put them in his trouser pocket and turned up his starched white shirtsleeves two turns each and sat on the low pallet and took the glasses from their case and put them on and looked at Boyd. He placed one hand on Boyd’s forehead. Cómo estás? he said. Cómo to sientes?
Nunca mejor, wheezed Boyd.
The doctor smiled. He turned to the woman. Hiérvame algo de aqua, he said. Then he took from his pocket a small nickelplated flashlight and leaned over Boyd. Boyd closed his eyes but the doctor pulled down the lower lid of each eye in turn and examined them. He waved the light slowly back and forth across the pupils and looked in. Boyd tried to turn his head away but the doctor had placed his hand alongside his cheek. Warne, he said.
He pulled back the blanket. Something small scurried away over the muslin. Boyd was wearing one of the white cotton jumpers the workers in the field wore and it had neither collar nor buttons. The doctor pushed it up and pulled Boyd’s right elbow down from the sleeve and pulled it over his head and then very carefully pulled the garment down off of Boyd’s left arm and handed it to Billy without even looking at him. Boyd lay wrapped in cotton sheeting and his wound had bled through the winding and the blood had dried and blackened. The doctor slid the flat of his hand up under the wrappings and placed his hand on Boyd’s chest. Respire, he said. Respire profundo. Boyd breathed but his breathing was shallow and labored. The doctor slid his hand to the left side of his chest near to the dark stains in the sheeting and told him to breathe again. He bent and unsnapped the clasps on his bag and took out his stethoscope and hung it around his neck and he took out a pair of spadeended scissors and cut through the filthy windings and lifted back the severed ends all stiff with blood. He placed his fingers on Boyd’s naked chest and tapped his left middle finger with his right and listened. He moved his hand and thumped again. He moved his hand down to Boyd’s caved and sallow abdomen and probed gently with his fingers. He watched the boy’s face.
Tienes muchos amigos, he said. No?
Cómo? wheezed Boyd.
Tantos regalos.
He lifted the earpieces of the stethoscope into place and put the cone on Boyd’s chest and listened. He moved it from theright to the left. Respire profundo, he said. Por la boca. Otra vez. Bueno. He placed the cone over Boyd’s heart and listened. He listened with his eyes closed.
Billy, Boyd wheezed.
Shh, said the doctor. He put his fingers to his lips. No habla. He dropped the earpieces of the stethoscope down about his neck and he lifted by its chain a gold casewatch from his waistcoat pocket and snapped it open with his thumb. He sat with two fingers pressed to the side of Boyd’s neck beneath his jaw and he tilted the white porcelained face of the watch toward the votive lamp and sat watching quietly while the needlethin sweepsecond hand sectored the dial with its small black roman numbers.
Cuándo puedo yo hablar? Boyd whispered.
The doctor smiled. Ahora si quieres, he said.
Billy?
Yeah.
You dont have to stay.
I’m all right.
You dont have to stay if you dont want. It’s all right.
I aint goin nowheres.
The doctor slid the watch back into his waistcoat. Saca la lengua, he said.
He examined Boyd’s tongue and he put his finger inside Boyd’s mouth and felt the inner face of his cheek. Then he bent and picked up the bag and set it on the pallet beside him and opened the bag and tilted it slightly toward the light. The bag was of heavy pebbled leather dyed black and it was scuffed and worn at the corners and the leather there and along the edges had gone brown again. The brass catches were worn from eighty years of use for his father had carried it before him. He took out a bloodpressure cuff and wrapped it around Boyd’s thin upper arm and pumped the contrivance with the bulb. He placed the cone of the stethoscope in the crook of Boyd’s arm and listened. He watched the needle drop and watched it bounce. In the panes of his antique eyeglasses the thin and upright flame of the votive lamp stood centered. Very small, very steadfast. Like the light of holy inquiry burning in his aging eyes. He unwound the cloth and turned to Billy.
Hay una mesa chica en la casa? O una silla?
Hay una silla.
Bueno. Tráigala. Y tráigame una contenidor de aqua. Una bota o cualquiera cosa que tenga.