“It’s not fair.”
“But what about the tubal ligation?”
“As far as I’m concerned,” said the Fourth Man, “it’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back.”
“What do you mean?”
“All these things—birth control information, devices, and now sterilization—all of them are in direct violation of Church teaching. We’ve got to do something about this!”
“Are you sure?” Whitaker was almost pleading. “The last time we were trying to come to the defense of Holy Mother Church and look what it got us: prison!”
“Look back over history, brother,” the Fourth Man admonished. “It was always the same. Peter imprisoned, then crucified—upside down, mind you. Paul imprisoned and executed. All the Apostles except John. And they certainly tried hard enough with John. Anyway, martyrdom down through the centuries has been the lot of true Catholics. Nothing has changed.”
“I’ve been wondering about that,” the First Man said. “I don’t know that I’m really cut out for martyrdom. I think, all things considered, I’d rather be a confessor or a virgin or something. Martyrdom hurts.”
“I can’t say I disagree with that,” Whitaker said.
“Yellow-bellied sapsuckers!” the Third Man spat.
“Now, now,” the Fourth Man cautioned, “we’ve got to stick together. We’re surely not doing this for ourselves. We’re doing it for God’s Holy Church. We’re doing it for the Holy Pope of God! Besides, we aren’t courting martyrdom. We’ve got to make very clever plans so that this hypocrisy that’s masquerading as a Catholic hospital will be exposed.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, the only reason these mortal sins are going on in a Catholic hospital is because the authorities are not aware of what’s going on.”
“Are you sure of that?”
“Of course! Cardinal Boyle is just not informed of what some of his pinko priests and nuns are up to. If he were informed, he’d do something to clear up the situation.”
“Are you sure?” asked the First Man. “Sometimes I get the impression that Cardinal Boyle doesn’t want to know what’s going on in the inner city.”
“It doesn’t matter, really,” the Fourth Man explained. “Even if you’re right, once it is made known, what’s really going on in St. Vincent’s Hospital, whether Cardinal Boyle wants to do something about it or not, he has no choice. The pressure from the universal Church, from the Vatican, will force him to make things right.”
“You mean the Vatican will know what we’ve done?”
“You mean we’ll be that famous!”
“Absolutely!”
“But what in hell are we going to do?” the Third Man wanted to know.
“How about blowing up the clinic?” the First Man suggested.
“Sounds good to me,” the Third Man agreed.
“No, no,” the Fourth Man protested. “That would just win sympathy for them.”
“Well, then, what?”
“It’s a matter of doing something that will get St. Vincent’s Hospital into the news. And not in any complimentary way, either. Something that will get their evil practices publicized.”
“But how can we do that?”
“I have a plan,” said the Fourth Man, to the relief of the others.
“Before you get into your plan,” Whitaker said, “I just thought of something else.”
“What?”
“When you asked if I’d been recognized by anyone—”
“Yes?”
“Well, no, not really. The disguise seems to be effective. But there is one girl . . . she didn’t recognize me, but she noticed me.”
“Noticed you?”
“Well, we met earlier in the day.” Whitaker neglected to mention that their meeting had involved a collision that resulted in someone’s lunch ending up all over the floor and wall. “And then we met again later in the pharmacy.” He didn’t mention that this meeting was occasioned because his white coat was slowly being dyed blue. “She used my name. But I’m pretty sure she read it off the identification tag.”
“Was she the only person you met?”
“Yes, just the girl—twice.”
“You’d better check up on her,” the Fourth Man advised. “If she does know who you are it could ruin what we’re trying to do.”
“How do I do that?”
“Get to know her a little bit better. Find out what she knows.”
“All right. I’ll do it. Now, what’s your plan?”
“Wait a minute,” the Third Man said. “I smell something.”
“Yeah,” Whitaker agreed, “so do I. As a matter of fact, I’ve been smelling something peculiar for a long time now.”
“What is it?” the Fourth Man asked. There was a moment of silence as each of the men looked at one another.
“I guess it must be me,” the First Man confessed.
“You!”
“Well, you know we’re not supposed to take any food out of the Big Top. . . .”
“Yeah, we all know that.”
“Well, I did.”
“What in God’s name did you take?”
“Some cheese.”
“Cheese! My God, man, you might just as well have left an Indian trail to follow. Where is it?”
“Under my armpit.”
“On second thought,” said the Third Man, “that’s just about the best place you could have hidden it. There won’t be that much difference in the smell.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Listen, it won’t be long before one of the guards notices it’s beginning to smell like a cheese factory in here. You’ve got to do something.”
“But what?”
“I’ve got an idea,” the Fourth Man said. “There are only three guards in here so far. And there’s only one anywhere near us. I’ll go over and talk to him . . . distract him. Meanwhile, see that heat register near the floor there? You go over, slip the cheese out of your shirt and stick it behind the grate. See? The thing’s loose; you won’t have any trouble. You’d better come with me,” he said to the Third Man.
“But what about my cheese?” the First Man protested.
“Never mind the cheese!” said the Third Man. “You’ll be lucky not to lose any good time. Let’s do it. Now!”
It must be some law of physics, thought Whitaker. Probably the Seesaw Principle. Some sort of natural law that states that when a weight is abruptly removed from one end of a plank that is unevenly balanced, the other end of the plank goes down. In any case, as the Third and Fourth Men stood up, the First Man hit the floor hard, with the bench clattering down with him.
The guards tensed. But when they recognized who was responsible for the commotion, they relaxed. It was by no means unusual for that bunch. Then, while the Third and Fourth Man engaged the nearby guard in conversation, the First Man did manage to slide his slab of cheese behind the heating grate. Following that, the Fourth Man barely had time to explain his plan for the hospital before the gym was evacuated while the guards searched for an errant skunk.
* * *
