loved. Now, it’s late. Why don’t we just go to sleep. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”
“That’s it, Bruce!”
“What’s it, Ethel?”
“Your busy days.”
“Ethel, do you remember just a few weeks ago? Your hospital was going out of business and you were about to be unemployed with absolutely no prospects for another job.”
“I remember.”
“And I was in a holding cell charged with a misdemeanor and a felony. And I couldn’t afford a lawyer. And I had failed miserably in my mission. The only reason the mission finally worked is because somebody much smarter was following me around doing things right. And I couldn’t even get in touch with my three friends in Van’s Can because they were being held incommunicado because of the riot there.
“And because we’ve started a new life and they would never understand, I will probably never see them again. And it was only because of a miracle and a sympathetic judge that the charges against me were dropped. And, finally, it was only through the grace of God and your faith in me that I got this job out here.”
“So what are you driving at, Bruce?”
“What I’m driving at, Ethel, is that you and I just ought to be real grateful for what we’ve got and not ask any questions . . . see?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Look. I could be in jail. You could be on the outside waiting for me, maybe for a lot of years. Or we could both be free and both be out of a job and lucky just to live in some godforsaken barn like the Back Porch Theatre attic. . . see?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I gotta admit I like your title . . . associate director. And the corporation is certainly high class. Gosh, the Center for Id Expression runs lots of big ads in lots of expensive magazines. And the Maharidian Maker Shalal Hash Bash is a great boss. At least he’s been very generous so far.
“But Bruce, I can’t help being jealous . . . what wife could?”
“Ethel, I’d be the first to admit that I am not all that wise in the ways of the world. But I gotta think that most wives would be very happy if their husbands brought home $33,000 a year plus incentives. That’s not hay.”
“Maybe so, but most wives’ husbands aren’t sex therapists.”
“Somebody’s got to do it.”
“I suppose. But—it’s only natural—I still get jealous of all those women who have you all day long.”
“Ethel, what can I do? Before I met you I proved beyond the shadow of a doubt that I could do nothing. Not anything. And then, in one magic moment, on a cart in a chapel in a Catholic hospital I discovered a talent that— well, let’s face it, Ethel: the chapel, the Catholic hospital, the way we are destined to do God’s will—it’s a talent that’s got to be God-given.”
Ethel smiled in spite of her fears. “That
“Yeah, it was. I never did anything right before in my life. But that moment! There was something about that hospital. It was like the power was flowing out of someone else—God, I guess—and flowing into me. Right after I experienced my reaction and felt your response, I knew this was a God-given gift and it had to be used for the betterment of mankind.”
“Womankind.”
“Whatever. Anyway, it felt kind of funny making a demonstration tape and sending it to the Maharidian. But since I was doing it with you, it wasn’t so bad.”
“And it was on the strength of that tape that you were hired.”
“That’s true, Ethel. But in no time now I’ve worked my way up here at the Id Center to be the number-one surrogate. You should be proud.”
“I am. But I’m jealous too.”
“Don’t be. I’m doing it for the greater honor and glory of God—like the Jesuits say—AMDG. Besides—now don’t you go telling this to anyone; it might ruin me—”
“Okay.”
“I don’t get any pleasure from it.”
“You don’t get any—! How can that be?”
“I save all my pleasure for you.”
“You do?”
“Absolutely.”
“Oh, Bruce. That makes me so happy. I’m even happier now that the Maharidian has named it—you know, the thing—after you.”
“Uh-huh. The Whitaker Maneuver! Can we go to sleep now, Ethel?”
“Sure, Bruce.”
“Bruce?”
“What, Ethel?”
“Could we do it just once? It helps me go to sleep real good.”
“Ethel!”
“Please.”
“Oh, okay. Give me a moment.”
“Are you ready yet?”
“Wait a minute.”
“Yet?”
“Um-hmm.”
“Now?”
“Oh!”
“Bruce, I think you’re ready.”
“It’s God’s will!”
“God’s will be done!”
Acknowledgments
Gratitude for technical advice to:
Sgt. Roy Awe, Homicide, Detroit Police Department
Ramon Betanzos, Professor of Humanities, Wayne State University
Patricia Chargot, Staff Writer,
Jim Grace, Detective, Kalamazoo Police Department
Mary Ann Hayes, R.N.
Timothy Kenny, Deputy Chief of the Criminal Division, Wayne County
Prosecutor’s Office
Patrick McAlinden, Director of Treatment, Western Wayne County Correctional Facility
Sgt. Daniel McCarty, Police Arson Unit, Detroit Police Department
Neal Shine, Senior Managing Editor,
Samaritan Health Care Center, Detroit:
Sister Bernadelle Grimm, R.S.M.
Sister Rose Petruzzo, O.P., Director, Department of Pastoral Care Service
Sister Genevieve Shea, S.L.W., Chaplain
Sister Marie Thielen, R.S.M., Vice President for Sponsorship
The Reverend Roland Schaedig, Chaplain
James Culver, Pharm. D., Director of Pharmacy
Donald Grimes, Quality Assurance Coordinator, Pharmacy
