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reading the piles of reports that came to the director from every department,
distilling them into the briefs that Dr. Smith preferred. Deciding what
details did and did not get passed on to Dr. Smith made her, in reality, a
very powerful figure in the sanitarium hierarchy. It also meant she thought
she knew everything about everything at Folcroft.
That's exactly what she intended to tell Dr. Harold W. Smith. She would follow
it up with this concluding and irrefutable argument. "Whatever mistake
Associate Director Howard made, I have not heard a word about it. Therefore it
can't be as significant as you believe it is, and it is most certainly not
worth terminating the boy over."
Dr. Smith would likely say something like, "I've never seen you so determined
about anything, Mrs. Mikulka."
She knew exactly how to answer that, too. "Because, in all my years as your
secretary, this is the first time I thought you were making a serious error in
judgment."
There were other things she could have said, but she didn't dare. Like she
knew that whatever Mark had done that was so horrible, it was probably just a
minor and accidental deviation in the painfully rigid procedures Dr. Smith
insisted upon for his tiny executive staff. She would not point out that it
took almost superhuman patience and self-discipline to work in his
environment.
She would also not point out that Mark was good for Dr. Smith. Mark's
easy-going nature had rubbed off in subtle ways.
Finally, she would never bring up the fact that Dr. Smith was as old as the
hills and his life spent behind a desk had left him with a frail constitution
and persistent digestive irritation. For the future of Folcroft it was a good
idea to have an assistant on hand to take over day-to-day operations. Just in
case.
Shame on you, Eileen, for even thinking such morbid thoughts.
But it was true. She wasn't a spring chicken herself, and lately the brevity
of her remaining years had been much on her mind.
Maybe she should retire.
With her head of steam up, she didn't waste a moment. She knocked on the
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doctor's office door as soon as she walked in that morning.
When she entered, Mark Howard was lounging in the creaky chair in front of Dr.
Smith's desk. Dr. Smith was doing something strange with his mouth.
He was-what? At first she assumed he was on the verge of being sick.
"Dr. Smith, are you feeling ill?"
"What? No, I am just fine, Mrs. Mikulka. Would you bring us tea, please."
"Yes. Of course."
Mrs. Mikulka left the office feeling flustered. Dr. Harold W. Smith had been
suppressing amusement. Not a laugh, certainly, and probably not even a
chuckle. But as close to it as she might have seen in years. Why, Dr. Smith
and Mark were sharing a joke.
You could have knocked over Mrs. Mikulka with a feather.
She felt like a silly old biddy for having wasted all those hours worrying
that Mark was in Dr. Smith's doghouse. At the same time she was fervently
curious.
What in the world could have been so funny to an old sourpuss like Dr. Smith?
What she wouldn't give to know.
"OH YEAH, REAL FUNNY, Junior," said the disgruntled voice out of the
speakerphone.
"The Associated Press took a really nice photo, Remo," Mark Howard said,
unfolding the newspaper when Mrs. Mikulka was gone. "The Rye Record's got it
right on the front page. 'Who Smashed Digger-And Why?' Listen to this-"
"No, thanks."
"No, just listen," Mark Howard insisted delightedly. "'Digger the Dinosaur
never hurt a soul during his short life. In fact, the purple dinosaur with
pink spots was only six weeks old. Yesterday, however, his brief existence was
snuffed out when vandals smashed the two-ton fiberglass figure to pieces in
the parking lot of the Carefree Vacation Condominiums development in Pigeon
Fudge, Tennessee."'
"Boo-hoo for the Carefree Vacation Condominiums," Remo said sourly out of the
speakerphone. "There's more. 'The vandalism occurred yesterday afternoon, but
police say they do not know how the dinosaur was destroyed. "He was so new he
was still shiny," said Max Scheaffer, president of Carefree. "Who would have
thought somebody could do such a heinous act."'"
"I know you think this is the most fun ever, but could we get on to business?"
Remo grouched.
"This is business," Mark protested. "Your stunt turned out to be the
curiosity-of-the-day in papers and newscasts around the country. You came
pretty close to exposing the organization. Not to mention that it was just,
well, a heinous thing to do."
Mark Howard stifled a chuckle.
One corner of Dr. Harold W. Smith's mouth twitched, very slightly.
"Hello?" Remo demanded. "Are there any adults in the room?"
"Remo, this could have been a real problem," Dr. Smith said, his voice almost,
but not quite, as sour as ever.
"You're welcome. Thanks. No, really. Just doing my job."
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