Shelly strolled into the hospital Monday morning ready to get back to her kids. The Gainesville trip was a wonderful weekend away from the rigors of life in Atlanta. She had forgotten how alive a college campus could feel, and had been blown away by the electricity in the air inside the football stadium during the game. It invigorated her. She looked up and spied Dr. Wall down the hall.
“Doctor,” she called out.
“Dr. White, fresh from The Swamp, are you? You look, rested.” “Yes, I am.” She felt her face flush. “So, how are things going
around here?”
“Mary is holding her own and stable. Just barely, though. Six kids tried to make a run for it during movie night and Doris is trying to sell Girl Scout cookies for her granddaughter to anybody who is breathing.”
“So, the zoo is functioning at full capacity.”
He nodded. “How was the trip?” he asked as they walked side
by side toward the doctors’ lounge.
“It was great to see Barry and speak to the class. Nick even got to field a few questions. We went to dinner with a student who’s helping Barry on the challenge. Very bright. And we watched the football game the next day—took in the sites. We had a fun and relaxing weekend. I should get away more often.” There was a pause as she formed the question she had been dying to ask. “Barry did mention a strange email he received. It was about me and someone I think is you.”
“Oh?” asked Wall.
“They knew about me being here in 1972 and asked about a Dr.
G.”
Dr. Wall stopped in his tracks. Shelly knew all about that concerned look emanating from his brow. It usually meant trouble. “What are you talking about?”
“Did people used to call you Dr. G. here?” she pressed. “Where is this message?”
“Barry has it. I guess I can have him send it over. Why?” “Shelly, when I was in the Navy, there were programs I worked
on that I can’t talk about.” “But that was years ago.”