The First Patient

CHAPTER 9

Incredulous, Gabe stared across the bed at Carol Stoddard and Magnus Lattimore.

"I can't believe this," he said, barely maintaining control. "How many episodes?"

"Four," Carol said. "All within the last three months. Jim Ferendelli was actually with us when the first attack occurred. It was right here in the residence. He was up here for dinner. All of a sudden Drew began shaking his head as if he were trying to clear something out of it. It turns out he was hearing voices."

"I just can't believe this," Gabe said again, making no attempt to lower his voice. "How in the hell could Drew come all the way out to Wyoming to ask me to take over as his doctor and manage not to tell me about this? And you two. Carol, we've known each other for years. Magnus, you had plenty of chances to talk to me before I flew out here. Who in the hell do you think this man is-an organ-grinder? How can you ask me to uproot my life and come here to take care of him and then withhold information like this?"

"Gabe, please," Carol replied. "I understand why you're upset. We debated how and when to tell you what had been happening, but with all the tests coming out negative, and no attacks for a few weeks, Drew thought we'd be better off hoping the whole matter was a thing of the past. He really needed you, Gabe. Then and now."

"So that's why he lied to me? That's why you lied to me? Because you all needed me?"

Gabe glanced down to see the president's reaction, but Andrew Stoddard, eyes closed, was lying motionless, breathing coarsely, and had clearly not heard a word. Reflexively, Gabe reached down and checked his pulse. One hundred and regular.

Then suddenly Gabe found himself reflecting upon the meeting with Drew in Wyoming. There was time then, plenty of time, for Gabe to tell his longtime friend about the self-prescribing he had been doing-about the pain pills and the antidepressants. He hadn't said anything to the president for the same reason he had never said anything to his former AA sponsor-the same reason he had gradually cut back on his meetings until he stopped going altogether. He was ashamed-not frightened, not worried he was heading for an alcohol relapse like so many warned at the meetings-just ashamed of his weakness and maybe of his foolhardiness and denial as well.

Whatever the reason, he had lied by omission just as Carol and Latti-more had been lying since his arrival in D.C. Just as Drew had done back in Tyler. Different stripes, same zebras.

"The episodes haven't all been the same," Carol said, maintaining her composure against Gabe's onslaught. "The second one happened at a press conference. Jim was there, and so was Magnus. The moment Drew's color changed and his speech became disjointed, they got him off the stage. The whole thing didn't last half an hour. There were more audio and visual hallucinations than there were today, but no rocking. That was when Jim had him brought to the presidential suite at Bethesda Naval. After all the tests were negative, including an evaluation by a team of neurologists, the diagnosis was made of atypical migraine. I'm surprised you didn't read about the whole thing in the papers or else hear about it on TV."

Gabe's smile was mirthless.

"I don't own a TV that works with any reliability, and the only newspaper I ever read is the Tyler Times. Life has been much easier that way."

"I guess that's why you never asked us about the atypical migraines," Lattimore said.

"I guess," Gabe replied acidly. "Drew mentioned something about migraines when he was in Tyler. Listen, you two, I don't know what's going on with him, but I do know this man is in no position to function as the President of the United States. We've got to do something, and quickly. I haven't had the chance to study up on the Twenty-fifth Amendment, but I would imagine a call downstairs to the vice president is in order."

"Wait," Lattimore said sharply. "Please, Gabe, just wait… and listen… Please?"

Gabe flashed on the desert behind his ranch. The sun would be setting just about now. The perfect time for a ride.

What in the hell was he doing here?

"Go ahead," he said. "But you should know that I have no reason at this point to trust anything you tell me."

"I understand. With lobbyists and spin doctors and hidden agendas on every corner, this town is justifiably famous for people playing fast and loose with the truth, and I'm afraid that as a political advisor, I'm hardly blameless in that regard myself. Even now, the guests downstairs have been apologized to and told that the president has a migraine headache, some asthma, and some sort of gastric upset, and that you're attending to him. The press will be next."

"Go on," Gabe said, picturing the truth being batted about like a badminton shuttlecock.

"First of all," Lattimore went on, "remember that when you first came upstairs, I asked Agent Griswold to send for the military aide who is entrusted with The Football. We talked about The Football when you first arrived in town."

"Believe me, I was paying attention. That sort of stuff is not easy to ignore."

"Then I may have told you that among other things, the briefcase contains the papers necessary to hand over control of the government to Vice President Cooper. The military aide is waiting out there in the foyer right now, Gabe. Ultimately the decision as to what is best for your patient and for the country will be up to you."

"Go on."

"I'm sorry, truly sorry, that we weren't more forthcoming about these episodes in the first place. We had come to an uneasy agreement with Jim Ferendelli that so long as the situation didn't worsen, he would continue to try and come up with a diagnosis. Then, when he disappeared the way he did, we three have been in a quandary about what to do next. The president and First Lady felt that you were the only one who would step in and continue Jim's investigation into the situation, while at the same time giving the president the chance to be reelected."

"Gabe, the country needs him," Carol said. "The world needs him. But not if the price of that service is his mental health."

"Carol, if Drew was an exam question, and there was only one right answer, I would have to say that his neurological presentation today and the history you've given me add up to some sort of stress disorder. That is not a desirable condition in the man with his finger on the big, red button. It seems like with each episode he's drifting farther and farther from reality."

"But in between these episodes," Lattimore said, "the president has been as focused and energetic as he's ever been, and I mean that. He's gotten the Koreans and Iran to back off and allow nuclear inspections. That's major. The new trade agreements with Mexico and China have already brought us the lowest unemployment in a dozen years. He knows that the only solution to the drug problem in our cities is to deliver hope for the future in the form of education, and already he's gotten more money for schools than the last two administrations combined. He's pushed through more legislation, more of the pieces of his populist agenda, than anyone ever thought he could, and with the polls predicting the shift to a friendly Congress, there's no telling what he could accomplish in the next four years. This is no ordinary man, Gabe."

"Magnus, this man"-Gabe gestured down at Stoddard, who had yet to move except for the rise and fall of his chest-"has the authority and the power to destroy everything. Everything! And he may be losing his mind."

"There's got to be something causing this besides stress," Carol said. "I'm certain of it. You heard him answer your questions. He's absolutely brilliant. You had barely asked the questions before he produced the answers. Gabe, you're worried that Drew has the power to destroy everything, but he also has the power and the vision to change the world for the better as no president-no person-ever has."

"This upcoming election is by no means a lock," Lattimore added. "Dunleavy still has a lead in most of the red states, and the religious right is starting to get mobilized and organized again. Their political machine weakened when Dunleavy lost the last election, but there's strong evidence they're regrouping. Do you remember Thomas Eagleton?"

"No… Wait, maybe. Yes, yes, I do. He was McGovern's vice presidential nominee in, what, seventy?"

"Seventy-two. McGovern wasn't going to beat Nixon no matter what, so none of the Democratic biggies would run with him. So he picked Eagleton, a nice enough senator from Missouri. Only McGovern's half-baked research didn't uncover that the man had several psychiatric hospitalizations for depression, which included electroshock therapy. The negative press made McGovern seem like anything but fit to lead this country, and forced Eagleton to quit."

"He was replaced by Sargent Shriver, the Peace Corps guy. I remember now."

"It was even worse with Dukakis. He was ahead in the polls when all of a sudden word started to circulate that he had been treated for depression. Rumor. Pure unsubstantiated rumor. But the result was a dramatic shift in the polls, and that scene in the tank notwithstanding, he could never catch up."

"I understand what you're saying."

"If word gets out about these episodes of the president's, all the king's horses and all the king's men aren't going to be able to help us. And the most important thing, as Carol said, is that in between episodes, he's as sharp and in command as ever."

At that instant, as if on cue, Andrew Stoddard's eyes fluttered open. He looked to his left at his wife and chief of staff, then to his right at Gabe.

"Dr. Singleton, I presume," he said, sweeping his tongue across his parched lips.

"Hey there. Welcome to our world."

"This doesn't look good. Another episode?"

Gabe nodded.

"Honey," Carol said, "are you okay?"

"Doin' fine. Doin' fine. A little bit of a throbbing up here in my temples, but otherwise I feel great. I confess, though, that seeing the doc here like this is a little disconcerting-especially when he's supposed to be having dinner and Botswana flag cake with Calvyn Berriman."

"Do you remember anything about what happened?" Gabe asked.

"Not really. I vaguely remember not feeling well. Mostly in my stomach. Why? Did I insult someone we're supposed to be friends with?"

"No, nothing like that," Carol said. "We're just glad you're okay. Honey, Gabe's really upset that we didn't-"

"Carol, I can do this myself," Gabe said, with more snap to his voice than he had intended.

He looked from Carol to Lattimore and back, and considered whether or not to send the two of them out of the room so he could speak to his patient in private. Finally, though, he pulled a brocade chair over next to Stoddard, who had pushed himself up on one elbow.

"Drew, have you been totally aware of these episodes all along?"

"I have… except when I'm having them, of course."

"But you chose not to tell me about them before I agreed to come to Washington to care for you."

"That may have been a mistake."

"Drew, I appreciate your owning this, and not deluging me-at least not up front-with rationalizations for why you chose to keep me in the dark. And I understand why you and Carol and Magnus might have chosen that course. But it was a mistake. It was a lie. I know, I know, omission of something isn't technically a lie. But where I come from we don't draw that line."

"I'm sorry, Gabe. I truly am. There was so much going on, and so much pressure to stabilize the situation surrounding Jim's disappearance, and I so desperately needed you with me. Jim told me the episodes were probably some form of atypical migraines. He started me on Imitrex and told me they might never happen again. Meanwhile, he did all the tests and called in consultants."

"What kind of consultants?"

"Neurologists, I guess."

"Any psychologists? Psychiatrists?"

Stoddard shook his head.

"I… I don't think so. Gabe, if word gets out about these things, I'm finished."

"Drew, as things stand, I feel as if I only have two choices: to call in that military aide who's out there so that you and I can turn over the government to Vice President Cooper, or to quit and jump on the next flight back to Wyoming."

Lattimore leaned forward and seemed as if he were about to enter the discussion, but Stoddard, whose back was turned directly toward him, stopped him with a raised hand and then sat up in bed, still facing toward Gabe and away from the chief of staff. In that instant, every vestige of Drew Stoddard had vanished and was completely replaced by the President of the United States.

"Gabe," he said, "Jim Ferendelli had to deal with the same crisis of conscience as you are right now. I ached for him then just as I ache for you now. Ultimately, he rejected both possibilities you suggest. He didn't quit and he didn't insist I turn over the government of this country to Tom Cooper. He put me on medication for what he felt was causing my problem, and he promised not to rest until he knew what was the matter with me and what we should do about it. Please believe that."

"I do."

"Gabe, working with a Republican Congress, my jobs programs have taken more than six hundred thousand workers off unemployment. Communities have joined with me and private business to add two hundred thousand computers to our schools. Drug use in the inner cities has begun a serious decline. A decline, Gabe. The polls say that if I win, I'll likely have a friendly Congress next term. Give me that and there's no limit to what we can accomplish for the people of this country. I'm begging you, Gabe. Stay close to me. Find out what's the matter with me. Treat me with any medication you want. Bring any specialists in to evaluate me. But please, for God's sake please don't pull the plug on me. Not now. Not when we're so close."

In the silence that followed, Gabe felt much of his anger at being deceived and much of his zeal to take immediate action deflate. He didn't have the statistics that Lattimore and the president had cited, but he did know that there was a spirit of hope and optimism in the country that hadn't existed for a generation or more. And best of all, there were no American soldiers losing their lives on foreign soil. Drew Stoddard, scholar, intellectual, war hero, humanist, populist, was the real deal.

"I need some time," Gabe heard himself say. "I need some time to sort things out. That was a very frightening scene in here."

"I'm sure it was, Gabe. Take all the time you need."

"And I need Jim Ferendelli's records about his findings and his conclusions so far."

"Wherever they are," Lattimore said, "we can't find them, except for some very thin records at Bethesda Naval. The FBI and the investigative arm of the Secret Service have gone over every inch of the medical office, Jim's house in Georgetown, and his home in North Carolina. Dozens of agents are still on the job. Maybe a couple of hundred."

"Well, I want access to his place."

"No problem."

"And if I decide to go along with what you're asking, I need at least one other doctor to be my assistant in this case and to be close to you when I can't be."

"Do we have to tell him everything?" Carol asked.

"I need to decide that. First, though, I have to feel more certain that this is a secret I want to keep."

"Just tell me what you need," Stoddard said. "Tell me what you want me to do."

"Stay close to home. Here or Camp David. I want to know precisely where you are every minute until I've made my decision."

"What about Texas?" Lattimore asked the president.

"Cancel it," Stoddard ordered brusquely.

"Finally, I want your word, Drew, and yours, too, Carol and Magnus, that if I opt to bail on this whole deal and involve Vice President Cooper, you won't try anymore to convince me otherwise."

"You have our word," the president said.

The other two hesitated, then reluctantly nodded in assent.

"In that case," Gabe said, "get ready for bed and then crawl back under the covers. I'm going to be here tonight for as long as it takes to convince myself you're stable."

"Fine. The Lincoln Bedroom is right down the hall if you want to rest there," Carol said. "I can get you a robe and pajamas. Griz will arrange for some food if you're hungry."

"That's all right. A few quiet hours and I'll go home. For now, after I check you over again, Mr. President, I want to do some reading. You have a library up here, yes?"

"Not a huge one, but yes, yes, we do. And Griz can get you into the main library in the East Wing."

"Good."

"Exactly what do you want to read about, Doctor?"

Gabe reached over to again check Stoddard's pulses. Then he tested the man's eye movements and the response of his pupils to light.

"The Twenty-fifth Amendment," Gabe said.