Partnership

Partnership


When you’re with your best friend for the first time in a couple of years, it all just tumbles out together—from events of the moment – what you see out the window of the car now, to the big things have changed your lives, careers, and families --windfalls, disasters, dreams. It is in outline form, a kind of code best friends develop over a lifetime.

It was a “best friend catch up”. They were shifting their thoughts at light speed, changing subjects, leaping from a little despairing to celebrating, to joking. They needed to laugh.
“Tell me another lie,” Duff said.
"Marth were they this silly in high school?" Pinky asked.
"Yep. They giggle like 10 year old girls," replied Martha. The wives were shaking their heads in the back seat.
"Duff doesn't act like this with anyone else. Does Charlie?"
"Nope. I used to get disgusted. I’m jealous I guess--that they are in another world having such a good time. Nothing could be that funny."
The men were in the front seat intermittently guiding the car toward Telluride, as conversation permitted, for a week-end of skiing.
"Another lie? I can't keep up," Charlie rejoined.
"So what's with the empty cage in the kitchen?"
"We had a parrot. Columbus. He's nipples north. The bubble gummer next door gassed him," Charlie said.
"It was awful," Martha said from the back seat. "We got these mealy larvae in the flour, and they got in everything in the pantry. Have you ever had anything like that? Anyway it’s really hard to get rid of them."
"He looked just like the cartoon roadrunner run over by a truck. Stiff as a board. I could have pounded a nail with him," Charlie said swerving the car as he gave his imitation of avian rigor mortis.
"We had to get the exterminator. They tell you to do it when you go on a trip for a few days. When we left, I tied Sass's leash to the birdcage in the laundry room and told Darci to put the animals in the garage on the day the exterminator came to kill the meal worms. I guess she wasn't thinking of the bird as one of the animals. She took the dog out but left the bird inside,” Martha said tearing up slightly.
"That's really sad," Pinky commiserated.
"Yeah. Columbus had a pretty hard life. He was traumatized when we got him. He didn't really like anyone but me. He never forgave Cha for the shoe box,” Martha continued.
"I always have about an hour in Denver before the 6:35 commuter flight to Montrose. I wanted to buy Marth a present. I cruised through a pet store where I met Columbus in the parrot section. He had spunk and a mouth. I liked him. I told them that I'd buy him if they could pack him so that I could carry him on the airplane," Charlie explained.
"They put him in a shoe box with holes punched in it. Unbelievable," Martha went on with petulance.
"Guys at the pet store came up with the idea. The baggage inspectors made the trouble. They made me put him through the x-ray machine. That's when he started squawking. Then they wanted me to open the box."
" 'If you want it open, you open it and live with the consequences,' I told them. They went through three levels of management to decide they didn't want a parrot flying around the terminal in Denver. So I got him on. What a great surprise it was for Martha when she opened that box. He went right to her. She named him in honor of his harrowing trip to a ‘New World’."
"From that day, Columbus had a one track mind...Bite Charles," Martha laughed.
"What were you doing in Denver?” asked Duff.
"Three days a month I do a clinic in the morning and work on the breast cancer project at Denver General then I run surgical rounds in the afternoon. I've got a tray full of slides. I get a little free travel on the university’s dime to present our projects at meetings. I'm a talking doctor, now."
"Are you going to move to Denver or stay in Montrose and practice with Ted? Two years ago you were toting up charges, how many procedures you did compared to Ted. It seemed like you were thinking there might not be enough work. You were scrapping with each other about the numbers, who was working harder. Ted was feeling strapped--what with the country club, the boat on Lake Powell and the house remodel--dragging his feet on your partnership agreement.” Duff went on.
"I'm staying Walker. I'm a rural surgeon, famous for it. Right after your last visit, I explained the rules to him: 'You’ve got to decide now. I’m going to have a job with equal partnership in a year somewhere’ He figured it right out. He had a rough draft partnership agreement the next morning. Things have been great for the last year and a half. Business has picked up. There's no baby-catcher in town, so we have been doing the C- sections and all the Gyn surgery. The income is plenty for the lifestyle in a little farming and ranching community," Charlie explained.
"And how did your million dollar U-pick strawberry farm work out in the back forty?" Duff switched topics, chuckling.
"You laugh, you turkey. It was a good idea. But Martha had to work like a dog at the end of the season to pull us up almost even." Charlie was laughing.
"What happened to the big dough?" Duff asked.
"Walker, the weeds killed us, just murdered us."
"The irrigation allotment didn't help," said Martha
"Martha, it sounds like you are out of the strawberry business," Pinky observed.
"With the last weed, I pulled the plug on the family strawberry farm in August." Martha said. She was quite clear on the decision. “Charlie's dad got the lung cancer, and we haven't had time for the get rich projects.”
"How is he doing now?" Duff asked.
"Ted did his surgery. It turned out to be a pretty tough case. They ended up taking some mediastinal nodes and dissecting tumor along the pleura off of the superior vena cava. He did a great job," Charlie said.
"No mets?"
"It has been a year and so far no recurrence. The emphysema is terrible though and getting steadily worse. It is going to kill him, but he is tough, still drinking beer and telling lies. Dad loves Ted, does anything that he says," Charlie replied.
"I'm surprised you didn't take him to the Medical Center in Denver."
"Walker, if you want to get well, stay in your small town hospital. Ted did a better job for the whole package than they can do at the med school. The main man is there on top of things every day, and it's better care."
"So your Dad is hooked by the nose, pushing an oxygen bottle around. I'll bet he hates that," Duff said.
"He does. He has it rigged up pretty cool though. We have a picture of him showing off his design in the book."
"Book?" Duff raised his eyebrows.
"Walker, I'm the editor of the next issue of the Surgical Clinics of North America. We called it Advances in Small Hospital Care. We even have a section in there by our radiologist on Arteriography in the Small Hospital. Things are hoppin' in our little town. I've got residents from the med school rotating through the practice. Ted and I are each going to do a six month job exchange with academic guys at the medical center. We are doing all the endoscopy in town. Ted does all the administration and most of the politics. He goes to the festival of trees, the Kiwanis lunches, and hospital retreats. It is a marriage made in heaven. He does all that crap that I just can't stand, and he loves it. His new house is the perfect set up for the obligatory entertainment. It even has one special little room for the punch bowl. It is like a pulpit surrounded by plate glass overlooking the perfectly manicured garden outside,” Charlie described
"Oh, no. Don't tell that," Martha groaned in anticipation from the back seat.
"I have to tell them," said Charlie. "The remodel went on and on, almost a year. The first event was my partnership party."
"You should have just told him not to do it. You knew what it would be,” Martha scolded.
"Yeah. All the country clubbers, competitive entertaining, social ranking. Phony as debutante's balls. I expected that. I did. Martha had to call for permission to invite the guys from the ranch and to ask Cal, who didn't make the country club cut."
"May did what Ted told her. She thought she had invited everybody in town. She pretty much did," Martha said defensively. She liked Ted’s wife.
"It was a gala affair, Walker. The food was terrific, top drawer yupster. Catered. The rum punch from the great silver bowl in the special room was even better. For two or three hours I explained individually to the upper crust of Montrose society that I had actually been a partner for almost two years, and the party had been awaiting the rebuild of Ted’s palace. We would then go to discuss, the spectacular construction results surrounding us."
"I don't know what got into him," Martha said. They could see the dread on her face.
"At about five o'clock I was filling my cup at the punch bowl. Cal appeared across from me. He held his cup over the center of the bowl for me to fill it. He took a drink, got a sparkle in his eye and said, "Abernathy, if you had a hair on your ass, you would grab that handle and help me toss this punch bowl out there onto the lawn."
"As we spoke I could hear the party sounds all around us. There was a din of glasses, plates, and voices in use. It sounded like F.X. McRorary's on Friday afternoon. Then, I don't recall what happened. There was a sudden full minute of suspended animation with absolute silence in every room of the house. That gave me time to get the trash can from the kitchen, go into the backyard, and begin picking the shards of glass out of the garden, every piece. For some reason I retrieved the ice cubes too. The house was empty in five minutes."
"So, were you angry or upset?"
"No. We just did it. I don't really know why. Afterwards, I felt strangely calm. No guilt. No anxiety. Just a little surprised at how completely we had shut the party down."
"Then what?"
"I told Ted good night and that I would have some one out in the morning to fix the window."
"So what did Ted say on Monday morning."
" 'The window is fixed.' We didn't have anything else to say. All was quiet on the western front, and we did business as usual -- We have continued as good friends. Just like your group does, Walker, we split the call, the money and the time off and we depend on each other for advice and help. It's up close and personal-- like being married, isn't it," Charlie replied.
"He didn't ask you why?"
"Nope. No questions."
"Walker, it is your turn. I heard you crashed your plane. You were lucky to come away with your fat ass. I just gathered up punch bowl full of glass fragments and ice cubes. You have to tell it."

It had been twenty years since that conversation in the car on the way to Telluride. We were at Charlie’s funeral when Pinky heard the story again, she said "Charlie comes across as impulsive or crazy – a real loose cannon," she says. "I didn't understand then either. He dropped a bomb. No explanation. Then both of them acted like it never happened. Maybe it was subconscious, but there had to be a reason."
"I just saw Ted,” Duff said. “I didn't recognize him. He looked a thousand years old, rode hard and put away wet. Ironically, I met him over a punch bowl. He seemed puzzled, trying to answer a question for himself. He said 'You know--I think he was bored. There just wasn't enough for him in Montrose.' I was thinking of a way to ask him about the punch bowl, but I wasn’t quick enough and his line moved faster than mine."
"There had to be a reason,” Pinky said.
"I've had three sets of partners, all still my friends, and I think that any of them would understand the punch bowl,” Duff said.
"Make me understand," Pinky said emphatically.
"Charlie had done a pyramid residency program where for the final year there is one chief resident remaining after the competitive elimination of the other four, one each year. At his last residency year Charlie's only competitor was Jim Fox who died of cancer. Charlie carried his ashes to the top of Long's Peak then did his year as the chief resident. He had made it to the Chief Resident slot and was rewarded with a research year in Boston with Judah Folkman. He was assured of an elite career in academic surgery. He had won. The whole thing was launched. After a year of turmoil, he recanted and opted for private practice in Montrose with his friend, Ted. In his first two years in Montrose he did more cases than Ted, brought in more money, edited the Surgical Clinics book, had a residency program integrated into their practice, and got the professor exchange program going with the med school. He later wrote the Surgical Secrets textbook, became a regent of the University of Colorado, invented an airway monitoring device and did the entire patent application himself. He was a quality guy for a small town like Montrose, wouldn't you say? Ted wanted him to work longer than the agreed period as a junior partner, made him review charts to collect statistics on the practice that proved his monetary contribution. He gave Charlie a belated partnership party which was really designed to show off his new house and impress his country club friends. Charlie had to beg invitations for the guests that he cared about. The punch bowl through the window was impulsive. At least there was no arduous heart to heart talk with accusations and explanations. They carried on. It became acceptable, actually a pretty happy partnership.”
"Are you carrying baggage like that?" asked Pinky.
"Some. So do my partners, all of them," Duff said.
"So, I should be braced for a punch bowl through the window the next time I entertain your partners?"
"Absolutely."