Blue Damask Read Free Page B

mind, no matter your research.”
         Elsa snapped.  “Too young?  They think I am too female .”
         The doctor smiled.  “Yes.  If you were a homely hausfrau you might quickly find yourself with a doctorate and pushed firmly into treating hysteria among the menopausal.”
         She nodded absently, thinking.  She had already overcome much polite derision.  She was used to it.  But her paper this fall would deliver stunning insights into the minds of the wounded veterans and bring some light into areas of the psyche that cannot be examined in times of peace.
         Doctor Shultz interrupted her thoughts, “Elsa.”
         She looked at him.  “You are saying my work will not be accepted at the conference.”
         “I am not saying that.”  He didn’t have to.  His face said it for him.
         Elsa backed up slowly until she felt the seat of the upholstered chair behind her knees.  She sat carefully and folded her hands on her lap.  She felt her face grow very warm and made an effort to breathe regularly and evenly.  She slid her hand into the breast pocket of her suit and took out her handkerchief and hoped the slight catch in her throat was inaudible.
         It was not.  Doctor Engel leaned forward.  “Elsa.  What I see here in this file would create a sensation in Vienna.  This file contains the genesis of a career that could not be put down by even the most misogynist of professors.  There is an opportunity here that exists because you are female, not in spite of it.”
         She turned her head slowly and touched the handkerchief to her nose.  “ If I am successful in treating Mr. Sinclair.”
         The doctor raised both eyebrows.  “Of course you will be successful.  He is not insane.”
         Elsa sniffed.  “You are so certain, Herr Doctor.  Perhaps you humor me.”  It occurred to her for the first time that Doctor Engel might be just like the other men.
         Engel leaned back against the sofa cushions.  “I can see you are upset.  Disappointed.  Disillusioned.  But the truth is necessary.  I do not humor you, as you say.  I have no time for that.”
         Elsa tried not to think about the conference, but there it was, always at the front of her mind.  It had dominated her focus for nine months.  She had attended last year as a member of the audience and a student.  She had imagined herself at the podium.  The applause for the speakers became applause for her.  The hand-shaking and pats on the backs of the new graduates became her accolades.  She had imagined it all.
         She imagined her own practice, by necessity first in the stark halls of the hospitals, but then later a comfortable clinic, and finally a warm office attached to her own house.  If she accepted this patient it would push her plans back an entire year.  But on the other hand, if her paper were rejected this fall, she would be finished.  There would be no plans.  She might be able to write another paper, but in the minds of the professors she would not be a brilliant new doctor emerging on the scene with acclaim but a struggling female interloper, trying again and again to get into the club.
         The doctor could read those thoughts on her face. “Elsa.  This is the time when you leave the comfort of academia and my fine parlor and grasp the difficulty of wrestling a human mind away from despair in the real world.  It is time.  Can you do it?”   He asked her softly.  “What an extraordinary paper that would be.”
         Elsa clenched her hands into fists.  She must not squeeze into her profession.  She must make a name for herself at the very start. “I can do it, Herr Doctor.  I can do anything.”
         He smiled.  “One of the benefits of travel is the amount of time spent waiting for trains and cars and boats.  You will have plenty of opportunities to write.  Talk to Mr. Sinclair.  Heal him if you can.