A Body in the Backyard: #4

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

The town of Bradley had been very pleased to have Dr. Bass move back to town, Myrtle remembered, as she walked the short distance down the dogwood-lined street to the downtown office the next day. 

The previous dentist had been Dr. Bissell. He'd been as old as Myrtle and determined not to retire. He'd been taking care of the dental needs for the town since Myrtle had been in her early twenties. One day, he'd taken his usual lunchtime nap in the office (the office always closed for lunch between the hours of twelve and one) and hadn't woken up. It had shocked Pam the hygienist to pieces and she'd taken to her bed for well-nigh on to a month. 

Luckily, considering that Bradley was a town that enjoyed sweets, one of its own had returned to town to take over the small practice. Dr. Bass had grown up in Bradley and was happy to step in. He even kept Pam as hygienist, and persuaded her that she had recuperated from her shock by that point. For the past five years, Dr. Bass had ministered to the Bradley citizen's teeth with few complaints from the populace. Except that sometimes there was a long wait.  

This was a morning that involved waiting. Myrtle sighed. It was probably because they'd worked her into their schedule, but she'd already been there for twenty minutes with absolutely no sign of being taken back. She looked morosely around the waiting room. Same vinyl chairs mixed in with high-backed wooden chairs. There were a few anemic-looking plants that appeared to be in desperate need of water. Myrtle reached for a magazine. It was a magazine on healthy living that was months old. She made a face and put it back. The others were just as uninteresting: one on motorbikes, a gardening magazine, an RV magazine, and one on camping. Bleh. 

She never thought she'd be so relieved to be called back to the dentist. Of course, she had to see Pam, the hygienist, first. She'd forgotten that Pam would actually clean her teeth. Myrtle sighed. 

Pam was too cheerful, Myrtle thought. And she had that irritating habit of calling everyone over the age of sixty sweetheart and other pet names. She wasn't Pam's sweetheart or pet. She wasn't anyone's sweetheart and she wasn't cute or darling. And never had been. 

This went on for some time while Myrtle gritted the teeth that Pam was trying to clean. 

Pam simpered, "Darlin', you need to relax just a little bit. It's too hard for me to clean these pretty teeth of yours." 

Myrtle frowned at her, a realization dawning. "Didn't I teach you?" asked Myrtle. "A long time ago? Thirty-five years ago, maybe?" 

Pam's bright smile faltered and her voice got tighter, "Yes ma'am, I believe you might have." 

Funny how quickly a darlin' changed into a ma'am.  

Dr. Bass was apparently wildly busy. Myrtle could hear him in another room, checking the teeth of another patient. Then she heard him in the room next door. Finally, he stuck his head into her room. Pam, however, wasn't quite done with the cleaning. This was probably due to Myrtle's clenched teeth earlier, which had delayed the process.  

The dentist came over to politely say hello. He looked to be in his mid-thirties with a thick head of red hair. "Hi, Mrs. Clover. I see you're not done yet, so I'm going to run over and check another patient and come right back." 

Myrtle tried to say something, but Pam stuck one of those sucking instruments in her mouth and she had to hurry to get her tongue out of the way. Pam blinked innocently at Myrtle, but she swore she saw a trace of vindictiveness there. Myrtle had one-upped her in their little verbal volley.  

Myrtle quickly became more compliant a patient in the hopes that Pam would finally finish the cleaning, and she could have that conversation with Hugh Bass. Preferably without Pam in the room.