"Yes," answered Dean, annoyed at the young man's lack of concern for Cynthia Byrne. "Let's just do it."

The attendant ushered them into a sterile room of white tile and stainless steel. He checked a piece of paper he was carrying and mumbled, "Over here. Number six." He grasped the handle of tray number six but, before opening it, glanced down at Cynthia Byrne.

"You all right?" he asked.

"No, I'm not all right," she answered nervously. "But please do it!"

The attendant pulled out the tray with a jerk, nearly dislodg­ing the body. The corpse was covered with a white sheet, but before pulling the cloth back, the attendant again looked at Cynthia, who nodded. She was clutching Dean's arm with both hands so tightly he was numb to his fingertips. His arm was about her waist, supporting her whole body. The attendant slowly with­drew the cover, exposing a grotesque, bloated face. Cynthia let out a gasp and wilted like a flower in a furnace; a dead faint.

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The body looked like a flipped fish-a huge white under belly. But it wasn't Jeffrey Byrne. Dean knew immediately because he was staring at the bloated face of Billie or Willie Wassermann.

The attendant took one look at Cynthia and yelled, "Holy shit! I'll get Mr. Cole!" and ran from the room, leaving Dean hold­ing the unconscious woman, bent at the waist, feet off the floor, like a five-foot Raggedy-Ann doll. He started to say something to the fleeing attendant but instead lifted the limp body up in his arms to a more reasonable position and carefully carried her out to the anteroom. He was sitting there a few moments later with Cynthia Byrne still unconscious when the attendant reappeared with Mr. Cole, a young intern, in tow.

The intern took charge, directing them to a small room that contained a cot. He revived Cynthia and wrapped her tightly in a bright red blanket, stark contrast to her blanched pallor. She woke with a startled look on her face until she realized where she was. She then closed her eyes and began to cry. The intern patted Dean on the shoulder and winked.

"It's a shock seeing someone's loved one like that," the doctor said in his best bedside manner. Dean wanted to explain it was far more of a shock seeing a bloated Billie or Willie Wassermann with a head looking like a bleached basketball, but simply nodded instead.

"She'll be all right now," Intern Cole added leaving as quickly as he had arrived.

When Cynthia Byrne finally stopped crying, she wiped her eyes on the corner of the red blanket. "God, that was horrible."




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