"Who's Steven Patterson?"

"Dr. Patterson pioneered minimally invasive heart surgery. But between his schedule and his research, there's no chance that-"

David was gone.

He called Dr. Patterson's office from a pay phone in the hospital corridor. "I'd like to make an appointment with Dr. Patterson. It's for my mother. She-"

"I'm sorry. We're not accepting any new appointments. The first available time would be six months from now."

"She doesn't have six months," David shouted. David shouted.

"I'm sorry. I can refer you to-"

David slammed down the phone.

The following morning David went to Dr. Patterson's office. The waiting room was crowded. David walked up to the receptionist. "I'd like to make an appointment to see Dr. Patterson. My mother's very ill and-"

She looked up at him and said, "You called yesterday, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"I told you then. We don't have any appointments open, and we're not making any just now."

"I'll wait," David said stubbornly.

"You can't wait. The doctor is-"

David took a seat. He watched the people in the waiting room being called into the inner office one by one until finally he was the only one left.

At six o'clock, the receptionist said, "There's no point in waiting any longer. Dr. Patterson has gone home."

David went to visit his mother in intensive care that evening.

"You can only stay a minute," a nurse warned him. "She's very weak."

David stepped inside the room, and his eyes filled with tears. His mother was attached to a respirator with tubes running into her arms and through her nose. She looked whiter than the sheets she lay on. Her eyes were closed.

David moved close to her and said, "It's me, Mom. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You're going to be fine." Tears were running down his cheeks. "Do you hear me? We're going to fight this thing. n.o.body can lick the two of us, not as long as we're together. I'm going to get you the best doctor in the world. You just hang in there. I'll be back tomorrow." He bent down and gently kissed her cheek.

Will she be alive tomorrow?

The following afternoon, David went to the garage in the bas.e.m.e.nt of the building where Dr. Patterson had his offices. An attendant was parking cars.

He came up to David. "May I help you?"

"I'm waiting for my wife," David said. "She's seeing Dr. Patterson."

The attendant smiled. "He's a great guy."

"He was telling us about some fancy car that he owns." David paused, trying to remember. "Was it a Cadillac?"

The attendant shook his head. "Naw." He pointed to a Rolls-Royce parked in the corner. "It's that Rolls over there."

David said, "Right. I think he said he has a Cadillac, too."

"Wouldn't surprise me," the attendant said. He hurried off to park an incoming car.

David walked casually toward the Rolls. When he was sure no one was watching, he opened the door, slipped into the backseat and got down on the floor. He lay there, cramped and uncomfortable, willing Dr. Patterson to come out.

At 6:15, David felt a slight jar as the front door of the car opened and someone moved into the driver's seat. He heard the engine start, and then the car began to move.

"Good night, Dr. Patterson."

"Good night, Marco."

The car left the garage, and David felt it turn a corner. He waited for two minutes, then took a deep breath and sat up.

Dr. Patterson saw him in the rearview mirror. He said calmly, "If this is a holdup, I have no cash with me."

"Turn onto a side street and pull over to the curb."

Dr. Patterson nodded. David watched warily as the doctor turned the car onto a side street, pulled over to the curb and stopped.

"I'll give you what cash I have on me," Dr. Patterson said. "You can take the car. There's no need for violence. If-"

David had slid into the front seat. "This isn't a holdup. I don't want the car."

Dr. Patterson was looking at him with annoyance. "What the h.e.l.l do you want?"

"My name is Singer. My mother's dying. I want you to save her."

There was a flicker of relief on Dr. Patterson's face, replaced by a look of anger.

"Make an appointment with my-"

"There's no time to make a G.o.dd.a.m.n appointment." David was yelling. "She's going to die, die, and I'm not going to let that happen." He was fighting to control himself. "Please. The other doctors told me you're the only hope we have." and I'm not going to let that happen." He was fighting to control himself. "Please. The other doctors told me you're the only hope we have."

Dr. Patterson was watching him, still wary. "What's her problem?"

"She has a-a ruptured cord in her mitral valve. The doctors are afraid to operate. They say that you're the only one who can save her life."

Dr. Patterson shook his head. "My schedule-"

"I don't give a s.h.i.t about your schedule! This is my mother. You've got to save her! She's all I have..."

There was a long silence. David sat there, his eyes tightly shut. He heard Dr. Patterson's voice.

"I won't promise a d.a.m.n thing, but I'll see her. Where is she?"

David turned to look at him. "She's in the intensive care unit at San Francisco Memorial Hospital."

"Meet me there at eight o'clock tomorrow morning."

David had difficulty finding his voice. "I don't know how to-"

"Remember, I'm not promising anything. And I don't appreciate being scared out of my wits, young man. Next time, try the telephone."

David sat there, rigid.

Dr. Patterson looked at him. "What?"

"There's another problem."

"Oh, really?"

"I-I don't have any money. I'm a law student, and I'm working my way through law school."

Dr. Patterson was staring at him.

David said pa.s.sionately, "I swear I'll find a way to pay you back. If it takes all my life, I'll see that you get paid. I know how expensive you are, and I-"

"I don't think you do, son."

"I have no one else to turn to, Dr. Patterson. I-I'm begging you.

There was another silence.

"How many years of law school have you had?"

"None. I'm just starting."

"But you expect to be able to pay me back?"

"I swear it."

"Get the h.e.l.l out."

When David got home, he was certain he was going to be picked up by the police for kidnapping, threatening bodily harm, G.o.d only knew what. But nothing happened. The question in his mind was whether Dr. Patterson was going to show up at the hospital.

When David walked into the intensive care ward the next morning, Dr. Patterson was there, examining David's mother.

David watched, his heart pounding, his throat dry.

Dr. Patterson turned to one of a group of doctors standing there. "Get her up to the operating room, Al. Stat!"

As they started to slide David's mother onto a gurney, David said hoa.r.s.ely, "Is she-?"

"We'll see."

Six hours later, David was in the waiting room when Dr. Patterson approached him.

David jumped to his feet. "How is-?" He was afraid to finish the question.

"She's going to be fine. Your mother's a strong lady."

David stood there, filled with an overpowering sense of relief. He breathed a silent prayer. Thank you, G.o.d. Thank you, G.o.d.

Dr. Patterson was watching him. "I don't even know your first name."

"David, sir."

"Well, David sir, do you know why I decided to do this?"

"No..."

"Two reasons. Your mother's condition was a challenge for me. I like challenges. The second reason was you."

"I-I don't understand."

"What you did was the kind of thing I might have done myself when I was younger. You showed imagination. Now"-his tone changed-"you said you were going to repay me."

David's heart sank. "Yes, sir. One day-"

"How about now?"

David swallowed. "Now?" "Now?"

"I'll make you a deal. Do you know how to drive?"

"Yes, sir..."

"All right. I get tired of driving that big car around. You drive me to work every morning and pick me up at six or seven o'clock every evening for one year. At the end of that time, I'll consider my fee paid..."

That was the deal. David drove Dr. Patterson to the office and back home every day, and in exchange, Dr. Patterson saved the life of David's mother.

During that year, David learned to revere Dr. Patterson. Despite the doctor's occasional outbursts of temper, he was the most selfless man David had ever known. He was heavily involved in charity work and donated his spare time to free clinics. Driving to and from the office or hospital, he and David had long talks.

"What kind of law are you studying, David?"

"Criminal law."

"Why? So you can help the d.a.m.n scoundrels get off scotfree?"

"No, sir. There are a lot of honest people caught up in the law who need help. I want to help them."

When the year was up, Dr. Patterson shook David's hand and said, "We're even..."

David had not seen Steven Patterson in years, but he kept coming across his name.