Summary | Excerpt | Reading Guide | Reviews | Beyond the Book | Readalikes | Genres & Themes | Author Bio
Stories
by Vincent Lam
Now, Karl was doing his surgical residency in Toronto,
and they avoided each other at family gatherings. He
had put his hand on her breast once this year, in an
upstairs hallway during a birthday party, and she had
threatened to scream.
It was four-fifteen in the morning.
She said, You thought I was so perfect.
You seem to have everything under such control.
I cultivate that notion. I used to stand in front of
the mirror and call myself slut, bitch. Not out loudI
was afraid someone would hear, so I mouthed the
words. I felt like I deserved to be called names. Then
Karl told me how good I was when we did what he
liked, and when I brought home my grades my parents
were happy and proud.
You were a kid. How could you know what to do?
That idea should absolve me, except it also takes
something away. I looked forward to seeing him,
although he was my nightmare. I got stuck. If I dont
recognize that I enjoyed certain things, even the sex,
then I was a stupid lump. No. I was there and made
decisions, but was I coerced? Of course. I got things, but
only some of them were what I asked for. These
thoughts go round and round. You know how I distract
myself ? I study. Every last little detail, and it fills my
head. Karl taught me how to study for markshow to
write all these stupid testsand now I forget myself by
stuffing my head full.
There was quiet, and then after a little while
Fitzgerald said, You know I love you. Again silence,
and then, I might as well say it.
It may be the same for me, but Im afraid of it.
At seven in the morning, when she woke up, Ming realized
that she had not asked Fitzgerald whether he was
coming to Toronto. Mings father delivered her to the
train station, the long line of travellers snaking under
the black maze of girders. She saw Fitzgerald buying a
ticket at the booth. Her father, for whom Fitzgerald was
an invisible telephone threat, was oblivious as Fitz
walked past them toward the end of the line. At the
platform, Mings father squeezed her and told her how
much honor she would bring to the family if she succeeded.
Ming boarded, and sat alone until she had
waved her father goodbye. Only then did she find
Fitzgerald. At nine-thirty, the soft clanking rhythm of
the iron wheels on the joints of the track came quicker
and closer as the train escaped Ottawas southern suburbs.
Exhausted from the sleepless night, Ming grasped
Fitzgeralds hand, and rested her head in the cleft
between his shoulder and chest, amazed at the way the
sides of their bodies fit together. It was a physical relief
for them to touch. He kissed the top of her head and, as
she fell asleep, Ming breathed in deeply this sweetly
unfamiliar warmth.
The above excerpt is the complete text of the short story "How To Get Into Medical School, Part 1" , pages 1-30 of Bloodletting & Miraculous Cures. Copyright (c) Dr. Vincent Lam, 2007. Reproduced with permission of the publisher. All rights reserved.
No matter how cynical you get, it is impossible to keep up
Click Here to find out who said this, as well as discovering other famous literary quotes!
Your guide toexceptional books
BookBrowse seeks out and recommends the best in contemporary fiction and nonfiction—books that not only engage and entertain but also deepen our understanding of ourselves and the world around us.