Punish the Sinners by John Saul Page A

nurses had decided the clothes could wait.
    “Your parents will be here any minute now,” one of the nurses said gently, patting Judy on the hand. “How are we feeling?”
    “I don’t want to see them,” Judy muttered, pulling her hand away.
    “Of course you do,” the nurse smiled. “We all want to see our parents, don’t we?”
    Judy glared at the nurse. “J don’t,” she snapped. “Why don’t you leave me alone?”
    The nurse didn’t answer her, merely moved to another chair, a little way from the bed. She ignored Judy’s sullen stare and occupied herself with several unnecessary readings of Judy’s chart.
    In the reception area of the emergency room, Mrs. Williams was trying to explain the situation to Inez and George Nelson. George seemed to be listening carefully, but Inez was tapping her foot nervously, as if waiting for all the “nonsense” to be over with, so she could see her daughter.
    “We don’t really know what happened,” Mrs. Williams was saying. “Or perhaps I should say we don’t know
why
. Judy won’t talk to anybody about it, and until she does, well …” Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged eloquently.
    “Could you tell me exactly what you
do
know?” Inez asked sharply.
    Mrs. Willams sighed. These things were so difficult. Thank God they practically never happened. Brusquely she began telling the story to the Nelsons.
    “Apparently Judy didn’t leave the school this afternoon. Instead, she went to the girls’ locker room, off their gymnasium, and waited until she thought everyone had gone home. Then she found a razor blade, and cut her wrists.” When she saw the color draining from Inez’s face she hastened to explain. “It isn’t as bad as it sounds,” she rushed on. “As a matter of fact, it’s next to impossible to do enough damage to yourself with razor blades to die, except under certain circumstances. Mostly, it just hurts a bit, and causes a lot of mess. Anyway, Judy must have gotten scared as soon as she cut herself, because she called the police right away. Of course the police called us, but by the time our ambulance got there, it was all pretty much over with.”
    “Over with?” George asked. “What do you mean, over with?”
    “One of the janitors at the school found her,” Mrs. Williams said. “Fortunately, he wasn’t the kind to get upset at the sight of blood, and he had her wrists bandaged before anybody else could get there. It wasn’t the best bandaging job I ever saw, but it wasn’t the worst, either. Doctor put in a few stitches and rebandaged the wrists, and Judy should be fine in a day or so.” Mrs. Williams tried to smile brightly, as if the whole incident were no worse than a scraped knee.
    “I want to see her, “Inez said suddenly.
    “Yes,” Mrs. Williams began. “I … I’m sure you do. But I’m afraid you’ll have to talk to the doctor first.” Now she was showing definite signs of discomfort
    “The doctor?” George said. “Which doctor?”
    “Dr. Shields,” Mrs. Williams said nervously.
    “Shields?” George Nelson repeated. “He’s a psychiatrist, isn’t he?”
    “Yes—” She started to explain. Inez cut her off.
    “A psychiatrist? Just to bandage Judy’s wrists? I don’t understand.” Mrs. Williams was sure she did understand; she just didn’t want to face it.
    “I’m sure you do,” she said. Suddenly, since the issue was met, she felt on firmer ground. “With wounds like Judy’s, calling in a psychiatrist is standard procedure.”
    “Wounds like Judy’s?” Inez said vaguely.
    “I think she means self-inflicted wounds,” George said quietly. Inez’s face remained blank. Shock, George realized; she must have gone into shock and blocked out the details of what happened. He signaled Mrs. Williams aside.
    “Is Dr. Shields around?” he whispered. “I’d like to talk to him, and I think he should probably have a look at my wife, too.”
    Suddenly understanding his meaning, Mrs. Williams