White Ghost by Steven Gore

bad.”
    â€œNausea?”
    â€œA little.”
    â€œDizziness?”
    â€œOccasionally.”
    â€œUnbutton your shirt. Let me check for any changes in the lumps.”
    Stern felt along the inside of Gage’s collarbone, under his chin, and pressed hard into his armpits.
    â€œWhere’s Faith today?”
    â€œShe had a class to teach. I told her I’d bring her back a sucker.”
    Stern laughed. “Sorry, I’m fresh out.” Then she tilted her head toward two bone marrow biopsy syringes laying on the counter. “You ready?”
    â€œHave you been working out?”
    â€œEvery day.”
    â€œThen I guess I’m ready.”
    â€œI can give you a muscle relaxer. That may make it easier.”
    Gage shook his head. “I’ll pass. I need to be alert later. I’m working on something.”
    Stern pointed toward the end of the exam table.
    â€œTake off your belt and unbutton your pants, then lean over and slide yourself up. I need good access to your lower back and hip.”
    Gage did as instructed.
    Stern pulled down Gage’s slacks just far enough to expose his hips, then rubbed alcohol over his right hipbone and injected a local anesthetic.
    â€œI’m going after some of the liquid, then after the bone marrow itself.”
    Stern poked at Gage’s anesthetized skin with the needle and asked, “Can you feel that?”
    â€œOnly pressure, no pain.”
    Gage then felt all of Stern’s hundred and thirty pounds lean into his hip and the corkscrew motion of the needle. He caught his breath as the hollow needle broke through the outer shell of the hipbone and drove into the marrow. She aspirated some of the liquid marrow, detached the plunger from the syringe, and set it on the counter. He then heard her attach another one.
    â€œNow comes the hard part. Try to stay relaxed.”
    Stern began rotating the needle, driving it harder, forcing a sliver of bone and marrow up into the needle.
    â€œHang in there, I’ve almost got it.”
    Then she released the pressure.
    Gage breathed out and pain iced through him as she extracted the needle.
    â€œJeez . . . I didn’t expect that.”
    â€œThat’s the one you’re supposed to get the sucker for. Too bad I’m—”
    â€œFresh out.”
    Gage belted his pants, then took a few steps around the examining room, testing his right leg.
    â€œI don’t think you’re the squeamish type. You want to see what I took out?”
    Stern held up a liquid-filled glass vial in which there stood an inch-and-a-half sliver of bone and marrow about the thickness of a small nail.
    â€œDon’t worry, it’ll grow back.”
    â€œI’m not worried.” Gage flashed a smile. “I didn’t figure you’d break something you couldn’t fix.”
    â€œI’ll have the results the day after tomorrow. Then I’d like to bring in a few youngsters and put together a treatment plan.”
    â€œA little show-and-tell?”
    â€œWe’re a research and teaching hospital after all and we need the Graham Gages to keep the kids entertained.”
    Gage eased down onto a chair next to Stern’s. “I’ve been doing a little research myself. No one seems to know why normal cells mutate into cancer cells. It seems like an evolutionary misfire.”
    â€œAll evolution, good and bad, is fundamentally a matter of mutation. It’s just that this mutation makes a particular individual less able to survive in the environment.”
    â€œI think that’s what Charles Darwin called extinction.”
    â€œIt would be, except he didn’t know about chemotherapy.”
    â€œBut why lymphoma? I can’t find anyone who claims to have found what causes it.”
    â€œThere is no known cause. Not pollution, smoking, diet. It’s nothing you did to yourself.”
    Gage smiled again. “So it’s like a guilt-free