Let’s Meet Dr. John Bennett!

A Behind-the-Scenes Glimpse of the hero of Resisting the Off-Limits Pediatrician 😍

One of my favorite ways to get to know my characters and their “voice” is to write a little short story about them. Usually this is “For My Eyes Only,” but I thought y’all might enjoy this behind-the scenes glimpse of Dr. John Bennett, the lion-hearted hero of my debut novel, Resisting the Off-Limits Pediatrician. John is the founder and sole doctor (until our lovely heroine, Charlotte, joins the team!) at The Sunshine Clinic for Kids, an urban medical clinic that cares for Seattle’s unhoused youth and at-risk teens. John became a caretaker to his younger brother when he was still quite young himself. That experience forged him into a fierce protector of the vulnerable… but also made it hard to feel safe to pursue his own dreams.

The following not-in-the-book scene captures the night before John’s younger brother was arrested for drug possession, triggering John’s guilt at failing to protect his brother and also making him the guardian of his 11-year-old niece, Piper.

My Brother’s Keeper

The night before he was arrested, Michael hung out with me on The House Call. He’s not exactly a Do-It-Yourself kind of guy, but I thought I could trust him to stain the woodwork while I worked on the propeller and engine belts. Damn if I didn’t have run herd to keep him on track. Then he disappeared. Again.

That was over an hour ago and I’m fighting the urge to look for him. He’s probably at the marina café, buying up every snack-sized bag of chips they’ve got, along with a bucket-sized tumbler of cold soda. 

Just the same as it’s ever been. You’ve got to look out for him, John. He’s got nobody but you. Warning words from my mom that terrified me when we were little. My middle school dreams were haunted by images of Michael following his wanderlust and getting lost, hit by a car, or snatched away by some freak. That fear followed me into the daylight, making me clutch Michael’s hand in a death-grip when we had to cross busy streets. 

John, you’re hurting me! 

Why was I so hard on him? It wasn’t his fault our future was so bleak. That guilt fell squarely on my Dad’s shoulders. Leaving my mom alone with two little kids to raise and a stack of bills on the kitchen table that made her cry late at night when she thought I was asleep.

Where the hell did Mikey go? I grab a rag and wipe oil from my fingers but it’s too late. My nail beds are packed with oil and grease. The kids at The Sunshine Clinic will notice and ask me all about it. You live on a boat? That is so cool, doc! I keep a picture of the 33’ sailboat I call home in my office.  Not the way she is now. The way I found her. Broken and abused, unwanted. With nearly a foot of water in the bilge and mold growing on the headliner, The House Call was headed for the wrecking yard before I spotted her “for sale” sign at the marina office. 

Nobody wanted her, I tell my homeless teen patients. But I knew what she was capable of. She had potential. 

Do they get it? Do they see the truth in that picture? We are not our pasts. That’s what I want them to believe, but is it true? All my life, I’ve been Michael’s Keeper. Stepping up to fill the space my runaway father left behind. 

But I’m not a little kid anymore. Neither is Michael. Shouldn’t it be safe for me to let down my guard? To focus on my dreams for a change? 

To just catch my damn breath. 

I don’t know. Something’s not right with Michael, but he won’t talk to me. All I can do is help as much as I can for as long as I can. It’s what I do for the teens and Michael. And what I will gladly do for Piper, my 11-year-old niece, if her world ever crashes down around her.

Why am I thinking that way? Michael’s right here. With me. Or at least he was. 

It’s gotten dark. Like ink black, can’t-see-your-hand-in-front-of-your-face dark. The marina café is closed now, so where the hell is Michael? 

I should make dinner. Michael needs protein to balance all those carbs he favors. Maybe a Swiss and bacon omelet. His favorite.

Hide the beer before he comes back. He needs milk, vegetables, a twelve-hour nap. Not more alleys of addiction that promise escape but are actually traps.

Did he leave the marina? Damn, where’s my wallet? I check the map station where I store tide tables and then my back pocket. Phew, my wallet’s still there, so that’s good. I try to remember if I left anything sellable lying around. He’s been like this all his life. Standing right next to me one minute, then disappearing in a Houdini-like illusion the next. He marches to different rhythms and gods than I do. He hears siren calls beyond my range that beckon him away from jobs, friends, even his daughter.

I can’t help it. I jump off the boat to the dock. I’ll just check the parking lot, see if his truck is still here. That’s when I sight him, sitting cross-legged at the end of the dock. Wearing my sweater, of course. It’s fine. There are plenty of sweaters in the clinic’s donation box. I can get another.

Ocean waves, petered out from their long trip inland, lap gently against the wood mooring. But the moon is hidden behind clouds tonight. No silvery orb to reflect in the water. 

The dock frames Michael like a train track, making his exhaled smoke look like steam from a locomotive. Like he’s chugging away from me in slow motion, right into the abyss. I wish he would sleep. Why won’t he sleep? Instead, he smokes. The light from a single dock lamp highlights the smoke, so that my brother appears to be communing with spirits. Maybe he’s conjuring our mother, dead from exhaustion and neglect, for one last séance. 

His glasses are folded next to him, because there is nothing to see. I could go to him, sit right next to him, but he’d still be alone. Maybe he’ll stub his cigarette out on the dock soon. Rise to his feet in that limber way of his. Throw me an aw-shucks grin that says, you’re the boss, applesauce. I’ll grouse about the snacks and the work. He’ll promise to do better. We’ll both ignore how skinny he is.

But he doesn’t stub out his cigarette. He just keeps smoking and studying the black ocean.

So, I wait. And watch over him.

_{(Thank you to Pixabay for the image!  Image by <a href=”https://pixabay.com/photos/?utm_source=link-attribution&amp;utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_campaign=image&amp;utm_content=1031060″>Free-Photos</a&gt; from <a href=”https://pixabay.com/?utm_source=link-attribution&amp;utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_campaign=image&amp;utm_content=1031060″>Pixabay</a&gt;)}