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Olga Dies Dreaming(93)

Author:Xochitl Gonzalez

Dr. Gallagher now paused. Prieto could tell she was a smart woman, beyond just the medical books. “So,” she began, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m a political junkie, so it’s a delight to meet you, but it’s … uncommon to have a brother accompany his sister to her gynecologist.”

Olga replied before he could think of an explanation.

“Well, Marilyn, as I mentioned in my email … some stuff has come up recently that made me think it would be good to do a full HIV/STD screen.”

He found himself relieved, but irked, that Olga always had an answer for everything.

“Okay,” Dr. Gallagher answered, slowly, knowing there was more.

“It’s just that it’s not me that needs the screening—”

There was a pause. Prieto looked down at his shoes and the vinyl beige marbled tiles.

“It’s me,” Prieto said, raising his hand up. “I, um, engaged in some risky behavior with someone I now know contracted an STD and I just want to, confidentially, get myself checked out. I don’t really have a personal physician that I trust.”

“What kind of STD? Do you know?” Marilyn asked.

He swallowed. “HIV.”

“You know, Congressman, they have home tests that you can send in the mail, completely confidential. Totally anonymous.”

“Marilyn?” Olga now interjected. “Would you let your brother take a correspondence course AIDS test?”

Marilyn shook her head no. There was a silence; Prieto wondered if her sense of rules and regulations was as gray as his sister’s.

“November sixth. Seven P.M. The Bowery Hotel. Be there.”

“Excuse me?” Prieto asked.

“My husband and I are cochairing a gala for a charter school network we support. We need a high-wattage keynote.”

Damn, Prieto thought, everyone really does have a price. Three attempts to get blood later, Dr. Gallagher finally found the vein.

“Now, Olga, the lab will reach out by phone in a few days—”

“Wait!” Prieto interrupted. “I, uh, I’d read about these rapid HIV tests. You know, where they tell you right away. I was kind of hoping we could do one of those?”

“Congressman,” Dr. Gallagher offered, “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but my office isn’t equipped to do the rapid test. That might be an oversight on our part; it’s just that HIV testing … my patient demographic is mainly concerned about weight loss and fertility specialists. I’ll have to send the results out to the lab.”

Prieto sighed and the doctor continued.

“Olga, don’t ignore random calls, because they won’t leave a message and they don’t send me the results. It’s truly confidential.”

He was seated on a chair, keeping his focus on the tiles, one hand on his head, the other putting pressure on the site where blood was drawn, trying not to hyperventilate.

“Congressman,” the doctor said as she squatted down so that they were eye level. Like Lourdes’s pediatrician would do. “Probably, you’re worrying more than you need to. But I just want to remind you, there are a lot of resources out there now and people with HIV live very long, robust lives. Especially, if you don’t mind me being so frank, people with some access and connections. Don’t spend too much time sulking, okay?”

He wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t, that he appreciated her favor, even if he was fundamentally opposed to charter schools, but he found his throat too tight to speak past. She patted his shoulder and just as he thought he might actually break down, his phone began to ring. It was the governor.

* * *

IT DIDN’T TAKE a crisis management expert to understand that the federal government had chosen to put their heads in the sand when it came to preparing for Maria’s arrival. Excuses abounded: FEMA was too overwhelmed with recovery from Irma and Harvey to preemptively assist P.R. The Navy was worried about the comfort ships weathering the storm in the Port of San Juan. But for Prieto, the ultimate tell that this was a case of willful neglect was the failure to fully deploy the National Guard in advance of the storm. Always the first line of defense in a disaster, out of eight thousand guardsmen, they called in five hundred. On an island already suffering a blackout. It was clear that Puerto Rico was being left to dangle in the wind. This was a familiar place for the United States to leave the island, but somehow, it felt more ominous this time. Prieto was unable to shake his recollection of the Selby brothers’ recent interest in the goings-on down there.

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