It was a calm Tuesday evening at St. Simon’s Hospital. Top surgeon, Dr. Franklin McCombs, was filling out some paperwork while half-mindedly finishing the last of many crossword puzzles he completed that day. When days were slow at the hospital and there were no lives to be saved, McCombs filled out crossword after crossword, a hobby shared by him and his wife Kelly. The two playfully competed against each other to see who could finish first. Kelly would always win and jokingly say, “better luck next time, Frankie,” and poke and tease him until his frown of defeat turned into a loving smile.

Dr. McCombs finished the last of his paper work and put it neatly back in a folder. He could now turn his attention fully to his crossword. He was so immersed in his game that he could no longer hear nurses gossiping or the squeaks of shoes on the white, newly polished floor.  It was just his thoughts running rampant about what the fifteen-letter word for three across could possibly be. His mind blanked when trying to come up with a fifteen-letter word for a local tragedy. Deeper and deeper into his thoughts, McCombs had no sense of what was going on in the world around him until an ear-piercing scream came from the reception area. Dr. McCombs immediately sprang up from his crossword coma and ran to the front desk to investigate the scream. But as he turned the corner to enter the lobby, his heroic instincts transformed into devastation and tears rolling down his face. He fell to his knee and began sobbing into his quivering hands. Standing right beside a gurney was his sister-in-law Helen, and on that gurney, laid his wife Kelly. Her body looked lifeless. Breathlessly, he asked Helen what happened. She was trying to speak, but the words would not come out. She took a big gasp of air and was finally able to say, “she said she had chest pains. Then she collapsed.” McCombs pushed the nurses aside and personally rushed Kelly to get a CT Scan. She was then placed in the best hospital room St. Simon’s had to offer. She was given I.V.s to keep her hydrated and she was stable. As Dr. McCombs was holding her limp hand, he noticed her heartbeat was very sporadic. He impatiently waited for the CT Scan results.
After one look at the results, his stomach dropped. Somehow, his wife’s pulmonary artery, along with other veins, had wrapped themselves around her heart, basically cutting off blood flow to the rest of her body. Nothing like this had ever been seen before. There was no known name for this condition. No known procedure could fix her heart. Kelly was running out of time. McCombs knew he needed to operate quickly to save his wife’s life.

Kelly was transferred into the operating room. McCombs put on his scrubs and mask knowing that he was going to be the reason his wife lived or died. Just before he was about to make the first incision, his hand started to shake. Everyone started to look at each other searching for answers because McCombs was known for having the steadiest hand in all of California. His unstable hand caused him to leave the operating room. McCombs had never felt so embarrassed and defeated. He pushed his way through nurses while knocking over tables covered with important instruments. He entered the dimly lit hallway and banged his fist against the wall screaming, “God help me!” McCombs turned around and to his surprise, a peculiar, tall, black haired man, dressed in all black was right in front of him, but he could have sworn that the hallway was empty just moments before. The man asked the doctor what troubled him. Dr. McCombs’ response was at a head rattling volume. He screamed, “my wife is dying in there and I’m the one who is supposed to perform this surgery that has never been done before!” The man told McCombs to take it easy. He took out a small leather notebook with tattered paper in its bindings. He said, “What would you pay to save your precious wife?” McCombs screamed back, “ANYTHING!” The man licked his index finger and began flipping through page after page in his little book. He held out an old pen and said, “sign my book and you’ll save your wife, but I’ll take something from you.” With no other options, Dr. McCombs snatched the pen and scribbled “Franklin McCombs” in the mysterious man’s leather notebook. The man in black closed the book and slipped it back into his pocket with a devilish grin on his face. He said, “Go now, save your wife” with a chuckle. McCombs went back into the operating room and preformed a flawless surgery. With lots of support from her husband and the rest of the hospital staff, along with lots of crossword puzzles, Kelly was back to her old, healthy self in just three days.

After getting her legs back under her, Kelly was released from the hospital. She said her thank you and goodbyes to the hospital staff. She slowly walked from the front desk to the automatic glass doors while draping herself on Franklin’s arm. She turned and whispered to him, “I don’t know how I can ever repay you.” He said back softly, “I’m just glad you’re okay, there’s no need to repay me.” Suddenly, Kelly found herself stumbling, trying to catch her balance. It was if McCombs had just disappeared. She looked back and was instantly paralyzed by fear. Where her sweet husband stood just a moment ago, was a pile of dust. Kelly could not comprehend what had just taken place. As she stood motionless, a tall, black haired man dressed in all black, dragged his feet through the pile of dust with a grin that took up his whole face. He placed a check mark in his small, leather notebook next to a name that had only been written in just days ago. Before she could even speak to see what the man was doing, he vanished, leaving behind only a crumpled crossword puzzle with the name “Franklin McCombs” filled in for three across.