Who is Doctor Haversham?

Polk: This reporter has spent a great deal of time lately in the small town of Nanson, and has had plenty of time to observe the results of Dr. Danforth Haversham's amazing medicines (see: Doctor Haversham's Miracle Cures, June, 1997, vol. 4, Issue #7). Since my last report, I have spoken to over a dozen more satisfied customers of Haversham's. It seems the good doctor's expertise is quite a ranging one. In addition to his skill in removing ailments such as lung infection, arthritis and ulcers, I have gathered reports that he has had similar success with migraine headaches, skin afflictions (including the partial healing of scar tissue), meningitis, impetigo and high blood pressure, just to name a few.

     I decided in August to visit the doctor again, and ask him what he thought of his phenomenal success in this little Iowa town. I must admit I was also a little curious why he chose to practice here, instead of in some metropolis where his services would be even more appreciated. But first I wanted to get the opinions of others in his field.

     I traveled to Zoar and spoke with Dr. Miriam Lightfoot, Director of the Pharmacy at the Podebrad Medical Center. I explained to her the miraculous effects of Haversham's potion-medicines, and noted that they were even more miraculous because they were made of rather common elements, such as herb and ordinary foodstuffs. She seemed skeptical, as I suspected she would be, and suggested that the doctor was merely doling out placebos. I had to protest, of course. Placebos have their place in medical science, but I had never heard of a placebo able to cure meningitis. Dr. Lightfoot's brow furrowed as our conversation continued. Then it was her turn to ask me questions. She asked where Haversham was from and what sort of medicine he was practicing. Of course, I didn't have the answers to those questions, and had hoped that she would. I thanked the professor for her time and returned to Nanson.

     Though Nanson is not home to a hospital it does support the Nanson Community Health Center, a small facility which manages to handle all of Nanson's medical problems though it is not outfitted with all the latest technological advances. The front desk was in the only waiting room in the building, the room being only as large as a small one-bedroom apartment. The man behind the desk, a certain Bill Waters, asked me what my ailment was. I explained that I had suffered from a mild form of arthritis for the past ten years, and asked whether there might be a doctor on duty who could take a look at my hands. He said yes, that the wait wouldn't be more than fifteen minutes.

     Sure enough, a bespectacled man in his late thirties appeared about ten minutes later. He led me to an examining room, and there I explained to him that I am a reporter for Third Eye Over Iowa and that I am doing research into Dr. Haversham's business. I further explained that while I had already received treatment from him for my arthritis, I wanted a second opinion to see if the affliction was truly gone.

     The doctor, Niles Thorpe, performed a very thorough investigation of my hands and fingers. When he finished, he sat back in his chair and took off his glasses.

     "Ms. MacDougal, I don't know what to tell you," he said. "As far as I can tell---it looks like you've never had arthritis in your life. There are weird cases on the books where young people become afflicted with a short-term arthritis which can disappear and then return much later in life. But this! There is no residual tissue or any kind of irregularities to make me think there was ever arthritis there in the first place."

     "Is there any medicine that can eliminate arthritis?" I asked, amazed.

     Dr. Thorpe chuckled. "If there were, do you think you'd see all those Tylenol and other pain-killer commercials geared toward the elderly with arthritis on TV? No, as far as I can tell, our friend Dr. Danforth Haversham is an honest-to-God miracle worker." Then he added, not quite jokingly enough, "Seems I'm going to be out of work soon." I thanked the doctor for his time and paid my bill.

     I walked to Haversham's office that afternoon. No other patients were present in his small waiting room, so I asked the doctor if he would be up for a few more questions. The short, pink pudgy man behind the desk agreed. I then asked if it would be all right If I recorded the interview, and he consented. I regret that the interview did not last long, and the following transcription should help explain why:

     HANNAH MACDOUGAL: Dr. Haversham, you've only been in Nanson for a short while, but already the success stories are mounting. Why did you choose to bless this sleepy little town with your skills?

     DANFORTH HAVERSHAM: I have worked most extensively in the East, and only in small towns comprising some of the poorest people on Earth. When I did what I could there, I came here. The large cities already have too many doctors. I much prefer villages.

     HMD: Well, everyone here is glad to have you. You said you came from the East. Does that mean the Middle East or the Far East?

     DH: Yes.

     HMD: Well, which is it? Middle of Far?

     DH: I do not think it matters. I have been many places in the East.

     HMD: Israel, for example?

     DH: Yes, that was it.

     HMD: How about China? Did you ever practice there?

     DH: Yes, that was it. The East.

     HMD: Well, you've certainly come a long way. Now about your medicine, what form of healing do you practice, exactly?

     DH: There is no name for it in your language.

     HMD: What do you call it?

     DH: There is no name for it in any language, but does it not work?

     HMD: It certainly does, Doctor. Your ability to diagnose medical problems seems to be as unparalleled as your ability to cure afflictions. Now, have you given any thought as to the nature of the two people whose internal organs turned into a viscous black substance? (See: Grotesque Death Worries Nanson Residents, June, 1997, vol. 4, Issue #6 and Nanson Coroner's Hands Full, August, 1997, vol. 4, Issue #8.)

     DH: I do not know; I am not the coroner. Miss MacDougal, this interview is over.

     Something I said must surely have upset him; his eyes were burning with intensity as he showed me the door. Perhaps it was the final reference I made to the Nanson murders, and maybe he knows something about them. At any rate, I doubt that the doctor will be granting me further interviews. I only hope that soon the mystery of Doctor Haversham's miracle cures may be solved.