When the song ended, we pulled up to Doc Lopez’s office, but to be honest, it looked more like a play house than a doctor’s office. The outside was painted bright yellow, and it had murals on the floor of the front porch and hand-made mobiles hanging from the porch’s sky-blue ceiling. I wasn’t sure if I was comfortable with a doctor who worked in a place that looked like an entrance to a carnival. 

Yogi turned off the truck and the silence was deafening. 

For a moment, nobody spoke, then Yogi said quietly, “Lindy stayed here the nights she felt really sick. When she was well enough to be on her feet, she helped out Doc with his other patients. They were all kids. She did crafts with them and painted and read them books, all sorts of stuff. Nowadays Doc always has some kind of activity like that for them. We call it ‘Lindy’s Healing Arts.’ Doc thinks it actually helps the kids heal as much as real medicine. Of course, most doctors think he’s crazy, but I, for one, believe him. Kids would come here from the hospital where they’d been sitting alone in those awful, sterile rooms, but once they got here, they got better. I saw it with own eyes.” 

We fell into silence again. I felt like I should say something, but I didn’t know what. 

Bones leaned past me and popped open the passenger door. “Thanks, Yogi. This looks like such a cool place. Let’s go and see if I still have cancer!” 

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