The committee was crowded in the examination room with the fancy examination room lights and gadgets folded up near the ceiling and the walls to make room. There was a brief gap in their circle where the door would open, and a bit of space between the nearest members and the examination table. Herbert sat placidly, smiling at those around him while his hands rested in the lap of the paper gown he was wearing.
The door opened as the doctor flipped a page on his clipboard. He glanced up, then looked around in surprise.
“What are you all doing here?” he asked. “You should be in the waiting room! And why is the patient in a gown? This is supposed to be a routine checkup!”
The committee looked at the ground abashedly and the spokesman, as he was beginning to think of himself, raised his hand slightly.
The doctor glared at him for several seconds before realizing the man wasn’t going to speak without being called on. “Yes, well?!” he asked emphatically.
“We thought it was best, sir,” he replied lamely. “And we wanted to find out what’s wrong.”
The doctor frowned at the young man, then back at his clipboard. Looking up at Herbert, he took another step into the room and shut the door behind him. The committee shuffled a bit and closed the gap, giving each a few more inches of room.
“Herbert, is it? Can you tell me what seems to be the problem today?”
“No problems,” Herbert replied cheerfully, nodding at the doctor with a smile.
“Says here,” the doctor said, flipping a page on his clipboard again. “Says here you have lost your memory.”
“Oh no, sir,” said Herbert. “Or, if I have, I don’t seem to be missing it.”