Page 95 of Just Come Over
“That’s true,” Candy said, perfectly unexpectedly. “I was a nurse before I married Nils. Doctors can get frustrated when patients try to educate themselves, but I’ve always thought it was a good idea. How can you make the right choices if you don’t understand your condition?”
“Licensed by internet,” Craig said. “Spare me. Sorry, Candy, but you know I don’t agree.”
“How many times would you say you’ve been concussed yourself?” Nils asked Rhys, ignoring Craig’s comment and the surprising flash from Candy’s round blue eyes. Dr. Nils might be looking at an explosion later on, at home. But then, explosions could be exciting.
“I couldn’t even tell you,” Rhys said. “We weren’t as careful then.”
“Do you feel you’ve experienced behavioral changes?” Nils asked. “Any lessening of impulse control? Or cognitive changes, over time?”
“No,” Rhys said. “Pretty much the same fella I’ve always been. More impulse control these days, actually, I’d say.” His previous lack of impulse control wasn’t news, after all.
“Risk isn’t certainty, of course,” Nils said. “It’s only risk.”
“All the same,” Craig said, “I’d discourage my own kids from a career in professional rugby. Not worth the risk, I’d say, in all sorts of ways, not to mention the opportunity cost. What you give up doing instead when you make that choice, assuming youhavea choice.”Assuming you aren’t a farm kid from the back of beyond,he didn’t say,or, worse, a poor Maori kid with no education, no brains, and no skills beyond running barefoot, catching a ball, and throwing people to the ground.
You didn’t run into that attitude often, not in New Zealand. Just sometimes.
Rhys said, “Could be fortunate, then, that so few peopleareforced to make the choice.”
Nils’s pale-blue eyes lit up with interest, and possibly surprise, and Craig asked, “How’s that?”
Rhys thought,You may be good at messing about with people’s knees, mate, but you don’t win any prizes for emotional intelligence. I know what “opportunity cost” means, too.He asked, “How many doctors in New Zealand? Heaps, is it?”
“Fifteen thousand?” Craig said. “Somewhere around there. Why?”
Rhys passed a hand through his hair, doing his best to look like he was trying to puzzle it out. “What do you need to get started with it? A University diploma?”
“Of course,” Craig said, sounding stiff. “Ten years of training in all. More like fourteen, for a surgeon.”
“That’s work,” Rhys agreed. “Reward, too, though, I reckon. What’s the percentage of Uni diplomas? In adults, that is?”
“About twenty percent,” Nils said, starting to look interested.
“And three million adults in the country, or thereabouts? So you’d have six hundred thousand of them with some kind of diploma?”
“I’m guessing your own diploma’s in maths,” Nils said, with some more amusement. “Or statistics, maybe.”
“I don’t have one. I was one of those fellas who started getting professional concussions at eighteen. I can compute twenty percent, though. Maybe you can help me with the percentage of diploma holders who are doctors. What did we say? Fifteen thousand out of six hundred thousand?”
“Nothing wrong with your memory,” Nils said.
“I’m feeling lost,” Candy said, which at least gave her points for honesty.
Rhys told her, “If ten percent of diploma holders were doctors, that would be sixty thousand. It’s fifteen thousand, though, so it’s about two-point-five percent. Fair enough?”
“That would be about right.” Craig sounded more than stiff now. “I’m sure there’s a point to this.”
“Nah,” Rhys said. “I’m just running a couple of drills, making sure my cognitive function’s still hitting minimum standard.”
“Interesting,” Nils said. “Let’s have the second half of it, then. You can’t judge the match by the first forty minutes. Two-point-five percent of diploma holders are doctors, we’ve got that established. Give me the statistics on the percentage of rugby players who become professionals.”
“Maybe five hundred of them at any one time,” Rhys said. “Out of a hundred fifty thousand registered players. You could say it’s fortunate that only about a third of a percent of the people who give rugby a go will end up beating out the competition and facing that major concussion risk. Of course, there’s still the opportunity cost, that missed Uni and all, but every profession’s got its downside, eh.”
Nils laughed out loud, sat back, and gave him a slow clap. “He’s got you there,” he told Craig. “You gotmethere, for a minute,” he told Rhys. “Well done.”
Which was when the server came back with the wine and the others’ desserts, and also when Rhys felt a disturbance in the force, and looked around to see Zora charging back across the room.
Nils wasn’t the only one who was going to be dealing with an explosion tonight. Also, Rhys may have failed to score in the “suck up to the girl’s dad” department. He’d done all right on the composure, but not so much on the respect, probably.
