THE KING ATLASBetaA WORLD BETWEEN STORIESSingle-book characters / Named cast
10 named character entries recorded in Ayana. Open a snippet for the book’s wording.
These entries belong to this story; they do not establish matches to characters in other books. Read about this work and its recorded connections.
This is a growing catalog, not a claim that every character has been found.
Ralph was less sure, and I didn’t believe it at all. It didn’t make a sound when it struck, not even a little one. There was nothing in that purse except maybe a Kleenex. “Who are you, kiddo?” my father asked in his raspy fixing-to-die voice. “Ayana,” the child said.
… Don “Doc” Gentry and his wife, Bernadette—my mother and father—retired to a suburban home in Ford City, not too far from Pittsburgh. After his wife died, Doc considered moving to Florida, decided he couldn’t afford it, and stayed in Pennsylvania.
… Don “Doc” Gentry and his wife, Bernadette—my mother and father—retired to a suburban home in Ford City, not too far from Pittsburgh. After his wife died, Doc considered moving to Florida, decided he couldn’t afford it, and stayed in Pennsylvania.
Possible aliases: Chloe
It was Nurse Chloe. (This was what she called herself, as in “Drink a little more of this soup for Nurse Chloe.”) She wasted no time on pleasantries. “I think you should come right away,” she said. “Not just Ralph for the night shift. All of you.”
… My brother Ralph is also dead—a stroke while playing in a golden-ager golf tournament—and Trudy is gaga. My father is long gone; if he were still alive, he’d be a centenarian.
Retif and Zamachowski, who were my dad’s oncologists there. They in turn blamed the radiologists for sloppy imaging.
… lying sleepless in our hard Rammit Inn bed and listening to the air conditioner rattle, that Ruth told me to keep my mouth shut about the blind girl, whom she called not Ayana but “the magic negro child,” speaking in a tone of ugly sarcasm that was very unlike her.
… It was Stan Sloan, Doc’s family practice guy, who first raised the red flag. He had sent Doc to the University of Pittsburgh Cancer Institute and so was able to blame the consequent misdiagnosis on Drs. Retif and Zamachowski, who were my dad’s oncologists there.
… “He was getting better when we left this afternoon,” Trudy said. “I just didn’t believe it.” “Bolsheveky,” Ruth said. It was as close as she allowed herself to cursing. Trudy paid no attention.
Possible aliases: Dr. Zamachowski
Retif and Zamachowski, who were my dad’s oncologists there. They in turn blamed the radiologists for sloppy imaging.