Mobil's medical exam felt rather casual, sometimes careless ("at not much more than your age, your father dropped dead, but don't worry about it"). The examination was a formality, and I was easily passing all the tests. In the last one, routine for Mobil, the nurse opened the door to a glass booth, inviting me to go in and sit down, my back to the door. There were headphones on the table.

"Heifer dentist?" she asked.
   a cow
     for a dentist?
       milk is good
         for the teeth
           but heifer
               ever done this?
"I think so -- it seems to me -- a long time ago. In the first grade at my school. But there was no booth, just headphones. But not since -- anyway, I'm sure I was fine."
"It's not done enough -- a candle really."

candle really
 candal scandals
  in the wind
   it's a scandal

"Well, I know my ears are very sensitive to sound. I hate riding in the subway, and horns and sirens are impossible."

She came to the booth and opened the door. The sign on her breast said "Miss A. Oracle." She was soft spoken and had a gentle smile, though she seemed to be lowering her voice. "OK, Mr. First Grade, we're on day?" she asked."Good. We'll just check it out." The nurse put the headphones over my ears and told me to push a button whenever I heard a sound. The original device had been invented by Alexander Graham Bell in order to plot audiograms measuring residual hearing in the profoundly deaf. Mobil included the test in its physicals at the request of a former chairman, Al Nickerson, who, it was said, had to resign because of his partial deafness. The purpose was not to exclude from Mobil those who failed but to try to identify potential problems that might affect performance -- a nice distinction. In any event, after I listened to five or six tones at different frequencies and pressed the button each time I heard a sound, the nurse said, "Thank you, Mr. Shea," into the headphones.

"I'm sorry?"
"We're are day?"
are day are they were are they where are they "They?"
"Your earring days."
"My earring days?"
"I left them at home," I said, laughing.
"Don't you have any?" She was smiling, trying to figure me out.
"Do I have any hearing aids!? Ha! Are you serious?"
"You pressed the mudden vie tie."

   vie tie
    five times
      pressed the button
       five times

"But there were twenty tones."
"Moly eyes when you started missing them." moly eyes! O, Mole, the beauty of it! moly mo -- mostly --
"Mostly --"
"Mostly highs. Higher frequency sounds. Mid-frequency, too. Ow on avenue add is autumn."

ow on
 ow ow
  how on
   how long
    have you

      have you had this problem

"What problem?"
"You are -- Mr. Shea, you do not hear well."
"I hear you."
"Well, you see me, and you're not profoundly deaf."
"Of course not. I'm not 'deaf ' at all! I'm fine."
"But you are -- you are partially deaf -- seriously. What happened to you?"
"Come on."

Miss Oracle came close to me and was now speaking more loudly and slowly.

"I am --"
"Considerably deaf."
"That can't be."
"You should see someone."
"Well, some day. When I'm eighty-five maybe!"
"Mr. Shea."
"Yes, Miss Oracle."
"How old are you?"
"Um, you can see on the -- I'm thirty-three."

"That's right. But your ears, your ears, are, are -- perhaps eighty-five! This test is of course between us. But I urge you not to ignore it. If you do, it will be do your fast reread."
"My fast -- my --"

"To your VAST REGRET. Please. For yourself, for me because I'm not writing it down. I'll just check that you took the test. Please see someone."

"You're really serious."

I could see that she wanted me to see that she was trying to get through, her lovely eyes staring out over her white dress, fixed on mine, like the double beams hard a-lee of some unearthly New England lighthouse. Miss Oracle pursed her lips for a moment.

"Do you hear any noises in your head, Mr. Shea?"
"Noises, no. Like what? Noises like what?"
"Like a whistling or a buzzing or ringing."
"Are you sure?"
"Please -- there are things you can do --" Miss Oracle's toes were tap tap tapping on the ground, she was not smiling, and her eyes were full of questions.

I must have realized, at least subconsciously, that she was telling the truth, but I was of no mind to admit it. After all, were her heifer dentists and moly eyesbut natural progressive steps to understanding, or did they have something to do with her message "you are considerably deaf "? But deafness is not hearing, and I hear! Just because I hesitated when she spoke? Yet the buzzer rang -- twenty times!

It is no easy task, for anyone, to upset what he considers to be the longstanding, natural patterns of his life. For a young hearing mother, the acceptance of the fact that her infant is deaf takes some time, for it's fraught with feelings of guilt, failure, and the anticipation of a long isolated life for her newborn child. For those growing deaf because they are getting older, it is the acceptance of the advance of age that is troublesome, and the realization that they can no longer follow their peers, or fellow professionals, or those they love, without hearing aids, which, when they try them, don't seem to work anyway. For me, it would have been accepting the need to reappraise the past, an often hellish past too, but one in which I played a role that I thought was physically, if not intellectually, complete. So I tried to ignore Miss Oracle, in spite of the wisdom of her words. I was hiding, though -- and you can't hide for long.

Aldo's response was to have someone provide me with the draft minutes of the department meetings: "You know, to vet the thing, a legal review or some shit like that. The business is new to him -- words like 'tariff.'" But he was beginning to wonder whether he had made a mistake. When I first looked at the minutes, with the admonitions of Miss Oracle at least in the back of my mind, I realized that they were more interesting than the nonsense I had been listening to. Reading the crisp words of a talented engineer turned oilman discussing technical, business, or political questions, I discovered that muddled ideas with an occasional "pipeline," "crude oil," or "refinery," were in fact thoughtful observations. I gave them back untouched.For the first few months at Mobil I managed fairly well, meeting people in the Middle East Department separately, slowly deciphering their messages, and -- ploddingly -- learning the oil business. But as I became drawn into meetings with two or three or more people, I became quickly lost as usual and reverted to trips to the bathroom for pills and some giganta Mylanta. People were starting to tell Sorota I wasn't getting it. 

At one staff meeting the group had spent twenty minutes on pipeline tariffs when I asked how much the Saudis would charge for our use of the line. Sorota wasn't present, but his second told him about it, though at the time he shaded my question and answered his own version of it.