"Visiting Hours, # 4 : Jerry"
Author's note: OK, remember how I said I wasn't going to write any more of these stories for a long time, since school was starting? I lied. Here's one more. Hope you're not getting bored with the series!
After pushing the large package out of his way on the counter for the third time, Jerry finally took notice of it in a conscious way. He read the address label - "Dr. Rocket Romano" at County General.
"Hey, how long has this been here?" he asked Chuny as she passed by.
"How should I know?" she replied, without venom, but also without much interest in helping Jerry with his inquiry.
"It was here last night," supplied Haleh, walking by to deposit a chart, "Somebody put it under the counter, but we kept knocking into it so I put it up top."
"Frank signed for it yesterday," Yosh added, "He said you would take care of it."
"Thanks Frank," Jerry muttered under his breath, his face coloring with irritation. Frank was always doing obnoxious little things like this just to annoy him. Frank should have given the delivery guy Romano's room number upstairs, or at least referred him to the mailroom. Instead, he dumped it on Jerry to deal with. Cards had arrived in the ER for Romano before; those were easy to pass on - Jerry just stuck them in with other inter-hospital mail. But this package was too big for the slot. That meant that Jerry had three options: (1) bring it to the mailroom and try, perhaps unsuccessfully, to hand it off, (2) ignore it and keep pushing it out of the way on the counter, hoping that Frank would eventually have to deal with it, or (3) bring it up to Romano's room himself.
Jerry reluctantly decided on option 3. It seemed like the least hassle, and might win him points with the boss. Plus, the less time he spent solving the problem Frank created, the more time he would have to plot suitable revenge.
A few hours later, Jerry went on break, gathering up the box and a few memos that he thought Romano might be interested in. He headed to the elevator, unnoticed amid the din.
The ER had been in a state of chaos since Romano left. It wasn't Romano's absence per se that caused the chaos, Jerry knew. Kerry had been out of sorts for a while last fall, uncharacteristically letting things slide. Then she took on the liaison job, and then abruptly left the ER when she became Chief of Staff. So, when Romano arrived, they were already backed up on administrative stuff and ridiculously short staffed. And Romano had minimal experience running an ER. Anybody in his right mind would have been intimidated to the point of paralysis coming into that situation.
Of course, Romano was not somebody in his right mind. So he dove in, took charge, shook things up - making changes regardless of whether he knew what the hell he was doing. Then, a few weeks later, he went on medical leave, leaving a debris-strewn vacuum in his wake. Now, nobody was really in charge. Kerry spent as much time as she could "trying to fix the mess Robert left," but she was run ragged between that and her other jobs. So, Dr. Lewis picked up a lot of the slack, and the mundane tasks that she didn't get done seemed to trickle down to Jerry. He wasn't complaining. After all, in terms of total work, there was probably less than when Romano was here.
"At least I don't have to spend hours researching how to fire people anymore," Jerry thought with a grin. Actually, doing that had given him some guilty pleasure. He was annoyed that Romano had dumped such a big task (quite outside his job description!) on him, and didn't like the implication that his own job was insecure. Yet there was something fun, in an evil way, about finding out how to fire people who were way above him on the hospital food chain. Not that he really wanted to see them get the ax, of course . . .
Jerry also realized that being given the task had made him feel sort of important. "I have a freakin' college degree," he thought, "I can do more than just answer phones." Of course Kerry, and other supervisors, had often given him complex work to do. But it was rarely stuff that required much ingenuity, and Kerry tended to micromanage. Romano, on the other hand, just handed him a tough question and expected Jerry to figure out for himself how to answer it. That was surprisingly motivating. "If the little creep would stop hurling insults for five minutes, he might not be a bad manager," Jerry mused. "Yeah, that'll happen!"
As Jerry entertained these thoughts, he got off the elevator and headed toward Dr. Romano's room. Before he reached it, however, he saw the room's occupant heading in his direction. Romano was walking slowly down the hall, holding on to the railing on his right side for support.
Jerry got to within a dozen feet of Dr. Romano without the other man being aware of him. The first thing that struck Jerry was the strangeness of seeing somebody suddenly without an arm. Romano was wearing a hooded sweatshirt, with the left sleeve tucked into the pocket. That made the lack of an arm less noticeable, but, in a way, it made it more startling when you did notice.
Second, Romano looked small. Of course, that was silly. He wasn't any smaller than before (- well, not by much . . . how much does an arm weigh? . . . yuck). Anyway, from Jerry's perspective, just about everybody was tiny. But Romano had always seemed larger than life. He came at you, filling up whatever room he was in with that sharp bellow and vicious wit, and it didn't much matter that you could squash him -- you were on the defensive. In contrast, right now he wasn't bullying anybody; he was just concentrating intently on locomotion. He seemed diminished, somehow.
This impression changed a bit when Romano glanced up at Jerry. He looked tired, but still had that penetrating glare. His expression said, "What the hell do you want?"
Jerry responded to the unspoken question, "Hi Dr. Romano. I, uh, have a package for you. They left it downstairs . . ."
"Fine. Give it here. I'll just balance it on my head," Romano interrupted.
Jerry was confused as to what to do. He paused for a moment, which was a moment too long as far as Romano was concerned. Romano sighed, "Come on," cocking his head toward the door of his room nearby. He sped up his gait a bit. Jerry followed a few steps behind.
They entered the room. Romano immediately dropped into the chair. Jerry placed the package on the table next to him.
"Uh, Jerry . . ."
"Yes, Dr. Romano?"
"The box is ticking."
"What . . . ?" Jerry began, but then, listening carefully, he noticed it too. It wasn't loud, but the package was definitely ticking.
"Well it's nice to know that all the money Carter coerced the hospital into spending for heightened security has really paid off," Romano sneered. "We've gotta empty our pockets every morning to go through the metal detectors, but a big ticking box? No problem!"
Romano seemed annoyed, not frightened, but Jerry was starting to feel uneasy. Guy like Romano was bound to have enemies, after all. "Uh, speaking of security, Dr. Romano, maybe we should call them? Like right now?" he said, glancing warily at the box.
"Nah. I recognize the return address. It's an old buddy of mine. We were roommates for a while during med school," Romano explained, "Here - help me open it."
Jerry was unconvinced. He couldn't imagine living with Romano, but could easily see that it might lead to acts of homicide.
"Look, it's not likely that the terrorists know my friend's address," Romano argued, seeing Jerry's hesitancy, "And, yeah, he's just the kind of guy who would think it's funny to send a ticking box to a busy metropolitan hospital."
As he spoke, Romano was trying to slit the tape on the package with a letter opener. He was making some progress, but, since he didn't have a second hand to stabilize it, the box kept sliding around on the table. Jerry, torn between fleeing and helping, reluctantly placed his hand on top of the box to steady it.
Romano succeeded in opening the box. He reached in and removed the contents: a large stuffed crocodile, more than two feet long. It was plump and jowly, rather than menacing. The ticking - much louder now that it wasn't muffled by the box -- was coming from inside the crocodile, around its midsection. Romano turned the animal over. A seam on its stomach had been cut and replaced with a strip of Velcro. Romano peeled the Velcro open, reached inside, and pulled out a small travel clock. He put the ticking clock back inside the crocodile, closed it up, and turned it back over so it was right side up again. He stared intently at its face for a moment, confused.
Then, suddenly, Romano broke into a grin and started laughing. He cracked up for almost a minute, while Jerry stared at the toy blankly, trying to figure out what was so funny about it. Romano was having trouble stopping laughing, which made Jerry smile and wonder what kind of medication he was on.
"You don't get it?" Romano asked, recovering his composure.
Jerry shook his head.
"Peter Pan. Captain Hook. Crocodile ate his hand and an alarm clock?" Romano fished, seeing if Jerry had a clue.
Jerry smiled as the joke dawned on him, then he wondered aloud, "Uh, this guy is a FRIEND of yours?" Amputation didn't seem like a nice thing to joke about. Or a wise thing, knowing Romano. Jerry was pretty sure that if anybody in the ER had given Romano such a "gift" they would be frequenting the unemployment lines shortly thereafter.
"Yeah, well, we're not like 'Oprah' friends, but we trade gags every now and then. Hmmm . . . this one's gonna be hard to top." As Romano contemplated payback, there was a knock at the door, to which he responded with a curt, "Yes?"
Elizabeth Corday entered, hovering near the doorway. She had several charts clasped precariously in one arm, and was towing Ella with the other arm. "Oh, Hi, Jerry," she flashed him a quick smile, "Robert, I just got Ella from daycare and we're going to grab some dinner from the cafeteria. If I bring you a sandwich, will you eat it?" Her tone was teasing, familiar, a strange mix of warmth and mild irritation.
"Life is full of uncertainty, Lizzie . . .," he began, but was distracted from further snarking by Ella. She was trying to pull away from her mother and was reaching her free hand out toward Robert. Ella had met Robert a few times and seemed to like him, but it was unusual for her to be so intent on going to him. Elizabeth shrugged. She let go of the child to see what she would do.
Ella made a bee-line for Robert, reaching up her hands. He pulled her up into his lap without much difficulty, saying, "Hi Sweetie."
Ella smiled at Robert momentarily, then focused on her true goal: the stuffed crocodile. She pulled it off of the table, wrapping both her arms around its middle, then slid off Robert's lap and toddled toward her mother with it, singing, "Tick-tock tick-tock tick-tock!"
As Ella approached, Elizabeth noticed that the toy was indeed ticking. "You're not giving my daughter an explosive device to play with, are you?" she asked, feigning annoyance.
"I didn't exactly GIVE her anything," he replied, amused. "Anyway, it's a clock. You know - Peter Pan? Oh, never mind, I'll explain later."
"Ella, luv, how about you leave Tick-Tock with Robert while we get dinner?" Elizabeth began. Before she even finished the question, her daughter was shaking her head stubbornly. "Ah, who am I kidding . . ."
Elizabeth knew that Ella was getting tired and cranky, so forcibly retrieving the toy would probably prompt a tantrum. She briefly considered asking Robert and Jerry to watch Ella for a little while, so Ella could stay with her new "friend". But, she didn't want to make Jerry feel like he had to stay longer than he'd planned. And, while Robert was getting stronger, he might not be up to dealing with the "terrible twos" just yet. Also, Ella was in a phase where she wanted her mummy in sight at all times.
Of course, she could just bring the toy along with her to the cafeteria, but that would mean toting an armload of charts, Ella, AND the large crocodile, at least as far as her office where she needed to deposit the charts.
"Robert, do you mind if we bring it along with us?" she checked.
Robert shook his head, "Sure, go ahead. She seems kind of attached."
"Jerry, could I impose on you to carry these charts to my office with me? I'll have my hands full with my child and the beastie."
"Sure, no problem," Jerry replied, "Or, you know, I could take Ella. She maybe doesn't remember me, but I used to play with her pretty often back when Dr. Greene, uh . . . when . . ."
"Back when Mark was alive," Elizabeth finished for him. Then, pushing past her emotional response, she continued, "OK, lets see what Ella thinks about that."
"Hey Miss Ella," Jerry addressed the little girl, "You wanna go up up UP?" Aside, to Elizabeth, he said, "She used to love it when I did this."
It wasn't clear whether Ella knew what he was talking about, but she smiled and nodded. Jerry stood behind her, grasped her firmly under her arms, then quickly swooped her up in the air, saying "Up up UP!" He swung her so high that her feet nearly touched the ceiling, then slid her neatly onto his shoulder. Ella squealed with glee.
"Oh, my," said Elizabeth. She smiled wistfully, remembering Mark describing this particular trick.
Robert looked wistful for a different reason. His momentarily stricken expression went unnoticed by his colleagues. Recovering quickly, he said to Ella with mock-seriousness, "Don't let Tick-Tock eat our dinner."
Ella giggled from her perch high up on Jerry's shoulder, still hugging the crocodile. "See you soon," Elizabeth said. Jerry added, "Goodbye, Dr. Romano," and Ella chirped "Bye-Bye!"
Robert waved as the trio left the room. Then he felt around inside the box and pulled out a letter. It was a couple of pages long, hand-written on notebook paper, folded into a square. Robert shook his head, smiling at the nearly indecipherable scrawl, and quickly became absorbed in reading it.
THE END
*** Thanks to PandaX for the stuffed crocodile idea. ***
Author's note: OK, remember how I said I wasn't going to write any more of these stories for a long time, since school was starting? I lied. Here's one more. Hope you're not getting bored with the series!
After pushing the large package out of his way on the counter for the third time, Jerry finally took notice of it in a conscious way. He read the address label - "Dr. Rocket Romano" at County General.
"Hey, how long has this been here?" he asked Chuny as she passed by.
"How should I know?" she replied, without venom, but also without much interest in helping Jerry with his inquiry.
"It was here last night," supplied Haleh, walking by to deposit a chart, "Somebody put it under the counter, but we kept knocking into it so I put it up top."
"Frank signed for it yesterday," Yosh added, "He said you would take care of it."
"Thanks Frank," Jerry muttered under his breath, his face coloring with irritation. Frank was always doing obnoxious little things like this just to annoy him. Frank should have given the delivery guy Romano's room number upstairs, or at least referred him to the mailroom. Instead, he dumped it on Jerry to deal with. Cards had arrived in the ER for Romano before; those were easy to pass on - Jerry just stuck them in with other inter-hospital mail. But this package was too big for the slot. That meant that Jerry had three options: (1) bring it to the mailroom and try, perhaps unsuccessfully, to hand it off, (2) ignore it and keep pushing it out of the way on the counter, hoping that Frank would eventually have to deal with it, or (3) bring it up to Romano's room himself.
Jerry reluctantly decided on option 3. It seemed like the least hassle, and might win him points with the boss. Plus, the less time he spent solving the problem Frank created, the more time he would have to plot suitable revenge.
A few hours later, Jerry went on break, gathering up the box and a few memos that he thought Romano might be interested in. He headed to the elevator, unnoticed amid the din.
The ER had been in a state of chaos since Romano left. It wasn't Romano's absence per se that caused the chaos, Jerry knew. Kerry had been out of sorts for a while last fall, uncharacteristically letting things slide. Then she took on the liaison job, and then abruptly left the ER when she became Chief of Staff. So, when Romano arrived, they were already backed up on administrative stuff and ridiculously short staffed. And Romano had minimal experience running an ER. Anybody in his right mind would have been intimidated to the point of paralysis coming into that situation.
Of course, Romano was not somebody in his right mind. So he dove in, took charge, shook things up - making changes regardless of whether he knew what the hell he was doing. Then, a few weeks later, he went on medical leave, leaving a debris-strewn vacuum in his wake. Now, nobody was really in charge. Kerry spent as much time as she could "trying to fix the mess Robert left," but she was run ragged between that and her other jobs. So, Dr. Lewis picked up a lot of the slack, and the mundane tasks that she didn't get done seemed to trickle down to Jerry. He wasn't complaining. After all, in terms of total work, there was probably less than when Romano was here.
"At least I don't have to spend hours researching how to fire people anymore," Jerry thought with a grin. Actually, doing that had given him some guilty pleasure. He was annoyed that Romano had dumped such a big task (quite outside his job description!) on him, and didn't like the implication that his own job was insecure. Yet there was something fun, in an evil way, about finding out how to fire people who were way above him on the hospital food chain. Not that he really wanted to see them get the ax, of course . . .
Jerry also realized that being given the task had made him feel sort of important. "I have a freakin' college degree," he thought, "I can do more than just answer phones." Of course Kerry, and other supervisors, had often given him complex work to do. But it was rarely stuff that required much ingenuity, and Kerry tended to micromanage. Romano, on the other hand, just handed him a tough question and expected Jerry to figure out for himself how to answer it. That was surprisingly motivating. "If the little creep would stop hurling insults for five minutes, he might not be a bad manager," Jerry mused. "Yeah, that'll happen!"
As Jerry entertained these thoughts, he got off the elevator and headed toward Dr. Romano's room. Before he reached it, however, he saw the room's occupant heading in his direction. Romano was walking slowly down the hall, holding on to the railing on his right side for support.
Jerry got to within a dozen feet of Dr. Romano without the other man being aware of him. The first thing that struck Jerry was the strangeness of seeing somebody suddenly without an arm. Romano was wearing a hooded sweatshirt, with the left sleeve tucked into the pocket. That made the lack of an arm less noticeable, but, in a way, it made it more startling when you did notice.
Second, Romano looked small. Of course, that was silly. He wasn't any smaller than before (- well, not by much . . . how much does an arm weigh? . . . yuck). Anyway, from Jerry's perspective, just about everybody was tiny. But Romano had always seemed larger than life. He came at you, filling up whatever room he was in with that sharp bellow and vicious wit, and it didn't much matter that you could squash him -- you were on the defensive. In contrast, right now he wasn't bullying anybody; he was just concentrating intently on locomotion. He seemed diminished, somehow.
This impression changed a bit when Romano glanced up at Jerry. He looked tired, but still had that penetrating glare. His expression said, "What the hell do you want?"
Jerry responded to the unspoken question, "Hi Dr. Romano. I, uh, have a package for you. They left it downstairs . . ."
"Fine. Give it here. I'll just balance it on my head," Romano interrupted.
Jerry was confused as to what to do. He paused for a moment, which was a moment too long as far as Romano was concerned. Romano sighed, "Come on," cocking his head toward the door of his room nearby. He sped up his gait a bit. Jerry followed a few steps behind.
They entered the room. Romano immediately dropped into the chair. Jerry placed the package on the table next to him.
"Uh, Jerry . . ."
"Yes, Dr. Romano?"
"The box is ticking."
"What . . . ?" Jerry began, but then, listening carefully, he noticed it too. It wasn't loud, but the package was definitely ticking.
"Well it's nice to know that all the money Carter coerced the hospital into spending for heightened security has really paid off," Romano sneered. "We've gotta empty our pockets every morning to go through the metal detectors, but a big ticking box? No problem!"
Romano seemed annoyed, not frightened, but Jerry was starting to feel uneasy. Guy like Romano was bound to have enemies, after all. "Uh, speaking of security, Dr. Romano, maybe we should call them? Like right now?" he said, glancing warily at the box.
"Nah. I recognize the return address. It's an old buddy of mine. We were roommates for a while during med school," Romano explained, "Here - help me open it."
Jerry was unconvinced. He couldn't imagine living with Romano, but could easily see that it might lead to acts of homicide.
"Look, it's not likely that the terrorists know my friend's address," Romano argued, seeing Jerry's hesitancy, "And, yeah, he's just the kind of guy who would think it's funny to send a ticking box to a busy metropolitan hospital."
As he spoke, Romano was trying to slit the tape on the package with a letter opener. He was making some progress, but, since he didn't have a second hand to stabilize it, the box kept sliding around on the table. Jerry, torn between fleeing and helping, reluctantly placed his hand on top of the box to steady it.
Romano succeeded in opening the box. He reached in and removed the contents: a large stuffed crocodile, more than two feet long. It was plump and jowly, rather than menacing. The ticking - much louder now that it wasn't muffled by the box -- was coming from inside the crocodile, around its midsection. Romano turned the animal over. A seam on its stomach had been cut and replaced with a strip of Velcro. Romano peeled the Velcro open, reached inside, and pulled out a small travel clock. He put the ticking clock back inside the crocodile, closed it up, and turned it back over so it was right side up again. He stared intently at its face for a moment, confused.
Then, suddenly, Romano broke into a grin and started laughing. He cracked up for almost a minute, while Jerry stared at the toy blankly, trying to figure out what was so funny about it. Romano was having trouble stopping laughing, which made Jerry smile and wonder what kind of medication he was on.
"You don't get it?" Romano asked, recovering his composure.
Jerry shook his head.
"Peter Pan. Captain Hook. Crocodile ate his hand and an alarm clock?" Romano fished, seeing if Jerry had a clue.
Jerry smiled as the joke dawned on him, then he wondered aloud, "Uh, this guy is a FRIEND of yours?" Amputation didn't seem like a nice thing to joke about. Or a wise thing, knowing Romano. Jerry was pretty sure that if anybody in the ER had given Romano such a "gift" they would be frequenting the unemployment lines shortly thereafter.
"Yeah, well, we're not like 'Oprah' friends, but we trade gags every now and then. Hmmm . . . this one's gonna be hard to top." As Romano contemplated payback, there was a knock at the door, to which he responded with a curt, "Yes?"
Elizabeth Corday entered, hovering near the doorway. She had several charts clasped precariously in one arm, and was towing Ella with the other arm. "Oh, Hi, Jerry," she flashed him a quick smile, "Robert, I just got Ella from daycare and we're going to grab some dinner from the cafeteria. If I bring you a sandwich, will you eat it?" Her tone was teasing, familiar, a strange mix of warmth and mild irritation.
"Life is full of uncertainty, Lizzie . . .," he began, but was distracted from further snarking by Ella. She was trying to pull away from her mother and was reaching her free hand out toward Robert. Ella had met Robert a few times and seemed to like him, but it was unusual for her to be so intent on going to him. Elizabeth shrugged. She let go of the child to see what she would do.
Ella made a bee-line for Robert, reaching up her hands. He pulled her up into his lap without much difficulty, saying, "Hi Sweetie."
Ella smiled at Robert momentarily, then focused on her true goal: the stuffed crocodile. She pulled it off of the table, wrapping both her arms around its middle, then slid off Robert's lap and toddled toward her mother with it, singing, "Tick-tock tick-tock tick-tock!"
As Ella approached, Elizabeth noticed that the toy was indeed ticking. "You're not giving my daughter an explosive device to play with, are you?" she asked, feigning annoyance.
"I didn't exactly GIVE her anything," he replied, amused. "Anyway, it's a clock. You know - Peter Pan? Oh, never mind, I'll explain later."
"Ella, luv, how about you leave Tick-Tock with Robert while we get dinner?" Elizabeth began. Before she even finished the question, her daughter was shaking her head stubbornly. "Ah, who am I kidding . . ."
Elizabeth knew that Ella was getting tired and cranky, so forcibly retrieving the toy would probably prompt a tantrum. She briefly considered asking Robert and Jerry to watch Ella for a little while, so Ella could stay with her new "friend". But, she didn't want to make Jerry feel like he had to stay longer than he'd planned. And, while Robert was getting stronger, he might not be up to dealing with the "terrible twos" just yet. Also, Ella was in a phase where she wanted her mummy in sight at all times.
Of course, she could just bring the toy along with her to the cafeteria, but that would mean toting an armload of charts, Ella, AND the large crocodile, at least as far as her office where she needed to deposit the charts.
"Robert, do you mind if we bring it along with us?" she checked.
Robert shook his head, "Sure, go ahead. She seems kind of attached."
"Jerry, could I impose on you to carry these charts to my office with me? I'll have my hands full with my child and the beastie."
"Sure, no problem," Jerry replied, "Or, you know, I could take Ella. She maybe doesn't remember me, but I used to play with her pretty often back when Dr. Greene, uh . . . when . . ."
"Back when Mark was alive," Elizabeth finished for him. Then, pushing past her emotional response, she continued, "OK, lets see what Ella thinks about that."
"Hey Miss Ella," Jerry addressed the little girl, "You wanna go up up UP?" Aside, to Elizabeth, he said, "She used to love it when I did this."
It wasn't clear whether Ella knew what he was talking about, but she smiled and nodded. Jerry stood behind her, grasped her firmly under her arms, then quickly swooped her up in the air, saying "Up up UP!" He swung her so high that her feet nearly touched the ceiling, then slid her neatly onto his shoulder. Ella squealed with glee.
"Oh, my," said Elizabeth. She smiled wistfully, remembering Mark describing this particular trick.
Robert looked wistful for a different reason. His momentarily stricken expression went unnoticed by his colleagues. Recovering quickly, he said to Ella with mock-seriousness, "Don't let Tick-Tock eat our dinner."
Ella giggled from her perch high up on Jerry's shoulder, still hugging the crocodile. "See you soon," Elizabeth said. Jerry added, "Goodbye, Dr. Romano," and Ella chirped "Bye-Bye!"
Robert waved as the trio left the room. Then he felt around inside the box and pulled out a letter. It was a couple of pages long, hand-written on notebook paper, folded into a square. Robert shook his head, smiling at the nearly indecipherable scrawl, and quickly became absorbed in reading it.
THE END
*** Thanks to PandaX for the stuffed crocodile idea. ***