DISCLAIMER: Anything that you don't recognize isn't mine, Kapische? Bene.
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SAVING GRACE—CHAPTER ONE
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"Hey, Carter, you're wanted in Exam 3," Nurse Abby Lockhart called down the hall. Dr. John Carter looked up to see Abby's head poking out of the doorway to the exam room and slung his stethescope over his shoulders. He reached the room in seconds.
"What've we got?" He asked, taking the clipboard from Abby and skimming it briefly.
"Chris Arco, 12, suffering from chronic nosebleeds for around two weeks now." Carter approached the bed where a red-haired boy lay, his distraught mother holding his hand. Carter whipped out his penlight and looked into the boy's eyes.
"So, what's up Chris?" he asked the child, moving on to examine his nostrils.
"Nothing really," was the brief response. Carter jotted some notes on the clipboard, and sat in a chair across from the patient and his mother, Abby looming in the corner.
"So, Chris, about when are these nosebleeds occurring? How often, would you say?"
"It's been happening nearly every day when he gets out of school. He's joined the drama club, you see. It's a very big thing for Chris," his mother answered, stroking her son's hair while he swatted at her with his hand to back off.
"I see," Carter said, "What part do you have in the play now, Chris?"
"I'm on the crew. We are painting the scenery right now." Carter made a final note on his clipboard andput thepen back into his pocket.
"Do you use spray paint?"
"Yeah."
"Well, that should solve our mystery. Abby, could we run a tox screen on Mr. Arco's blood, and get a chest CT?"
"Sure thing, Carter," Abby said as she prepared a needle to draw the kid's blood. His mother made a sudden move to grip her son's arm.
"What's wrong with him, doctor?"
"Well, it shouldn't be too serious, but we will have to admit him for observation. It seems that Chris has been exposed to too many harmful paint fumes, possibly the area that they are painting in is not well ventilated." With that Carter turned and left, just before he could hear the child wince as Abby drew his blood.
Carter glanced back. It suddenly hit him. This was Curtain Area 3. This was where he and his med student, Lucy, had been stabbed, right inside that room. Though the incident had occurred years ago, it was impossible for him to erase the images, the emotions, from his mind.
It had happened so quickly, but despite that, Carter remembered every detail perfectly: The sight as he walked into the exam room calling for Lucy, only to find her sprawled on the floor, her own blood pooling around her, more scarlet than the rose that he had sent her for Valentine's Day.
She had never received the rose.
Carter had taken it from her home, with the intent to place it inside the white casket that held her body at the funeral a week later. By then, the once-perfect rose had dried and wilted.
He couldn't bring himself to give Lucy a dead rose.
As the memories stirred inside him, he felt the tears well behind his eyes. He turned and walked briskly to the washroom, ignoring the calls to him from his colleagues. Safely inside of the bathroom, he turned the faucet and let the water run cold, rubbing it onto his face with a paper towel. At that moment, the door swung open, and Pratt walked in.
"Hey, what's up, Carter? You look like hell." Carter dried his face and turned to Pratt, forcing a small laugh.
"News flash, Pratt: Everyone who works here looks like hell." Pratt snorted.
"Guess you have a point there, man. Catch you later." Pratt turned and left. Carter strongly suspected that he had been sent by Abby or someone to check on him. Carter turned his face to the mirror in front of him. He stared at his reflection for a moment.
"I'm fine," he told his reflection, willing himself to believe the words. Sighing, he gave up that approach and turned away. He looked at the small clock on the wall. It was 11:36 pm, nearly midnight, on September 20th. It would soon be September 21.
Lucy's birthday.
Lucy would have turned 31 in the next 24 minutes. By this time, Carter knew that he would have been married, would have made her his wife, his one and only. Actually, he knew that she was his one and only without being his wife. He had known since that first embrace on the roof.
"You fought the good fight today, Lucy. And tomorrow, you'll fight another one." He had pulled her close to him then, and she relaxed, laying her head on his shoulder. He had comforted her as they sat there, on the roof of County. Carter knew that Lucy had felt it too. Something happened with them; they really connected.
11:40. He knew he should get back to work. Carter picked up his stethescope off of the marble sink counter and returned it to its position around his shoulders. He opened the door of the restroom and the bright florescence of the lights hit him, reflecting off of the white walls of the clean hospital emergency room. Striding over to the reception desks, he glanced at the board.
"Hey, Jerry, there really only two patients here?" The desk clerk looked up from his coffee.
"Yep. Hard to believe, huh? Warm, fall night, you'd think that the place would be packed with gang bangers or something." Carter looked around, and noticed that the ER seemed oddly empty. He saw Abby's outline through in curtain area one, where she still treated the nosebleed kid and other nurses scurried about here and there, but the place was devoid of any doctors.
"Jerry," Carter said, "I'm gonna go to the lounge. Shout if anything interesting happens, okay?"
"Sure thing," Jerry called after him as he turned and headed into the lounge. He was surprised to find only Elizabeth and Neela there, sitting at a table, chatting over a cup of coffee. They were amid a fit of giggles when Carter walked through the door. His face contorted into an expression of confusion. The two women looked at him, grinning.
"Hey, John," Elizabeth greeted him.
"Did I miss something here?" The women burst into giggles again. Carter didn't even try to understand this one. He involved himself in pouring a cup of coffee instead, and sitting on a nearby couch.
"Hey, you can sit with us, you know," Elizabeth told him matter-of-factly. Neela nodded in agreement. Elizabeth brushed a stray lock of her curly red hair out of her face, and Carter noted the look of sincerity in her eyes. Shrugging, he took his coffee over and sat at the round table.
"Okay, then, so what's new with you?" He asked them. Elizabeth glanced at him nonchalantly.
"Oh, you know, the usual British chatter concerning certain ridiculous aspects of American life. That sort of thing." Carter smiled, nearly snorting into his coffee mug. Neela just sat, looking shy. Carter didn't generally speak with her much, so they didn't know each other well.
"So, Neela," Carter began, Neela snapping to attention at the mention of her name. "How do you like the ER rotation?" Neela tapped her cheek with her forefinger before answering.
"Well, I suppose it's not too bad. A bit hectic, and the trauma's are more violent than I have ever imagined."
"Tell me about it," Elizabeth broke in. "Sorry for interrupting," she added briefly to Neela. "That's one of the reasons that I came to Chicago from England, actually. I never get a chance to get that sort of surgical experience in the violent traumas back home."
"I hate that about this country," Carter put in, setting his coffee on the wooden table. "It is hard to imagine how one human being could, say, stab another person so violently as to kill them. Especially if the victim was doing no harm." Instantly, Elizabeth's head snapped up. Carter just as quickly, after realizing what he had said, looked down into the black depths of his coffee. He felt a hand on his shoulder and knew that Elizabeth understood, and was trying to comfort him. Looking up, he saw that Neela looked slightly confused, being left out of the loop. He read the sympathy in Elizabeth's clear blue eyes. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth, I shouldn't have brought up. I really didn't mean to."
Neela seemed to sense the awkwardness of the situation, and rose from the table. She silently cleaned her coffee cup out, and donned her lab coat.
"I'm going to see if Abby needs help with...anything," she said quietly as she slipped through the door back to the halls of the ER. The door having swung shut, Carter looked at Elizabeth. He could see pain in her eyes.
"I am so sorry, Elizabeth. I really am. I didn't mean to, it's just...you'd think that after nearly five years...oh, I don't know. And today, I'm remembering everything for some reason...and you're really the only other one left here who understands," Carter tried to blink back the tears that were welling in his eyes against his wishes. Elizabeth moved closer and rubbed Carter's back.
"Yes," she said, "I know. And I wish that I could forget it just as quickly as I can remember. It was a horrific ordeal. And having to operate on someone that you know so well like that..." Her voice broke suddenly. Carter sighed. He glanced at his watch. 11:54, it read. Six more minutes. He swallowed hard.
"I wish I could forget as much as you. But I never want to forget about Lucy."
"Yes, John, I know that you loved her deeply. It's important that you remember that love, but you need to forget the horrors." She removed her hand from his back and rose to rinse her coffee mug in the sink. Her back turned, Carter sat up, and rested his chin on his hands.
"Hey, Elizabeth?" He quietly tried to get her attention. She turned and looked at him with care.
"Yes, John?" It was now 11:57. Three more minutes.
"Tomorrow is Lucy's birthday." Elizabeth gazed at him for a moment, as if she wasn't expecting it, which, of course, she wasn't. She moved forward to Carter and wrapped him in a hug. They lingered like that for a moment. When Elizabeth pulled away, he could see a single tear on her cheek. She briskly wiped it away. Giving him a last look, she left the lounge. He was now alone.
He cleaned his coffee cup, and sat down again on the hard wooden chair, head in his hands. He glanced at his watch. It was 11:59. 45 seconds left. How would his life have been different, he wondered, without Paul Sobriki's existence? Where he would have been able to love Lucy freely, without worrying about her time running out?
Carter thought of Lucy, her beautiful grey-blue eyes, her blond hair, fair skin, and wonderful personality. As the second-hand ticked onto the twelve, signifying midnight, Carter held a moment of silence.
"Happy birthday, Lucy Knight."
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So what'd you think so far? The plot hasn't gotten going yet, but it's a start. I actually already have the next chapter written, so I will post that shortly.
Until next time, toodles!
And DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!! (
****************************************
SAVING GRACE—CHAPTER ONE
****************************************
"Hey, Carter, you're wanted in Exam 3," Nurse Abby Lockhart called down the hall. Dr. John Carter looked up to see Abby's head poking out of the doorway to the exam room and slung his stethescope over his shoulders. He reached the room in seconds.
"What've we got?" He asked, taking the clipboard from Abby and skimming it briefly.
"Chris Arco, 12, suffering from chronic nosebleeds for around two weeks now." Carter approached the bed where a red-haired boy lay, his distraught mother holding his hand. Carter whipped out his penlight and looked into the boy's eyes.
"So, what's up Chris?" he asked the child, moving on to examine his nostrils.
"Nothing really," was the brief response. Carter jotted some notes on the clipboard, and sat in a chair across from the patient and his mother, Abby looming in the corner.
"So, Chris, about when are these nosebleeds occurring? How often, would you say?"
"It's been happening nearly every day when he gets out of school. He's joined the drama club, you see. It's a very big thing for Chris," his mother answered, stroking her son's hair while he swatted at her with his hand to back off.
"I see," Carter said, "What part do you have in the play now, Chris?"
"I'm on the crew. We are painting the scenery right now." Carter made a final note on his clipboard andput thepen back into his pocket.
"Do you use spray paint?"
"Yeah."
"Well, that should solve our mystery. Abby, could we run a tox screen on Mr. Arco's blood, and get a chest CT?"
"Sure thing, Carter," Abby said as she prepared a needle to draw the kid's blood. His mother made a sudden move to grip her son's arm.
"What's wrong with him, doctor?"
"Well, it shouldn't be too serious, but we will have to admit him for observation. It seems that Chris has been exposed to too many harmful paint fumes, possibly the area that they are painting in is not well ventilated." With that Carter turned and left, just before he could hear the child wince as Abby drew his blood.
Carter glanced back. It suddenly hit him. This was Curtain Area 3. This was where he and his med student, Lucy, had been stabbed, right inside that room. Though the incident had occurred years ago, it was impossible for him to erase the images, the emotions, from his mind.
It had happened so quickly, but despite that, Carter remembered every detail perfectly: The sight as he walked into the exam room calling for Lucy, only to find her sprawled on the floor, her own blood pooling around her, more scarlet than the rose that he had sent her for Valentine's Day.
She had never received the rose.
Carter had taken it from her home, with the intent to place it inside the white casket that held her body at the funeral a week later. By then, the once-perfect rose had dried and wilted.
He couldn't bring himself to give Lucy a dead rose.
As the memories stirred inside him, he felt the tears well behind his eyes. He turned and walked briskly to the washroom, ignoring the calls to him from his colleagues. Safely inside of the bathroom, he turned the faucet and let the water run cold, rubbing it onto his face with a paper towel. At that moment, the door swung open, and Pratt walked in.
"Hey, what's up, Carter? You look like hell." Carter dried his face and turned to Pratt, forcing a small laugh.
"News flash, Pratt: Everyone who works here looks like hell." Pratt snorted.
"Guess you have a point there, man. Catch you later." Pratt turned and left. Carter strongly suspected that he had been sent by Abby or someone to check on him. Carter turned his face to the mirror in front of him. He stared at his reflection for a moment.
"I'm fine," he told his reflection, willing himself to believe the words. Sighing, he gave up that approach and turned away. He looked at the small clock on the wall. It was 11:36 pm, nearly midnight, on September 20th. It would soon be September 21.
Lucy's birthday.
Lucy would have turned 31 in the next 24 minutes. By this time, Carter knew that he would have been married, would have made her his wife, his one and only. Actually, he knew that she was his one and only without being his wife. He had known since that first embrace on the roof.
"You fought the good fight today, Lucy. And tomorrow, you'll fight another one." He had pulled her close to him then, and she relaxed, laying her head on his shoulder. He had comforted her as they sat there, on the roof of County. Carter knew that Lucy had felt it too. Something happened with them; they really connected.
11:40. He knew he should get back to work. Carter picked up his stethescope off of the marble sink counter and returned it to its position around his shoulders. He opened the door of the restroom and the bright florescence of the lights hit him, reflecting off of the white walls of the clean hospital emergency room. Striding over to the reception desks, he glanced at the board.
"Hey, Jerry, there really only two patients here?" The desk clerk looked up from his coffee.
"Yep. Hard to believe, huh? Warm, fall night, you'd think that the place would be packed with gang bangers or something." Carter looked around, and noticed that the ER seemed oddly empty. He saw Abby's outline through in curtain area one, where she still treated the nosebleed kid and other nurses scurried about here and there, but the place was devoid of any doctors.
"Jerry," Carter said, "I'm gonna go to the lounge. Shout if anything interesting happens, okay?"
"Sure thing," Jerry called after him as he turned and headed into the lounge. He was surprised to find only Elizabeth and Neela there, sitting at a table, chatting over a cup of coffee. They were amid a fit of giggles when Carter walked through the door. His face contorted into an expression of confusion. The two women looked at him, grinning.
"Hey, John," Elizabeth greeted him.
"Did I miss something here?" The women burst into giggles again. Carter didn't even try to understand this one. He involved himself in pouring a cup of coffee instead, and sitting on a nearby couch.
"Hey, you can sit with us, you know," Elizabeth told him matter-of-factly. Neela nodded in agreement. Elizabeth brushed a stray lock of her curly red hair out of her face, and Carter noted the look of sincerity in her eyes. Shrugging, he took his coffee over and sat at the round table.
"Okay, then, so what's new with you?" He asked them. Elizabeth glanced at him nonchalantly.
"Oh, you know, the usual British chatter concerning certain ridiculous aspects of American life. That sort of thing." Carter smiled, nearly snorting into his coffee mug. Neela just sat, looking shy. Carter didn't generally speak with her much, so they didn't know each other well.
"So, Neela," Carter began, Neela snapping to attention at the mention of her name. "How do you like the ER rotation?" Neela tapped her cheek with her forefinger before answering.
"Well, I suppose it's not too bad. A bit hectic, and the trauma's are more violent than I have ever imagined."
"Tell me about it," Elizabeth broke in. "Sorry for interrupting," she added briefly to Neela. "That's one of the reasons that I came to Chicago from England, actually. I never get a chance to get that sort of surgical experience in the violent traumas back home."
"I hate that about this country," Carter put in, setting his coffee on the wooden table. "It is hard to imagine how one human being could, say, stab another person so violently as to kill them. Especially if the victim was doing no harm." Instantly, Elizabeth's head snapped up. Carter just as quickly, after realizing what he had said, looked down into the black depths of his coffee. He felt a hand on his shoulder and knew that Elizabeth understood, and was trying to comfort him. Looking up, he saw that Neela looked slightly confused, being left out of the loop. He read the sympathy in Elizabeth's clear blue eyes. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth, I shouldn't have brought up. I really didn't mean to."
Neela seemed to sense the awkwardness of the situation, and rose from the table. She silently cleaned her coffee cup out, and donned her lab coat.
"I'm going to see if Abby needs help with...anything," she said quietly as she slipped through the door back to the halls of the ER. The door having swung shut, Carter looked at Elizabeth. He could see pain in her eyes.
"I am so sorry, Elizabeth. I really am. I didn't mean to, it's just...you'd think that after nearly five years...oh, I don't know. And today, I'm remembering everything for some reason...and you're really the only other one left here who understands," Carter tried to blink back the tears that were welling in his eyes against his wishes. Elizabeth moved closer and rubbed Carter's back.
"Yes," she said, "I know. And I wish that I could forget it just as quickly as I can remember. It was a horrific ordeal. And having to operate on someone that you know so well like that..." Her voice broke suddenly. Carter sighed. He glanced at his watch. 11:54, it read. Six more minutes. He swallowed hard.
"I wish I could forget as much as you. But I never want to forget about Lucy."
"Yes, John, I know that you loved her deeply. It's important that you remember that love, but you need to forget the horrors." She removed her hand from his back and rose to rinse her coffee mug in the sink. Her back turned, Carter sat up, and rested his chin on his hands.
"Hey, Elizabeth?" He quietly tried to get her attention. She turned and looked at him with care.
"Yes, John?" It was now 11:57. Three more minutes.
"Tomorrow is Lucy's birthday." Elizabeth gazed at him for a moment, as if she wasn't expecting it, which, of course, she wasn't. She moved forward to Carter and wrapped him in a hug. They lingered like that for a moment. When Elizabeth pulled away, he could see a single tear on her cheek. She briskly wiped it away. Giving him a last look, she left the lounge. He was now alone.
He cleaned his coffee cup, and sat down again on the hard wooden chair, head in his hands. He glanced at his watch. It was 11:59. 45 seconds left. How would his life have been different, he wondered, without Paul Sobriki's existence? Where he would have been able to love Lucy freely, without worrying about her time running out?
Carter thought of Lucy, her beautiful grey-blue eyes, her blond hair, fair skin, and wonderful personality. As the second-hand ticked onto the twelve, signifying midnight, Carter held a moment of silence.
"Happy birthday, Lucy Knight."
************************************
So what'd you think so far? The plot hasn't gotten going yet, but it's a start. I actually already have the next chapter written, so I will post that shortly.
Until next time, toodles!
And DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!! (