Aftermath

Late August.

The heat was slowly dying down.

One could tell from the decreased numbers of heat stroke victims pouring into the ER.

There was a languor about the place, too. Everything and everyone moved about in at one quick animated pace and then nothing. There was only the dying heat and the flies that filled the quiet.

It was still business as usual in the ER, despite the declining days of summer and the loss of two of its personnel.

Kerry strode from the curtain area, swiped away a frazzled lock of auburn hair, frustratedly shoved the clipboard in its correct slot and stamped away.

Frank and Jerry exchanged equally anxious looks from the relative safety of the admittance desk..

"What's her problem?" Jerry asked.

"Somebody probably forgot to put in coffee money at the womens collective," Frank muttered.

Susan walked to the admittance desk and gave Frank a cautionary glare.

She ambled slowly toward the curtain area, never once taking her eyes off of Kerry.

Carter moved over the patient in the trauma room like a haggard conductor over a particularly tiring concerto. Blood was going in and blood was going out. Machines beeped, vials of medicine were injected but the patient did not move.

The gloves came off.

"Time of death..." Carter exhaled, "10:03."

He pulled off his bloody gown.

Haleh wiped blood from the dead man's face.

"That's the third one this week, and it's only Tuesday," she song-sang.

Carter lifted his tired head and scowled at her and left the trauma room.

Kerry chased after him.

"Carter, I need to talk to you."

He shook his head.

"Not now, Kerry."

She stormed in front of him.

"I don't need the attitude, Carter," she cautioned. "Not today."

Carter could go no further.

"What?" he snapped as he crossed his arms.

Kerry buttoned her lip briefly.

"Did that patient die?"

Carter didn't look at her.

"Yeah."

"That's the third one this week," she noted. "It would have been four if the one on Sunday couldn't go on a respirator. It seems like your luck's run out."

He huffed.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Kerry."

"Don't be sarcastic, Carter," she cautioned. "It's time for an M and M."

He rolled his eyes and his skin became clammy and white.

"It's not punitive," she said.

"Like hell it isn't!" he snapped and stormed away, leaving Kerry in a more flustered state than before.

Susan entered the ladies' washroom, looked at the mirror once to see if she was a complete mess or not and then washed her hands. Abby emerged from a stall looking quite terrible. Her hair looked straggly and appeared as though it hadn't been washed. Her face, for the most part, was wan with the exception of small bright spots on her cheeks. She kept her head down and ran the water. She rinsed out her mouth and washed her face.

Susan was aghast.

"My God, Abby! What's wrong? Are you alright?"

Abby didn't answer her friend's question. She leaned into the sink and vomited, after which she rinsed out her mouth once again.

"I guess not," Susan concluded.

Susan grabbed a paper towel, wet it and wiped her friend's face with it.

Abby batted her away.

"I'm fine!" she snapped in a raspy voice. "It's just a stomach flu."

Susan huffed. She knew she couldn't convince Abby into taking any help. It would be refused no matter how well-meaning or how sensible taking the help might be.

"Go home, Abby," Susan said.

Abby shook her head.

"Nah, nah."

Susan put her hands on her hips.

"Don't make me order you."

Abby sighed.

"I have a couple things to finish and then I'll get someone from Intensive Care to float for me."

Abby brushed her hair back and put it into a decent ponytail.

"I just need to lie down. That's all."

Susan nodded. She looked into the mirror once more.

"You know, Kowalski was sick before she left, too."

Abby lost the remaining colour in her face.

"What?"

Susan brushed away a loose eyelash.

"Oh yeah. She yakked over a patient and everything."

Abby's face screwed up into a scowl. She silently cussed and stamped away.

Susan was one of the first of the morning shift to arrive. Barely a person moved. Chen had gone over her previous patients with her and then left before another trauma could suck her back in. Susan readied herself to see the first patient of her day- a man who had suffered a hammer accident. Abby appeared from out of the lounge room. Susan's jaw dropped when she saw that her friend looked infinitely better than a day ago. Abby was almost glowing. Her hair was tied back in a becoming braid and her skin was rosy. She smiled slightly and moved with a springy gait.

"Hey! You look great!" Susan exclaimed.

Abby pouted a little.

"I always looked great."

Susan tried to retract her comment.

"That's...what I meant!"

Susan moved to the patient behind the curtain area.

"You were sick yesterday," Susan noted.

Abby's gaze veered to the left.

"Yeah...I was just...not feeling okay..."

Abby now looked at Susan.

"Bad shrimp...bad shrimp..."

Susan nodded. She remembered what she said to Abby before she stamped out in disgust and nausea. Kowalski, the student nurse from Canada who had left rather abruptly, was ill before she left, too. It was a spell of nausea that was not explained but certainly seen. When Susan had mentioned it to Abby, Abby had been disgusted, angered. Susan was normally loath to bring up any sore points but now the fear of doing such a thing was waning. She would bring this up with Abby.

"It's just that...when I mentioned Kowalski, you..."

Abby perked up.

"Who?"

Susan had seen this behaviour before. Abby's habit of avoiding important issues began to grate on her. Susan decided she would have no more of it.

"Yeah, Kowalski, student nurse, Canadian, big hair, piercings, being irritating..."

Abby interrupted her.

"Yeah, I know. I just don't want to talk about her."

"Why?" Susan asked. "Was she a little too close for comfort with Kovac?"

Abby pursed her lips together. Susan could see she hit a sore point.

"Very funny, Susan. Humour at its finest," she quipped.

"I wasn't trying to be funny," Susan said. "I was trying to be serious."

Abby did not believe her.

"Oh..."

Abby sipped something from her cup.

"Not coffee?" Susan asked.

Abby shrunk away.

"I'm trying to cut back," she mumbled and moved away from Susan.

Susan only gritted her teeth and watched as her friend skulked away.

Thursday.

Nine-ten in the morning.

The sun is out.

No clouds in the sky.

The flower man is rearranging what looks like irises and aloe plants.

"Dr. Carter?"

Carter swivelled his head to Dr. Anspaugh. Back to the M and M. His wandering thoughts were finished.

"I'm sorry?"

"Did you appreciate the loss of blood pressure?" Dr. Anspaugh repeated.

"I, uh..."

Anspaugh was impatiently waiting for an answer.

"It's a yes or no question, Dr. Carter."

Carter looked at his shoes hiding under the podium.

"The BP was in acceptable parameters."

Anspaugh looked at some notes. "According to the notes taken by

the attending nurse, they were not." Anspaugh huffed. "This is a rookie mistake, Dr. Carter." He squared his hammy jowls. "Not like you at all."

Carter thought about his last comment.

"Right," he said too softly to hear and nodded his head.

Carter put his things in his messenger bag. He stared into open space. The M and M had not gone well. As Anspaugh had said, he made a rookie mistake. He made two of them. His luck, as Kerry had said, was running out. He felt empty. He felt guilty. He felt, if he tried, he could get it all back.

"Carter?"

Carter turned his head to the soft voice calling him. It was Kerry. She had a gentle demeanor about her, something Carter felt was unusual and warm.

"Yeah?"

Kerry approached his slowly, her hands clasped together.

"How did the M and M go?" she asked.

"Not too well," he answered and swallowed an obstruction. He zipped up his messenger bag. "They've decided to suspend me until further notice."

Kerry went pale.

"They shouldn't have done that," she said. "One could overlook the labs..."

Carter shook his head. "I messed up." He gripped his bag. "I need some time."

Kerry shook her head. "Please, don't..."

Carter shook his head. "Nah, I...I just need some time..."

Kerry bowed her head. "I would hate to lose you."

Carter laughed wryly. "I would hate to lose me, too." He shut his locker door. "Later, Kerry."

Carter left.

Kerry slumped down at the table and buried her face in her hands.

Susan entered the lounge with an empty coffee cup. She went to the coffee-maker and filled it up with fresh coffee.

"Why so blue, Kerry?"

Kerry, embarrassed that she had been caught unawares, lifted her head up and straightened out her appearance.

"Just a little tired," she explained.

Susan nodded and sat across from her. "How's Carter?" she asked. "He disappeared into here and then left."

Kerry shook his head. "Suspended."

Susan nodded and sipped her coffee. "It's a shame, but he's lucky."

Kerry tilted her head to one side. "How so? He was suspended, and this will go on his record."

Susan was blasé about the matter. "Yes, but he has friends in high places."

Kerry was furious. "Carter got to where he was because of his hard work..."

"He's also damn lucky that some people have found his antics cute," Susan blithely added. Kerry wanted to hear no more of Susan's pessimism.

"If you want to railroad someone you've known since he was a student, you go right ahead."

Susan disagreed. "No, I just want to be able to say what's what for a change."Kerry sneered "Since when have you never said what you were thinking?"

Susan sipped her coffee again. "SinceI got a Fed Ex package a couple of months ago." Kerry was puzzled. Susan went to her locker and pulled out a familiar looking envelope. "I got an envelope from the Heads-Up Programme, too," Susan said coldly.

Kerry clasped her hands tightly and turned pale. "Where did you get that?"

Susan huffed. "Where do you think?"

Kerry gulped. "Kowalski."

Susan nodded and smiled. She reached into the envelope and pulled out a file. "You'd be amazed how computer files can be found, even after you think they've been deleted. And Kowalski- well- she could get anything with a wink and a smile." Susan glanced over the file. "This file here says you gave a patient- an alderman's boyfriend, it turns out- penicillin, which caused him to go into cardiac arrest."

"It was an oversight," Kerry struggled. "I should have reported it but discretion was called for and..."

"Don't give me that crap, Kerry!" Susan demanded. "You gave that kid penicillin and it killed him and then you end up with a cushy job! That's no coincidence!" Susan replaced the file in the opened envelope and hugged it close to her body. "I have to report this."

Kerry grabbed Susan's hand. "Don't...don't do this..." she pleaded.

Susan withdrew her hand. "I'm going to the board with this."

Kerry's face screwed up and turned red. "I'm not going to lose everything I worked for because of that...little...bitch!"

Susan could not believe Kerry. "You did this to yourself."

Susan marched out, leaving Kerry to worry about her fate.

Abby wasn't stupid. If Susan had guessed Kowalski's relationship to Luka and what it had led to, she could surely guess her indiscretion and its forming result. Abby decided she could not live with the stares and the whispers of being Luka's cast-off and she certainly couldn't live with Carter's disapproval. She folded the cardboard boxes and taped them together. Tomorrow, she would give her notice and move back to Minnesota, a place far enough from Chicago and not too painful to live in- for the both of them.

She placed her hand on her stomach.

"It's you and me now, kiddo."

And with that, she started to pack.

Kerry sat the edge of her bed. She prayed that Susan would have had a change of heart. The odds were against it. There was no reasoning, no pleading. Tomorrow would prove a disaster or reprieve.

She cursed the day she took in the girl.

Susan sat before the board. She pushed the file before her.

"This has come to my attention," she said.

Late September

Western Canada

Carter knocked on the door. He looked behind him. No one but the neighbour puttering around in his front yard. The rain had stopped and a fine mist was forming. The door jiggled and then opened. Both people had their breath taken.

After a long time, Carter laid his eyes on the woman who had left him for another.

Ceila wasn't the girl who had left the ER months before. When he had first seen her, she was the unkempt girl with wild hair and a savage mouth. Now, it seemed as though he was sitting across from a different person altogether. She poured tea for them both. Her face bore a pleasant look, like she welcomed an old friend into her new home. Her fingers were a little too swollen for the wedding ring so she wore it on a chain around her neck. She wore her long black hair tied back as she had done in the trauma rooms. Her face looked a year older, or rather, wiser. Her light blue eyes were benevolent. The biggest change was her figure, now months pregnant with Luka's child. Carter couldn't take his eyes off her swollen belly.

Ceila finished pouring the tea and sat down. She rested her hands on her swollen belly.

"I didn't expect to see you," she admitted softly, a smile touching her face.

Carter shot his eyes up from Ceila's figure. "No."

Ceila could sense what Carter was looking at. She rubbed her hand over her belly "Luka keeps thinking the baby is a girl but I think a boy."

Carter forced himself to smile. He touched the saucer. "The place is not the same without you."

It surprised Ceila to hear him say that. "Oh?"

Carter nodded. A child-like smile touched his face."Yeah. The place is falling apart. No one can find anything."

Ceila chuckled a little. "I think you're just saying that."

"No!" Carter insisted. "It's true. We're on the verge of collapse."

Ceila sipped her tea."You're exaggerating. Everyone can get on without me."

Carter stopped. His flattery was not working. "Abby is gone," he reported. "Moved to Minnesota, I think."

Ceila nodded. "Did she get tired of the place?"

He kept his eyes low. "I guess."

"Will you ever get tired of it?" she asked.

He could see the cheerful, curious smile on her face as she asked the question."It's a possibility, yeah," he replied. "I was..." he started uneasily. "I mean- I'm on...sabbatical," he lied. Ceila could see the lie. She said nothing. "I needed time to think things through," Carter said.

Her eyes took on that eerie blue sheen that made his spine shiver."What things?"

Carter became possessed by impulses that racked him before. Her grabbed her hand and held it, noting its softness to himself. Ceila was baffled by his sudden act and tried to take her hand back.

"I've been thinking about you," he admitted. "I've always thought about you, ever since I first saw you, and when we were together."

Ceila bit on her lip to stop it from quivering. She stopped trying to pull her hand back.

Carter tried to look into her eyes. She would not allow it.

"I need you," he breathed. "I can't think without you. I can't do my work. I can't sleep or eat. I can't...I can't...be..."

At first, she said nothing. Her big blue eyes became bigger, her mouth slightly opened and her whiteness ever whiter. She withdrew her hand.

"You can't do anything because of you," Ceila answered simply.

Carter gaped. Her face was not self-satisfied but sad. She looked hurt to say it. "Carter..." she managed. "We can't be. Ever." Ceila looked down. "I think you should go."

Carter shook his head.

"Go now!" she pleaded in a strong voice.

Ceila led him to the front door. She opened it and led him out.

"I can't be what you want," she said quietly.

She started to close the door.

"You can't make someone love someone else."

The door was shut upon him. He imagined he could see her walk slowly to her chair and cry softly to herself but it was not likely. Probably, she went out back, sat down in a quiet place and thought about him and what he said. She would wait for her husband, Luka, to come home. By then, Carter knew he would be gone.

He backed away from the door slowly and walked to the narrow end of the street.

His flight would leave in the evening.

He would head back to Chicago and ask for his job back.

He would pretend he never met Ceila.

He knew he would always remember her when he got home.