I'm on a roll now! Thanks for the reviews everyone... Enjoy!
Chapter 8: A Vial of Smoke
After Chuny had announced the missing medicine, Abby ran around trying to locate Carter, only to find that he was already off his shift. She decided that it would be unwise to hunt him down at his home again . . . Especially since he probably won't be there, Abby thought. After all, it's happy hour. She decided to wait till the next day.
And that's when the opportunity came. The day had been slow. All the doctors joked that there should be some schedule required so that everyone would know when slow times would come.
With no patients on the board, Abby raided the "lost and now ours" box to find something to occupy her mind. A yo-yo did it. Just as she was starting to get a rhythm going, she remembered about Carter. Where was he?
She turned to Pratt, who had just started his shift, and asked, "Have you seen Carter?"
"Yeah," he responded, practicing balancing a pen on his finger, "He's outside. Hey, did he always smoke?"
"Smoke?"
"Yeah, you know, cigarettes."
"No, well, not really. He's in the ambulance bay?"
"Yeah."
"Thanks," Abby responded as she walked outside. She knew Carter. And she knew him well enough to know that he only smoked when he was upset . . . or when he's . . . no, Abby, push that thought out of your mind. You still have no proof. Except for a missing vial.
When she was almost at Carter sitting on the bench, she cleared her throat to get his attention. "Mind if I sit here?"
Carter rolled his eyes. He didn't want to talk to anyone. Not now, he thought. But instead he responded, "Go ahead."
They sat in silence for a moment. Finally Abby stated the obvious. "You're smoking again."
"I guess I am," Carter responded dryly. Inhale. Exhale.
"When did that happen?"
Carter shook his head in a way that only he did. It was a habit of his when he was answering a question or acknowledging something. "A couple weeks ago I guess." And again then there was an eerie silence between them.
Abby had to ask. She forced herself to go outside to sit with him. She might as well ask. But Carter did not want to speak. He wanted to simply sit and enjoy his cigarette.
Once again Abby took upon herself to end the dead air, "Um, Carter?"
"Yeah," he mumbled as he watched people walk by. He was in a daze. Abby was worried by this. She quickly surveyed his appearance. His eyes were sunken like someone who hadn't slept for some time. His cheeks were hollow like someone with malnutrition. And his skin was pale, like someone—
"Abby, what were you going to say?" Carter was getting irritated with the disturbance that was going nowhere.
"Oh, um, now don't get mad at me but it's just . . . you'd tell me if you were in any trouble, right? If you needed any help?—"
"What are you implying, Abby?" He didn't look away from the people walking by, and he didn't express any emotion in his voice. Recently he had been reminding himself, keep calm.
"I just . . . I just wanted to know . . . The thing is you have been drinking a lot lately." Abby was amazed that Carter was able to have an entire conversation without ever looking at her.
"And?"
This wasn't going as well as Abby had hoped. Could it go well? "I'm worried about your drinking."
"I've never had a drinking problem, Abby," he answered as he blew out smoke.
"True enough," Abby said under her breath. "But I just don't want it to lead to anything."
"Don't worry about me. I'm not letting it interfere with anything."
She needed to get this to go in the direction she had intended. There was only one way to do that. Be blunt. Anyway, there was no way to ask it gently. "Are you shooting up again?"
Studying his cigarette intensely, Carter simply took one last drag and flicked the butt away. As he blew out the smoke, he once again started watching people.
He finally spoke, again in a dry voice. "Considering there are no patients, there are a lot of people around here today." He took out another cigarette and lit it, still not looking at Abby.
Abby was stunned. He's dodging the question. She was getting sick of this
This time, suppressing the yell into a hiss, Abby repeated, "Are you shooting up?" It was just loud enough for Carter to hear, and no one else.
Finally, after another drag he responded, "Of course not."
"Look me in the eyes and say that." He slowly looked up at her for the first time in the conversation and she repeated in a whisper this time, "Are you shooting up?"
"No, I am not using." He never even blinked. But Abby didn't believe him. She knew him too well.
Carter must have sensed the tension because his entire attitude changed. He was no longer monotonous and dry. Instead he tried to joke, "But I could use a shot right about now. . . a shot in the head," and he put his hand to his head, imitating a gun going off.
"You know Carter, sometimes I can't tell if you're joking or not."
Still looking directly into Abby's eyes, Carter responded, "Neither can I." He looked away and resumed watching people walk by. After another drag on the cigarette, he continued, "Abby, you don't trust me, do you?"
She couldn't answer. She wanted to say that she did trust him. But she wasn't so sure anymore. "I'm going to be honest, Carter. I don't know if I can. There is a missing vial of fentanyl—"
"And you thing that I took it and that I've been shooting up. Because of course there is no better explanation. Blame it on the junkie."
"You've been moody, Carter. We don't know what to think anymore. And my mind keeps going back to that script. I know what your intentions were with that. I don't know what to do anymore."
Holding the cigarette between his lips he quickly took off his lab coat, rolled up his shirt sleeves, and took off his watch. Abby saw that there were no track marks. Only the faint scar of the old one.
Carter saw the look of relief on her face and smugly responded, "Sorry to disappoint you. Although I suppose this doesn't rule out the possibility of me popping pills." He stood up and continued, "You said that you don't know what to do anymore. Do nothing." He flicked his cigarette into the bay and walked back into the hospital, leaving Abby alone.
Carter tried to keep calm as he made his way through the hospital. It took so much energy that by the time he reached his destination he was shaking.
He found Dr. Weaver's office door open and walked right in, not even allowing her to speak.
"I know I've been acting differently lately. But guess what? My son just died and his mother just left me." He started walking to the door as if that was the end of the lecture. But instead of leaving, he turned back around and continued, "And you can stop sending Abby, hoping that she will catch me again. I don't know how I can get it through all of your heads, but I am not taking drugs. And if I want to drink that is my business—"
Weaver interrupted at this point. "But John, you made it our business when you came in drunk and again when you can in on an ambulance." She motioned for Carter to sit down. He paused for a minute as if considering whether or not it was a trap. Finally he sat down and crossed his arms.
Weaver continued, "I can see that you are very upset at all of this. But I honestly did not send anyone to 'catch you'. Some of your colleagues are worried. You haven't been taking care of yourself. And if I may say so, you look like hell."
Carter started to protest but Weaver stopped him. She said, "Please, let me finish. We are worried, and I want you to start taking better care of yourself. I would like it if you stopped drinking before it became a serious problem. But it is your life, and to an extent we have to trust that you will do what is best for yourself. I can't do anything until it starts interfering with your work."
"It won't," he interjected.
Weaver paused and gathered her thoughts. "Your tox screen came back negative. I have no real reason to go straight to the idea of drugs. Except that you are acting how you did when you were using. The thoughts keep going back and forth. We all know that you are going through a rough time right now. And I am very sorry that you feel we are treating you badly. But we just want to make sure that you don't end up back in Atlanta."
Carter did not know what to say. Finally, he stood and responded, "Thank you for taking the time to listen to me."
"Please, Carter, come talk to me if you ever need to. You know my number. Don't hesitate to call."
"Thank you." And he left. He walked into the washroom and splashed some water on his face. When he looked up in the mirror, he could barely recognize his own face. Well, he thought, she was right about one thing. I do look like hell.
Outside, Abby was still sitting on the bench, trying to understand everything that was going on. Her thoughts were interrupted when someone called her name.
She turned and saw Chuny walking toward her.
"Good news," Chuny said, happily, "I found the vial of fentanyl. It had fallen and was hiding in the corner, just beyond reach."
Abby smiled and responded, "That is good news. Thanks for finding it." But inside she was thinking, I accused Carter for nothing. Shit.
Well,
you're my friend
And can you see
Many times we've been out
drinking
Many times we've shared our thoughts
Did you ever,
ever notice, the kind of thoughts I got
Well you know I have a
love, for everyone I know
And you know I have a drive, for life I
won't let go
But sometimes this opposition, comes rising up in
me
This terrible imposition, comes blacking through my mind
And
then I see a darkness
Oh no, I see a darkness
Do you know how
much I love you
Cause I'm hoping some day soon
You'll save me
from this darkness
Well I hope that someday soon
We'll find
peace in our lives
Together or apart
Alone or with our
wives
And we can stop our whoring
And draw the smiles
inside
And light it up forever
And never go to sleep
My best
unbeaten brother
That isn't all I see
And then I see a
darkness
Oh no, I see a darkness
Do you know how much I love
you
Cause I'm hoping some day soon
You'll save me from this
darkness
Song: "I See A Darkness" by Johnny Cash
So who is confused and
is trying to figure out the mystery? Well, it will all be explained
Another chapter should be coming in a few day. Please review! DMJ
