Chapter 5
MONDAY, 11:20
Mark strolled into the ER and managed a faint smile as he realised how unusually quiet the place seemed. Jesse appeared from one of the exam rooms with a young girl and whom he presumed to be her father.
"So you're going to leave the wrestling up to the professionals now?" Jesse teased the girl, and she nodded shyly as her father led her by the hand past Mark. "Sprained wrist, African Death Grip on her big brother" Jesse explained.
"Oh" said Mark nodding, "I remember Carol breaking her toe, kicked Steve square on the shin during a fun fight. Not that their fights ever had that much fun in them, not when they were older at least", Mark shook his head. "So, Dr Travis, has it been this hectic all morning?" playfully opening his arms wide as they stood together in the empty waiting room.
"Dare I say it" Jesse whispered as he leaned towards Mark "but yes!" The pair smiled as they strolled into the doctor's lounge. "How's Steve doing? Haven't seen him for a few days"
"He's doing pretty well" replied Mark cheerily as they each pulled up a chair at the table. Just then Amanda appeared in the doorway. "Hey you two, what's this, not giving you enough work?"
"What's this yourself" Jesse replied "they must be giving you too much time off if you're using it to hang out here".
"I know" said Amanda "But CJ has another birthday party 11:30 'til 2, he's got a better social life than me! It's Jeanie's turn to pick him up and drop him back, I took her little monster last time. So, I decided an hour or two here to catch up on some paper work, a quick shopping trip, and home to my little man. How's Steve". Jesse liked the way she tagged that bit on, like she wasn't really asking what she'd been bursting to know since she walked in.
"I was just telling Jesse, he seems to be doing really well".
"That's good" Amanda sounded reassuring and nodded as she spoke, Mark just smiled. "And he and Dr Keller are getting on alright?"
"From what I gather, I think the first couple of sessions were difficult, you know, opening up to a stranger. But now he's in the routine he seems quite happy about it".
"How often does he go?" Jesse inquired.
"Twice a week, Mondays after work, Thursday afternoons. And so far he hasn't missed which has to be a good sign. I know it's still early days but really, the last few weeks I've noticed such an improvement. He hasn't had a single outburst that I'm aware of " he looked pensive for a moment then continued "the dreams still come and go".
"But all in all" Amanda recapped, trying to focus on the positive "he's moving in the right direction". Mark grinned in confirmation.
"Well" Jesse said tapping his watch "I'd better get back and man the fort, can't be this quiet all day".
"I'll join you" added Mark as he rose to his feet, and the three doctors left the lounge together.
MONDAY, 21:20
An old black and white movie played on the TV as Mark sat reading through some patient files at home. He looked at his watch; Steve usually got home about ten past nine. He always tried to appear busy when his son arrived back after a session, didn't want to look as if he was just sitting here waiting, which of course is exactly what he was doing. He tried to start Mrs Richardson's file for the third time, looked at his watch again and jumped a little as he heard Steve pull up outside.
Steve opened the door sharply and seemed to be half way across the living room before it closed again. Mark zapped the TV volume up and spread the files around a bit. Steve seemed unusually agitated and it worried Mark, he was usually subdued after a session, would come in and slouch down in a chair for a while. But today he walked straight over to Mark "Hey dad, you busy?" he asked almost breathlessly.
"No, just finished" he lied closing the file and flicking the TV off "something wrong?"
There was a pause. Steve started to speak, changed his mind, paused a while then tried again.
"It's one of those, what's the word? You know, a niggle in your head, doubt, yeah a doubt. You know, one of those nasty little things in the back of your mind you can't put your finger on".
Steve spoke quickly, Mark couldn't really understand what he was getting at "Are you OK?" he asked, as if to clarify that before anything else.
Steve nodded and smiled "yeah, really I'm fine it's just, ah let me get my breath here and I'll start again".
As they sat together on the couch Steve began again. "OK, today we got around to going over some details about Dougie. It was my suggestion actually. Dr Keller refers to our paths crossing as a catalyst, not the cause as such, just a trigger. And I accept that, it's fine but all the time, all the time I had this, this…niggle. Something in my head which didn't quite piece together. So I asked to talk about it tonight." He eventually paused for breath.
Hesitantly now "You OK if I go over some of the details with you?" Mark nodded. "Some stuff about how Dougie got injured?" He was unsure but continued to nod. "and how I got injured?". Mark closed his eyes briefly.
"It's fine Steve" he whispered "if you want to talk I'm here to listen".
Steve drew a deep breath "I only met Dougie a couple of days before he was, I mean we were injured. Scouting groups were being merged and we ended up together. I remember feeling sorry for him, talking to him about life back home. He didn't have any family, spent a lot of time in kids homes, got messed around a lot. He signed up to be part of one big happy family or something. He was young you know, 18."
Mark smiled, Steve was young too he thought, but he didn't interrupt.
"He was a little immature sometimes, goofing around and stuff. But then he could seem so old, he'd already seen so much, even before he signed up. We weren't best buddies, all I'm saying is I liked the guy." He paused and glanced towards Mark, continuing in even slower, softer tones. "So we were out on patrol, it was just turning to dusk and it was raining real heavy." Steve rubbed his hands together as if they were cold. Come to think of it Mark also felt a chill run through him. He'd never heard details of how Steve was injured. It was silly, but even to know that it was raining that day made him feel somewhat sad.
"Things started to go badly, a couple of the new recruits managed to stray a little too far, and then 'boom', all hell broke loose. It was one of those time warps you know, it's all happening so fast it's a blur but at the same time every second just drags, like this is the start of eternity. I was lucky to be standing far enough back from another guy, Mickey I think his name was, kid from Chicago, when he tripped a booby trap. That's when I got those shrapnel nicks down my side and back but god it was nothing. Some of the shrapnel wounds out there were worse than the bullet ones" he observed casually. "I felt the little darts of pain, and the blood was warm even though my skin was cold." He looked at Mark, he needed to know that he was OK with this. He was a doctor, but Steve didn't want to distress him with the details if he wasn't up to it.
"It's OK, go on" Mark prompted. Steve bowed his head and did so.
"There were a few men down already, everybody was screaming for the corpsmen, dragging guys off to the Amtrac. Dougie moved across close to me, he was about 4, 5 feet at the most behind me, I kept glancing back at him over my right shoulder. Then I felt the bullet in my hip, I guess I tried to stay up for a few seconds but my leg just gave way and I crumpled to the ground. That's when it happened. Dougie shouted that I was down and headed towards me. The next foot he put down tripped a booby trap, and that was it. I must have stepped over it, I'd walked there just before him. He was lying there just panting, holding onto this.." Steve hesitated, losing his voice for the first time. "His foot was gone, the rest of his leg looked like it was hanging on by a thread. The shrapnel tore him up, he was bleeding a hell of a lot. I tried to get up to go over to him but my leg just felt dead, useless and I fell back down. I dragged myself over to him and screamed for the corpsmen."
Although they'd sat silently for a few minutes now Mark didn't want to speak. Steve's look told him he hadn't finished, he was just collecting his thoughts, composing himself before continuing.
"We were taken to the hospital in different Amtracs, but when we got there we were on gurneys lined up alongside each other. I looked over at him" Steve turned his head to the left a little, replaying the moment. "They were walking down the line demanding name, rank, number, DOB" he counted them off on his fingers "mother, father, commanding officer and where you'd come in from. What religion you were so they could get you last rites or whatever. Dougie was lying there, pretty out of it, they'd given him his first whack of pain relief, I answered as much as I could for him. He kept trying to pull himself up to a sitting position, pulling on the sheets. Everything was bright red stained in his blood, I told him to lie down. Then he turned to me." His hands shook now, as did his voice "He said 'can you see them Sloan?', I said 'see what' and he said 'my legs, can you see my legs?'. I told him it was going to be OK now but he kept asking 'have I got my legs Sloan? Can you see them'. I told him I could, that one looked a little messed up but he'd be OK."
The colour had drained from Steve's face now, he looked gaunt and continued to shake slightly. He rested his head in his hands and spoke some more "They were so busy, people lay there forever waiting for attention. I kept looking at Dougie's leg, hoping they'd take him away soon. The drugs were wearing off a little and he said he couldn't feel anything, prodding his stomach showing me where the sensation ended. I eventually told him his foot was gone, you know what he said? 'Why the hell didn't you pick it up Sloan? If there was any of you come off I'd' have brought it along'. Almost made me smile, I don't know why." But Steve wasn't smiling now, there was a new, determined tone to his voice. "We lay there, room full of guys bleeding and screaming. I just tried to close my eyes real tight, block it all out, kept thinking I'd got off lightly. As long as I got through the anaesthetic OK and didn't get infected I'd make back. I remembered the horror stories of Doc's who sometimes amputated even when it wasn't necessary. Just crossed my fingers, glancing over at Dougie, thinking at least I had pain, I had my leg and I could feel it."
Steve began to smile a little, then almost beamed. He looked Mark full in the face "Dougie must have thought I'd died or something 'cos he started screaming at me to open my eyes. He said 'didn't you say your ol' man was a doc?' and I said you were, he said 'do you think he'd make a house call for a friend of the family, he'd be here quicker than we're gonna get treated?' We started talking about you and mom and Carol. He asked a load of questions, guess it's 'cos he never had a real family. It was strange talking about you as I lay there. It felt good, 'cos I knew the chances were I'd be home soon, pretty cowardly I guess, but I also felt so, so distant from you all. Lying there in a room with all these mutilated bodies, people dying every second. Carol was probably at school, mom was maybe doing the grocery shopping and you'd be at the hospital. We talked for a bit, I started getting really drowsy and it worried me, but not as much as Dougie did." His words were stronger again, angry, he gritted his teeth as he continued, almost shouting "They kept taking guys off to the Operating Room and eventually they came in to wheel Dougie out. I shouted good luck, they got him over to the door and then stopped, just left him there and went off again! I started screaming, just like everybody else was I guess. When a nurse was eventually close enough to me I grabbed at him, pointed to Dougie and asked why they'd left him there." Dejected now, he shook his head "He said they'd brought another truckload in and were dealing with emergencies first. I started shouting about Dougie waiting too long already and having lost his goddamn foot, they just pinned me down and gave me a shot of something. The next thing I knew I was looking at the ceiling, dribbling."
Mark swallowed hard. The scene Steve had described made him feel sick. He recognised the survivor's guilt, that it was Dougie who stepped on the booby trap and not him. And the guilt that he didn't get medical attention for him sooner. Knowing it would make little difference Mark chipped in anyway "With the injuries Dougie sustained, I doubt any more could have been done medically speaking to improve his prognosis. I honestly don't think he'd be any better off if he'd been treated sooner, the damage was done and it was irreparable." Steve tried hard to believe his fathers words. "When did they take him to surgery?"
"I don't know" Steve whimpered "I was out of it, that was the last I saw of him, he got shipped home, back down to Texas pretty quickly. Never saw or heard from him again, wondered how he was from time to time. Only thing I knew for sure was that he'd survived, didn't know any more details than that." There was a long pause "I saw him lying in that bed, wheelchair, prosthetic propped up against the wall. Jesse talking about him being this obnoxious guy, all self centred, drinking himself to death. He was a great guy, so positive despite his situation. Could have been me dad, and I swear for years after I got home I'd think of that every day as I'd get out of bed. Even now when I get cramp or a twinge or the cold weather stiffens me up, I try and remember how positive the pain was back then. It was something to focus on, something to let you know you were alive. A hell of a lot better than having to ask somebody else if you're legs were still there."
In the last 20 years Steve had never admitted to still having pain from his hip. He limped a little and winced occasionally but he never mentioned it. Mark didn't know whether to be proud or concerned by that fact.
"I'm gonna get a water, want one?" Steve's question snapped Mark out of his thoughts, he nodded and Steve headed towards the kitchen.
MONDAY, 21:43
The pair sat in silence on the couch, Steve sipping a glass of water and staring off into the distance. "Dad?" he asked, still focusing somewhere across the room.
"Yes"
"Dad, you know when I came in tonight I said I had this niggle in my mind, something that didn't quite fit." Mark nodded. "I just told you all of that stuff, details and stuff to prove to you my memory is clear. I sometimes wish it wasn't, but it is. Do you believe everything I just told you?"
Mark was shocked, why would he ask that? "Steve, why wouldn't I believe you? I mean of course I do, I don't understand."
"Tell me dad, tell me that my memory is clear and that I'm not…" he began to laugh "tell me I'm not crazy dad" he chuckled now as he faced his father.
Mark realised he was really expected to responded. He cleared his throat "Steve, I believe you told me the truth, and you certainly are not crazy".
"OK" Steve nodded "hold that thought, 'cos when I actually say what's in my mind, I don't know if either of us are gonna believe that any more." He drew a deep breath and smiling began again.
"It was the wrong leg"
Mark looked puzzled, but Steve didn't expand.
"The wrong leg?" Mark repeated.
"Yes dad, when I saw Dougie at the hospital, it was the wrong leg. Propped against the wall I mean. I don't suppose I looked at it really closely but I must have, you know, noticed it. And that was the doubt in my mind, the missing piece, the wrong leg! It only hit me this morning, I don't know how I didn't realise sooner." He paused "Now you think I'm crazy right?"
Mark waited a few seconds, looking perplexed. "What exactly do you mean Steve, wrong leg in what sense".
Steve turned his head to the right a little and motioned with his hand "He was behind me, I looked over my shoulder and the booby trap was at the far side of him. When we were in the hospital" he gestured to the left now "he was lying there, and I could see his foot missing. Dougie lost his right leg dad. And I'm praying now that you're gonna tell me it was still his right leg missing when he showed up at Community General 'cos I'd swear to god it was a left prosthetic I saw in his room".
Mark pondered a moment, then looking dejected said "It was a long time ago Steve, and you'd just been through an incredibly traumatic experience".
"Don't think you understand how this game works dad" Steve joked "you were supposed to tell me my memory was clear and I'm not crazy, remember?".
They sat smiling at each other "I'll have a word with Jesse, he saw him a lot more than I did, I'm sure he can even pull his chart if necessary."
"I'm not crazy dad, unless Dougie lost his other leg too but only got one prosthetic.."
Mark shook his head "no, he definitely had his other leg"
Steve shrugged, "I don't hold much hope of Jesse solving this one. I'm telling you dad, it's the wrong leg". And with that he left Mark alone to ponder the highly unusual discrepancy.