Just hours later, Carter jumped at the buzzing of his alarm clock. He
reached for the snooze button, but refrained from slamming his hand down
upon the clock that stared him down, telling him that it was nine o'clock.
He had already known that he wasn't to be at work early. No, not today. Not
to mention, he had forgotten something. He suddenly jumped when he realized
he was going to see Paul. He tried to jump up out of bed, but fell back
down when his vision became clouded. This was a usual thing that he knew he
couldn't do. After lying down for hours on end, it is a known fact that one
cannot just leap into the air. He sat with his head against the headboard
until the spots went away. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, then was ready
to go.
He woke himself with a shower and then got into his green scrub shirt and suspenders. He wanted to show Paul that he could indeed finish med. school. And not to mention the element of surprise it would bring to Paul's face.
Skipping breakfast, he jumped into his Jeep (after he ran back into the house to get his keys) and headed to the nearest Chinese restaurant. "Maybe I should call Bosnia. nah," he thought to himself, referring to a joke he had made when he was having a bad day back in March. He was thinking of how much fun it would be to talk to Paul, and then some. He thought about a lot of things until he was jolted from his seat and pulled back at the same time by his seatbelt.
"Whoa!" Carter yelled as he hit the brake.
He looked ahead to see that he had just rear-ended a car. And of course it wasn't an ordinary car. It couldn't have been a Suzuki or a Chevette, oh no. No no no, not for Carter. It had to be a '68 Corvette with a huge rear crumple zone and a very large driver. With very large muscles.
"Oh damn," Carter managed to whisper as the man stepped out and looked at his car.
"This your doing?" the man asked, gesturing to his precious' rear. His sleeves had been cut off his tee shirt. The man turned out not be as large as Carter had hallucinated. He couldn't have weighed more than 175. Unfortunately, the muscles were still huge.
"I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking. Look, I'm on my way to a very important meeting with an old friend, so maybe I can write a check? Heh, heh," A nervous laugher took over.
"You think this is funny?" He had an Italian accent. A Vinny for sure. A Mafia Vinny for certainty, Carter thought. "Step out of the vehicle, miss."
"Hey, no need for insults," Carter put in as he locked his door. Judging by the look the man gave him when he heard the click, that was a bad idea. He unlocked it, unbuckled, and stepped out.
"Oh, so you think you're safe with a belt? You look like a doctor. You're gonna need your skills, buddy."
"Oh come on," Carter said, knowing the restaurant was only about three buildings away from his sight.
"Come on? Okay, have it your way," The man laughed as he grabbed Carter by the v-shaped neck of his shirt, pushing him against the Jeep's door.
Carter tried to push the man off, but he was reluctant to letting go. So, he put his arms over top of the other man's and shoved down. It was enough to weaken the grip. Carter shoved the man back just so he wasn't pinned against his Jeep. The man looked at him and shook his head. Carter had a bad habit of laughing nervously, which was bad now. As he tried to hold back a nervous laugh, the man's face reddened. He tried to hold back, but couldn't. The next thing Carter knew, he was on the ground from a punch across the face. He had spun so that he was face down in the street. He pushed himself off the ground and spat out blood. He wiped his mouth and turned around with his arm raised in a fist. He socked the man back, but hit him in the eye rather than the mouth. "Vinny" showed no mercy, and grabbed Carter by the shoulders, pulling him closer and putting a knee out. He thrust his knee into Carter, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to bend down, when he kneed him in the face, sending him into the Corvette. No, it couldn't have been a Chevette. When the Mafia-man came at a quickened pace with an arm raised, Carter spun rolled out of the way, making the man punch the back of his totaled rear. The man raised his arms and ran his hands through his hair in disbelief as he looked at the fresh new dent. This gave Carter his chance, and he took it. He put his own arms around the man's and behind his head, making him vulnerable and unable to fight back.
"I don't want to hurt you, I never did. I said I was sorry and offered to pay, but that wasn't good enough for you. I'll see you for reimbursement after your insurance company sends me any bill you can conjure up. I work at Cook County General, send it there. But until then, I have a destination." He pulled a twenty out of his pocket with a shaking hand.
"Here," he said, putting the twenty in the man's front pocket. "Buy yourself lunch."
It was then that he made a run for it by jumping into his Jeep, starting it again, and shoving the stick shift into reverse. Just three feet later, he rammed it into first and sped toward the Third Street restaurant, completely screwing the Chinese.
He pulled over at the restaurant. Paul wasn't there. He decided to clean himself up, so he went inside and went to a waitress, the one that had, in fact, served him just last night. She gasped at the sight of him.
"I know, I know. Say, could you do me a favor? If a man comes in here, brown hair, glasses, green eyes, probably my height, and he's looking for a John Carter, tell him he can find me in the bathroom?"
"Sure, anything. What happened?" She asked.
"Don't want to talk about it, I'm kind of in a hurry."
He rushed to the men's room and looked around, making sure no one was in there. He leaned on the sink, then collapsed himself in a nearby chair, breathing painfully and heavily. He was shaking. Even though the fight hadn't lasted long, the man had had a lot of force to put out. Carter then got enough breath to get up and look in the mirror. Still panting but no longer shaking, he gasped at the sight of himself. He had to blink twice.
What he saw was his mouth filling with blood from his gums. His teeth were tinted red. His left cheek was a shade of blue where he had been kneed in the face (which was the second attack from the man's knee). He felt the back of his head, and his hand came back moist with blood from where he had hit the crushed metal of the rear end of the Corvette. He cringed at his reflection, and frowned at the blood on his shirt. Just then, the door swung open. There stood a man with brown hair, green eyes, and now thin- rimmed glasses.
"Hey, Carter! Holy God, what happened?" Yes, it was Paul.
"Hey Paul, how's it going for you lately?" Carter asked sounding almost excited to see him. "Everything's dandy here," he added hastily right before he spat out more blood and collapsed himself back into the chair, trying to get more breath from the force of the man's right knee. He breathed heavily and resumed shaking, then rested his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.
"Carter, what happened?" He asked again with great concern.
"I hit some guy in his Corvette, and, he, you know. He got a little mad, alright?"
Paul frowned, then smiled a little. "So, did you hit him?"
Carter looked up at him, mouth open. "Yea," he said in an 'are-you-kidding' tone.
"Well, anyway, I see you finished med. school," Paul put in. "You do know that I never REALLY doubted you, right?"
"I know you never doubted any of us. You're too soft," Carter said, then coughed.
"Hey!" Paul said, then added, "You okay?"
"Yea, I just never thought getting kneed in the chest could cause so much damage." He drew in a breath and sat back.
"Whoa, hold on a sec.," Paul said, looking at his shirt. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to the blood that was there.
"Just some crap from my face. whoa," he said, looking down at his shirt. "There wasn't that much there before!" He started to sound worried.
"Wait," Paul said as he kneeled down to get a closer look. "There's a hole there. Did that guy stab you with something?"
"No, it was just a fist fight. The only other hit I took was when he punched me and I landed on the ground, face fir." Carter cut himself off. "Oh man, oh man," he started, sounding more worried.
"Lift your shirt, Carter. I think you might have landed on something."
Carter did as his friend asked, and sure enough there was a small piece of metal. At least, it looked small, but he couldn't see the whole thing. Paul hadn't realized until only a few seconds later that his friend had seen the metal. Carter had started to look away and talk to himself when Paul but in.
"Calm down," he said. "Where could it have come from?"
"I guess some metal flew and I landed on a piece. Oh man, Paul. I need help," he started to shake more.
"Where do you work?"
"Cook County, you know where it is," he answered.
Paul picked up Carter, but he pulled away.
"Hold on, I don't want to make a scene," Carter said as he bent down and splashed his face with water and rinsed his mouth. He folded his arms so no one would see the hole, then went with Paul.
"I'm going to drive you," Paul told him. "I'll come back for your car, but I'm going to get you to that hospital."
"Okay, but take me in the side ER door. Like I said, I don't want to make a scene." Carter wiped his face one last time, then let Paul lead him outside. Carter gave a nod to the waitress as they left, then Paul helped him into his Chevy Tahoe. It was definitely a big step compared to his own, Carter thought. Paul grabbed Carter's keys from his topless Jeep, then started the Tahoe.
They talked awhile as they drove to the hospital, Carter getting a little less stressed with every subject. When they made it there, Paul had to help him out of his massive black SUV. As promised, he led Carter to the side door. When they walked in, Carter did one thing. He yelled for help.
"Mark!" he called down the hallway. "Doug? Peter? Someone!"
Meanwhile, Mark was at the front desk. He and Jerry looked at each other.
"Did you hear that?" Mark asked Jerry.
"Yea, I did," he said as he headed down the hall. Mark followed.
Carter looked down the hall and saw Jerry and Mark, although they didn't see him yet.
"Mark! Jerry!" he yelled to them.
The two looked at each other again.
"Oh my God, that's Carter," Mark said. They broke into a run to find Carter with a man they had never met before, which reminded Mark much of himself.
"What happened to you?" Mark said as he helped Carter to a curtained room.
"Him and some guy got into a fight, and he landed on a piece of metal. It's in him, man! I didn't know what else to do than bring him to work. I don't know all the details, all I know is that it's pretty weird," Paul explained.
"Who are you?" Jerry asked, sounding a little concerned.
"Don't worry," Carter said in a breathy tone. "He's an old friend."
When they got to the curtain, Mark instructed Jerry to help Carter into a bed as he ran out and got Peter and Doug. When they came back, they found Carter breathing very hard while the other two looked very worried. They gave Carter an oxygen mask, cut his scrub shirt off, and got to work trying to remove the metal.
The entire time, everything seemed like a daze to Carter. He heard the medical terms, but didn't comprehend a word. It wasn't from any impending unconsciousness, or from shock, maybe a contribution from lack of oxygen, but mostly because he had so much he had to say. He needed to get things done, but he didn't realize how serious the situation was. All he realized was that there was a job not getting done, and he had to finish it.
It was only a matter of minutes until the metal was pulled from Carter. He sat up in a rush as he inhaled the deepest shock of a breath he could manage. It scared him, for he had not been able to do that for about twenty minutes or so. He exhaled with a few hacking coughs.
"Everything's okay," Doug told him. "Just sit still."
Carter couldn't feel a thing thanks to a certain injected painkiller, but he knew that they were putting in stitches. After the fuss was over, he had one question.
"Uh, there's some blood coming off my head, is that bad?"
Peter rolled his eyes as he checked the back of Carter's head.
"Nothing serious, just a scrape. Not stitch-worthy if that's what you meant," He informed him.
"You are damn lucky," Doug said to him as he leaned against the wall behind the bed.
"Yea, it's a miracle that you're not in the OR," Peter added.
"Why?" Carter asked.
Mark explained. "Well, the metal that went in must have bent some how because when we pulled it out, the point was curled away from you. It was only pushing on your lungs, and there wasn't even a small hole there or a spec of internal bleeding. I don't know how it got bent after it went into you, but man were you lucky."
"How do you know it wasn't bent before it went in?" Carter asked.
"Because," Mark said, holding up a now clean piece of metal that was painted red like the Corvette, which must have shattered, Carter later thought, "There is no way that could have pierced anything, let alone skin." He was right, the point was curled under in a way that it never could have made such a deep gash.
Carter stared in amazement. It really was a freaky sort of miracle.
"So, I guess I'll never get a Corvette," he said, wide-eyed.
"So, how DID that happen, anyway? I want all the details," Paul asked.
"Yea," Doug, Peter, Jerry, and Mark said in unison as Jerry grabbed chairs for everyone to sit on as they listened.
Carter gave them every juicy detail, and before he knew it, he had an audience. Nurses, receptionists, every one that had been close had heard the story.
"Uh," Carter said after he told his story, "Can I have a minute alone with Paul? I've been trying to talk to him all day."
Everyone left with a moan, knowing that story time was over and it was time to go back to work.
"So Paul, I wanted to tell you. I saw Laura a few months ago. I think it was the middle of March or something. Anyway, she was in a bad accident. Were you aware of this?"
Paul looked at the ground and frowned at himself.
"Paul I know what happened, and I know you would never hurt her."
Paul began to tear. "I knew it, I knew someone would find out. It was just an accident, I didn't mean to hurt anyone, you're right. I don't want to go to jail or anything. I tried to pull her back up, but she jumped back and the way she jumped, I couldn't hold on to her. I mean, I tried to get her but this truck came, and I, I just, I went into a sort of shock or something. My heart sank and I, I couldn't move. I tried to move, but I couldn't! John, I feel so bad. I was so scared, I never even called her, I never got to say anything. I never even got to apologize!" He almost broke down until Carter spoke.
"Well you can apologize tonight," Carter told him.
"You mean, you mean, she's okay? I thought I killed her! I haven't been able to sleep since it happened. I never visited her because I thought she would get mad and I never called and she never called and I just didn't know what to do, but thank God she's okay!"
"I was hoping we could all get lunch and set things straight, but it doesn't look like I'm going to make lunch since, well, you know. But I'm starving! How about you and me go to the cafeteria and talk it over, huh?"
Paul could only nod with his mixed emotions.
"It's okay," Carter reassured him. "She's fine. She understands how you felt about it. Now calm down, and let's go get some lunch."
Paul got some air while Carter went to his locker and got his scrub shirt that was for just-in-case occasions. At the time, he never really knew what the case was going to be, but he put it there. Just in case. Afterwards, they went to the cafeteria and got the special of the day. Hoagies. Good for them, Carter thought, considering what was normally down there. Which is why he normally brought his schoolboy lunch. They then called Laura and set a time for dinner at the Eighth Street restaurant this time. After that, Paul got his Jeep for him. Then Carter went to work as though nothing had happened to him.
At dinner, they had talked about the days in high school. At the boulder in the park, they watched the sun set once again like they had used to. Paul started what they had gone out for as soon as the sun was all the way down.
"So," Paul started, "I didn't want to be too weird about this, but, uh, how are you, Laura?" he said almost formally as if they had only met via nametag.
"You mean our little, uh, accident?" she said, sounding annoyed.
He didn't know what to say.
"I never meant to hurt you," he said at the same time that she admitted,
"I know you never meant to hurt me."
They all sat for a while in silence. Not event the crickets chirped. Then, out of no where, Laura and Paul turned to each other and hugged. The movement startled Carter.
"I'm so sorry. Do you forgive me?" Paul pleaded.
"Yes, but only if you forgive me for never even telling you I was okay," she promised.
"Yea. I'd have to, I mean, this is all my fault. I could have killed you, Laura."
"But you didn't," Laura and Carter said at the same time.
There was a slight pause between the trio.
"Well I'd love to stay and chat, ladies, but I have to be at work early," Paul said.
"Okay. What do you do, anyway?" Carter asked. "What do both of you do?"
"I'm a designer at this computer company. I get ragged on a lot, but it pays."
They all laughed a little.
"I was working double shift at this fancy restaurant a few blocks away, but I'm training to be a psychiatrist."
Carter and Paul looked at each other.
"I wanted to surprise you," she admitted.
"Well you certainly did," Carter said. "I think you all know what I do."
"Yea," Paul said. "Demolition derbies with a side of street fighting with Mafia-men."
Carter had to laugh. "Yea," he said.
"Well," Paul said with a yawn, "I should get going. I'll talk to you later. Hopefully not much." He stood up.
"See ya," Carter and Laura said in unison.
"Yea, see ya," he said back. He then turned around and left. Once they had heard his Tahoe rev, they looked at each other.
"Man, I've missed him," Carter said.
"Me, too," Laura added.
It was then that they looked at each other. Their brown eyes were focused on each other. The whole park was silent again, as Carter involuntarily leaned toward Laura. He stopped himself, not quite knowing what he was doing. He had hoped he hadn't made a fool of himself, but Laura never noticed.
"It's nice to see an old friend," she said. "I'm tired, too. We should probably go."
"Yea. I think I'll stay a little while, though. But do you think you could come to my place? You know, tomorrow night," Carter suggested.
"Alright. Are you going to call Paul?" she asked.
"Uh, actually, I was hoping we could just, you know, watch some movies or something. You know, like we used to do. I know we did that with Paul, but that was after junior high, and I just want it to be you and me. Do you mind?"
"Nope, not at all. In fact, I'll bring the popcorn and stuff," she agreed. "I'll see you, around eight okay?"
"Sure," Carter said quietly.
"Okay. Bye, Carter," she said as she walked down the rocky hill from the boulder.
"Bye, Laura," he said after her.
He heard her car start, and he lay back on the boulder and looked up at the stars. He hadn't noticed until now that he had loved her for all these years and that just once, and maybe only once if that was all he could have, was one romantic night with her. He just wanted to know how it would be if he did. He didn't care about the future, whether they would be just friends or not, but he had to tell her how he felt. He remained on the rock until he could no longer see what was around him. In fact, he had almost fallen asleep. He pulled his keys out of his pocket, lit a small Maglite that he had put there (just in case), and walked to his Jeep. He let out a sigh, and drove away. Only in a matter of hours would he finally get his chance.
He woke himself with a shower and then got into his green scrub shirt and suspenders. He wanted to show Paul that he could indeed finish med. school. And not to mention the element of surprise it would bring to Paul's face.
Skipping breakfast, he jumped into his Jeep (after he ran back into the house to get his keys) and headed to the nearest Chinese restaurant. "Maybe I should call Bosnia. nah," he thought to himself, referring to a joke he had made when he was having a bad day back in March. He was thinking of how much fun it would be to talk to Paul, and then some. He thought about a lot of things until he was jolted from his seat and pulled back at the same time by his seatbelt.
"Whoa!" Carter yelled as he hit the brake.
He looked ahead to see that he had just rear-ended a car. And of course it wasn't an ordinary car. It couldn't have been a Suzuki or a Chevette, oh no. No no no, not for Carter. It had to be a '68 Corvette with a huge rear crumple zone and a very large driver. With very large muscles.
"Oh damn," Carter managed to whisper as the man stepped out and looked at his car.
"This your doing?" the man asked, gesturing to his precious' rear. His sleeves had been cut off his tee shirt. The man turned out not be as large as Carter had hallucinated. He couldn't have weighed more than 175. Unfortunately, the muscles were still huge.
"I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking. Look, I'm on my way to a very important meeting with an old friend, so maybe I can write a check? Heh, heh," A nervous laugher took over.
"You think this is funny?" He had an Italian accent. A Vinny for sure. A Mafia Vinny for certainty, Carter thought. "Step out of the vehicle, miss."
"Hey, no need for insults," Carter put in as he locked his door. Judging by the look the man gave him when he heard the click, that was a bad idea. He unlocked it, unbuckled, and stepped out.
"Oh, so you think you're safe with a belt? You look like a doctor. You're gonna need your skills, buddy."
"Oh come on," Carter said, knowing the restaurant was only about three buildings away from his sight.
"Come on? Okay, have it your way," The man laughed as he grabbed Carter by the v-shaped neck of his shirt, pushing him against the Jeep's door.
Carter tried to push the man off, but he was reluctant to letting go. So, he put his arms over top of the other man's and shoved down. It was enough to weaken the grip. Carter shoved the man back just so he wasn't pinned against his Jeep. The man looked at him and shook his head. Carter had a bad habit of laughing nervously, which was bad now. As he tried to hold back a nervous laugh, the man's face reddened. He tried to hold back, but couldn't. The next thing Carter knew, he was on the ground from a punch across the face. He had spun so that he was face down in the street. He pushed himself off the ground and spat out blood. He wiped his mouth and turned around with his arm raised in a fist. He socked the man back, but hit him in the eye rather than the mouth. "Vinny" showed no mercy, and grabbed Carter by the shoulders, pulling him closer and putting a knee out. He thrust his knee into Carter, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to bend down, when he kneed him in the face, sending him into the Corvette. No, it couldn't have been a Chevette. When the Mafia-man came at a quickened pace with an arm raised, Carter spun rolled out of the way, making the man punch the back of his totaled rear. The man raised his arms and ran his hands through his hair in disbelief as he looked at the fresh new dent. This gave Carter his chance, and he took it. He put his own arms around the man's and behind his head, making him vulnerable and unable to fight back.
"I don't want to hurt you, I never did. I said I was sorry and offered to pay, but that wasn't good enough for you. I'll see you for reimbursement after your insurance company sends me any bill you can conjure up. I work at Cook County General, send it there. But until then, I have a destination." He pulled a twenty out of his pocket with a shaking hand.
"Here," he said, putting the twenty in the man's front pocket. "Buy yourself lunch."
It was then that he made a run for it by jumping into his Jeep, starting it again, and shoving the stick shift into reverse. Just three feet later, he rammed it into first and sped toward the Third Street restaurant, completely screwing the Chinese.
He pulled over at the restaurant. Paul wasn't there. He decided to clean himself up, so he went inside and went to a waitress, the one that had, in fact, served him just last night. She gasped at the sight of him.
"I know, I know. Say, could you do me a favor? If a man comes in here, brown hair, glasses, green eyes, probably my height, and he's looking for a John Carter, tell him he can find me in the bathroom?"
"Sure, anything. What happened?" She asked.
"Don't want to talk about it, I'm kind of in a hurry."
He rushed to the men's room and looked around, making sure no one was in there. He leaned on the sink, then collapsed himself in a nearby chair, breathing painfully and heavily. He was shaking. Even though the fight hadn't lasted long, the man had had a lot of force to put out. Carter then got enough breath to get up and look in the mirror. Still panting but no longer shaking, he gasped at the sight of himself. He had to blink twice.
What he saw was his mouth filling with blood from his gums. His teeth were tinted red. His left cheek was a shade of blue where he had been kneed in the face (which was the second attack from the man's knee). He felt the back of his head, and his hand came back moist with blood from where he had hit the crushed metal of the rear end of the Corvette. He cringed at his reflection, and frowned at the blood on his shirt. Just then, the door swung open. There stood a man with brown hair, green eyes, and now thin- rimmed glasses.
"Hey, Carter! Holy God, what happened?" Yes, it was Paul.
"Hey Paul, how's it going for you lately?" Carter asked sounding almost excited to see him. "Everything's dandy here," he added hastily right before he spat out more blood and collapsed himself back into the chair, trying to get more breath from the force of the man's right knee. He breathed heavily and resumed shaking, then rested his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.
"Carter, what happened?" He asked again with great concern.
"I hit some guy in his Corvette, and, he, you know. He got a little mad, alright?"
Paul frowned, then smiled a little. "So, did you hit him?"
Carter looked up at him, mouth open. "Yea," he said in an 'are-you-kidding' tone.
"Well, anyway, I see you finished med. school," Paul put in. "You do know that I never REALLY doubted you, right?"
"I know you never doubted any of us. You're too soft," Carter said, then coughed.
"Hey!" Paul said, then added, "You okay?"
"Yea, I just never thought getting kneed in the chest could cause so much damage." He drew in a breath and sat back.
"Whoa, hold on a sec.," Paul said, looking at his shirt. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to the blood that was there.
"Just some crap from my face. whoa," he said, looking down at his shirt. "There wasn't that much there before!" He started to sound worried.
"Wait," Paul said as he kneeled down to get a closer look. "There's a hole there. Did that guy stab you with something?"
"No, it was just a fist fight. The only other hit I took was when he punched me and I landed on the ground, face fir." Carter cut himself off. "Oh man, oh man," he started, sounding more worried.
"Lift your shirt, Carter. I think you might have landed on something."
Carter did as his friend asked, and sure enough there was a small piece of metal. At least, it looked small, but he couldn't see the whole thing. Paul hadn't realized until only a few seconds later that his friend had seen the metal. Carter had started to look away and talk to himself when Paul but in.
"Calm down," he said. "Where could it have come from?"
"I guess some metal flew and I landed on a piece. Oh man, Paul. I need help," he started to shake more.
"Where do you work?"
"Cook County, you know where it is," he answered.
Paul picked up Carter, but he pulled away.
"Hold on, I don't want to make a scene," Carter said as he bent down and splashed his face with water and rinsed his mouth. He folded his arms so no one would see the hole, then went with Paul.
"I'm going to drive you," Paul told him. "I'll come back for your car, but I'm going to get you to that hospital."
"Okay, but take me in the side ER door. Like I said, I don't want to make a scene." Carter wiped his face one last time, then let Paul lead him outside. Carter gave a nod to the waitress as they left, then Paul helped him into his Chevy Tahoe. It was definitely a big step compared to his own, Carter thought. Paul grabbed Carter's keys from his topless Jeep, then started the Tahoe.
They talked awhile as they drove to the hospital, Carter getting a little less stressed with every subject. When they made it there, Paul had to help him out of his massive black SUV. As promised, he led Carter to the side door. When they walked in, Carter did one thing. He yelled for help.
"Mark!" he called down the hallway. "Doug? Peter? Someone!"
Meanwhile, Mark was at the front desk. He and Jerry looked at each other.
"Did you hear that?" Mark asked Jerry.
"Yea, I did," he said as he headed down the hall. Mark followed.
Carter looked down the hall and saw Jerry and Mark, although they didn't see him yet.
"Mark! Jerry!" he yelled to them.
The two looked at each other again.
"Oh my God, that's Carter," Mark said. They broke into a run to find Carter with a man they had never met before, which reminded Mark much of himself.
"What happened to you?" Mark said as he helped Carter to a curtained room.
"Him and some guy got into a fight, and he landed on a piece of metal. It's in him, man! I didn't know what else to do than bring him to work. I don't know all the details, all I know is that it's pretty weird," Paul explained.
"Who are you?" Jerry asked, sounding a little concerned.
"Don't worry," Carter said in a breathy tone. "He's an old friend."
When they got to the curtain, Mark instructed Jerry to help Carter into a bed as he ran out and got Peter and Doug. When they came back, they found Carter breathing very hard while the other two looked very worried. They gave Carter an oxygen mask, cut his scrub shirt off, and got to work trying to remove the metal.
The entire time, everything seemed like a daze to Carter. He heard the medical terms, but didn't comprehend a word. It wasn't from any impending unconsciousness, or from shock, maybe a contribution from lack of oxygen, but mostly because he had so much he had to say. He needed to get things done, but he didn't realize how serious the situation was. All he realized was that there was a job not getting done, and he had to finish it.
It was only a matter of minutes until the metal was pulled from Carter. He sat up in a rush as he inhaled the deepest shock of a breath he could manage. It scared him, for he had not been able to do that for about twenty minutes or so. He exhaled with a few hacking coughs.
"Everything's okay," Doug told him. "Just sit still."
Carter couldn't feel a thing thanks to a certain injected painkiller, but he knew that they were putting in stitches. After the fuss was over, he had one question.
"Uh, there's some blood coming off my head, is that bad?"
Peter rolled his eyes as he checked the back of Carter's head.
"Nothing serious, just a scrape. Not stitch-worthy if that's what you meant," He informed him.
"You are damn lucky," Doug said to him as he leaned against the wall behind the bed.
"Yea, it's a miracle that you're not in the OR," Peter added.
"Why?" Carter asked.
Mark explained. "Well, the metal that went in must have bent some how because when we pulled it out, the point was curled away from you. It was only pushing on your lungs, and there wasn't even a small hole there or a spec of internal bleeding. I don't know how it got bent after it went into you, but man were you lucky."
"How do you know it wasn't bent before it went in?" Carter asked.
"Because," Mark said, holding up a now clean piece of metal that was painted red like the Corvette, which must have shattered, Carter later thought, "There is no way that could have pierced anything, let alone skin." He was right, the point was curled under in a way that it never could have made such a deep gash.
Carter stared in amazement. It really was a freaky sort of miracle.
"So, I guess I'll never get a Corvette," he said, wide-eyed.
"So, how DID that happen, anyway? I want all the details," Paul asked.
"Yea," Doug, Peter, Jerry, and Mark said in unison as Jerry grabbed chairs for everyone to sit on as they listened.
Carter gave them every juicy detail, and before he knew it, he had an audience. Nurses, receptionists, every one that had been close had heard the story.
"Uh," Carter said after he told his story, "Can I have a minute alone with Paul? I've been trying to talk to him all day."
Everyone left with a moan, knowing that story time was over and it was time to go back to work.
"So Paul, I wanted to tell you. I saw Laura a few months ago. I think it was the middle of March or something. Anyway, she was in a bad accident. Were you aware of this?"
Paul looked at the ground and frowned at himself.
"Paul I know what happened, and I know you would never hurt her."
Paul began to tear. "I knew it, I knew someone would find out. It was just an accident, I didn't mean to hurt anyone, you're right. I don't want to go to jail or anything. I tried to pull her back up, but she jumped back and the way she jumped, I couldn't hold on to her. I mean, I tried to get her but this truck came, and I, I just, I went into a sort of shock or something. My heart sank and I, I couldn't move. I tried to move, but I couldn't! John, I feel so bad. I was so scared, I never even called her, I never got to say anything. I never even got to apologize!" He almost broke down until Carter spoke.
"Well you can apologize tonight," Carter told him.
"You mean, you mean, she's okay? I thought I killed her! I haven't been able to sleep since it happened. I never visited her because I thought she would get mad and I never called and she never called and I just didn't know what to do, but thank God she's okay!"
"I was hoping we could all get lunch and set things straight, but it doesn't look like I'm going to make lunch since, well, you know. But I'm starving! How about you and me go to the cafeteria and talk it over, huh?"
Paul could only nod with his mixed emotions.
"It's okay," Carter reassured him. "She's fine. She understands how you felt about it. Now calm down, and let's go get some lunch."
Paul got some air while Carter went to his locker and got his scrub shirt that was for just-in-case occasions. At the time, he never really knew what the case was going to be, but he put it there. Just in case. Afterwards, they went to the cafeteria and got the special of the day. Hoagies. Good for them, Carter thought, considering what was normally down there. Which is why he normally brought his schoolboy lunch. They then called Laura and set a time for dinner at the Eighth Street restaurant this time. After that, Paul got his Jeep for him. Then Carter went to work as though nothing had happened to him.
At dinner, they had talked about the days in high school. At the boulder in the park, they watched the sun set once again like they had used to. Paul started what they had gone out for as soon as the sun was all the way down.
"So," Paul started, "I didn't want to be too weird about this, but, uh, how are you, Laura?" he said almost formally as if they had only met via nametag.
"You mean our little, uh, accident?" she said, sounding annoyed.
He didn't know what to say.
"I never meant to hurt you," he said at the same time that she admitted,
"I know you never meant to hurt me."
They all sat for a while in silence. Not event the crickets chirped. Then, out of no where, Laura and Paul turned to each other and hugged. The movement startled Carter.
"I'm so sorry. Do you forgive me?" Paul pleaded.
"Yes, but only if you forgive me for never even telling you I was okay," she promised.
"Yea. I'd have to, I mean, this is all my fault. I could have killed you, Laura."
"But you didn't," Laura and Carter said at the same time.
There was a slight pause between the trio.
"Well I'd love to stay and chat, ladies, but I have to be at work early," Paul said.
"Okay. What do you do, anyway?" Carter asked. "What do both of you do?"
"I'm a designer at this computer company. I get ragged on a lot, but it pays."
They all laughed a little.
"I was working double shift at this fancy restaurant a few blocks away, but I'm training to be a psychiatrist."
Carter and Paul looked at each other.
"I wanted to surprise you," she admitted.
"Well you certainly did," Carter said. "I think you all know what I do."
"Yea," Paul said. "Demolition derbies with a side of street fighting with Mafia-men."
Carter had to laugh. "Yea," he said.
"Well," Paul said with a yawn, "I should get going. I'll talk to you later. Hopefully not much." He stood up.
"See ya," Carter and Laura said in unison.
"Yea, see ya," he said back. He then turned around and left. Once they had heard his Tahoe rev, they looked at each other.
"Man, I've missed him," Carter said.
"Me, too," Laura added.
It was then that they looked at each other. Their brown eyes were focused on each other. The whole park was silent again, as Carter involuntarily leaned toward Laura. He stopped himself, not quite knowing what he was doing. He had hoped he hadn't made a fool of himself, but Laura never noticed.
"It's nice to see an old friend," she said. "I'm tired, too. We should probably go."
"Yea. I think I'll stay a little while, though. But do you think you could come to my place? You know, tomorrow night," Carter suggested.
"Alright. Are you going to call Paul?" she asked.
"Uh, actually, I was hoping we could just, you know, watch some movies or something. You know, like we used to do. I know we did that with Paul, but that was after junior high, and I just want it to be you and me. Do you mind?"
"Nope, not at all. In fact, I'll bring the popcorn and stuff," she agreed. "I'll see you, around eight okay?"
"Sure," Carter said quietly.
"Okay. Bye, Carter," she said as she walked down the rocky hill from the boulder.
"Bye, Laura," he said after her.
He heard her car start, and he lay back on the boulder and looked up at the stars. He hadn't noticed until now that he had loved her for all these years and that just once, and maybe only once if that was all he could have, was one romantic night with her. He just wanted to know how it would be if he did. He didn't care about the future, whether they would be just friends or not, but he had to tell her how he felt. He remained on the rock until he could no longer see what was around him. In fact, he had almost fallen asleep. He pulled his keys out of his pocket, lit a small Maglite that he had put there (just in case), and walked to his Jeep. He let out a sigh, and drove away. Only in a matter of hours would he finally get his chance.