POCKET CHANGE 2: A GAME OF CARDS
by Sharon R.
Chapter Twelve
The most important of life's battles is the one we fight daily in the silent chambers of the soul. -David O. Mckay
"What?" Carter asked. "What is it?"
Before Luka could hide it from him, Carter reached over and pulled the paper back far enough so that he too could see the picture. The color drained from his face and matched the pallor of Luka's. Carter looked away and momentarily thought that the drugs were causing him to hallucinate. Maybe this was some sort of side effect of the Dopram. He couldn't be seeing this. Swallowing hard, he looked back at the newspaper almost expecting to see something totally different. But he didn't.
"What does it say?" he asked Luka, his stomach beginning to sour again.
"It's nothing." Luka folded the paper in half and started to get up not sure himself what he intended on doing. "Just a picture."
"Luka," Carter shifted and reached his good arm out towards the paper. "Please. Don't… just don't keep it to yourself."
Luka stepped back over to Carter's bedside, opened up the paper and reluctantly read the headline over the picture.
A NEW LEADER ON THE RISE
Luka stopped and glanced at Carter to see what his reaction was. Carter was sitting straight up away from the pillows, his eyes darting back and forth just slightly as he took in the news. "Don't stop," he spoke almost under his breath.
"You sure you want to hear this?"
"Just read it."
"After years of civil unrest and in-country brutality between warring factions, the Democratic Republic of Congo sees a new leader on the horizon." As Luka moved his hands down the side of the paper, the top half flopped over, the picture in question now right in front of Carter, upside down. He couldn't help look at it and even tilted his head a bit to right the image in his mind. As if he needed to. "Raised by missionaries after his parents were killed, Jules…," Luka halted as he said the name, and cleared his throat. "… Jules Akonda-Bouche came home to his people after obtaining a degree in Psychology from Cambridge University in England. Though his history of strong handed leadership is questionable to some outside of the country, the Congolese people are ready for someone to take the reigns and have apparently appointed one of their own." Having read enough, Luka folded the paper back up and threw it on the table. "This is bullshit."
"Questionable?" Carter groaned as he laid back in the bed, his back giving him a challenge. "They didn't appoint him. Maybe they bowed to him out of fear, but they didn't appoint him. Nobody appoints a terrorist to lead them."
"I know," Luka exasperatingly put out at the same time, a sense of defeat in his voice. Carter wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know.
They remained in silence, together, both deep in thought. Luka sat in the chair bent over, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at his clasped hands. Carter lay on his side rubbing his forehead trying to sooth the headache that had come on. They knew what each other was thinking. There was no need to speak the words aloud. They had made it this far without bringing up the fact that what they had left behind in the Congo was a man who embodied pure evil and that to gain their freedom they paid him off with nothing much better than a cashier's check from Bank One on North Wacker.
They had talked about it back in Chicago with each other. A few sentences here and there. An obligatory session with Psych when they were first admitted to County. But they hadn't counted on being neighbors with the guy who relished inflicting physical and emotional pain on his captives, and who now was being hailed as a hero by the people he manipulated and controlled, all while the rest of the world looked through dark colored glasses.
So the two sat there in their own little world oblivious to the sounds of the camp waking up around them. The clinic lights were all on now, the windows thrown open and the chatter of staff came and went outside Carter's curtained off area.
"Good morning!"
"Coffee is on, but don't blame me. I did not make it!"
"How many traumas today? Who wants to make a bet?"
"One, two three, four, five, six… We have six inpatients for rounds."
The voices were fresh, some accompanied by laughter. The day always started this way and slowly went down hill as the heat intensified and patience waned. Some talked right outside the curtains, other voices came and went like traffic on a busy street. But none of this registered with Carter and Luka as they lived inside their heads for the moment.
"I already took vitals. It's your turn to do labs."
"Good morning Paulette. Good morning Othiamba. We have supplies to put away."
"Slow down, the floor was just mopped. We can't afford to lose another worker."
"Who left the gloves and syringes out last night?"
"Were the packs done?"
"How's the patient today?"
"Hello. Hey." Maggie cleared her voice. "I said, how are you doing today?" It was obvious to her that she had intruded on something, although it was hard to tell what since Carter and Luka were stone cold silent and wrapped up in their own thoughts. She started to back out thinking that with the crisis over they were now ready to really hate her for what happened the previous day.
"Will you be okay?" Luka asked Carter as he stood. "I should get to work."
Carter nodded without moving much. Luka understood and walked out, barely registering Maggie's presence as he brushed by her.
"Carter," she took just a few steps forward trying not to barge too much into his space, "I'm really sorry about yesterday. I didn't know, and if I had then…"
"I need to get out of this bed and get back to work." Carter interrupted her.
"Not so fast. You haven't been cleared yet and," Maggie opened his chart to begin her morning exam, "you've a ways to go before you're at a hundred percent again." Carter had nothing to say to this making Maggie even more self conscious. "Okay, look, I understand how you might feel about … things, so I'll just have Kovac take care of you." She put his chart back on the table and turned to leave.
"Wait. Maggie." Carter groaned as he pushed himself back up to a sitting position with his one good arm. His struggle grabbed Maggie who stepped over and helped him with the last and most difficult part before getting vertical. "I don't blame you. I blame me." Carter sat on the edge of the bed, his feet dangling to the side, hesitant at first to get into the past. "A few years ago something happened…"
"You don't have to tell me."
"Yes," Carter put his hand out halting Maggie. He was on a roll. "Yes, I do. Do you remember Lucy Knight? A med student?"
Slowly it came back to Maggie. "Yeah. The over eager, goofy kid. Boy was she annoying."
Carter grinned briefly as he remembered Lucy's initial ineptitude, but quickly let the smile slide off his face.
"You two didn't…"
"No… well, with the exception of that one momentary lapse in judgment…"
"Uh-huh."
"… in the exam room…"
"What, you?" Maggie joked sarcastically, "boffed a med student?"
"No, no. I came to my senses. And Chuny banging on the door kind of helped." They laughed together, even though Carter's bruised larynx made him sound more like a wounded bird.
"Anyway, there was a psychotic patient, a very large knife, a dark room…"
Luka had slipped in and was standing behind Maggie.
"And he stabbed you?"
Carter nodded and held up two fingers.
"Twice? What were your injuries?"
Carter looked through Maggie at Luka who was waiting to relieve Carter.
"Initially we had to manage the massive blood loss," Maggie was unaware that Luka had been standing there and spun around, "but it was getting away from us. Up in the OR they found he had lacerated his left kidney, renal artery and large intestine. There were complications during surgery which led to more surgery down the road."
"I, ah, had to deal with a lot of pain in my back and legs," Carter snickered, "and inside my head. So I relied on pain meds - heavily. I used whatever I could get my hands on, eventually mainlining leftover Morphine, Demerol… Fentanyl - whatever was convenient."
The silence among the three of them was palpable, Luka finally stepping up. "Here, I brought you some clothes. Thought you might want to start moving around. But one more dose of steroids, okay?" Carter's IV had been discontinued earlier and the catheter left in with a hep lock. Luka flushed the port, then slowly injected the steroids.
"Jesus, that stuff burns," Carter moaned as he flexed his hand and grimaced in response.
"I know. I'm sorry." One more flush and Luka removed the catheter from his arm, then taped a small piece of gauze over the site.
Maggie couldn't help but notice the surgery scars on Carter's chest as Luka helped him get a t-shirt on before repositioning the immobilizer they had fashioned out of sheets and elastic bandages.
"So what does Lucy Knight have to do with this?" she finally asked.
"Sobriki - the guy - was Lucy's patient." Carter was glad that he had to stop talking long enough for Luka to help him with his pants. "He used the same knife on her before I came in the room."
"Lucy? Well, did she…?"
Luka shook his head terminating that particular line of questioning.
"And what's the deal with the Congo?"
Carter wasted no time leaving the clinic area, each step producing sharp stabbing pains in his lower back.
"Dr. Luka," Sera stepped in to clean up and prepare the bed for another patient, "that Mr. Tyson is whining for you. Something about the new supplies not matching the invoices."
"Okay, I'll speak to him tonight," Luka told her as he ditched the offending newspaper in the wastebasket.
"No, you talk to him now." Sera blocked his path out. "I do not want that skinny lizard marching through my clinic barking at my nurses." Luka wouldn't have been able to squeeze between her large body and the desk if he wanted to.
She had a point and Luka was not going to get much further without admitting defeat. "I will take care of that right now." Sera still barricaded his exit. "I promise. And you're beautiful when you're mad, you old girl."
"Yes I am," she spouted as she stepped aside. "There is a lot of beautiful in this body, but you are not getting any of it, Dr. Luka. No, no." Luka walked out and heard Sera continue on as she started working on the bed. "Now, Dr. Carter, he be a different story. Yes sir."
Maggie followed Luka out into the clinic, stopping first to take the newspaper out of the trash. She hadn't seen the news in a couple weeks and was tired of reading the inserts from the drug bottles for entertainment.
"Sometimes these things get backordered, Mr. Tyson," Maggie heard come from the office as she walked by on her way to get some much needed sleep.
"There is not one B/O on the invoice, Dr. Kovac. I'm not an amateur here, really."
Maggie slipped into her little room, shut the door behind her and crashed on her squeaky framed bed. Long night. Very long night. Carter had slept on and off and only very lightly at that. He wouldn't hear of Maggie babysitting him and shooed her off, but she didn't go far, propping herself up at Sera's desk most of the night sleeping even lighter than Carter, his grunts and groans prompting her to check on him frequently. At one point he had managed to turn on his right side exposing his scarred back. As she was changing out his IV she paused long enough to form an objective medical opinion about the long thin scars that ran diagonally over his skin. They were very different than the two wider shiny scars to the left of his spine. Now she knew how they got there, but the other ones were very different. She'd only seen those a few times on kids that had been abused with electrical cords. But these were somewhat fresh, not from childhood.
The paper had been opened on her lap and Maggie even thought she had read a paragraph or two, but her mind was playing exhausted tricks on her. She threw it on the pile of old magazines she'd picked up in Kampala on her way there. It would be added to the long list of intended reading.
That night at the Midway, the family table was quiet. No Colleen telling stories of her assignments, or Bob snickering in the background. When Toomay finished serving the meals she excused herself to the kitchen where she and the children were spending some private family time together. Carter was the last to arrive and slipped in hoping to go unnoticed. What he noticed, however, was the sudden silence that fell on the normally animated dining hall. His first mouthful of fumbwa had little taste to it as he carefully mulled it around his still tender mouth. The second wasn't much better and he quickly washed it down with a gulp of water. This was Toomay's fumbwa, not a better vegetable stew on the planet, but that night it tasted no better to Carter than paper. Luka was quiet. Either introspective after the morning's reading of the headlines or, as Carter suspected, he was missing Colleen.
Carter played with his food, pushing it around with his fork while looking at the staffers and college student volunteers who spoke uncharacteristically in hushed voices, their heads close together. What were they saying?
"So Othiamba," Carter rattled with his raspy voice hoping to keep his attention focused, "how come you're here in this hell hole instead of on the President's special detail?"
"I want to go to University in America," he replied somewhat bashfully. "I saved up my money, but I don't have a sponsor there or a university scholarship. So I thought that I would get to know you all, maybe gain some experience first."
"Hell, I'll sponsor you," Carter gave him with a grin. "You'd certainly be a welcome addition to most colleges back home. What do I have to do? Call an embassy? My congressman?"
"Thank you, Dr. Carter. But," Othiamba shifted in his chair and hurriedly gathered his dishes for the kitchen, "I have to change my plans. Maybe not now. I can go another time."
As he rose to take his dirty dishes to the kitchen, Luka grabbed his arm, stopping him.
"Othiamba, why can't you go to the states now?" Luka was fishing and he knew where the big one was. "Why the change?"
"I like it here. I will stay as long as you do," he said, evading the question with a forced smile.
"Othiamba, did you spend all of your money on the bus?"
His secret exposed, Othiamba rationalized his situation, though it really wasn't a lie. "It made me happy to do that for the camp. This is what I want, Dr. Luka. It's okay." Othiamba made his way out of the Midway with his pride intact, the doctors humbled.
The sound of a vehicle brought Luka to his feet as he made his way over to a window.
"All day you keep looking out at the gate," Sean gave him turning around. "It won't make her get back here any quicker."
"It's just Bob," Luka mumbled disappointedly as he shot a look at Sean.
Bob came in the Midway and put a 12-pack of beer on a chair before pouring himself a cup of coffee and taking his usual place at the table. "Good to see you up and around," he gave Carter with a pat on the back - one which sent a ripple of pain through him. In the past he had been the master of hiding pain and he was remembering well how to do it. It was something akin to getting back on the horse or the bike.
"What's with the long faces?"
Luka opened the box and took out a bottle, tossing the cap back in the box. Clank.
"Luka is waiting for his Guenevere to ride back into Camelot," Sean said in retaliation for the dirty look Luka had given him.
"Mm hmmm." Bob concentrated on his hot coffee. "She left on one of her 'assignments'?"
"Yes," Luka answered as he sat back down next to Bob, "early this morning. And she said she'd be back."
"Did she take all of her things with her?"
"Yes."
"Well then, Sir Lancelot, I wouldn't count on it. It's not her M-O."
That was cold. It was cold and unexpected as Luka exhaled and slouched in his chair.
Carter hadn't eaten much of his dinner and was relieved that Toomay wasn't there to scold him. As he walked past the staff tables to the kitchen pass-through with his dirty plate he couldn't help but notice the hushed chatter and darting eyes. He pretended not to see, played ignorant and smiled politely at the workers on his way back to the table while secretly feeling their eyes on him.
"Let me ask you something." He stood in back of the chair across from Luka and held on to it with his one free hand as he bent over slightly to keep things private. "Does everyone know?" he asked accusingly.
Luka looked around, careful not to draw attention to himself, but perplexed at Carter's sudden paranoia. "The staff? The students?"
"Well, yeah. Them." He pointed his finger in the direction of the other diners as though trying not to be seen. "I'm not stupid here, Luka."
Luka didn't know what to say. He had been dealing with clinic issues all day including Norman, and his mind was obviously elsewhere. He didn't know what the staff was thinking about. He shrugged his shoulders.
"They know about your past drug problem, yes," Sean chipped in matter-of-factly. "Word gets around and there were a lot of people in the clinic yesterday."
"Great. Just great." Carter slammed the chair into the table and charged out, brusquely grabbing a beer bottle from the box on the way. The moment wasn't lost on the people in the dining hall as the sound of the banging chair and crash of the screen door drew their attention to the camp administrator storming out in a rage.
Luka excused himself from the table. Sean quickly followed.
"I can handle this," Luka said to Sean, turning around to halt the man from tagging along.
"Absolutely. You are his friend and I understand that. But his outburst just became a camp issue and that's my business."
They found him sitting on an overturned barrel behind the Midway, his back propped on the tree in back of him, the beer resting on his right knee. He was staring down either at the ground or the beer bottle. Luka gave him a moment before stepping in front of him holding his hand up to Sean to give them some time alone.
"You okay?" Luka struck a relaxed pose as he stood against the tree opposite Carter, his hands in his pockets.
Carter didn't move - his eyes glued to the earth between his feet. "Relatively speaking."
"Want to talk about it?"
He shrugged his good shoulder.
"Feel sick?"
No answer.
"Are you still in a lot of pain?"
His head didn't move, but his eyes skewed up at the taller Luka. "Do you have any more stupid questions?"
"You going to drink that beer?"
"No," Carter stood and walked a circle around Luka and his tree, "because I can't - - - open it." With that he threw the bottle as hard as he could into the brush, shattering it against a rock, nearly throwing his already awkward body off balance in the process.
Luka remained calm while Sean quietly entered the picture, sitting down on the now vacated barrel, neither one of them wanting to be the next to open his mouth. The noise of the breaking glass brought a concerned Toomay to the doorway of the Midway kitchen.
"Perhaps you should talk to the staff," Sean spoke. "They look to you for direction."
Carter stopped pacing long enough to comb back his hair with his fingers. He was taken aback by his shaking hand and quickly shoved it in his pocket. "I don't think I'm in very good shape to be presented to them as their leader. Huh?" An acerbic chuckle escaped from him. "Would you trust me?" He was breathing heavily and making faces as he picked his pacing up where he left off. "I don't know what's wrong with me." He beat his fist into his thigh almost to make sure he was still coherent.
"Carter, I think this is just a temporary reaction to the sudden heavy exposure to the drugs."
"No," he put his finger in the air feigning clarity, "no, see I was fine this morning. And… and this afternoon. It was that damn newspaper. I was fine until… but that was this morning. He's what made…"
"Carter," Luka suddenly pushed himself away from the tree and stood very close to Carter, his mouth just in front of his ear. "Toomay is right over there. I don't think she knows about the paper." He gently, but forcefully, put his hand on Carter's shoulder. "Please, don't talk about it. Understand? Not here."
Carter glanced over at the Midway's back door and nodded. He thought about Joseph - the loving father, husband and friend - and how he went to such great lengths to get the Vancomycin to that little girl. How he played with the children and was so affectionate towards Toomay. And what he looked like face down in the jungle, hands swollen and tied behind his back, his head half gone. And the sinking feeling it gave him when they left his body to rot in the middle of nowhere. Seeing Toomay in the doorway reminded him of when they had to tell her about Joseph. Another reason to feel sick. Carter slunk to the ground, Luka careful not to let him tip over onto his shoulder.
"What is going on? Why do I feel like this? And those people in there are just looking at me and talking about me. They don't know me. "
Luka kneeled down in front of him. "Carter… John, think like a doctor. Just for now, huh? I don't know, this could be a reaction to the pain or just lack of sleep. But, sometimes drug addicts - ones who have been addicted to opiate-based narcotics - can experience withdrawal-like symptoms after a sudden single very heavy dose of opiates, even after years of sobriety. You know this. Right?" Carter nodded and wiped his clammy face with his hand. "You know the symptoms. Depression, irritability, restlessness, insomnia, cold flashes... paranoia."
"No kidding," Carter tried to joke. "I'm freezing in the middle of Africa in a draught."
"It won't last more than a day or two. You just have to get through this. You've done it before." Luka didn't miss the look of hopelessness on Carter's face. "And you won't be alone."
"Joseph, no," Toomay shouted. The boy ran out the door as Mbuto stayed somber at Toomay's side.
Joseph ran to both men and squatted down to look into Carter's eyes. "Dr. Luka, you said that you could fix him."
Carter was trembling - cold and embarrassed, in pain and in turmoil as the little boy slipped under Luka's arm and into the unstable man's lap.
"I'll be okay, Joseph. I just need to get some sleep." Carter pulled him into his chest comforting himself as much as the child. The harder he held him, the less he felt his tremors. "Now, you go get another game of football in before bedtime and I promise you in a couple days I'll be as good as new. That tree just got the best of me."
Toomay reached down to lift Joseph up out of Carter's lap. "I'm sorry, John."
"It's fine. Don't worry."
Mother and son were headed back to the Midway leaving a very quiet and studious Mbuto standing next to Carter who had pulled his knees up to his chest, his head sunk between them. He'd curled up into a ball trying to get warm, trying to squeeze the odd uncomfortable feelings from him. The boy's hand on his head prompted Carter to look up, and for the first time that day he felt just a small bit of solace - ever so brief. It felt almost as if a little bit of heat radiated from Mbuto's hand and a wave of calm washed over Carter's face.
From his pocket Mbuto took out a large gold colored play coin. He looked at it, smoothed his fingers over the well worn words on it and, taking Luka's hand and opening the fingers, placed it in his palm. The boy who had so little to say, closed Luka's fingers around the coin and held his large fist in his two little dark hands.
"My papa, he give me this good luck." His English was very rough, but he was determined to finish what he was saying as his big brown eyes connected deeply with Luka's. "He say I give it to person who does good and needs it more than me. You can fix Dr. Carter now. Yes?"
Luka held the coin tightly and looked into the well meaning child's eyes. Should he take it? Probably the only toy he owned that he had secretly brought with him all the way from that jungle on the side of the mountain where he had been placed in the hands of the two freed doctors by his rebel father? Almost instinctively, Mbuto tightened his grip on Luka's fist.
Luka took his free hand and laid it on Mbuto's cheek before kissing his forehead, then rose to his feet. "I will take good care of it and save it for someone with as much goodness in their heart as you."
It was a simple act that touched Carter and gave him motivation to get back on his own feet and move on. A deep breath and Luka anchoring him at his elbow, and Carter made it back up albeit with his head spinning. There leaning against the front corner of the building looking on was Todd. He had seen it all and waited for Mbuto to reach him, then took his hand and walked the boy to the soccer field. Before turning the corner, Todd looked back over his shoulder, quickly, but just enough to catch one last look back at the doctors.
It was quick, but Carter didn't miss it. "Was that pity or disgust on his face?"
"How do you know it wasn't just concern?"
Within a couple weeks, Carter was feeling better but was less animated and much quieter. He even took some of his meals in the clinic office, with Norman no less. The camp was back on course and things had quieted a bit. Even Bob commented on the lack of chatter and disruptions among the insurgents in the northern sector. There hadn't been any new refugees in a few days and those that camped out on the eastern airfields had even begun talking about going home, though Sean discouraged any immediate plans.
Luka had gotten a handle on the supply situation and the inventory was going smoothly since the debacle with the delivery. Norman took a few days away in Kampala to catch up with the Foundation by phone. And the weather was less severe with a couple nights of calm rain to cool things down.
Sean had two new doctors rotate in from other Alliance camps to give Maggie, Luka and Carter some time off. From time to time he would convince these worn out volunteers to "vacation" at the PCRC and to them it was a vacation considering the clinics they had come from. Some had "done time" at a Ugandan prison strife with Hemorrhagic fever, AIDS and TB. Others came from deep inside the jungles of the Congo and the deserts of Sudan where their clinics were with even fewer supplies and staff than the one in Ikela.
Carter took advantage of the quieter atmosphere in the region and left with the Land Rover almost daily. Sometimes he'd be gone for just an hour, picking up test results at the hospital or transporting patients. Other times he'd be gone all day. When he drove back into camp after dinner he didn't stop in at the Midway to see if there was something to eat. Instead he headed right into the office.
"Been spending a lot of time out of camp," Luka mentioned to a surprised Carter who didn't see him sitting on the window ledge behind the door.
"It's something to do. Haven't been much use around here." Carter sat on the desk and mindlessly played with Norman's pencils which had been left in a neat row.
"Seeing patients in Gulu?"
"I'm keeping busy." There was a comfortable tension in the air.
"You going to the Art exhibit tomorrow?"
"What?"
"The staff is having an 'art exhibit' after dinner. There's an invitation on the board in the Midway."
"Oh. I guess I haven't been there much lately."
"I know. The volunteers will be making pieces of art from whatever they can find. Dress is 'formal' and original hats are encouraged. It should be fun."
The bright orange of the setting sun put the room aglow. Carter squinted through it as he shifted his seat to avoid being blinded. "How come you haven't taken advantage of the rotating docs Sean got? You could have taken off to Kampala for a few days."
Luka shrugged his shoulders and continued staring out the window. A group of refugee women walked underneath it and giggled as they waved at the Croatian doctor.
"You've got it bad, huh?"
"What?"
"Sean's right. She won't walk through that gate any quicker with you always staring at it."
Luka smiled and dipped his head. "It's that obvious? You heard Bob. She took all her things with her. She probably won't be back. She's got her job and…"
"And maybe you're letting what Bob said get to you." Carter stood and opened a drawer. "Besides. She didn't take everything with her. She left this here." Carter tossed a CD to Luka before leaving the office and going to his room.
Luka remembered it being in Colleen's backpack. It was one of only three CDs that she carried with her. Blues and jazz. Luka walked over to the desk and inserted the disc into the player then went back to the window ledge. He sat there sideways, his leg propped up on the ledge, his arm and chin on his knee.
(Lyrics to a few lines of Lost Mind sung by Diana Krall and written by Percy Mayfield James previously properly attributed, deleted as per new regulations by site administrators 5/3/05. The complete original text of Pocket Change can be found at LUKAFIC)
Luka smiled as he listened to the sultry song as he dragged his thumb over his lip remembering the feel of her kiss, of her silky skin and golden red curls. A deep breath and his eyes were closed lost in another world of Colleen and how she smelled, talked, laughed, loved.
(Lyrics deleted)