Disclaimer: The characters are Rowling's. The plot and Zack are mine. No money is being made.
"Good morning, gorgeous. You wanna have some fun?" Carrie teased, wearing just a T-shirt and stroking his chest with her right hand.
"What time is it?" Zack said absentmindedly, stretching.
"7:30," she said, nuzzling his neck.
"That's nice…Oh, SHIT! 7:30! I've got a surgery at 9:00 am! Sorry, I gotta go," Zack exclaimed, getting up and gathering his clothes.
She frowned at him. "That's too bad. Last night was incredible and I was hoping for some more." She licked her lips suggestively.
"That is not fair," he said, clearly tempted. He finished dressing and then reached into his wallet and gave her his card. "Write down your number for me and we can get together again." He kissed her on the cheek and started toward the door. Then he decided to give her a card to keep - she was damn sexy, after all.
"You know that I'll call you," she said, looking like very much the part of a temptress. "That was the best sex I've ever had," she added honestly.
I better be careful with this one. "Last night was great," he admitted. "Call me in a couple of days - I think I need time to recover," Zack added with a wink. She laughed and walked him out.
"Bye Zack," said a female voice from the kitchen. Zack stopped and waited for a moment. A longhaired red head came around the corner in her pajamas.
"Bye to you too, Fiona…nice pj's," Zack added fetchingly.
"There will be none of that Fiona," Carrie said possessively and steered Zack towards the door. She gave him a nice kiss and Zack raced towards his bike.
"Seven fucking forty-five!" Zack exclaimed, climbing onto his bike.
"Bye lover," said a deep voice…it was Barney from the upstairs window. Apparently Zack wasn't the only one to find some companionship last night.
"Bye yourself," Zack answered with a quick wave and started the bike.
He made it home in less than 10 minutes, hopefully evading any traffic cameras. He ran into his flat.
"MRRROOOWWWW, MRROOOWWW, MMRROOWW!" Russell was not happy.
"Sorry Russell, I got caught up." Zack quickly opened up a can of tuna and gave her the whole thing.
"Mrow," she added dismissively and started to chow down.
Zack filled the water bowl, spilling some on the floor, and then drank several glasses of water and hit the shower. He finished just as the clock turned to 8:13. He dried off, while brushing his teeth and started to look for some clean scrubs. Unable to find any clean ones, he proceeded to look through the used ones. With a quick sniff of approval, he put on a set and headed for the door. He spied the cat, picked her up and gave her a good scratching until she started purring and then set her down. She shook her body vigorously and headed back to the remains of the tuna.
"I want to be the cat in the next life," he said, heading out the door. He arrived at the hospital with 15 minutes to spare. He grabbed his "usual" breakfast and headed to the operating room.
After he finished scrubbing up he looked at the clock. Five minutes late, not too bad. However, the team didn't look very happy. He chose to ignore it and proceeded straight to the patient. In one way he was glad it was "just" a cleft palate—he had performed dozens of these over the last three years and was sure of his skills. Still, the patient was only a year old. Zack was grateful the surgery went without incident and afterwards he went to find an empty room to take a nap before his next surgery at 1 pm.
"Dr. Flood…Dr. Flood…wake up," he seemed to hear a gentle voice from a great distance.
"Dr. Flood, your Mum's on the telephone." This time a significant nudge accompanied the voice and he awoke.
"Thanks, Ingrid. What time is it?" Zack asked yawning.
"11:30 and she's on line 3," she said pointing toward the phone on the table and then leaving.
"Hi, Mom. What's up?" Zack said, groggy.
"I hope you weren't just operating in that condition?" she said with some concern.
"No, just catching a nap before my next surgery. What's going on?"
"Small change of plans -- the birthday party is at our house. My sister burned the cake so badly the whole house needs to be fumigated. She was never much in the kitchen," his mother complained.
"Still at 6:00 pm then?" Zack asked, shaking his head
"Yes, but if you could make it before 6 pm it would be nice to have a little help setting up," his mother said authoritatively.
"I'll see what I can do. If the surgery goes well, I should be able to make it." Zack stated stifling a yawn. "I have to go Mom. I'll see you in a bit."
"Okay, bye. Good luck dear." He crawled back on the examination table to sleep.
A group of three hooded figures crouched around a glowing item that Zack couldn't get close enough to see without being seen himself. He felt nervous even being this close -- the figures all wore armor and carried swords. Each of the figures had some type of crest on their coat of arms, but he couldn't quite make it out. The tree he was hiding behind suddenly fell over and he was exposed.
"Infidel!" cried one of the knights, charging toward him.
Zack started to run but caught his foot on a root, causing him to fall. The knight was on him before he could get up, grabbing Zack by his hair and turning him around.
"What are thee…my God, it's you…forgive me!" The knight pleaded and bent down on a knee. Zack dumbfounded, noticed that the crest was that of a rose…
"ZACK! Wake up!" a deep male voice boomed. Zack arose with a start, momentarily confused and saw his head of surgery standing in front of him.
"Doctor Palmer! I'm sorry I was just getting a quick nap, sir."
"I could see that Dr. Flood. It took a good deal to rouse you. But no matter, I've assigned Jenkins to take your cleft lip this afternoon."
Zack could see the concern on Doctor Palmer's face. Doctor Palmer was a paunchy, tall man in his fifties with thinning grey hair, who normally had a warm smile on his face and well-used laugh-lines around his eyes. But now his faced showed worry.
Zack started to protest. "But sir…"
"I want you to go home and sleep…I mean it. You are an excellent surgeon, one of the finest I've ever seen, but you are driving yourself too hard," Dr. Palmer said, putting a hand gently on Zack's shoulder. "Now go home and rest."
"Thanks, I know I need it, but I feel useless unless I'm operating," Zack said.
"I know what you mean, son. I felt that way when I was a young surgeon too. But we are all too human and mistakes can happen no matter how gifted we are."
"You are right, of course," Zack said, defeated. "I'll head straight home."
"Eat something first. I bet you haven't had a nutritious meal in days," Dr. Palmer added, looking him over. "You look terrible."
"I had chicken fried steak last night at my parents," Zack objected.
"I'll ignore that. Get a healthy meal on your way home and then sleep. Those are your marching orders," Dr. Palmer said in his imitation British Army Officer voice. Dr. Palmer loved The Bridge on the River Kwai, Zack recalled.
"Yes, sir," Zack saluted. He smiled wanly and headed home. He stopped by a sandwich shop and picked up a tuna fish sandwich and large vegetable soup to take home. Russell greeted him at the door as always and twined in between his ankles.
"I'd say I'm glad to see you too, but I know it's the tuna fish you are after," Zack said with a raised eyebrow.
"Mrrroowww," Russell mewed and sat looking expectantly at Zack.
"You know when you do that I have to scritch you," Zack said playfully and picked up the cat, scratching her all over, starting with the top of her head. All the while Russell purred loudly.
Zack sat and ate his lunch in a daze, remembering the weird dream he had in the exam room. It felt so real, but where the hell did it come from? He went into his bedroom and set the alarm for 4:30 pm. He practically passed out before his head hit the pillow.
He woke up feeling better, turned on his CD player and cranked up Kansas Leftoverture before getting ready for the party, even using a hair dryer to dry his hair. Will miracles never cease? He was surprised to find that he felt good for the first time in a while. Amazing what some decent sleep will do. He dressed in his favorite black jeans and wore an Oxford red short sleeve pullover. He grabbed his motorcycle helmet, wiping a little dust off of it with a hint of guilt and headed out the door.
The drive to his parents was a little busier than yesterday; still, he was making good time. Mom will be shocked at my punctuality, he thought with a grin. He looked forward to seeing his Aunt Felecia, Uncle Larry, three-year-old little Larry, and, of course, the birthday girl herself, Elizabeth Erina Tilden. This birthday, her 11th, and this party had been a main topic of conversation for the last several months. He didn't know why an 11th birthday was so special, but the party promised to be fun. Whenever his Aunt and Uncle were involved, "fun" things tended to happen.
As long as Zack could remember the Tildens have always been "different." His parents explained to him they were just eccentrics and it would be rude to say anything. Zack initially wrote if off as some kind of "British thing." Bottom-line, he didn't care that they were odd. Odd meant interesting. Anyway, he always had fun hanging out with the Tilden's, especially when they came visiting his parent's house. His uncle acted like a little child visiting an amusement park for the first time. Every time the phone rang, he stared in anticipation. The microwave oven was a wonder. And the television was too fascinating for words; they would watch it for hours at a time, whether it was on or off.
Zack remembered when he was little coming to England to visit his father's parents -- that was when he met Aunt Felecia and Uncle Larry for the first time. They wore robes the entire time Zack and his family were at their house. When Zack asked his parents about it, they told him to be nice and not say anything. He remembered many odd occurrences at their house, but wrote it off as childish fantasies. It's too bad my photographic memory seems to extend only to pictures and the written word, he thought ruefully.
Zack's mind drifted to the first time he met Bethie, only three at the time but already talking like an adult. He was immediately struck by her vivid imagination and sweet personality. He recalled a time when she was seven-years-old, telling him a story about a child wizard named Henry Porter, or something like that, who survived a terrible curse when he was only a baby, but losing both his parents in the process. The bad wizard didn't die, however, returning years later to try and kill Henry again and take over the world, but Henry was once again able to stop him. He shook his head and smiled, what an amazing story for a seven-year old to invent. She ought to write it down, he thought, it could be a best-selling children's book.
When medical school was not in session or on holiday, he would sometimes come over and spend time at the Tilden's. One time in particular stood out in his memory. Zack had taken Bethie to the park to play on the jungle gym. She loved to sit in the fort and act like she was hiding from some dark wizard. He wasn't paying attention, chatting to a single mother he recalled, and she climbed out the fort window and tried to leap to the slide, losing her footing and falling hard to the ground. He ran over and gently picked her up, carrying her three blocks home, hoping the entire way she was okay and feeling guilty for his inattention. Aunt Felecia and Uncle Larry met him about a block away from the house – it was like they knew what had happened.
"We need to get her to a hospital. It's a broken arm, I think" Zack panted.
"Thanks for bringing her back so quickly, Zack. I'll take care of her now," his aunt said while his uncle gently took her out of his arms.
But they didn't take her to the hospital. Once they got in the house, they took her into her room and closed the door. He wondered what they possibly could be doing. He headed up the steps, hearing them mutter some foreign words when the sobbing suddenly stopped. His aunt and uncle met Zack on the steps and suggested he go home, that Bethie was fine and the arm wasn't broken. Even though he was certain her arm was broken, the next time he saw her a few days later Bethie's arm was fine with no hint of pain. I guess she's tougher than she looks.
But his train of thought dissolved as he pulled in front of the house, and he decided to continue on a bit until he was in front of the next house. He smiled mischievously and walked across the yard to the driveway. Balloons had been tied into an "11" under the big oak tree in the front yard, and a large number of people were milling about. Obviously, they were friends of his aunt's, considering their strange clothes. Some hippies never grow out of it, he thought. He walked over to the food. Tables were laden with lots of different goodies, including a bowl of funny jellybeans, and a bunch of blue and gold boxes marked "chocolate frogs." He had to try one of those, he thought, reaching for one.
"ZACK," his mother called, walking over to him. "Put that back. Those are for the kids," she admonished him. "I need you to help your father set up the grill -- you know how he is with fire," she added with a roll of her eyes.
"All right, no problem," he agreed, walking toward the door to the back gate.
"ZACK! YOU'RE HERE!!" he heard an excited young voice call.
"Hey, Bethie, I wouldn't miss this for the world, you know that."
"What did you get me?" she asked, hopping up and down a little.
"Nice to see you too," he admonished gently.
"Yeah, yeah…well?"
Zack laughed and picked her up and spun her around.
Bethie laughed a little and then said, "Please put me down. There are people everywhere. Besides I'm not a kid anymore," she added as he gently complied with her request.
"Not a kid anymore, huh? Eleven is all grown up, is it?" he chided.
"That's right. I get to go to Hogwarts this year," she said excitedly, then looked like she said something wrong.
"What's Hogwarts?" he asked curiously.
"It's a…a…special house, my friends live there," she lied unconvincingly.
"Zack, would you please go help your father before he burns down the house?" his mother said, walking over toward them.
"Okay, Mom. See you later, Bethie."
"Call me Elizabeth now, okay?" she said shyly but definitively.
"As you wish." He smiled and winked at her. Boy she was all grown up, he thought, shaking his head and walking around the house.
"Hogwarts," he mumbled aloud as he reached the back patio, "what could that be?"
"What's that Zack?" his father said, trying to open a new can of lighter fluid.
"Oh, nothing. Why are you opening a new can of lighter fluid, doesn't the other one have plenty left?" Zack asked with concern.
"Remember the last time I grilled outside and the charcoal took forever to light? Well, not this year," his father added ominously.
"Dad, I demand you cease and desist…by order of Mom!" he said forcefully, but sarcastically, as he walked up to him. "I will handle the grill, if you don't mind. Besides you are one of the hosts so go mingle."
"You never let me have any fun," his father whined and took off his apron.
"Dad, you might want to change your shirt and wash up a bit -- you smell like a petrol station," Zack waving his hand in front of his face.
"Fine. Let me know if you need any help."
"Hello there," called a strange male voice coming around the side of the house, "may I watch you? This is so fascinating." The voice belonged to a tall, 50-something, balding, red-haired man dressed in green robes who seemed to be brimming with curiosity.
"Sure… Who are you? I'm Zack Flood, by the way, the ne'er-do-well son of the owners of this fine abode," Zack finished with a flourish.
"I'm so sorry. My name is Arthur Weasley. I work with your Uncle Larry, and he invited my wife and me over for the big day." He looked closely at the charcoal grill. "How does this work exactly?" Zack explained the basic function of a gas grill. "So it actually cooks meat without wood for the fire? Ingenious, these Muggles."
"Muggles? I…" Zack stopped as heard someone coming around the house.
"ARTHUR!" He heard a penetrating female voice call from around the side of the house. "Where have you gone off to?" A short, ball of energy, with graying-red hair came marching around the corner of the house. "Oh, there you are. I should have known," she said stopping and putting her hands on her hips. "Who needs kids when I have you to keep track of?" she added somewhat exasperated, but clearly with great affection.
"Molly, you have to see this. He is about to cook meat without wood!" He was acting like a giddy child.
She shook her head and approached Zack. "Hello, my name is Molly Weasley. I have to apologize for my husband. He is forever getting his nose where it doesn't belong. Are you Zack?" she asked, smiling.
Zack nodded, "Uh, yes I am. It's a pleasure to meet you…both of you." Zack finished distractedly, as he watched Mr. Weasley stare in rapt fascination at the water sprinkler in the back yard.
"It's nice to meet you finally. We have heard so much from your aunt. You are a doctor I believe…ARTHUR! Leave that alone," she admonished.
"Well, yes, I'm a surgeon. I …does he always act that way around lawn sprinklers?" Zack finished in disbelief as Mr. Weasley smelled and tasted the sprinkler.
"Arthur, put that down now. We need to get back to the party," she said tiredly, tugging on her husband's sleeve.
"But, Molly, this has WATER in it, and it spins around!" he protested.
Zack stood dumbfounded as Mrs. Weasley led a protesting Mr. Weasley around to the front of the house.
"Goodbye, dear, it was nice meeting you. I'm sure we'll see you in a bit," Molly said while pushing Mr. Weasley away.
"Yes, it was nice to meet you," Arthur added, finally giving in and walking away.
Zack shook his head and then proceeded to fire up the grill and cook the bangers, chicken, and pork chops. The party went well except for a few instances of levitating children. Certainly, some kind of trick, Zack thought. Everyone had a great time and there was plenty of food for all. There were odd fireworks as well that exploded into the shape of different kinds of animals. He had never heard of these before and thought it must be a trick of the eye. A group of people gathered around Mr. Weasley, who kept pointing at Zack and toward the back of the house. The people were very excited and stared at Zack dubiously. He had no idea what was going on and didn't really want to know.
"Zack, I have been very patient waiting for my present," Elizabeth pouted as she approached him. "I've opened everyone else's."
"Wait right here," Zack said pointing to where he was sitting. He then went to his bike and retrieved the bicycle helmet and his helmet as well. "Here you are," he said, presenting her the unwrapped box.
"Oh, thank you," she said clearly disappointed.
Zack waited a moment and then whispered, "How would like a ride on my motorcycle?"
It had the desired effect. "You mean it?" she asked, barely able to contain herself.
"I tried to buy you your own helmet, but they didn't have your size, that's why I got the bicycle helmet."
"Should I just wear the bike helmet then?" she asked excitedly.
"No, it's not safe enough. I brought my helmet for you. I know it's a little big but just strap it on tight." He said, showing her how to tighten it. "I'll take the helmet. You sneak around to the street. I'll meet you beside one of the cars so they can't see us."
"Ooohhh, this is the best present ever," she said collecting herself and looking around for a likely escape route.
Zack meandered his way to his bike, checking to make sure his aunt and uncle and his parents didn't see him. The number of people present made it easier to sneak away.
"Hi, where have you been?" a voice said behind him.
"Shit!" Zack exclaimed and then turned nervously to see it was Bethie…Elizabeth. "DON'T DO THAT!" he said, jumpy. "How did you get here so fast?"
She laughed and grabbed the helmet. "Don't worry, let's go, let's go," she directed cinching the too-big helmet.
"All right then. Hold on tight," he instructed, and pulled the bike slowly away from the curb with a smile on his face.
It was a beautiful day for a ride, sunny, warm, with just a hint of a breeze. The roads were pretty clear of traffic so he was able to maneuver without too much trouble. He approached a red stoplight and turned to check on his passenger.
"Well, what do you think, Elizabeth?" Zack asked.
"It's wonderful," she yelled through the helmet, "but can I take off the helmet? It's hot," she complained.
"Not a chance, this is your first time. PLUS your parents don't even know we are out here," Zack said cautiously.
"Oh, they know we're out here. I told them before we left," she said matter of factly, "but I didn't want to ruin it for you. You seemed to enjoy sneaking about," she added a bit sheepishly.
Zack laughed, "You are a real piece of work, you know that? Did you and your parents enjoy my feeble attempts at subterfuge?" he added genially.
"Yes," she admitted and squeezed him a little tighter.
A car horn honked and he accelerated through the light. He decided to take Park Road and go around the roundabout at the A404 and then back home. He didn't think she was ready for the A404 just yet. Park Road was agreeably devoid of traffic so he was able to accelerate to a decent speed. As he approached the roundabout he thought he heard a squeal of tires up ahead and slowed down, just in case. He saw a green VW Bug speeding on Rectory Road and forcing its way onto to the roundabout, almost hitting a BMW that was merging from Park. Probably hormonally challenged teenagers, he thought, watching them speed away. He thought the roundabout would be fun because he could teach her to lean into the curve.
He pulled to the side of the road and turned to her. "When we start going around the roundabout, I want you lean into the curve, like this," Zack showed her. She mimicked him as best she could. "That's very good," he said. "Don't be scared. This will be fun," he promised.
He checked the road and pulled out onto Park. The roundabout looked clear and he started to turn into it.
"Lean a little more, Elizabeth," he shouted so she could hear, and she complied. One of the best bits about riding a motorcycle was leaning into curves when you really could feel the g-forces.
As he approached the merge section from the A404, he felt, more than heard, the roar of a car engine. He saw a green blur to his left and tried to avoid it, but it was going too fast. The car hit the side of the bike, forcing Zack into the barriers that marked the inside of the loop. The bike hit the barrier with a sick crunching metal sound. He flew off of the bike and rolled onto the pavement on the other side. He was able to protect his head using his arms and tucking his head, instantly grateful for his early Judo classes that taught him how to fall and protect your head. He heard and felt his right arm break when it hit the pavement. He rolled onto the grass and lay there for a moment stunned. Then he remembered he wasn't alone this time.
"ELIZABETH!" he shouted in a panicked tone. He sat up slowly, ignoring the terrible pain in his arms, legs, ribs, and the blood coming from his head. Some people had stopped and were coming toward him.
"DON'T MOVE!" someone shouted, but he ignored them. He had to find Bethie.
He somehow was able to rise to his feet with the help of a middle-aged man. "You really should lie still until the ambulance gets here. You are badly hurt and bleeding," the man advised, looking very worried.
"I know, I'm a doctor…but I have to find…" As he was talking he looked around and spied her crumpled form on the grass, the helmet lying useless, a good 10 meters from her. Tears filled Zack's eyes and he begged the man to help him over to her. He saw her legs and arms were scraped badly and bleeding, but it was her blood-matted hair that concerned him the most. I am such a fool, such an utter fool to risk this precious girl's life for a momentary thrill. He knelt painfully down beside her and felt for a pulse on her bloody neck. His heart leapt as he felt a weak but definite pulse.
"She's still alive," he croaked weakly, "but she needs an ambulance immediately." He brushed her hair away from her face and noticed that she was bleeding from the side of her head. His heart was in his throat as he carefully parted her hair with his shaky left hand…her skull was fractured, not crushed, but badly fractured. With cold certainty he knew she would be dead before the ambulance reached her. He started to cry, but stopped himself almost immediately.
"She's alive. I…I…have to do something," he muttered with urgency searching for…for what? What could he possibly do? But he had to do something. The crowd of onlookers watched as Zack gently brushed her hair away from her face and then proceeded to rock back and forth, staring at the young girl.
He felt his anger, guilt, and frustration like they were knives cutting his skin. He knew he could heal her wounds if he were in a hospital, he knew EXACTLY what he needed to do to repair the fracture. He literally could see the text in his head; he could picture the procedure movement for movement, and in his panic he turned completely into himself. He had heard of dying people being able to see themselves hovering over their own bodies. That is how he felt as he went over the procedure in his mind over and over again, fine-tuning it. He could picture his whole team and what each of them would be doing during each stage of the operation. His urgency kept growing as he watched her fading away, still he replayed the operation over and over until, suddenly, his mind started to tremble and he felt something give way with a shriek. Still staring at her limp form he thought he saw the blood stop flowing, the wound on her head disappear, the hair matted with blood become clean and…and her eyes open. Imagination was a wonderful thing, he thought, and then lost consciousness and knew no more…
Special thanks goes out to Crow, Juliane, and Lillith for their beta skills. Thanks, ladies.