Dig

Luka waded through the morass of papers in his mailbox. A lot had happened on his week-end off. It was mostly junk. Memos, journal subscription notices, new journals, photocopies, more memos, a notice asking if he was happy and would he be happier with ginseng and, at last, a letter.

A letter.

He thought he recognized the handwriting. The letter itself was marked N.W.T. Who did he know in northern Canada? At any rate, someone knew him.

He opened the envelope.

Hey, Dr. K.,

I need you to do me a favour. A friend of mine is coming in for her nursing practicum. She's a really good kid, really bright. She assisted my current employer in a dig near Norman Wells, Canada. Anyway, she worked at the infirmary there. She knows her stuff.

Please, Dr. K. If there is anyone who sees the good in everyone, it's you. I'm not asking for miracles, I'm just asking that you give her a chance. Please.

Thanking you in advance,

Dr. Dave

Why had Malucci written to him? He found it curious that a resident he hardly knew would confide in him a trust- to speak up for this nameless nursing student.

Luka investigated the envelope further. Aside from the address, there was nothing else about the letter or envelope but a Polaroid photograph tucked into it. Written on the edge was a name and a date- Ceila Kowalski, arriving July 26. Two days from now.

Luka looked at the photograph. It wasn't the best photograph. There was too much sun glare. At any rate, a girl, pretty, perhaps no older than sixteen, stood behind fields of heather and rock. Her dark hair was tied back and she grinned. She wore a simple blouse and kept her arms behind her back.

Luka replaced the photograph. He would honour this promise even though he didn't know if it would pan out.