Out of The Dead Land
I would cut the waist of
The long November night,
And roll one half
And keep it under my coverlet
Of the spring breeze.
And when my love returns to me
I would unroll it inch by inch.
February was unusually balmy. Global warming some said.
Luka did not mind. He kept the window of his bedroom open and enjoyed the cool air on his bare skin. He had the night off, a welcome change from the purgatorial shifts he had been working since November. Since the beginning of the month, it seemed he was barely at the hospital. He saw more of his neighbours and friends in Little Zagreb than he did of his co-workers. That included Ceila.
Ceila.
He barely saw her at all. He remembered her walking with Malucci arm-in-arm in January. The memory pained him. He was growing closer to her, oblivious of the letter Malucci had sent and of the world around him. But when he saw them together, Luka moved away. Ceila was something out of his reach. Something he could never have. He felt a feeling that had been all too familiar in recent years. The torture of want somehow made the pain liveable.
He remembered in August when Ceila was working her first shifts in the ER. They sat alone in the lounge. He taught her only how to say body parts and to count to three in Croatian. It kept her speech to a minimum. He went over journals as she did her assignments. She tore off pieces of paper and wrote questions.
How do you say: "I know" in Croatian?
He wrote: Znam
She wrote back: How do you say: "I love you"?
He looked at the note and then shot a quick look at her. Gulping only once, he wrote her the reply and gave it back to her.
Volim te.
Volim te.
He remembered how she looked when she took the note. Her pale blue eyes had that eerie sheen. She hugged the note to her body and left the lounge, as if she were terrified by the gravity of the question and response.
Everything that followed after- the gift of the poetry book, their suspension and the time they spent together, Christmas, when she fell into his arms and the blood on her skin.... Luka bit his lip. It had been some kind of flirtation. Nothing more. It was best, he deemed, to forget.
**
Ceila shut her eyes and hoped sleep wouldn't overtake her. She kept the window of her bedroom open to enjoy the cool air (being a child of the Arctic, she did not mind the temperature). She was moving around again- pediatrics, orthopedics, surgery. And the classes. She was busier than ever. She could no longer work part time at her filing job. Her studies had to take precedence over any minimum wage job. She would pull through somehow. All she wanted to do now was to think and rest. She thought of only one man.
Luka, she thought, had been avoiding her as of late. It wasn't simply her moving from ward to ward. He barely looked at her. How did she offend him? How could she make it up to him?
He occupied her thoughts a lot. He was there when she shut her eyes or when her thoughts drifted from more serious matters. Now, she thought about how to see him again. He was there from the beginning when no one had an ounce of faith in her. He did. She needed that faith again.
Ceila remembered in late July when he needed her skills. She looked up to him. Literally. He was tall with a slight slouch about his shoulders. His dark hair was short but for a moment she imagined it longer. Dark wisps falling about his high cheekbones. She watched his lips as they moved in speech and heard only the deep cadences of his voice.
"Do you understand, nurse?"
She smiled slightly and nodded.
"Yes."
Ceila now opened her eyes. It wasn't her being smitten. She recognized in him something she thirsted for- a presence and a power that no one could deny. Someone who could understand. She wanted it back.
**
Ceila was back in the ER. She was a born stress junkie the nurse manager professed. The ER staff was actually happy to see her again, even Susan and Carter. Luka kept his remove of her, though. Even in the close proximity of the elevator.
Her black hair was pulled back in that unbecoming bun. A French roll, a plait, anything.
Luka scolded himself for his thoughts. He was not interested in her. A student nurse. Another man's woman.
Ceila offered Luka a polite smile.
"It's good to be back, Dr. Luka."
Luka nodded a little.
"Are you going to the third floor?" he asked.
Ceila shook her head, her eyes with that eerie sheen.
"No. The eighth," she replied.
Silence.
Ceila turned to him and tried to engage him in some friendly conversation.
"It's too warm for February," she noted. "It's so warm I can keep my bedroom window open."
Strange, Luka thought. He could do the same but would not say as much.
Ceila waited for an answer.
"Dr. Kovac?"
Luka now turned his head to her.
"Sorry. I didn't hear you," he lied.
A frown touched her lips.
"Are you angry with me?"
Luka turned his head to her again. He couldn't let her feel that way.
"No. I...."
Ceila still frowned.
"You must be," she supposed. "Whenever I talk and you don't listen, I think that you don't care about what I'm saying. I know I'm not like your other friends but I like talking to you..."
"It's not that," Luka said.
Ceila was confused.
"Then what? Ever since January, you've been avoiding me..."
Luka's eyes, with a sense of guilt in them, were fixed on Ceila.
She exhaled. She then laughed a nervous laugh that put Luka off.
"You saw Malucci and me together and you're jealous!"
The red of lividity rose in Luka's face.
"I am not! I couldn't care less what you do in your spare time!"
Ceila only laughed with a little more confidence with having figured out the source of estrangement.
"You're jealous of Malucci and me?!"
Luka squared his jaw and turned from Ceila.
Ceila faced Luka.
"Malucci is my friend," she stated. "Nothing more, nothing less."
"You don't have to justify your relationship with him to me," Luka said.
Ceila tried to look into his eyes.
"There's nothing to justify. He is only my friend. I don't want him."
Luka waited for her to say what he thought she must have been thinking. She only stopped when he looked straight into her eyes.
"What do you want?"
Ceila swallowed.
"I want you to meet my friends," she piped up. "And I can meet your friends. That way, we'll all be friends! Agreed?"
The elevator stopped at the third floor. Luka was now stunned.
"I don't think that would be a good idea."
Ceila shook her head.
"Nonsense!" she refuted. "It's a great idea!"
Luka got off, still looking at Ceila as she waved to him.
"Be at my place at eight-thirty."
**
He is suddenly in the heat of the party
slouching towards women, revolving round
one unhappy shadow.
Luka felt he was being suckered into something. Why couldn't he ever say no to Ceila?
It was eight-thirty and he was at the door of the pad above the Vanilla Flower (he remembered how to get there but couldn't remember how he knew that). He knocked on the door.
Ceila pulled the door open. Luka couldn't believe how completely different she looked after work. She wore her hair in a loose roll (much better than that unbecoming tight roll she affected for work). She could have impeccable taste in clothes when she tried (less revealing than the short skirt she wore on her first day at the ER). She had on a black knit halter top and skirt with knee-high black boots.
"You're here!" Ceila cried. She grabbed Luka's arm. "Come in!"
Luka was pulled in and thrust into a world he was afraid of. A tall, bespectacled man with spiky blond hair, a red-headed woman, a man who helped himself to beer, a blonde woman all looked at Luka and were all wearing black. It must have been required for the evening but Luka missed that bit of information. He, therefore, felt out of place in his navy-blue clothes. He tried to hide his feelings of self-consciousness as Ceila introduced him to her friends.
"These are just a few of my friends," she explained as she pointed out the blond man, the redhead, the man with beer and the blonde respectively. "Craig, Bina, Gary and Alison (a friend from Canada)."
Luka froze. He forgot what he was supposed to do in these situations. Everyone waited for him to say something.
Ceila did it for him.
"Dr. Kovac is from Croatia. He lived by the sea growing up. He is the attending physician where I work and he has a really weird birthmark on his arm. Ask him about it."
She slapped him on the shoulder (the tattooed shoulder).
"Take it away. Dr. Luka."
With that, Ceila disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Luka to slowly back into the wall and grip it in fear of the black-clad strangers known as Ceila's friends.
**
Ceila arranged cut vegetables on a platter. Alison ran into the kitchen, keeping her high voice as low as she could.
"Oh my God, Ceila!" she gaped. "He is everything and a bag of chips!"
Bina followed suit.
"My God! That man is six feet worth of sexy!"
Ceila smiled a little.
"Six feet four."
Bina tapped Ceila on the shoulder.
"You're stalking him!"
Ceila placed a cherry tomato in her mouth.
"No, I just observe things."
Ceila walked out with the platter of vegetables.
Alison rolled her head back.
"Observes things! Right!"
**
The night wore on. Luka lost some of his inhibition and actually talked a little to Ceila's friends. Now, he looked at the pictures Ceila had displayed on the wall. Black-haired children. Mountains. A huge leaf.
Ceila edged along side of him.
"I know you don't like these sorts of things," she said softly.
He turned to her briefly and resumed looking at the pictures.
"I don't mind."
"I only wanted you to meet my friends and my friends to meet you," she explained.
He looked at her again.
"I don't mind," he repeated. "Really. I like your friends."
Ceila smiled warmly.
"I'm glad you do. They like you and I know I'll like your friends."
Luka returned her smile. He directed her attention to the pictures.
"Who are these people? What is this?"
Ceila looked and pointed to each picture.
"These are my sisters and brother. These are the mountains in the west, and I found this leaf hiking around Georgian Bay. Remember I told you about that place?"
Luka chuckled.
"I remember something bad about a car!"
Ceila looked embarrassed.
"Well, I got that there, before I turned over the car."
Luka still laughed at the incident and Ceila was still embarrassed.
"Please say you don't have a mental picture of me in white t-shirt!"
Luka did, as well as the turned-over car. He just buried his head in his hands, trying to hide the gales of laughter that flooded from his mouth.
Ceila could only roll her eyes.
**
It was Saturday night. Luka invited Ceila to Little Zagreb. He felt confident to be seen with her there. No one from work could see them (how could they? They had no idea where he lived or cared what he did) and Ceila, Luka felt, was a woman to be seen with. Young, pretty, an easy manner with people. He felt she complemented his quiet stoicism.
Aristotle Simunic lifted his head when Luka walked into the bar with a pretty girl on his arm.
"Šime, Ti si ovdje! Kovo ona je?"
Luka placed a friendly hand on Ceila's shoulder.
"Moj ime je Ceila," she answered.
Aristotle was impressed.
"Your Croatian is good," he complimented. "Šime is a good teacher."
Ceila smiled at Luka, who self-consciously skulked behind her.
"Yes, he is."
**
They sat in the corner booth. Luka was on his second cigarette. Ceila was appalled that he should smoke but he disregarded her pouts. He only blew out shapely rings of smoke while Gojslava, Aristotle's wife, and Kaja, her daughter, told Ceila all about Luka.
"His friend from medical school, Gordana, has more stories about him," Kaja revealed, a glint of friendly evil in her eye. "All the nasty things he's done!"
Luka gave her a naughty look as he flicked his ash.
Gojslava gently chided her daughter for her gossip.
"Don't listen to her, Ceila! Šime is a very good boy! Would you like to see pictures of him when he was small?"
Now Luka was worried.
"Yes, I would!" Ceila said before Luka could refuse.
Gojslava left the table to get the pictures.
Kaja, likewise, rose from the table.
"I have to get back to work," she said, giving the two a cautious look. "Make sure he's a gentleman."
"Oh, I will," Ceila assured her.
Luka and Ceila were now alone. Ceila rested her hands on the table.
"You're bad, Dr. Kovac," she purred.
Luka did not look at her. Maybe he felt a bit guilty. He smoked the last of his cigarette.
Ceila locked her eyes on him.
"You're more than what you seem."
Luka mashed out his cigarette. He did not answer Ceila, or even look at her. He seemed bashful that any revelation about him left him in the open.
Ceila craned her neck to see into his eyes. He giggled at her.
"You're bad underneath, Šime!"
Ceila toyed with her napkin.
"Why do they call you Šime, anyway? What is that? A pet name or something?"
"It's a just a nickname," Luka answered. "It's kind of common where I grew up."
"Down by the sea," Ceila nodded. "With the rough rocks and the ports and the pirates who buried treasure! Ahoy!"
Luka laughed.
"I don't think there's any treasure where I lived!"
Ceila was happy to see him laugh. He looked so beautiful when he did that.
"Why don't you go back?" she asked.
Luka fingered another cigarette.
"I live here now."
Ceila rested her arms on the table.
"Don't you miss your home?"
Luka thought for a second.
"Kind of."
He put his cigarettes away.
"But I'm doing okay here."
Ceila looked at him. He avoided her eyes the whole time he was talking to her.
Gojslava returned with a bundle of photographs.
"Here they are!"
Luka buried his head in his hands.
"Oh no!"
Ceila wanted to rummage through them.
"Any baby ones?"
Gojslava picked one out. Ceila gushed over it.
"Oh my God! What an angel!"
Luka tried to hide under the table but couldn't fit.
Ceila smiled evilly.
"I'm going to scan this and use it as wallpaper on my computer."
Ceila rose from her seat.
"But for now, I'm going to get something to drink."
Ceila made way to the bar where Aristotle was working. He gave her a brief look.
"You get along well with Šime," he said without looking at her.
Ceila smiled.
"I like Dr. Kovac," she revealed.
"I see that," Aristotle noted. "I even saw you with him once. He caught you when you fell in the market. I could see it from here."
Ceila blushed a little.
"I hoped I wouldn't have to relive that!"
Aristotle firmly gazed at her.
"What do you want with Šime?"
Ceila was affronted by Aristotle's question.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean, why do follow him around?" Aristotle explained. "What's a pretty girl like you doing teasing him like that?"
Ceila scowled at Aristotle.
"What do you mean teasing? And what do you mean that I'm hanging around him? I'm just casual eye candy out for fresh meat?! That's disgusting! I shouldn't even dignify that with an answer!"
"I've seen lots of pretty girls look at him," Aristotle said. "He doesn't need to be hurt."
Aristotle looked Luka over Ceila's shoulder.
"He's been through enough."
"What are you saying?" Ceila asked.
"I mean his wife," Aristotle explained.
Ceila was incredulous over the bit of information.
"Luka was married?"
Aristotle gave her a scorching look.
"She's dead now. Kids, too. All killed in Vukovar. He was hanging by a thread when he came here. He doesn't need to go through the past again, and he doesn't need someone to leave him!"
Ceila did not answer Aristotle. Her eyes became glassy. An obstruction formed in her throat.
"I didn't know that about him....."
"He doesn't like to talk about it," Aristotle said. He pressed his hand on the counter. "Don't hurt him."
Ceila shook her head.
"Never..."
She took a glass of water and returned to the table. Luka could see how her white skin became whiter.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"Just tired," Ceila lied. "Could I please go home now?"
Luka nodded. He bade Aristotle and Gojslava good night and walked Ceila out into the cool night air.
"Are you okay?" he asked. "You look sick."
Ceila tried to laugh off Luka's concern.
"I think I ate something that didn't agree with me," she lied. "I'll be okay once I get home."
Luka nodded.
"I'll drive you."
Ceila could not refuse.
**
The earth is hollow.
It cannot feel the touch of walking feet,
Or the kiss of falling rain.
The grass under our feet is brown-
Not green as when our children ran on it.
The sky becomes angry.
Crops do not grow.
All the world is hungry
And cannot be filled.
At Ceila's request, Luka left her. Her apartment was dark save a few night lights. She hated the dark but sensed that Luka may be watching her from the window so she did not switch any lights on. She walked into the bathroom and leaned over the sink. She vomited and rinsed out her mouth and face. She looked into the mirror. She could see an outline of her face. She rubbed her hand against the mirror and damned her eyes. She could not look at Luka the same way after what Aristotle told her. How could she pretend that Luka was not among the decidedly forgotten atrocities? There was a pain in him that he hid from her, from everybody. She didn't want to hurt him. Ceila screwed her eyes shut. She knew in her bones how she felt about Luka, now and then, and nothing could change it.
**
It had been nearly a month since Luka began to see more of Ceila on a social basis. He knew her friends and they knew him. Ceila, oddly enough, was a bit reserved around his friends but still held her own. We're all Slavs underneath, she would say. It made him laugh.
The el train rocked back and forth. Luka was oblivious to it. He smiled when he thought of her (even though it may have seemed odd to the other passengers). Nothing bothered him now. He felt a little fearless. Ceila had that effect on him.
Over the past few months, she had grown. She was learning more, studying more, becoming more. Luka began to figure out what Ceila wanted. He wanted it, too. He had grown, as well. He was not afraid. Whatever was to happen should happen, he thought. Damn everything else.
The bell rung. Three more stops before County General. He held onto the potted plant tightly and waited for his stop.
**
March seventeenth.
More commonly known as Saint Patrick's Day, the ER staff knew it as Green Day for the green vomit that would eventually wind up on the floor. However, Ceila's birthday would provide some relief from the inevitable vomit. At least, Kerry thought so.
"I think it would be nice if we did something for Student Nurse Kowalski's birthday," she said.
Susan rolled her eyes.
"Why? Junior's too young to take drinking!"
Kerry was livid.
"We don't need to take her drinking! We need to do something nice! A card! Anything! I don't want her finishing her practicum thinking that County General is an inhospitable place."
"But it is!" Susan returned. "Look at Frank!"
Frank could only scowl. He directed Susan to an ill patient.
"I think someone could use your help, Dr. Lewis!"
Susan made her way to a man keeled over in the hall.
"Sir, can I help you?"
The man wretched and vomited while Frank smiled evilly at the karma expelled on Susan's shoes. The vomit-dimmed tide was loosed.
**
The staff gathered surreptitiously at the admittance desk.
"What did you get for Kowalski?" Chuny asked Malik in a hushed voice.
"Bath-beads," he answered.
Conni huffed in disbelief.
"You didn't!"
He shrugged.
"I didn't know what else to get her!"
Lily also confessed to acquiring the same gift.
"I don't really know her that well, so....." she stammered.
Lizzie was at the desk with a form.
"Dr. Corday, what did you get Kowalski?" Chuny asked.
"I got her that green tea she likes so much," Lizzie answered.
Chuny sighed with relief.
"At least somebody got her something different. That should hold that little SOB!"
"I got her a little stationary set," Frank announced. "Canadians like those sorts of things."
"I got her a scrapbook," Gallant said.
Pratt rubbed his hands together.
"I got my hands on some Vancouver smoked salmon!"
Chen and Susan (fresh from cleaning off some more vomit) were intrigued at Pratt's apparent purchasing power.
"That's quite a gift!" Chen awed. "It's too much!"
Pratt only scowled at her.
"Nothing is too good if it came from off a ship!"
"Where did you score that?" Susan asked.
"A friend of mine who works on a ship got it for me!" Pratt revealed. "I can't wait to see Kowalski's face when I tell her what I got her!"
Susan could not resist being sarcastic.
"Yeah! Who wouldn't want something that was in a rusty cargo hold?"
Pratt ignored her, confident in the assumption that his was the right gift.
**
Ceila had an incredible smile on her face. The day being her birthday, she did not see any reason why she should feel blue. She had a skip in her step, a smile on her face and wore under her scrub shirt a changed t-shirt reading: Kiss me, I'm Ceila.
Carter saw the t-shirt. His face was alight with possible flirtation.
"You saw that!" he declared to no one in particular and pointed at her t-shirt. "She waived consent!"
Carter ran up to Ceila and planted his lips on her's. Ceila's face puckered up, completely surprised and repulsed by Carter's impromptu kiss. When their lips broke contact, Carter presented her with a gift.
"Happy birthday!"
Carter ran along, leaving Ceila holding onto a small package.
**
Ceila was still wiping the debasement of Carter's kiss when she walked into the lounge. Luka had just arrived. He was removing his coat.
"Ceila!" he cried.
Ceila was equally happy to see him.
Luka saw the present Ceila was holding.
"You have a present?'
Ceila nodded.
"Yes...." she uttered sheepishly.
"I have something for you," Luka announced.
He pushed the potted plant to her.
"Happy birthday," he said pleasantly. "It's a...hijacint...I think."
"Hyacinth," she repeated in English and smiled. She sniffed the flower. "It's beautiful. It's a spring plant."
He nodded.
"Yes."
He backed away, pleased that his gift did not offend. How could it?
"I hope you like it," Luka wished.
Ceila sniffed the fragrant flower again and touched its white, waxy buds.
"I do. Thank you."
Luka was glad to see she appreciated it.
"I suppose your friends have something planned for your birthday."
Ceila shook her head.
"Not really," she replied. "My dad thought of taking me out. He always makes a big deal out of my birthday."
"It's always good to have a reason to celebrate," Luka supposed as he placed his white coat on. "I have to get to work or I'll be back on midnights!"
Ceila smiled at him.
"Thank you, Luka."
He offered her a warm smile before leaving.
**
Pratt would not rest until he proved for once and for all that his gift of smoked salmon was the right gift to get. He approached Ceila.
"Okay, Kowalski?"
Ceila looked at him
"Yeah?"
"If you could have any wish in the world right now," Pratt asked, "aside from world peace and children singing in peace and harmony and all that- what would it be?"
Ceila shrugged.
"I don't know. A plate of smoked salmon, maybe?"
That was it.
Pratt whooped for joy and ran up and down the hall triumphant.
**
A shift of inglorious hell had ended. Ceila enjoyed her gifts- the green tea, the stationary, the endless number of bath-bead sets, the smoked salmon. Now her friend, Jeff McFarlane, offered to take her out for an evening of loud Celtic music and drinking.
"Won't Rosemary wonder where you are?" she asked.
Jeff huffed.
"Yeah. So?"
Ceila grimaced.
"Jeff, you hoser! Don't take that attitude!"
Jeff tapped Ceila on the shoulder.
"I'll phone her and tell where I am," he compromised. "I'm not going to stay, anyway."
Ceila became a little more conciliatory.
"Better."
"Put your coat on, kid," Jeff advised. "And don't let them card you at the door."
**
Abby and Carter walked into the crisp air, hands in pockets, heads bowed. They did not look at each other nor did they speak. Only the sounds of their feet dragging on the pavement of the ambulance bay could be heard.
Carter wanted to break the silence.
"Do you want to get something to eat?"
"Yeah, sure," Abby nodded disinterestedly.
"There's a Thai place," Carter suggested.
Jeff and Ceila jaunted at a quick pace. They ran into Carter and Abby. Ceila seemed a bit embarrassed by her enthusiastic gait.
"Hey!" Ceila cried. "Jeff and I were going out for some drinking and loud music! Do you want to come with?"
Abby seemed very keen on the idea.
"Yes," she responded quickly. "Yes, I do."
Carter glared at her.
"Maybe it's not such a good idea," he suggested with hidden meaning in his voice.
Abby ignored him.
"I could use a night out."
**
Things got louder as they approached. The door of the pub was pushed open.
Jeff grinned with a lit cigarette between his teeth.
"Ah, yeah! She's goin' up tonight, boys!"
Carter had no idea what that meant but he hoped it didn't involve alcohol. He took Abby by the arm.
"I'll order us some sodas and we'll sit away from the rabble. We'll talk, just you and I."
Abby released her arm from Carter's grasp and followed Jeff to the bar.
Ceila had since sat down at a booth. With a slouch creasing his shoulders, Carter shuffled to her. Ceila did not seem as distant as she had been of him. Relations had cooled between them. Carter did not seem as anxious to scold her and Ceila felt she could trust him, if only a little, after the Crowe affair.
Carter sat next to her in the booth. They did not speak but rather rested their hands on the table and remained uncomfortably silent.
Ceila broke the silence by clearing her throat and offering her thanks for the present.
"Thank you for the Chinese stress balls," she said, her blue eyes becoming as glass.
Carter smiled a little.
"I don't think you will use them."
Ceila smiled a little, as well.
"Maybe."
Silence.
"You should look out," Carter warned. "Someone might see that you're underage."
"I'm twenty-two," she said.
Carter was surprised.
"Oh! You look younger," he said. "I just thought..."
"Yeah," Ceila nodded. "I get that."
Carter nodded and the two fell into another bout of silence.
**
Jeff ordered himself and Ceila a half-pint. Abby was beside him quickly swallowing shots of whiskey. He thoroughly expected her to fall over any minute.
"Lockhart, have you had enough?" he asked.
She sneered at him.
"Not you, too!"
She staggered to the table where Carter and Ceila were sitting.
Carter could see from Abby's glassy eyes that she already had started to drink.
"I think we should leave, Abby," Carter angrily suggested. "It's getting too loud and smoky. You know how you hate cigarette smoke."
Abby stole one of Jeff's cigarettes and lit up.
Ceila turned to Carter.
"I guess not."
Carter sucked on his cheeks.
"Excuse me," he mumbled and rose from the table.
Jeff was confused by Carter's standoffish behaviour.
"What is this? WASP insecurity?"
Abby chuckled.
"Just ignore him," she slurred. "He's in a bad mood."
Ceila reached for her drink.
"I think you hurt him," she supposed. "Maybe he wanted to spend time with you."
Abby now glared at her.
"It's none of your business."
Jeff could see that Ceila was holding back an urge to act on Abby's snipe.
Ceila rose from the table.
"Then it won't be any of your business if I get up and join him!"
Abby only laughed as Ceila went to find Carter.
"Nothing's stopped you before!"
Jeff was annoyed.
"You're doing a great job alienating people, Lockhart."
Abby only puffed on her cigarette and helped herself to another drink.
**
Carter stood against the wall at the far end of the pub. Ceila approached him.
"Head back to the table with me," she asked.
"I don't think so," Carter replied.
Ceila rolled her eyes.
"Stop being such a child! You know as I do she can like a cow! Are you going to let that ruin your evening?!"
Carter was astounded by Ceila's forthrightness. Someone who said what was on their mind for a change, he thought.
"That's not it," Carter returned.
"Then what?" Ceila asked. "I swear to God, you higher-up people are all alike! Someone hurts your little feelings and you throw hissy-fits! No wonder there are revolutions!"
Carter huffed.
"I've never made my background an issue with you ever but you call me up on it! I think you do that because you need some bourgeoisie pet hate!"
Ceila's face read a "whatever" look.
"Project all you want!" she deadpanned. "And you still don't know a thing about me! Now, head back to the table and let her know you're not taking any crap from her, or be a child and sulk. It's entirely up to you."
Carter became less defensive.
"How about a third option?"
Ceila was remotely intrigued.
"Like what?"
Carter sat at an empty table.
"Sit here with me."
Ceila rolled her eyes.
"What? Look- I have Jeff waiting for me...."
Carter just sighed and tapped his fingers against the table.
"Yeah, you unWASPs are all alike- too snobbish to sit with someone who is not from the neighbourhood."
Ceila rolled her eyes again and plunked down on a seat.
"Fuck you, Carter! I swear to God!"
Carter only grinned at his evil.
**
Jeff looked at his watch. He wondered where Ceila and Carter were. He told Rosemary he would only be an hour and that was over an hour and forty-five minutes ago. Now he was stuck babysitting Abby who was out-drinking and out-smoking him.
"Don't you think you've had enough?" he asked gingerly, wary of upsetting one's binge-induced feelings.
Abby puffed on another cigarette.
"I'll tell you when I've had enough!" she snarled. She then laughed and smacked Jeff on the hand. "HA! I had you going!"
Jeff was not amused.
"You sure did."
"I like you, Jeff," Abby said as she stroked Jeff's hand. "You always say what's on your mind."
Her fingers gently rubbed over the roughness of Jeff's knuckles.
"I like that," she revealed softly.
Jeff carefully removed his hand.
"I'll call you a cab," he said as he got up yo use the phone.
Abby shook her head.
"Carter will take me home," she said. "He wouldn't leave without me."
**
Luka walked into the pub. It was noisy and crowded but through the smoke, he could see Jeff coming towards him.
"Hey!" Luka greeted him. "I thought you were with Ceila?"
Jeff was putting on his jacket.
"I was but she went to chase Carter out of crying his eyes out over Abby," Jeff explained. "By the way, she's turned into the Bride of Lushenstein. I called a cab for her."
Luka nodded slowly.
"I see. Thank you."
"Don't thank me, Boss-Fella," Jeff said. He slapped Luka on the shoulder. "Hey, I didn't thank you for the gift you gave Rosie and David. It was nice."
Luka smiled.
"I'm glad she liked it. And the baby?"
Jeff rolled his eyes.
"He likes anything he can stick in his mouth!"
Luka laughed.
"Good night, Boss-Fella," Jeff said as he went out the door.
Luka ventured further into the pub to find Ceila who was apparently trying to comfort Carter. She was there, at a table at the end of the pub, sitting chastely as Carter waved his hands, presumably trying to explain something. Luka breathed carefully. It couldn't be a repeat of Malucci. It couldn't.
"Hello," Luka said as kept his eye on the rambling Carter. "I didn't think I would see you here," he lied.
Carter had since stopped talking. Ceila was delighted to see Luka.
Luka looked right at Carter.
"Do you mind if I sit down?"
Ceila laughed.
"Luka, you don't have to ask Carter's permission to do anything! Sit!"
Carter was surprised at Ceila's ease.
Luka sat down feeling a little more confident.
"I was just explaining to Kowalski how I had to insert a guide wire into a patient once," Carter expounded.
"It's an interesting story," Ceila said. "You should hear it."
Luka crossed his hands together.
"I'm sure it is."
**
Abby could see from her booth how Ceila was cornered on either side by Carter and Luka. The girl was not oblivious to either man's attentions.
Abby pursed her lips together and hugged her hands around the pint glass.
The bartender tapped her on the shoulder.
"Hey, lady? There's a cab for you."
Abby nodded.
"Thank you," she said softly.
Abby pushed away her glass and wobbly made her way to the waiting cab.
**
Why should I blame her, that she filled my days with misery...
Carter repeated his guide wire story for Luka. For Carter, it seemed that Luka only listened out of politeness, something he did frequently. Ceila, too, listened but, then again, only as a matter-of-course. It became obvious to Carter that throughout his story, Ceila wanted to have her attention elsewhere.
Carter looked at his watch.
"I've gotta go," Carter said as he excused himself from the table. "I start early tomorrow. I should go get Abby, as well."
"I believe Jeff called a cab for her," Luka told him.
Carter raised a curious brow.
"Oh. Well..."
He looked one more time on Luka and Ceila.
"Good night."
Luka and Ceila smiled their good nights to Carter and watched as he left.
Carter put on his jacket at the door. He looked on Ceila and Luka from the distance. They were talking, even joking. She seemed genuinely happy in the company of the melancholy man. With a bowed head, Carter left in the chill of the night.
**
Abby lay her head back in the cab. It had started to hurt her.
"Hey, lady! Where do you live?" the driver asked.
Abby shot her head up.
"Take me to County General Hospital."
The driver peered at Abby through the rearview mirror.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine!" Abby snapped. "Just...take me there, please."
The driver turned to the direction of the hospital.
Abby was ready to jump out as the driver got closer to the hospital.
She threw some bills into the driver's hands, mumbled her thanks and got out of the cab.
A paramedic was in the ambulance bay going through his rig.
"Hey! Is Dr. Lewis still here?" Abby asked.
"Yeah, I think so," he answered.
Abby nodded to him and ran into the hospital to find Susan.
Susan saw Abby as she scurried down the hall. She flagged her down.
"Abby!"
Abby spun around to her.
"Susan, can I talk to you?"
Susan looked concerned.
"Yeah, sure."
"Outside," Abby directed her.
Susan followed Abby out to the ambulance bay.
Abby ran her fingers through her hair.
"I'm going out of my skull!" she cried.
Susan crossed her arms, trying to keep the chill from her body.
"Okay?"
"Wanna know why?" Abby asked.
Susan caught Abby's bloodshot eyes.
"Why?"
"Fucking Kowalski!" Abby snapped. "That's who! She's Miss Goody-Nurse-Chick of the Year or something!"
Susan laughed.
"Yeah, I hear that."
Susan breathed deeply.
"Don't let her get to you, Abby. She's just a go-getter! They come and go through here all the time!"
Abby waved her finger at Susan.
"No, she's not! She's a... a... sign of something!"
Susan doubted.
"Abby, trust me. She is not a sign of anything. She's an eager beaver. A glorified candy-striper, and once her practicum is up, things will get back to normal."
Abby's anxiety stopped. Her shoulders caved in.
"Yeah. I suppose you're right."
Abby staggered around the ambulance bay.
"What is so fucking great about her, anyway?"
Susan could see now how drunk Abby really was.
"Abby?"
Abby turned on her foot.
"I think you should go home," Susan suggested. "You need to sleep on some things."
Abby smiled.
"You're right!" she concurred. "I do!"
Abby left Susan and hailed a cab.
**
Luka and Ceila had since left the pub. They began their long walk home. They laughed as they ambled on their way.
"I didn't think you liked places like that!" Luka laughed.
Ceila offered a light explanation.
"Jeff took me."
She stopped giggling.
"I had a nice time," she admitted.
"Yes," Luka nodded uneasily. "You were with your friends..."
"Carter just wanted to sit with someone," Ceila explained. "I think he looks to tell someone how great he is. It's a sign of loneliness."
Luka shrugged.
"I wouldn't know," he ambled away with his hands in his pockets. "He doesn't talk to me."
"He talks at you," Ceila concluded. "I've seen him do it."
Ceila gathered rising nerve.
"I don't think you should let him do that."
Luka stopped walking and looked right at her.
"I know it's none of my business," she went on further, "but you are his attending and he talks to you like you're hired help. It smacks of condescension and possibly- dare I say it?- ethnocentrism. Does he think that everyone from Eastern Europe came off the boat?"
Ceila paused for a second.
"Well- my great-grandfather did, but he was escaping the Russians!"
Luka laughed and pressed his finger to Ceila's ribbon lips, which had become just a blotch of colour on her rapidly blushing face.
"I don't worry about what he says and neither should you," he said softly.
Luka removed his finger from her lips.
"We should go home," he said. "We have to work tomorrow."
Ceila now looked into his eyes.
"I don't have to work until the end of the week."
Luka looked disappointed.
"I see," he nodded. "It's still late."
Luka linked arms with Ceila and walked her home.
**
The elevator always took a long time to get to its destination.
The tendons in Romano's neck tensed and the vein in his head pulsed. Jeff Karamazov, the pediatrician, noticed this. However he may have felt Romano's anger, Jeff still had to approach the problem diplomatically.
"We need Dr. Ferguson's support, whether you like it or not!" Jeff put forth.
Romano shot back at him, pointing his finger angrily.
"That bastard has his greedy little tentacle on the board of trustees' wallet and releases it when he feels like it. Now he's the one who's squirming!"
Jeff's jaw tensed.
"He's just a little boy!"
Romano shook his head.
"I'm not gonna play chicken with a kid's life!" Romano snapped. "I may be cold, but I'm not that cold! I say we use this as an opportunity to make that bastard a little more receptive!"
Jeff now understood.
"I wish there was another way."
"Yeah, well," Romano huffed, "you know what they say about wishes and horses!"
When the elevator stopped at the tenth floor, Romano and Jeff stepped off and made their way to the conference room. There, a tallish middle-aged man with ginger-coloured hair waited at the table. He lifted his head when the men entered the room.
"I'm glad to see punctuality is still one of your strong suits, Dr. Romano," the man said coldly.
Romano returned the man's coldness.
"It always has been, Sheldon."
Jeff didn't want to get in the way of the ongoing coldness between Romano and Dr. Sheldon Ferguson. He was here for a purpose.
"Dr. Ferguson, we have matters to discuss," Jeff asserted.
Ferguson looked coldly on the young man and then sat down.
"Of course."
Romano and Jeff sat down as well.
"As you know," Jeff began, "I've been trying to bring children from Chyornobyl here for treatment of cancer- a move you have steadfastly thwarted."
Ferguson joined his fingers together.
"The board of trustees and I have found such suggestions unworkable."
"Even though there was medical staff willing to provide their services gratis," Jeff returned. "And now...."
Ferguson's face was screwed up in mounting anger.
"And now you want to use my current situation against me!"
Jeff's face was blank and his eyes glassy.
"I wouldn't think of it, Dr. Ferguson. I only wondered if, in the light of things, you had a moment to become- how shall we say?- receptive?"
Ferguson resumed his regally cold exterior.
"I shall take your suggestions up with the board of trustees, Dr. Karamazov. In the evening, you shall know our mind in full."
Jeff nodded and got up. Romano, who had remained silent for much of the meeting, glanced quickly at Jeff and then rose from the table. Both of them turned to leave.
"Dr. Romano!" Ferguson called out. "A moment, please."
Jeff cast a quick look on Romano, wary of possible fallout, and then left. If Ferguson was an octopus, Romano was a wolverine. He could take care of himself.
Ferguson rose from the table and placed his hands behind his back.
"Walk with me."
**
Ceila hurried to the chief oncologist's office with the report in hand. This was the last shift of the week and the last working hour. She wanted to go home. She hurried by patients resting in their rooms or receiving chemotherapy. Her quickened gait stopped when she saw a henna-haired woman clutching onto a small boy's hand in a private room. He was pale and a cold sweat pasted dark tousles against his head. He looked wan and thin. Another child- a girl with walnut-coloured hair- gripped the edge of her sweater's sleeve and kept her head down. Ceila peered inside, never once taking her eyes off of the children.
**
Ferguson marched through the oncology ward. Romano had to quicken his pace.
"Did you think I wouldn't recognize a Romano-engineered screw-job when I saw one, Robert?" he asked coldly.
Romano kept his eyes ahead of him.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Sheldon," he denied. "Dr. Karamazov was only trying to speak for his patients."
Ferguson only sneered.
"So you use my nephew's condition to shove the point that my fiscal responsibilities aren't to your liking?"
Again, Romano strategically denied Ferguson's claims.
"Your nephew's leukemia and Dr. Karamazov's pet project have nothing to do with one another. Coincidence, I'm sure." Now Romano was cocky. "And I would never accuse you of being- too fiscally responsible."
Ferguson sneered again.
"Tell your pediatrician- friend he'll get his funding- for now. Call it empathy."
Romano remained.
"Why, Sheldon, I would hardly accuse you of having empathy."
Ferguson had to let Romano's snide ago. He had all kinds of fish to fry.
"You!" Ferguson shouted at a tiny nurse peering into a private room. "What are you doing here? Get moving!"
The tiny nurse swivelled her head to the shouting man. Her face contorted in anger, she brushed past Ferguson, tossed a report onto the nurses' station and left the floor altogether.
Romano only looked as Ceila strode away.
**
Jeff trembled with anticipation. He knocked on Romano's door.
"Come in."
Jeff came in, his hands tensing.
Romano was working at his desk.
"Well? What did he say?" Jeff panted.
"You've got your funding," Romano answered. "For now," he added with great weight. "His words, not mine."
Jeff nodded.
"And his nephew?"
Romano put down his pen.
"He needs a bone marrow transplant. Dr. Ferguson thinks one can be found here."
"Doesn't the boy have a twin sister?" Jeff asked.
"Yes," Romano answered, "but she is only a ninety-eight percent match."
Jeff rubbed his brow.
"If the boy's sister can't be used as a donor, I wonder why Dr. Ferguson thinks a perfect match can be found here."
Romano shrugged.
"Don't know. Maybe he knows something we don't."
**
Lizzie was already battle-weary and it wasn't even five o'clock. She had a bowel resection in the morning (after leaving a cranky Ella with the nanny), an emergency appendectomy and was on call in the ER which, especially today, was in great need of her. She certainly was in no mood for bother.
"Dr. Corday!"
Lizzie huffed and screwed her eyes shut.
"Yes, Dr. Kovac?"
Luka ran up to her.
"I need to speak to you about Student Nurse Kowalski."
Lizzie kept walking.
"Student nurse from Canada, tattoos, earrings...." she rattled off.
Luka kept pace with Lizzie.
"Yes, that's her."
"What about her?" Lizzie asked disinterestedly.
"You wrote comments for her evaluation," Luka began.
"I did," Lizzie confirmed. "I thought her rotation in surgery went well. Very well, in fact. I've rarely encountered such an inquisitive- and colourful- student."
"Yes," Luka nodded. "I wrote comments, too. She does a very good job in the ER."
Lizzie seemed a bit surprised that Luka had done as much. He wasn't the kind to put his thoughts forth. She let this fact slide for the moment.
"What is this about, Dr. Kovac?"
Luka seemed hesitant to say.
"She approached me...."
Lizzie was very interested.
"Really? She approached you?"
"She was worried about a negative comment," Luka explained defensively. "She thought I gave it to her. I didn't, of course, and you didn't. No one else has any real complaints about her...except Dr. Ferguson."
Lizzie raised a curious brow.
"That's odd. He has nothing whatsoever to do with students- or patients, for that matter. Why would he add his comments?"
Luka shook his head
"I don't know. I was hoping you could find out."
Lizzie stopped in her tracks.
"You want me to find out?! That man is a lion! He would eat me for breakfast!"
"But you work more closely with him than I do," Luka implored.
Lizzie huffed.
"I met him once and I didn't relish the experience!"
Luka was adamant.
"Please."
He remembered how Ceila approached him that morning. She was much paler than usual and she wrung her hands.
"I work as hard as the other nurses do," she said in a shaky voice.
"You work harder," he answered.
"Then why am I being treated like this? Am I doing something wrong? This comment could ruin my chances of finishing with top honours and future employment!"
Luka could only look at Ceila. This was important to her, so important that her stoic shield could no longer protect her. He had seen her take abuse, work longer hours and do more difficult work. She lived for the work that the emergency department thrived on. She was made for the work. It should be only fair that she be allowed to continue.
"I'll find out," Luka promised her.
Ceila still looked pale but felt a little better.
Luka implored Lizzie one more time.
"Will you help?"
Lizzie was torn. She wanted to help Ceila but did not wish to incur the ire of Dr. Ferguson, who was notorious for coming down on those who opposed him.
"How can I contradict his comments, however misplaced they may be?"
Luka clenched his jaw. His brow furrowed in anger.
"If you won't help then I'll do it myself!"
Luka turned from Lizzie. She grabbed his arm before he could storm off.
"Alright!" Lizzie breathed deeply. "I'll do it but we have to have a plan and a unified front. I don't like being on the wrong side of this man's temper!"
Luka nodded.
**
Jeff peered at Dr. Ferguson's nephew. The clock was ticking for the child, once a vibrant little boy, now a pale child with strands of black hair pasted to his forehead.
Romano approached Jeff.
"How's the kid?" he gingerly asked.
"He needs the transplant now!" Jeff declared without taking his eyes off the boy.
"He's in luck, then," Romano said. "A match has been found. Right here."
Jeff was amazed.
"Who?"
"Kowalski," Romano answered. "Carter found out."
Romano looked at the boy once.
"I guess Ferguson's instincts were right."
**
Midnight.
Ceila crept through the oncology ward. She didn't want to be seen. Indeed, no one would have suspected her. She should have left the hospital hours ago. She snuck into the room where Dr. Ferguson's nephew lay sleeping. The boy's parents had taken the other child, a shy girl, home with them for the night. Ceila looked at the boy's chart. Hutchinson, Isaac. She sat next to his bed and took his hand as gently as she was able.
"Hello, Isaac," she whispered. "I've heard an awful lot about you."
Ceila plucked a damp tousle from Isaac's forehead.
"Why did you have to become sick? Hhmmmmm?"
Ceila's shoulders sank. Isaac did not move. His chest only heaved slightly with breath. Ceila wondered how the little boy could be so afflicted. He should have been climbing trees or collecting rocks, she thought. Was his illness random or a punishment from something not yet atoned?
Ceila could hear heavier breathing behind. She saw reflected in the sidebars of the bed that Carter was standing in the doorway with a chart in his hand.
"I've been looking for you," he said in a low, soft voice.
"I've been keeping out-of-sight," she answered without lifting her eyes from Isaac.
"I have the results from the blood test," Carter answered.
Ceila only nodded slightly.
"You're a match," Carter explained. "You're an unbelievable match. You..."
Ceila gripped onto the sleeping Isaac's hand.
"So you think I should undergo the procedure right away?" she interrupted.
Carter only looked at her.
"It would be good, yeah."
Ceila nodded.
"Good," she breathed shakily. "The sooner we can get this kid's life back to the way it was, the better."
** The sky had become angry and the days seemed longer. Luka hadn't seen Ceila in days, not since the bone marrow transplant. So much had transpired since then. He had spoken to Dr. Ferguson and Isaac was recovering. She needn't be afraid.
Luka went to her flat and banged on her door. She had not answered the phone nor her e-mail. Her parents had seen her twice, saying that she wanted to rest and not be seen. Luka could not be that patient. He banged on the door again. Just then, it started to rain.
"Govno!" he cussed.
The door was jarred open. Ceila appeared before him in drab, heavy bed-clothes, looking wan and worn, her eyes reddened and her thick black hair unbrushed and knotted. She tried in vain to make her hair more appealing by brushing through it with her hand.
"Dr. Kovac, I wasn't expecting you," she whimpered.
The rain pelted down. Luka became drenched in a matter of seconds.
"You're wet," she noticed weakly. "Come in."
"Are you alright?" he finally asked.
Ceila tried to make her hair presentable again.
"I'm getting over the procedure," she answered automaton.
"That's not what I meant," Luka returned.
He stepped in the doorway. He brushed a curl from Ceila's head.
"I meant...."
Luka swallowed hard.
"Years ago, my family....they died....."
Ceila avoided Luka's eyes.
"Why are you telling me this? I can't help you."
Luka stepped back, his face and hair wet with rain.
"I don't want you to help me. I just wanted to let you know."
Ceila stepped away from Luka.
"You know..." he stuttered. "You can tell me things. Anything. Just to say."
Ceila opened the door a bit more.
"Come in," she implored. "Please."
Luka obliged her and disappeared into the dry warmth of her home.
**
Ceila returned to work two weeks later. She seemed her bright, chipper self, ready to take orders and do the scut work the other nurses didn't want to do. They called her Nurse Cinderella. She didn't notice. She just did her job and disappeared into the lounge, when she had a moment, to drink her green tea.
Luka started his shift in the morning. He saw that she was back. Breath failed to leave his lips.
"Ceila!"
Ceila put down her cup of tea.
"Dr. Kovac!"
The two faced one another, awkwardly, like something unresolved halted them.
Luka waved his hand over her.
"You're all better?"
Ceila nodded.
"Yeah."
She shoved her hands in her back pockets.
"You're still working mornings?" she asked.
Luka nodded.
"Yeah."
Silence.
"Thank you for seeing me," she said softly. "When..."
Luka nodded again.
"I wanted to see you again," he answered.
More silence.
There was that sheen in her eyes again.
"Luka, I need to ask you something," she breathed.
Luka waited without breath.
"Where did you get the hyacinth?" she asked.
The breath came back.
"A garden..." Luka mumbled with hints of anti-climax in his voice.
"I only ask because my mum wants to know," Ceila explained. "I'm not trying to be rude or anything because....well, just because. The hyacinth was a gift, and a lovely gift, but my mum is starting to put her garden in and she wondered when she came by where I got the hyacinth, so...."
Luka put his hands in his pockets.
"I can show you," he offered. "After work. There is a place on the outskirts. A really nice greenhouse. My friend owns it."
Ceila nodded.
"Yes. Thank you. At seven, then?"
Luka nodded without looking into her eyes.
"Yes."
**
"You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
They called me the hyacinth girl."
-Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing...
The rain pelted the city once more.
Luka and Ceila ran from the car to the only light they saw- the one in the greenhouse- in hopes of finding relief from the rain. Once inside, Ceila looked around.
"Where is your friend?"
"Not here," Luka answered as he brushed droplets of rain from him. "She goes home for the night at six-thirty."
Ceila was baffled.
"She just leaves this place unlocked? Isn't she worried that someone could steal something?"
Luka shrugged.
"What? There are no TVs or money. What could they steal? A plant?"
Ceila could see Luka's point.
"But we're on our own," she saw. "Can we just take something?"
"I called her before," Luka supplied. "She'll know."
"Okay then," Ceila exhaled as she looked about. "I guess we should pick up a hyacinth and get going."
Luka nodded and started to look.
"Okay. You wanted a pink hyacinth."
When he turned to Ceila, he saw she wasn't inside. He could see from the window that she had gone outside to see the rose-of-Sharon growing on the trellis. He could not breathe. He slowly walked outside and crept to her.
Luka could see her in the rain. She plucked a rose-of-Sharon blossom and placed it in her hair. She stood on her toes to smell the flowers on the trellis. Just then Luka saw that she was more beautiful than anything. Her black curly hair was like wet silk draping over her shoulders. Her floral print cotton dress clung to her body. Luka kept moving toward Ceila. Her eyes, blue and vapid, stared at him, not knowing what to think.
Luka took her face in his hands and pressed his lips to her's. She did not resist. Her body became limp, held up only by Luka's hands. He pressed his body to her's. They fell under the weight of it. It was under the rain-drenched pink blossoms that he made love to her.
**
Even though it had stopped raining, both Luka and Ceila were soaked to the skin and smudged with freshly-dug soil. Luka picked Ceila up and placed her in the car. He drove into the city to her apartment. Only the outside lights shone on the inside. Luka placed her down on the bed and started to remove her wet clothing. She grasped his wrists.
"Stay."
Without thinking, he pulled away the last of her clothing and started to remove his. Ceila lost her hands in his dark hair and shut her eyes tightly. She could hear him breathing and feel the heat of his breath on her neck. She completely surrendered when she could feel him inside her.
**
He went to work in the morning, still thinking of her. His eyes were dull, his heart heavy. He was lost in revery. It was noticed. Now subject to the conjecture of others, he left sullen. He went back to his apartment. He waited. His hands twitched and his breath was bated. He picked up the phone.
"I need you."
She dropped her phone and sprinted to his apartment. He opened the door three times to see if she had come. The third time she was there. She locked herself in an embrace with him and they tumbled into his bedroom, shearing off their clothes, suckling each other's lips and pulling each other's bodies closer together so that every part touched and entered. He rolled over her, pressing his manhood against her skin, joining himself with her. He enjoyed the cool velvet of her skin, the roundness of her breasts, the muscles of her arms. She arched her back and gripped the bars of the headrest, expelling excited air. There was nothing in this world but him right now and she relished it.
*
Author's note: this story uses lines from the poems by Hwang Chin-i, Michael Ondaatje, WB Yeats, TS Eliot.
I would cut the waist of
The long November night,
And roll one half
And keep it under my coverlet
Of the spring breeze.
And when my love returns to me
I would unroll it inch by inch.
February was unusually balmy. Global warming some said.
Luka did not mind. He kept the window of his bedroom open and enjoyed the cool air on his bare skin. He had the night off, a welcome change from the purgatorial shifts he had been working since November. Since the beginning of the month, it seemed he was barely at the hospital. He saw more of his neighbours and friends in Little Zagreb than he did of his co-workers. That included Ceila.
Ceila.
He barely saw her at all. He remembered her walking with Malucci arm-in-arm in January. The memory pained him. He was growing closer to her, oblivious of the letter Malucci had sent and of the world around him. But when he saw them together, Luka moved away. Ceila was something out of his reach. Something he could never have. He felt a feeling that had been all too familiar in recent years. The torture of want somehow made the pain liveable.
He remembered in August when Ceila was working her first shifts in the ER. They sat alone in the lounge. He taught her only how to say body parts and to count to three in Croatian. It kept her speech to a minimum. He went over journals as she did her assignments. She tore off pieces of paper and wrote questions.
How do you say: "I know" in Croatian?
He wrote: Znam
She wrote back: How do you say: "I love you"?
He looked at the note and then shot a quick look at her. Gulping only once, he wrote her the reply and gave it back to her.
Volim te.
Volim te.
He remembered how she looked when she took the note. Her pale blue eyes had that eerie sheen. She hugged the note to her body and left the lounge, as if she were terrified by the gravity of the question and response.
Everything that followed after- the gift of the poetry book, their suspension and the time they spent together, Christmas, when she fell into his arms and the blood on her skin.... Luka bit his lip. It had been some kind of flirtation. Nothing more. It was best, he deemed, to forget.
**
Ceila shut her eyes and hoped sleep wouldn't overtake her. She kept the window of her bedroom open to enjoy the cool air (being a child of the Arctic, she did not mind the temperature). She was moving around again- pediatrics, orthopedics, surgery. And the classes. She was busier than ever. She could no longer work part time at her filing job. Her studies had to take precedence over any minimum wage job. She would pull through somehow. All she wanted to do now was to think and rest. She thought of only one man.
Luka, she thought, had been avoiding her as of late. It wasn't simply her moving from ward to ward. He barely looked at her. How did she offend him? How could she make it up to him?
He occupied her thoughts a lot. He was there when she shut her eyes or when her thoughts drifted from more serious matters. Now, she thought about how to see him again. He was there from the beginning when no one had an ounce of faith in her. He did. She needed that faith again.
Ceila remembered in late July when he needed her skills. She looked up to him. Literally. He was tall with a slight slouch about his shoulders. His dark hair was short but for a moment she imagined it longer. Dark wisps falling about his high cheekbones. She watched his lips as they moved in speech and heard only the deep cadences of his voice.
"Do you understand, nurse?"
She smiled slightly and nodded.
"Yes."
Ceila now opened her eyes. It wasn't her being smitten. She recognized in him something she thirsted for- a presence and a power that no one could deny. Someone who could understand. She wanted it back.
**
Ceila was back in the ER. She was a born stress junkie the nurse manager professed. The ER staff was actually happy to see her again, even Susan and Carter. Luka kept his remove of her, though. Even in the close proximity of the elevator.
Her black hair was pulled back in that unbecoming bun. A French roll, a plait, anything.
Luka scolded himself for his thoughts. He was not interested in her. A student nurse. Another man's woman.
Ceila offered Luka a polite smile.
"It's good to be back, Dr. Luka."
Luka nodded a little.
"Are you going to the third floor?" he asked.
Ceila shook her head, her eyes with that eerie sheen.
"No. The eighth," she replied.
Silence.
Ceila turned to him and tried to engage him in some friendly conversation.
"It's too warm for February," she noted. "It's so warm I can keep my bedroom window open."
Strange, Luka thought. He could do the same but would not say as much.
Ceila waited for an answer.
"Dr. Kovac?"
Luka now turned his head to her.
"Sorry. I didn't hear you," he lied.
A frown touched her lips.
"Are you angry with me?"
Luka turned his head to her again. He couldn't let her feel that way.
"No. I...."
Ceila still frowned.
"You must be," she supposed. "Whenever I talk and you don't listen, I think that you don't care about what I'm saying. I know I'm not like your other friends but I like talking to you..."
"It's not that," Luka said.
Ceila was confused.
"Then what? Ever since January, you've been avoiding me..."
Luka's eyes, with a sense of guilt in them, were fixed on Ceila.
She exhaled. She then laughed a nervous laugh that put Luka off.
"You saw Malucci and me together and you're jealous!"
The red of lividity rose in Luka's face.
"I am not! I couldn't care less what you do in your spare time!"
Ceila only laughed with a little more confidence with having figured out the source of estrangement.
"You're jealous of Malucci and me?!"
Luka squared his jaw and turned from Ceila.
Ceila faced Luka.
"Malucci is my friend," she stated. "Nothing more, nothing less."
"You don't have to justify your relationship with him to me," Luka said.
Ceila tried to look into his eyes.
"There's nothing to justify. He is only my friend. I don't want him."
Luka waited for her to say what he thought she must have been thinking. She only stopped when he looked straight into her eyes.
"What do you want?"
Ceila swallowed.
"I want you to meet my friends," she piped up. "And I can meet your friends. That way, we'll all be friends! Agreed?"
The elevator stopped at the third floor. Luka was now stunned.
"I don't think that would be a good idea."
Ceila shook her head.
"Nonsense!" she refuted. "It's a great idea!"
Luka got off, still looking at Ceila as she waved to him.
"Be at my place at eight-thirty."
**
He is suddenly in the heat of the party
slouching towards women, revolving round
one unhappy shadow.
Luka felt he was being suckered into something. Why couldn't he ever say no to Ceila?
It was eight-thirty and he was at the door of the pad above the Vanilla Flower (he remembered how to get there but couldn't remember how he knew that). He knocked on the door.
Ceila pulled the door open. Luka couldn't believe how completely different she looked after work. She wore her hair in a loose roll (much better than that unbecoming tight roll she affected for work). She could have impeccable taste in clothes when she tried (less revealing than the short skirt she wore on her first day at the ER). She had on a black knit halter top and skirt with knee-high black boots.
"You're here!" Ceila cried. She grabbed Luka's arm. "Come in!"
Luka was pulled in and thrust into a world he was afraid of. A tall, bespectacled man with spiky blond hair, a red-headed woman, a man who helped himself to beer, a blonde woman all looked at Luka and were all wearing black. It must have been required for the evening but Luka missed that bit of information. He, therefore, felt out of place in his navy-blue clothes. He tried to hide his feelings of self-consciousness as Ceila introduced him to her friends.
"These are just a few of my friends," she explained as she pointed out the blond man, the redhead, the man with beer and the blonde respectively. "Craig, Bina, Gary and Alison (a friend from Canada)."
Luka froze. He forgot what he was supposed to do in these situations. Everyone waited for him to say something.
Ceila did it for him.
"Dr. Kovac is from Croatia. He lived by the sea growing up. He is the attending physician where I work and he has a really weird birthmark on his arm. Ask him about it."
She slapped him on the shoulder (the tattooed shoulder).
"Take it away. Dr. Luka."
With that, Ceila disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Luka to slowly back into the wall and grip it in fear of the black-clad strangers known as Ceila's friends.
**
Ceila arranged cut vegetables on a platter. Alison ran into the kitchen, keeping her high voice as low as she could.
"Oh my God, Ceila!" she gaped. "He is everything and a bag of chips!"
Bina followed suit.
"My God! That man is six feet worth of sexy!"
Ceila smiled a little.
"Six feet four."
Bina tapped Ceila on the shoulder.
"You're stalking him!"
Ceila placed a cherry tomato in her mouth.
"No, I just observe things."
Ceila walked out with the platter of vegetables.
Alison rolled her head back.
"Observes things! Right!"
**
The night wore on. Luka lost some of his inhibition and actually talked a little to Ceila's friends. Now, he looked at the pictures Ceila had displayed on the wall. Black-haired children. Mountains. A huge leaf.
Ceila edged along side of him.
"I know you don't like these sorts of things," she said softly.
He turned to her briefly and resumed looking at the pictures.
"I don't mind."
"I only wanted you to meet my friends and my friends to meet you," she explained.
He looked at her again.
"I don't mind," he repeated. "Really. I like your friends."
Ceila smiled warmly.
"I'm glad you do. They like you and I know I'll like your friends."
Luka returned her smile. He directed her attention to the pictures.
"Who are these people? What is this?"
Ceila looked and pointed to each picture.
"These are my sisters and brother. These are the mountains in the west, and I found this leaf hiking around Georgian Bay. Remember I told you about that place?"
Luka chuckled.
"I remember something bad about a car!"
Ceila looked embarrassed.
"Well, I got that there, before I turned over the car."
Luka still laughed at the incident and Ceila was still embarrassed.
"Please say you don't have a mental picture of me in white t-shirt!"
Luka did, as well as the turned-over car. He just buried his head in his hands, trying to hide the gales of laughter that flooded from his mouth.
Ceila could only roll her eyes.
**
It was Saturday night. Luka invited Ceila to Little Zagreb. He felt confident to be seen with her there. No one from work could see them (how could they? They had no idea where he lived or cared what he did) and Ceila, Luka felt, was a woman to be seen with. Young, pretty, an easy manner with people. He felt she complemented his quiet stoicism.
Aristotle Simunic lifted his head when Luka walked into the bar with a pretty girl on his arm.
"Šime, Ti si ovdje! Kovo ona je?"
Luka placed a friendly hand on Ceila's shoulder.
"Moj ime je Ceila," she answered.
Aristotle was impressed.
"Your Croatian is good," he complimented. "Šime is a good teacher."
Ceila smiled at Luka, who self-consciously skulked behind her.
"Yes, he is."
**
They sat in the corner booth. Luka was on his second cigarette. Ceila was appalled that he should smoke but he disregarded her pouts. He only blew out shapely rings of smoke while Gojslava, Aristotle's wife, and Kaja, her daughter, told Ceila all about Luka.
"His friend from medical school, Gordana, has more stories about him," Kaja revealed, a glint of friendly evil in her eye. "All the nasty things he's done!"
Luka gave her a naughty look as he flicked his ash.
Gojslava gently chided her daughter for her gossip.
"Don't listen to her, Ceila! Šime is a very good boy! Would you like to see pictures of him when he was small?"
Now Luka was worried.
"Yes, I would!" Ceila said before Luka could refuse.
Gojslava left the table to get the pictures.
Kaja, likewise, rose from the table.
"I have to get back to work," she said, giving the two a cautious look. "Make sure he's a gentleman."
"Oh, I will," Ceila assured her.
Luka and Ceila were now alone. Ceila rested her hands on the table.
"You're bad, Dr. Kovac," she purred.
Luka did not look at her. Maybe he felt a bit guilty. He smoked the last of his cigarette.
Ceila locked her eyes on him.
"You're more than what you seem."
Luka mashed out his cigarette. He did not answer Ceila, or even look at her. He seemed bashful that any revelation about him left him in the open.
Ceila craned her neck to see into his eyes. He giggled at her.
"You're bad underneath, Šime!"
Ceila toyed with her napkin.
"Why do they call you Šime, anyway? What is that? A pet name or something?"
"It's a just a nickname," Luka answered. "It's kind of common where I grew up."
"Down by the sea," Ceila nodded. "With the rough rocks and the ports and the pirates who buried treasure! Ahoy!"
Luka laughed.
"I don't think there's any treasure where I lived!"
Ceila was happy to see him laugh. He looked so beautiful when he did that.
"Why don't you go back?" she asked.
Luka fingered another cigarette.
"I live here now."
Ceila rested her arms on the table.
"Don't you miss your home?"
Luka thought for a second.
"Kind of."
He put his cigarettes away.
"But I'm doing okay here."
Ceila looked at him. He avoided her eyes the whole time he was talking to her.
Gojslava returned with a bundle of photographs.
"Here they are!"
Luka buried his head in his hands.
"Oh no!"
Ceila wanted to rummage through them.
"Any baby ones?"
Gojslava picked one out. Ceila gushed over it.
"Oh my God! What an angel!"
Luka tried to hide under the table but couldn't fit.
Ceila smiled evilly.
"I'm going to scan this and use it as wallpaper on my computer."
Ceila rose from her seat.
"But for now, I'm going to get something to drink."
Ceila made way to the bar where Aristotle was working. He gave her a brief look.
"You get along well with Šime," he said without looking at her.
Ceila smiled.
"I like Dr. Kovac," she revealed.
"I see that," Aristotle noted. "I even saw you with him once. He caught you when you fell in the market. I could see it from here."
Ceila blushed a little.
"I hoped I wouldn't have to relive that!"
Aristotle firmly gazed at her.
"What do you want with Šime?"
Ceila was affronted by Aristotle's question.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean, why do follow him around?" Aristotle explained. "What's a pretty girl like you doing teasing him like that?"
Ceila scowled at Aristotle.
"What do you mean teasing? And what do you mean that I'm hanging around him? I'm just casual eye candy out for fresh meat?! That's disgusting! I shouldn't even dignify that with an answer!"
"I've seen lots of pretty girls look at him," Aristotle said. "He doesn't need to be hurt."
Aristotle looked Luka over Ceila's shoulder.
"He's been through enough."
"What are you saying?" Ceila asked.
"I mean his wife," Aristotle explained.
Ceila was incredulous over the bit of information.
"Luka was married?"
Aristotle gave her a scorching look.
"She's dead now. Kids, too. All killed in Vukovar. He was hanging by a thread when he came here. He doesn't need to go through the past again, and he doesn't need someone to leave him!"
Ceila did not answer Aristotle. Her eyes became glassy. An obstruction formed in her throat.
"I didn't know that about him....."
"He doesn't like to talk about it," Aristotle said. He pressed his hand on the counter. "Don't hurt him."
Ceila shook her head.
"Never..."
She took a glass of water and returned to the table. Luka could see how her white skin became whiter.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"Just tired," Ceila lied. "Could I please go home now?"
Luka nodded. He bade Aristotle and Gojslava good night and walked Ceila out into the cool night air.
"Are you okay?" he asked. "You look sick."
Ceila tried to laugh off Luka's concern.
"I think I ate something that didn't agree with me," she lied. "I'll be okay once I get home."
Luka nodded.
"I'll drive you."
Ceila could not refuse.
**
The earth is hollow.
It cannot feel the touch of walking feet,
Or the kiss of falling rain.
The grass under our feet is brown-
Not green as when our children ran on it.
The sky becomes angry.
Crops do not grow.
All the world is hungry
And cannot be filled.
At Ceila's request, Luka left her. Her apartment was dark save a few night lights. She hated the dark but sensed that Luka may be watching her from the window so she did not switch any lights on. She walked into the bathroom and leaned over the sink. She vomited and rinsed out her mouth and face. She looked into the mirror. She could see an outline of her face. She rubbed her hand against the mirror and damned her eyes. She could not look at Luka the same way after what Aristotle told her. How could she pretend that Luka was not among the decidedly forgotten atrocities? There was a pain in him that he hid from her, from everybody. She didn't want to hurt him. Ceila screwed her eyes shut. She knew in her bones how she felt about Luka, now and then, and nothing could change it.
**
It had been nearly a month since Luka began to see more of Ceila on a social basis. He knew her friends and they knew him. Ceila, oddly enough, was a bit reserved around his friends but still held her own. We're all Slavs underneath, she would say. It made him laugh.
The el train rocked back and forth. Luka was oblivious to it. He smiled when he thought of her (even though it may have seemed odd to the other passengers). Nothing bothered him now. He felt a little fearless. Ceila had that effect on him.
Over the past few months, she had grown. She was learning more, studying more, becoming more. Luka began to figure out what Ceila wanted. He wanted it, too. He had grown, as well. He was not afraid. Whatever was to happen should happen, he thought. Damn everything else.
The bell rung. Three more stops before County General. He held onto the potted plant tightly and waited for his stop.
**
March seventeenth.
More commonly known as Saint Patrick's Day, the ER staff knew it as Green Day for the green vomit that would eventually wind up on the floor. However, Ceila's birthday would provide some relief from the inevitable vomit. At least, Kerry thought so.
"I think it would be nice if we did something for Student Nurse Kowalski's birthday," she said.
Susan rolled her eyes.
"Why? Junior's too young to take drinking!"
Kerry was livid.
"We don't need to take her drinking! We need to do something nice! A card! Anything! I don't want her finishing her practicum thinking that County General is an inhospitable place."
"But it is!" Susan returned. "Look at Frank!"
Frank could only scowl. He directed Susan to an ill patient.
"I think someone could use your help, Dr. Lewis!"
Susan made her way to a man keeled over in the hall.
"Sir, can I help you?"
The man wretched and vomited while Frank smiled evilly at the karma expelled on Susan's shoes. The vomit-dimmed tide was loosed.
**
The staff gathered surreptitiously at the admittance desk.
"What did you get for Kowalski?" Chuny asked Malik in a hushed voice.
"Bath-beads," he answered.
Conni huffed in disbelief.
"You didn't!"
He shrugged.
"I didn't know what else to get her!"
Lily also confessed to acquiring the same gift.
"I don't really know her that well, so....." she stammered.
Lizzie was at the desk with a form.
"Dr. Corday, what did you get Kowalski?" Chuny asked.
"I got her that green tea she likes so much," Lizzie answered.
Chuny sighed with relief.
"At least somebody got her something different. That should hold that little SOB!"
"I got her a little stationary set," Frank announced. "Canadians like those sorts of things."
"I got her a scrapbook," Gallant said.
Pratt rubbed his hands together.
"I got my hands on some Vancouver smoked salmon!"
Chen and Susan (fresh from cleaning off some more vomit) were intrigued at Pratt's apparent purchasing power.
"That's quite a gift!" Chen awed. "It's too much!"
Pratt only scowled at her.
"Nothing is too good if it came from off a ship!"
"Where did you score that?" Susan asked.
"A friend of mine who works on a ship got it for me!" Pratt revealed. "I can't wait to see Kowalski's face when I tell her what I got her!"
Susan could not resist being sarcastic.
"Yeah! Who wouldn't want something that was in a rusty cargo hold?"
Pratt ignored her, confident in the assumption that his was the right gift.
**
Ceila had an incredible smile on her face. The day being her birthday, she did not see any reason why she should feel blue. She had a skip in her step, a smile on her face and wore under her scrub shirt a changed t-shirt reading: Kiss me, I'm Ceila.
Carter saw the t-shirt. His face was alight with possible flirtation.
"You saw that!" he declared to no one in particular and pointed at her t-shirt. "She waived consent!"
Carter ran up to Ceila and planted his lips on her's. Ceila's face puckered up, completely surprised and repulsed by Carter's impromptu kiss. When their lips broke contact, Carter presented her with a gift.
"Happy birthday!"
Carter ran along, leaving Ceila holding onto a small package.
**
Ceila was still wiping the debasement of Carter's kiss when she walked into the lounge. Luka had just arrived. He was removing his coat.
"Ceila!" he cried.
Ceila was equally happy to see him.
Luka saw the present Ceila was holding.
"You have a present?'
Ceila nodded.
"Yes...." she uttered sheepishly.
"I have something for you," Luka announced.
He pushed the potted plant to her.
"Happy birthday," he said pleasantly. "It's a...hijacint...I think."
"Hyacinth," she repeated in English and smiled. She sniffed the flower. "It's beautiful. It's a spring plant."
He nodded.
"Yes."
He backed away, pleased that his gift did not offend. How could it?
"I hope you like it," Luka wished.
Ceila sniffed the fragrant flower again and touched its white, waxy buds.
"I do. Thank you."
Luka was glad to see she appreciated it.
"I suppose your friends have something planned for your birthday."
Ceila shook her head.
"Not really," she replied. "My dad thought of taking me out. He always makes a big deal out of my birthday."
"It's always good to have a reason to celebrate," Luka supposed as he placed his white coat on. "I have to get to work or I'll be back on midnights!"
Ceila smiled at him.
"Thank you, Luka."
He offered her a warm smile before leaving.
**
Pratt would not rest until he proved for once and for all that his gift of smoked salmon was the right gift to get. He approached Ceila.
"Okay, Kowalski?"
Ceila looked at him
"Yeah?"
"If you could have any wish in the world right now," Pratt asked, "aside from world peace and children singing in peace and harmony and all that- what would it be?"
Ceila shrugged.
"I don't know. A plate of smoked salmon, maybe?"
That was it.
Pratt whooped for joy and ran up and down the hall triumphant.
**
A shift of inglorious hell had ended. Ceila enjoyed her gifts- the green tea, the stationary, the endless number of bath-bead sets, the smoked salmon. Now her friend, Jeff McFarlane, offered to take her out for an evening of loud Celtic music and drinking.
"Won't Rosemary wonder where you are?" she asked.
Jeff huffed.
"Yeah. So?"
Ceila grimaced.
"Jeff, you hoser! Don't take that attitude!"
Jeff tapped Ceila on the shoulder.
"I'll phone her and tell where I am," he compromised. "I'm not going to stay, anyway."
Ceila became a little more conciliatory.
"Better."
"Put your coat on, kid," Jeff advised. "And don't let them card you at the door."
**
Abby and Carter walked into the crisp air, hands in pockets, heads bowed. They did not look at each other nor did they speak. Only the sounds of their feet dragging on the pavement of the ambulance bay could be heard.
Carter wanted to break the silence.
"Do you want to get something to eat?"
"Yeah, sure," Abby nodded disinterestedly.
"There's a Thai place," Carter suggested.
Jeff and Ceila jaunted at a quick pace. They ran into Carter and Abby. Ceila seemed a bit embarrassed by her enthusiastic gait.
"Hey!" Ceila cried. "Jeff and I were going out for some drinking and loud music! Do you want to come with?"
Abby seemed very keen on the idea.
"Yes," she responded quickly. "Yes, I do."
Carter glared at her.
"Maybe it's not such a good idea," he suggested with hidden meaning in his voice.
Abby ignored him.
"I could use a night out."
**
Things got louder as they approached. The door of the pub was pushed open.
Jeff grinned with a lit cigarette between his teeth.
"Ah, yeah! She's goin' up tonight, boys!"
Carter had no idea what that meant but he hoped it didn't involve alcohol. He took Abby by the arm.
"I'll order us some sodas and we'll sit away from the rabble. We'll talk, just you and I."
Abby released her arm from Carter's grasp and followed Jeff to the bar.
Ceila had since sat down at a booth. With a slouch creasing his shoulders, Carter shuffled to her. Ceila did not seem as distant as she had been of him. Relations had cooled between them. Carter did not seem as anxious to scold her and Ceila felt she could trust him, if only a little, after the Crowe affair.
Carter sat next to her in the booth. They did not speak but rather rested their hands on the table and remained uncomfortably silent.
Ceila broke the silence by clearing her throat and offering her thanks for the present.
"Thank you for the Chinese stress balls," she said, her blue eyes becoming as glass.
Carter smiled a little.
"I don't think you will use them."
Ceila smiled a little, as well.
"Maybe."
Silence.
"You should look out," Carter warned. "Someone might see that you're underage."
"I'm twenty-two," she said.
Carter was surprised.
"Oh! You look younger," he said. "I just thought..."
"Yeah," Ceila nodded. "I get that."
Carter nodded and the two fell into another bout of silence.
**
Jeff ordered himself and Ceila a half-pint. Abby was beside him quickly swallowing shots of whiskey. He thoroughly expected her to fall over any minute.
"Lockhart, have you had enough?" he asked.
She sneered at him.
"Not you, too!"
She staggered to the table where Carter and Ceila were sitting.
Carter could see from Abby's glassy eyes that she already had started to drink.
"I think we should leave, Abby," Carter angrily suggested. "It's getting too loud and smoky. You know how you hate cigarette smoke."
Abby stole one of Jeff's cigarettes and lit up.
Ceila turned to Carter.
"I guess not."
Carter sucked on his cheeks.
"Excuse me," he mumbled and rose from the table.
Jeff was confused by Carter's standoffish behaviour.
"What is this? WASP insecurity?"
Abby chuckled.
"Just ignore him," she slurred. "He's in a bad mood."
Ceila reached for her drink.
"I think you hurt him," she supposed. "Maybe he wanted to spend time with you."
Abby now glared at her.
"It's none of your business."
Jeff could see that Ceila was holding back an urge to act on Abby's snipe.
Ceila rose from the table.
"Then it won't be any of your business if I get up and join him!"
Abby only laughed as Ceila went to find Carter.
"Nothing's stopped you before!"
Jeff was annoyed.
"You're doing a great job alienating people, Lockhart."
Abby only puffed on her cigarette and helped herself to another drink.
**
Carter stood against the wall at the far end of the pub. Ceila approached him.
"Head back to the table with me," she asked.
"I don't think so," Carter replied.
Ceila rolled her eyes.
"Stop being such a child! You know as I do she can like a cow! Are you going to let that ruin your evening?!"
Carter was astounded by Ceila's forthrightness. Someone who said what was on their mind for a change, he thought.
"That's not it," Carter returned.
"Then what?" Ceila asked. "I swear to God, you higher-up people are all alike! Someone hurts your little feelings and you throw hissy-fits! No wonder there are revolutions!"
Carter huffed.
"I've never made my background an issue with you ever but you call me up on it! I think you do that because you need some bourgeoisie pet hate!"
Ceila's face read a "whatever" look.
"Project all you want!" she deadpanned. "And you still don't know a thing about me! Now, head back to the table and let her know you're not taking any crap from her, or be a child and sulk. It's entirely up to you."
Carter became less defensive.
"How about a third option?"
Ceila was remotely intrigued.
"Like what?"
Carter sat at an empty table.
"Sit here with me."
Ceila rolled her eyes.
"What? Look- I have Jeff waiting for me...."
Carter just sighed and tapped his fingers against the table.
"Yeah, you unWASPs are all alike- too snobbish to sit with someone who is not from the neighbourhood."
Ceila rolled her eyes again and plunked down on a seat.
"Fuck you, Carter! I swear to God!"
Carter only grinned at his evil.
**
Jeff looked at his watch. He wondered where Ceila and Carter were. He told Rosemary he would only be an hour and that was over an hour and forty-five minutes ago. Now he was stuck babysitting Abby who was out-drinking and out-smoking him.
"Don't you think you've had enough?" he asked gingerly, wary of upsetting one's binge-induced feelings.
Abby puffed on another cigarette.
"I'll tell you when I've had enough!" she snarled. She then laughed and smacked Jeff on the hand. "HA! I had you going!"
Jeff was not amused.
"You sure did."
"I like you, Jeff," Abby said as she stroked Jeff's hand. "You always say what's on your mind."
Her fingers gently rubbed over the roughness of Jeff's knuckles.
"I like that," she revealed softly.
Jeff carefully removed his hand.
"I'll call you a cab," he said as he got up yo use the phone.
Abby shook her head.
"Carter will take me home," she said. "He wouldn't leave without me."
**
Luka walked into the pub. It was noisy and crowded but through the smoke, he could see Jeff coming towards him.
"Hey!" Luka greeted him. "I thought you were with Ceila?"
Jeff was putting on his jacket.
"I was but she went to chase Carter out of crying his eyes out over Abby," Jeff explained. "By the way, she's turned into the Bride of Lushenstein. I called a cab for her."
Luka nodded slowly.
"I see. Thank you."
"Don't thank me, Boss-Fella," Jeff said. He slapped Luka on the shoulder. "Hey, I didn't thank you for the gift you gave Rosie and David. It was nice."
Luka smiled.
"I'm glad she liked it. And the baby?"
Jeff rolled his eyes.
"He likes anything he can stick in his mouth!"
Luka laughed.
"Good night, Boss-Fella," Jeff said as he went out the door.
Luka ventured further into the pub to find Ceila who was apparently trying to comfort Carter. She was there, at a table at the end of the pub, sitting chastely as Carter waved his hands, presumably trying to explain something. Luka breathed carefully. It couldn't be a repeat of Malucci. It couldn't.
"Hello," Luka said as kept his eye on the rambling Carter. "I didn't think I would see you here," he lied.
Carter had since stopped talking. Ceila was delighted to see Luka.
Luka looked right at Carter.
"Do you mind if I sit down?"
Ceila laughed.
"Luka, you don't have to ask Carter's permission to do anything! Sit!"
Carter was surprised at Ceila's ease.
Luka sat down feeling a little more confident.
"I was just explaining to Kowalski how I had to insert a guide wire into a patient once," Carter expounded.
"It's an interesting story," Ceila said. "You should hear it."
Luka crossed his hands together.
"I'm sure it is."
**
Abby could see from her booth how Ceila was cornered on either side by Carter and Luka. The girl was not oblivious to either man's attentions.
Abby pursed her lips together and hugged her hands around the pint glass.
The bartender tapped her on the shoulder.
"Hey, lady? There's a cab for you."
Abby nodded.
"Thank you," she said softly.
Abby pushed away her glass and wobbly made her way to the waiting cab.
**
Why should I blame her, that she filled my days with misery...
Carter repeated his guide wire story for Luka. For Carter, it seemed that Luka only listened out of politeness, something he did frequently. Ceila, too, listened but, then again, only as a matter-of-course. It became obvious to Carter that throughout his story, Ceila wanted to have her attention elsewhere.
Carter looked at his watch.
"I've gotta go," Carter said as he excused himself from the table. "I start early tomorrow. I should go get Abby, as well."
"I believe Jeff called a cab for her," Luka told him.
Carter raised a curious brow.
"Oh. Well..."
He looked one more time on Luka and Ceila.
"Good night."
Luka and Ceila smiled their good nights to Carter and watched as he left.
Carter put on his jacket at the door. He looked on Ceila and Luka from the distance. They were talking, even joking. She seemed genuinely happy in the company of the melancholy man. With a bowed head, Carter left in the chill of the night.
**
Abby lay her head back in the cab. It had started to hurt her.
"Hey, lady! Where do you live?" the driver asked.
Abby shot her head up.
"Take me to County General Hospital."
The driver peered at Abby through the rearview mirror.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine!" Abby snapped. "Just...take me there, please."
The driver turned to the direction of the hospital.
Abby was ready to jump out as the driver got closer to the hospital.
She threw some bills into the driver's hands, mumbled her thanks and got out of the cab.
A paramedic was in the ambulance bay going through his rig.
"Hey! Is Dr. Lewis still here?" Abby asked.
"Yeah, I think so," he answered.
Abby nodded to him and ran into the hospital to find Susan.
Susan saw Abby as she scurried down the hall. She flagged her down.
"Abby!"
Abby spun around to her.
"Susan, can I talk to you?"
Susan looked concerned.
"Yeah, sure."
"Outside," Abby directed her.
Susan followed Abby out to the ambulance bay.
Abby ran her fingers through her hair.
"I'm going out of my skull!" she cried.
Susan crossed her arms, trying to keep the chill from her body.
"Okay?"
"Wanna know why?" Abby asked.
Susan caught Abby's bloodshot eyes.
"Why?"
"Fucking Kowalski!" Abby snapped. "That's who! She's Miss Goody-Nurse-Chick of the Year or something!"
Susan laughed.
"Yeah, I hear that."
Susan breathed deeply.
"Don't let her get to you, Abby. She's just a go-getter! They come and go through here all the time!"
Abby waved her finger at Susan.
"No, she's not! She's a... a... sign of something!"
Susan doubted.
"Abby, trust me. She is not a sign of anything. She's an eager beaver. A glorified candy-striper, and once her practicum is up, things will get back to normal."
Abby's anxiety stopped. Her shoulders caved in.
"Yeah. I suppose you're right."
Abby staggered around the ambulance bay.
"What is so fucking great about her, anyway?"
Susan could see now how drunk Abby really was.
"Abby?"
Abby turned on her foot.
"I think you should go home," Susan suggested. "You need to sleep on some things."
Abby smiled.
"You're right!" she concurred. "I do!"
Abby left Susan and hailed a cab.
**
Luka and Ceila had since left the pub. They began their long walk home. They laughed as they ambled on their way.
"I didn't think you liked places like that!" Luka laughed.
Ceila offered a light explanation.
"Jeff took me."
She stopped giggling.
"I had a nice time," she admitted.
"Yes," Luka nodded uneasily. "You were with your friends..."
"Carter just wanted to sit with someone," Ceila explained. "I think he looks to tell someone how great he is. It's a sign of loneliness."
Luka shrugged.
"I wouldn't know," he ambled away with his hands in his pockets. "He doesn't talk to me."
"He talks at you," Ceila concluded. "I've seen him do it."
Ceila gathered rising nerve.
"I don't think you should let him do that."
Luka stopped walking and looked right at her.
"I know it's none of my business," she went on further, "but you are his attending and he talks to you like you're hired help. It smacks of condescension and possibly- dare I say it?- ethnocentrism. Does he think that everyone from Eastern Europe came off the boat?"
Ceila paused for a second.
"Well- my great-grandfather did, but he was escaping the Russians!"
Luka laughed and pressed his finger to Ceila's ribbon lips, which had become just a blotch of colour on her rapidly blushing face.
"I don't worry about what he says and neither should you," he said softly.
Luka removed his finger from her lips.
"We should go home," he said. "We have to work tomorrow."
Ceila now looked into his eyes.
"I don't have to work until the end of the week."
Luka looked disappointed.
"I see," he nodded. "It's still late."
Luka linked arms with Ceila and walked her home.
**
The elevator always took a long time to get to its destination.
The tendons in Romano's neck tensed and the vein in his head pulsed. Jeff Karamazov, the pediatrician, noticed this. However he may have felt Romano's anger, Jeff still had to approach the problem diplomatically.
"We need Dr. Ferguson's support, whether you like it or not!" Jeff put forth.
Romano shot back at him, pointing his finger angrily.
"That bastard has his greedy little tentacle on the board of trustees' wallet and releases it when he feels like it. Now he's the one who's squirming!"
Jeff's jaw tensed.
"He's just a little boy!"
Romano shook his head.
"I'm not gonna play chicken with a kid's life!" Romano snapped. "I may be cold, but I'm not that cold! I say we use this as an opportunity to make that bastard a little more receptive!"
Jeff now understood.
"I wish there was another way."
"Yeah, well," Romano huffed, "you know what they say about wishes and horses!"
When the elevator stopped at the tenth floor, Romano and Jeff stepped off and made their way to the conference room. There, a tallish middle-aged man with ginger-coloured hair waited at the table. He lifted his head when the men entered the room.
"I'm glad to see punctuality is still one of your strong suits, Dr. Romano," the man said coldly.
Romano returned the man's coldness.
"It always has been, Sheldon."
Jeff didn't want to get in the way of the ongoing coldness between Romano and Dr. Sheldon Ferguson. He was here for a purpose.
"Dr. Ferguson, we have matters to discuss," Jeff asserted.
Ferguson looked coldly on the young man and then sat down.
"Of course."
Romano and Jeff sat down as well.
"As you know," Jeff began, "I've been trying to bring children from Chyornobyl here for treatment of cancer- a move you have steadfastly thwarted."
Ferguson joined his fingers together.
"The board of trustees and I have found such suggestions unworkable."
"Even though there was medical staff willing to provide their services gratis," Jeff returned. "And now...."
Ferguson's face was screwed up in mounting anger.
"And now you want to use my current situation against me!"
Jeff's face was blank and his eyes glassy.
"I wouldn't think of it, Dr. Ferguson. I only wondered if, in the light of things, you had a moment to become- how shall we say?- receptive?"
Ferguson resumed his regally cold exterior.
"I shall take your suggestions up with the board of trustees, Dr. Karamazov. In the evening, you shall know our mind in full."
Jeff nodded and got up. Romano, who had remained silent for much of the meeting, glanced quickly at Jeff and then rose from the table. Both of them turned to leave.
"Dr. Romano!" Ferguson called out. "A moment, please."
Jeff cast a quick look on Romano, wary of possible fallout, and then left. If Ferguson was an octopus, Romano was a wolverine. He could take care of himself.
Ferguson rose from the table and placed his hands behind his back.
"Walk with me."
**
Ceila hurried to the chief oncologist's office with the report in hand. This was the last shift of the week and the last working hour. She wanted to go home. She hurried by patients resting in their rooms or receiving chemotherapy. Her quickened gait stopped when she saw a henna-haired woman clutching onto a small boy's hand in a private room. He was pale and a cold sweat pasted dark tousles against his head. He looked wan and thin. Another child- a girl with walnut-coloured hair- gripped the edge of her sweater's sleeve and kept her head down. Ceila peered inside, never once taking her eyes off of the children.
**
Ferguson marched through the oncology ward. Romano had to quicken his pace.
"Did you think I wouldn't recognize a Romano-engineered screw-job when I saw one, Robert?" he asked coldly.
Romano kept his eyes ahead of him.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Sheldon," he denied. "Dr. Karamazov was only trying to speak for his patients."
Ferguson only sneered.
"So you use my nephew's condition to shove the point that my fiscal responsibilities aren't to your liking?"
Again, Romano strategically denied Ferguson's claims.
"Your nephew's leukemia and Dr. Karamazov's pet project have nothing to do with one another. Coincidence, I'm sure." Now Romano was cocky. "And I would never accuse you of being- too fiscally responsible."
Ferguson sneered again.
"Tell your pediatrician- friend he'll get his funding- for now. Call it empathy."
Romano remained.
"Why, Sheldon, I would hardly accuse you of having empathy."
Ferguson had to let Romano's snide ago. He had all kinds of fish to fry.
"You!" Ferguson shouted at a tiny nurse peering into a private room. "What are you doing here? Get moving!"
The tiny nurse swivelled her head to the shouting man. Her face contorted in anger, she brushed past Ferguson, tossed a report onto the nurses' station and left the floor altogether.
Romano only looked as Ceila strode away.
**
Jeff trembled with anticipation. He knocked on Romano's door.
"Come in."
Jeff came in, his hands tensing.
Romano was working at his desk.
"Well? What did he say?" Jeff panted.
"You've got your funding," Romano answered. "For now," he added with great weight. "His words, not mine."
Jeff nodded.
"And his nephew?"
Romano put down his pen.
"He needs a bone marrow transplant. Dr. Ferguson thinks one can be found here."
"Doesn't the boy have a twin sister?" Jeff asked.
"Yes," Romano answered, "but she is only a ninety-eight percent match."
Jeff rubbed his brow.
"If the boy's sister can't be used as a donor, I wonder why Dr. Ferguson thinks a perfect match can be found here."
Romano shrugged.
"Don't know. Maybe he knows something we don't."
**
Lizzie was already battle-weary and it wasn't even five o'clock. She had a bowel resection in the morning (after leaving a cranky Ella with the nanny), an emergency appendectomy and was on call in the ER which, especially today, was in great need of her. She certainly was in no mood for bother.
"Dr. Corday!"
Lizzie huffed and screwed her eyes shut.
"Yes, Dr. Kovac?"
Luka ran up to her.
"I need to speak to you about Student Nurse Kowalski."
Lizzie kept walking.
"Student nurse from Canada, tattoos, earrings...." she rattled off.
Luka kept pace with Lizzie.
"Yes, that's her."
"What about her?" Lizzie asked disinterestedly.
"You wrote comments for her evaluation," Luka began.
"I did," Lizzie confirmed. "I thought her rotation in surgery went well. Very well, in fact. I've rarely encountered such an inquisitive- and colourful- student."
"Yes," Luka nodded. "I wrote comments, too. She does a very good job in the ER."
Lizzie seemed a bit surprised that Luka had done as much. He wasn't the kind to put his thoughts forth. She let this fact slide for the moment.
"What is this about, Dr. Kovac?"
Luka seemed hesitant to say.
"She approached me...."
Lizzie was very interested.
"Really? She approached you?"
"She was worried about a negative comment," Luka explained defensively. "She thought I gave it to her. I didn't, of course, and you didn't. No one else has any real complaints about her...except Dr. Ferguson."
Lizzie raised a curious brow.
"That's odd. He has nothing whatsoever to do with students- or patients, for that matter. Why would he add his comments?"
Luka shook his head
"I don't know. I was hoping you could find out."
Lizzie stopped in her tracks.
"You want me to find out?! That man is a lion! He would eat me for breakfast!"
"But you work more closely with him than I do," Luka implored.
Lizzie huffed.
"I met him once and I didn't relish the experience!"
Luka was adamant.
"Please."
He remembered how Ceila approached him that morning. She was much paler than usual and she wrung her hands.
"I work as hard as the other nurses do," she said in a shaky voice.
"You work harder," he answered.
"Then why am I being treated like this? Am I doing something wrong? This comment could ruin my chances of finishing with top honours and future employment!"
Luka could only look at Ceila. This was important to her, so important that her stoic shield could no longer protect her. He had seen her take abuse, work longer hours and do more difficult work. She lived for the work that the emergency department thrived on. She was made for the work. It should be only fair that she be allowed to continue.
"I'll find out," Luka promised her.
Ceila still looked pale but felt a little better.
Luka implored Lizzie one more time.
"Will you help?"
Lizzie was torn. She wanted to help Ceila but did not wish to incur the ire of Dr. Ferguson, who was notorious for coming down on those who opposed him.
"How can I contradict his comments, however misplaced they may be?"
Luka clenched his jaw. His brow furrowed in anger.
"If you won't help then I'll do it myself!"
Luka turned from Lizzie. She grabbed his arm before he could storm off.
"Alright!" Lizzie breathed deeply. "I'll do it but we have to have a plan and a unified front. I don't like being on the wrong side of this man's temper!"
Luka nodded.
**
Jeff peered at Dr. Ferguson's nephew. The clock was ticking for the child, once a vibrant little boy, now a pale child with strands of black hair pasted to his forehead.
Romano approached Jeff.
"How's the kid?" he gingerly asked.
"He needs the transplant now!" Jeff declared without taking his eyes off the boy.
"He's in luck, then," Romano said. "A match has been found. Right here."
Jeff was amazed.
"Who?"
"Kowalski," Romano answered. "Carter found out."
Romano looked at the boy once.
"I guess Ferguson's instincts were right."
**
Midnight.
Ceila crept through the oncology ward. She didn't want to be seen. Indeed, no one would have suspected her. She should have left the hospital hours ago. She snuck into the room where Dr. Ferguson's nephew lay sleeping. The boy's parents had taken the other child, a shy girl, home with them for the night. Ceila looked at the boy's chart. Hutchinson, Isaac. She sat next to his bed and took his hand as gently as she was able.
"Hello, Isaac," she whispered. "I've heard an awful lot about you."
Ceila plucked a damp tousle from Isaac's forehead.
"Why did you have to become sick? Hhmmmmm?"
Ceila's shoulders sank. Isaac did not move. His chest only heaved slightly with breath. Ceila wondered how the little boy could be so afflicted. He should have been climbing trees or collecting rocks, she thought. Was his illness random or a punishment from something not yet atoned?
Ceila could hear heavier breathing behind. She saw reflected in the sidebars of the bed that Carter was standing in the doorway with a chart in his hand.
"I've been looking for you," he said in a low, soft voice.
"I've been keeping out-of-sight," she answered without lifting her eyes from Isaac.
"I have the results from the blood test," Carter answered.
Ceila only nodded slightly.
"You're a match," Carter explained. "You're an unbelievable match. You..."
Ceila gripped onto the sleeping Isaac's hand.
"So you think I should undergo the procedure right away?" she interrupted.
Carter only looked at her.
"It would be good, yeah."
Ceila nodded.
"Good," she breathed shakily. "The sooner we can get this kid's life back to the way it was, the better."
** The sky had become angry and the days seemed longer. Luka hadn't seen Ceila in days, not since the bone marrow transplant. So much had transpired since then. He had spoken to Dr. Ferguson and Isaac was recovering. She needn't be afraid.
Luka went to her flat and banged on her door. She had not answered the phone nor her e-mail. Her parents had seen her twice, saying that she wanted to rest and not be seen. Luka could not be that patient. He banged on the door again. Just then, it started to rain.
"Govno!" he cussed.
The door was jarred open. Ceila appeared before him in drab, heavy bed-clothes, looking wan and worn, her eyes reddened and her thick black hair unbrushed and knotted. She tried in vain to make her hair more appealing by brushing through it with her hand.
"Dr. Kovac, I wasn't expecting you," she whimpered.
The rain pelted down. Luka became drenched in a matter of seconds.
"You're wet," she noticed weakly. "Come in."
"Are you alright?" he finally asked.
Ceila tried to make her hair presentable again.
"I'm getting over the procedure," she answered automaton.
"That's not what I meant," Luka returned.
He stepped in the doorway. He brushed a curl from Ceila's head.
"I meant...."
Luka swallowed hard.
"Years ago, my family....they died....."
Ceila avoided Luka's eyes.
"Why are you telling me this? I can't help you."
Luka stepped back, his face and hair wet with rain.
"I don't want you to help me. I just wanted to let you know."
Ceila stepped away from Luka.
"You know..." he stuttered. "You can tell me things. Anything. Just to say."
Ceila opened the door a bit more.
"Come in," she implored. "Please."
Luka obliged her and disappeared into the dry warmth of her home.
**
Ceila returned to work two weeks later. She seemed her bright, chipper self, ready to take orders and do the scut work the other nurses didn't want to do. They called her Nurse Cinderella. She didn't notice. She just did her job and disappeared into the lounge, when she had a moment, to drink her green tea.
Luka started his shift in the morning. He saw that she was back. Breath failed to leave his lips.
"Ceila!"
Ceila put down her cup of tea.
"Dr. Kovac!"
The two faced one another, awkwardly, like something unresolved halted them.
Luka waved his hand over her.
"You're all better?"
Ceila nodded.
"Yeah."
She shoved her hands in her back pockets.
"You're still working mornings?" she asked.
Luka nodded.
"Yeah."
Silence.
"Thank you for seeing me," she said softly. "When..."
Luka nodded again.
"I wanted to see you again," he answered.
More silence.
There was that sheen in her eyes again.
"Luka, I need to ask you something," she breathed.
Luka waited without breath.
"Where did you get the hyacinth?" she asked.
The breath came back.
"A garden..." Luka mumbled with hints of anti-climax in his voice.
"I only ask because my mum wants to know," Ceila explained. "I'm not trying to be rude or anything because....well, just because. The hyacinth was a gift, and a lovely gift, but my mum is starting to put her garden in and she wondered when she came by where I got the hyacinth, so...."
Luka put his hands in his pockets.
"I can show you," he offered. "After work. There is a place on the outskirts. A really nice greenhouse. My friend owns it."
Ceila nodded.
"Yes. Thank you. At seven, then?"
Luka nodded without looking into her eyes.
"Yes."
**
"You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
They called me the hyacinth girl."
-Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing...
The rain pelted the city once more.
Luka and Ceila ran from the car to the only light they saw- the one in the greenhouse- in hopes of finding relief from the rain. Once inside, Ceila looked around.
"Where is your friend?"
"Not here," Luka answered as he brushed droplets of rain from him. "She goes home for the night at six-thirty."
Ceila was baffled.
"She just leaves this place unlocked? Isn't she worried that someone could steal something?"
Luka shrugged.
"What? There are no TVs or money. What could they steal? A plant?"
Ceila could see Luka's point.
"But we're on our own," she saw. "Can we just take something?"
"I called her before," Luka supplied. "She'll know."
"Okay then," Ceila exhaled as she looked about. "I guess we should pick up a hyacinth and get going."
Luka nodded and started to look.
"Okay. You wanted a pink hyacinth."
When he turned to Ceila, he saw she wasn't inside. He could see from the window that she had gone outside to see the rose-of-Sharon growing on the trellis. He could not breathe. He slowly walked outside and crept to her.
Luka could see her in the rain. She plucked a rose-of-Sharon blossom and placed it in her hair. She stood on her toes to smell the flowers on the trellis. Just then Luka saw that she was more beautiful than anything. Her black curly hair was like wet silk draping over her shoulders. Her floral print cotton dress clung to her body. Luka kept moving toward Ceila. Her eyes, blue and vapid, stared at him, not knowing what to think.
Luka took her face in his hands and pressed his lips to her's. She did not resist. Her body became limp, held up only by Luka's hands. He pressed his body to her's. They fell under the weight of it. It was under the rain-drenched pink blossoms that he made love to her.
**
Even though it had stopped raining, both Luka and Ceila were soaked to the skin and smudged with freshly-dug soil. Luka picked Ceila up and placed her in the car. He drove into the city to her apartment. Only the outside lights shone on the inside. Luka placed her down on the bed and started to remove her wet clothing. She grasped his wrists.
"Stay."
Without thinking, he pulled away the last of her clothing and started to remove his. Ceila lost her hands in his dark hair and shut her eyes tightly. She could hear him breathing and feel the heat of his breath on her neck. She completely surrendered when she could feel him inside her.
**
He went to work in the morning, still thinking of her. His eyes were dull, his heart heavy. He was lost in revery. It was noticed. Now subject to the conjecture of others, he left sullen. He went back to his apartment. He waited. His hands twitched and his breath was bated. He picked up the phone.
"I need you."
She dropped her phone and sprinted to his apartment. He opened the door three times to see if she had come. The third time she was there. She locked herself in an embrace with him and they tumbled into his bedroom, shearing off their clothes, suckling each other's lips and pulling each other's bodies closer together so that every part touched and entered. He rolled over her, pressing his manhood against her skin, joining himself with her. He enjoyed the cool velvet of her skin, the roundness of her breasts, the muscles of her arms. She arched her back and gripped the bars of the headrest, expelling excited air. There was nothing in this world but him right now and she relished it.
*
Author's note: this story uses lines from the poems by Hwang Chin-i, Michael Ondaatje, WB Yeats, TS Eliot.
