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FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING |
The Calm Before The Storm (Chapter 5) |
Jerry went in search of Kerry after talking to one of the EMTs over the radio. Usually, there was an urgency to his steps when he had to announce an incoming MVA. Tonight, however, there was no rush.
He didn't have to go looking very far. Kerry approached the admit area with a patient chart in hand. "Jerry, any word on the labs yet for Mr. Pickford?"
"No, not yet. I just got a call over the radio. There's a DOA coming in soon."
"What happened?"
He shrugged. "Car accident. That's all I know."
"Just the single victim?"
"Yeah. I'll let you know when they arrive?" He sat down in front of the computer, returning to the work he'd been doing before being interrupted by the crackle of radio static.
"That's fine. I'm going to look in on Mrs. Milton in Curtain 2. And Jerry, could you call the lab and find out what's taking so long?"
"Sure, Dr. Weaver."
Several minutes later, the double doors of the ambulance bay were pushed open by a gurney.
"Man, you must be kidding me!" Eric exclaimed, giving his partner a disgusted look. "So what did you say to her?"
The other paramedic named Chris was grinning as they pushed the gurney along, coming to a stop in front of the admit desk. "I'll tell you later."
Jerry stood up after saving the document he'd been working on. He looked over at the EMTs. "Is this the DOA guy?"
"Yeah, this would be him," Eric said, a little dryly. "Didn't you notice we weren't exactly in a hurry?"
"Whatever. So what happened to him?" Jerry peered over the counter to look at the victim. The guy looked really smashed up.
"There were a couple of witnesses who were standing at a bus stop. They said the guy took the corner too fast and lost control. He ended up wrapped around a tree. He must've died on impact. It took an hour with the jaws to pry him outta the car," Chris answered.
"He just barely missed plowing into the two witnesses," Eric added. "They were pretty lucky. And pretty shook up."
"No kidding. Did you find any ID on him?" Jerry asked.
"Yeah, in his wallet," Eric replied. "Bradford Prescott."
Chris gave Jerry a quizzical look. "Hey, you ok? You don't look so good."
Jerry gulped, hoping he'd heard wrong. "What was the guy's name?"
"Bradford Prescott," Eric repeated. "Why, you know him?"
"Uh, yeah. Sort of," Jerry muttered, wondering what he should do. Geez, this was bad. Real bad.
"He was a friend of yours?"
"What? No, not really." Jerry went through the doorway to join them in the outer hallway. He looked at the body more closely. The face was covered in blood, swollen, and lacerated, but it was still recognizable. He'd been hoping it was purely coincidence, and that someone with the exact same name as the Bradford Prescott he knew had died. But they were one and the same. Poor Lucy.
"So where do you want him?" Chris asked, a little impatiently. His shift was almost over and he was looking forward to going home.
"Uh, put him in Trauma 3."
The gurney was wheeled away and Jerry dashed over to Curtain 2. "Dr. Weaver!"
"Just a minute, Jerry." Kerry didn't even look up as she concentrated on Mrs. Milton. She smiled at the older woman reassuringly. "Of course, I'll try calling him again. I'm sure he'll be here soon."
"Thank you, doctor," Mrs. Milton said faintly, closing her eyes with a sigh.
Kerry patted her hand. "I'll be back soon." She drew the curtain around the bed and finally faced Jerry, noticing his agitation. "What is it?"
"It's Brad! I can't believe he's dead! What are we gonna do? Should we call her first? I don't know what.."
"Jerry!" she said sharply, reaching out to grab his arm. He abruptly closed his mouth and blinked at her. "You're rambling. Slow down, and tell me what's wrong."
He took a breath and tried again. "Remember the DOA? It's Brad. Lucy's boyfriend. They just brought him in now."
Kerry didn't show any outward reaction to the news. She remained perfectly calm. "What happened to him?" Jerry informed her of everything the paramedics had just told him. "Where's the body?" she asked.
"I told the EMTs to put him in Trauma 3." Jerry was somewhat relieved now that Kerry was taking charge of the situation.
"Well, we can't leave him there. Call Transpo and have someone move him to the morgue." She paused. "You're sure it's him?"
"Yeah. I recognized him."
"Do you know his family at all?"
"No. But I'm sure Lucy does."
Kerry looked thoughtful. "Ok, page Lucy and get her down here. But don't let her know what's happened. Make something up."
"What should I do when she gets here?"
"Find me. I'll talk to her." He turned to walk away and she called out, "Jerry!" He glanced back at her, and she said quietly, "Does anyone else know about this?"
"No."
"Good. Let's keep this to ourselves for now, please."
He nodded. For once, he wasn't anxious to start gossiping. Not about this.
***************
What was that incessant beeping?
Lucy moaned and turned on her side. In her dream, she'd been driving Brad home and honking the car horn...
She slowly came to realize that her pager was beeping. Moaning out loud again, she turned on the small lamp next to her bed. Rubbing at her eyes, she picked up the pager and waited for several seconds until the numbers came into focus. Of course it was the ER. Who else would be paging her now?
She punched the speed dial button and flopped back against the pillows, the phone to her ear. She recognized Jerry's voice when he answered. "It's Lucy. This had better be good." Her voice was gravelly and she sounded cranky to her own ears.
"Yeah, there's a real crisis here and we're short-handed. You have to come down right away."
"I don't suppose I have a choice."
"Um, not really. Dr. Weaver specifically asked for you."
"Great." Lucy looked at the time on her clock radio. At least the El was still running. "I'll be there in about half an hour."
"Ok, Lucy. Sorry 'bout this."
"Yeah, yeah." She hung up and and rolled over on her back, staring up at the ceiling. She could feel her eyelids growing heavier again, and realized she'd better get up before she drifted back to sleep.
Going into the bathroom, she deliberately avoided looking in the mirror. She didn't need to know how bad she looked. After splashing cold water on her face, running a brush through her hair, and pulling on some warm clothes, she was ready. Well, as ready as she would ever be. It wasn't often that she was called into work like this, but it did happen occasionally. It was just part of the job.
After locking her door, she looked at the closed door of Carter's apartment. It was strange to think he was living there now. The idea still took some getting used to. She had to admit, she'd appreciated his support when Brad had been acting like a total...
She forced herself to stop the thought there. She didn't want to think about Brad. It only made her confused and unhappy. She knew she had to make a decision soon about what to do, but it didn't have to be tonight.
As Lucy walked down the silent corridor, she wondered if Carter had also been called in to the ER. Maybe he was already down there. Or maybe he was snugly asleep in his own bed, having pleasant dreams. Since he had been so kind to her earlier, she magnanimously hoped the latter was true.
***************
The nurses gathered at the admit desk burst out laughing at Chuny's joke. This night shift was proving to be a slow one. A couple of traumas had come in earlier, but nothing for the past hour or so. A few people were in chairs. Most of them were waiting for relatives to be treated and released.
Chuny looked over at Jerry. He had a magazine open on the desk, but was staring into space. "Hey, you didn't laugh at my joke!" She smiled at him, but he obviously hadn't heard her. "Jerry?"
"Huh?" He finally glanced over at her.
"What's wrong with you tonight? You look like your best friend died."
"It's nothing," he mumbled, turning his attention back to the magazine.
Chuny gave Lydia and Lily a look, and shrugged.
"Ok, here I am," Lucy announced, pulling off her gloves as she approached the desk. "Where's the big emergency?"
"Lucy!" Jerry exclaimed. He stood up so quickly, the stool beneath him almost overturned before he steadied it. Four pairs of female eyes looked at him strangely. He reddened and stammered, "Uh... just wait right here, Lucy. I'm gonna go get Dr. Weaver."
He practically sprinted down the hallway while the others stared after him.
"That man gets more and more strange every day," Lydia commented, with a shake of her head.
Lucy unzipped her coat and glanced around. This certainly didn't seem like a crisis. She was going to kill Jerry if this was some sort of false alarm. Then again, he had said that Dr. Weaver specifically asked for her, so maybe something was going on.
"What are you doing here, Lucy?" Chuny asked curiously. "Your shift isn't starting now, is it?"
"I was paged," Lucy replied. "I'm gonna hang up my coat in the lounge. Can you tell Dr. Weaver where I am if she comes looking for me?"
"Sure," Chuny answered. She had a puzzled frown on her face. There was definitely something weird going on here, but she didn't know what it was.
***************
Kerry stood outside the lounge door and took several long breaths. This was going to be very difficult. She didn't know how deep the relationship between Brad and Lucy had been, but regardless, it was going to be disturbing news for her. She had thought about various ways of telling her, but had decided it would be best to be blunt. Gentle, but blunt. She had no way of guessing how Lucy was going to react, so she was prepared for the worst.
Pushing open the door, she found Lucy sitting by the table. First, she noticed that Lucy had changed into her lab coat. Second, she thought that Lucy looked extremely tired. She had dark smudges under her eyes and her pallor didn't look good. And this night was only going to get worse for her, poor girl.
"Hi, Lucy."
"Dr. Weaver." Lucy didn't return the older woman's smile. "What's going on? Why was I paged here when there obviously isn't any sort of crisis?"
Kerry came to sit down beside her, pulling the chair closer to Lucy. "You're right. And don't blame Jerry. It was my idea to tell you that. But I do need to speak with you, Lucy." She regarded the girl seriously.
Lucy almost wanted to look away from Kerry, but couldn't. She could read sadness in the woman's eyes and she didn't know what that meant. "You're scaring me. What's wrong?" she asked nervously.
Kerry took her hand. "It's about Brad. Brad Prescott. He was brought in earlier tonight, DOA. Apparently, he lost control of his car and crashed into a tree. He died on impact. There was nothing that could be done for him. I'm truly sorry, Lucy."
Lucy found that she couldn't speak. She wanted to shout, 'What? What are you talking about? How can he be dead?', but she didn't say a word. She looked down at their joined hands, and pulled away from Kerry's grasp. She clasped her hands in her lap and still remained silent.
A minute passed and Kerry finally spoke. "Lucy, are you all right?"
Lucy's head jerked involuntarily at the sound of her voice, and she gazed down at her hands. She noted somewhat detachedly that her knuckles were white. "You're sure it's Brad?" she whispered, her voice shaking slightly.
Kerry nodded, wishing there was some doubt in her mind. But she'd taken a look at the body herself and had made sure there was no sign of life. Although she hadn't known Brad well, she'd seen him with Lucy on several occasions. There was no mistake. "Jerry and I both recognized him. We also have his ID from his wallet."
"Can I see him?"
Kerry hesitated. "He's already been moved to the morgue." She quickly added, "The reason I asked you to come down here, is to ask if you know how to contact his next of kin."
Lucy was trying to focus on what Kerry was saying, but her mind was swirling with disconnected thoughts. What had she said? Oh, contacting family. "Uh, his mother died a few years ago. His father lives in Chicago, but I don't know his phone number. Oh, but my mother would know. I could call her."
"Would you do that? It would be a great help." Kerry realized that Lucy was acting with unnatural calm. People dealt with grief in different ways. The full impact of Brad's death probably hadn't hit her yet, and there was no way of knowing when it would happen.
"I'll call her right now."
Lucy mechanically moved towards the phone, and Kerry said, "Take your time, Lucy. I'll be right back."
Kerry stepped outside and almost bumped into Jerry. He looked down at her anxiously. "How did she take it?" he asked.
"Pretty well. A little too well. I'm worried about her," she said honestly.
"Well, the police are here. They want to talk to someone."
"I'll talk to them. Can you try to deter anyone from using the lounge right now? Lucy's just calling her mother."
"Yeah, no problem," Jerry replied. He wondered if Lucy and Brad had been in love.
***************
"Are you sure, honey? I could be there on a flight first thing this morning."
"No, Mom. There's nothing you could do right now."
Lucy was trying to convince her mother not to fly in to Chicago. There really was no need, at this point, though she'd most certainly come to the funeral. Her mom had looked up Mr. Prescott's address and phone number, and Lucy had written it down on a scratch pad kept by the phone. She doodled on the paper, making endless circles as she listened to her mother. She finally interrupted her in mid-sentence. "I'm sorry, Mom, but I have to go. I've got to get this phone number to someone."
"Of course. Are you absolutely sure I shouldn't come right away?"
"I'm sure. I'll call you later, ok?"
"Ok, Lucy. I love you."
"I love you too. Bye."
Lucy ripped the top sheet from the pad of paper, and went into the hallway. Jerry was standing right by the lounge door.
"Hey," he said softly.
"Hey yourself. What are you doing just standing there?"
"Dr. Weaver asked that I stand guard so you weren't disturbed. So you talked to your mom?"
"Uh huh." Lucy's attention was diverted by a couple of police officers that were talking to Dr. Weaver further down the hall. "The police are here?"
Jerry followed Lucy's gaze. "Yeah. I guess they want more details about what happened."
Lucy was fairly certain the police would want to question her. After all, she was the last person who'd seen Brad alive; assuming the accident had happened directly after leaving her apartment.
That's when the thought hit her, or rather, it slammed into her like a truck. This was her fault. She had been so upset by Brad's behaviour towards her in her apartment, that she'd kicked him out and let him drive drunk. She had been so concerned about him not driving when they'd left the restaurant, and yet the thought had never occurred to her when he'd left her apartment. How could she have let that happen?
*Because I was angry and upset. He almost assaulted me!* one part of her mind argued.
*But he didn't deserve to die over it. I'm responsible for this!* the other part accused.
Lucy felt sick. She could feel Jerry's eyes on her and she looked up at him. "Did you say something?" she asked weakly.
"I just asked if you're ok."
"Yeah, I'm fine," she lied. "Listen, can you give this to Dr. Weaver?" She handed him the slip of paper. "It has Mr. Prescott's, Brad's father's, address and phone number."
He looked at the note, then glanced down at her. "Why don't you give it to her yourself?"
"There's something I have to do." She started backing down the hall. "I'll be back soon."
"Where are you going, Lucy?" Jerry called after her, concerned about how she was behaving.
She ignored him and ran down the hall. She only had one destination in mind.
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