"Your leg seems to be healing quite well, Ms.Weaver." The doctor said as he smiled and removed his warm, gloved hands from her limb. "The farm air must be doing you some good."
Kerry stared the man in the eyes, unable to look at her mangled leg. Pasty and shriveled from the removal of the plaster, deep reddish scars ran lengthwise down her shin and calf muscle.
Dimpled and distorted, the skin wrinkled and twisted down the leg as it reached the remains of her foot. The foot itself twisted inwards, when she'd stand on it, her toes brushing the side of her good leg, when she walked. The biggest toe twisted inward and touched the second one beside. Her middle toe curved under onto the knuckle, causing her immense pain when she attempted to walk. After many surgeries, the curvature of the toe was corrected and the twist of the foot was corrected with a brace, but even on damp days it still ached. As for the rest of her toes, the second last was amputated off at the second knuckle and her littlest toe had been amputated completely.
The doctors had bit back revulsion as they'd removed the remnants of her shoe, the toe had hung on valiantly by sparse tendons and skin, but it was lifeless and useless and the doctors had taken it upon themselves to get rid of it.
Slowly Kerry looked down, her hand wrapped in Mlungisi's as she burst into tears.
"Can you excuse us for a moment, sir?" The doctor said gravely, looking the young man in the eye and urging him to leave. Kerry wrapped her arms around his and held on for dear life as the doctor sighed. "Please.. Ms.Weaver.. It will only be for a moment."
She looked at Mlungisi, fearful. Her hair had been braided into plaits and fell down her shoulders, smooth and tanned, muscled from the work of shoveling outdoor pens. The doctor hurried, disposed of the plaster.. It had absorbed too many smells of the farm. None of them pleasant.
Freckles dotted her nose and cheeks, her make-up simply applied, accentuating her eyes and high cheekbones. She sat on the gurney, full of terror, wearing a tight white tee-shirt and a pair of baggy grey brushed cotton shorts. Kerry stared at the mutilated foot and quickly surmised that her sandal wearing days were over.
Kerry watched wistful, as Mlungisi left the room and the doctor stood, closing the door and drawing the blind. "Ms.Weaver. Have you considered your options? Mlungisi has informed me of your wishes to become a trauma doctor. I assure you, that it would be quite difficult with your disability, but with the right assistance, whether it be a cane or an artificial limb.. A correctly molded orthodic would aid your walking immensely. If we take the correct steps to your recovery and reintegration into the programme.. Then succeeding in the field of ER medicine is quite possible."
"Thank you.. Dr?"
"Lawrence.. Gabe Lawrence." He smiled and busied himself with the papers on his lap. "I was actually going to ask you... What would you say if I offered you a place at the medical school here in the city? The first year is mainly bookwork. I could help you with what ever you needed."
"I don't know what to say.." Kerry said quietly as she stared down at her hands.
Gabe Lawrence sighed, handing the woman her crutches. "Say yes.. Say you'll stay and go to school."
**
"We have him on a steady IV drip and have sutured the head wound. Your husband will be fine, Ms.Ross." The doctor smiled comfortingly and patted Carol's hand.
The woman watched him with wide, reddened eyes and withdrew her hand, sticking it firmly in her pocket. "I'm sure he will be.. Thank you, Doctor."
**
"Hey.. Carol.."
The man ran frantically down the street, his shoelaces flapping and flying in the puddles and his Bulls jersey splattered with mud. "Carol.. Wait up.. Please.. I didn't mean it." He smiled as she slowed to a determined walk and finally stopped on a park bench, a few hundred feet ahead of him.
"You're a disgusting asshole, Douglas Ross." Carol grumbled, folding her arms across her chest and glaring at daisy that dared to bloom against the legs of the bench. Roughly she grabbed it and started tearing off the petals. As she angrily picked at the fleshy yellow center with a fingernail, Doug walked up from behind and set his hand on her shoulder.
"You called me Douglas.. Not even my Mom calls me Douglas.." He said with surprise, working his hand into knot in her shoulder.
She moaned softly, turning her head into his touch. "I.. I still can't believe you did that.. You could have gotten killed.. Just because those jerks dared you.."
"So I jumped off the pier.. It's not that high.." He muttered, running a hand through his damp, mucky hair.. He really needed a shower.
"You're drunk Doug.. It was stupid.. Really stupid.. I don't care how much you hate those guys..." Carol sighed, standing up and letting the pieces of flower fall to the ground.
"You saw how they treated Mark.. It's not fair that he gets his ass kicked all the time.. I was just sticking up for him." Doug grumbled as he walked a few steps behind her, following her as she walked to nowhere in particular.
"You wanted to stick up for him, and so you jumped into four feet of mucky water off of a fifty-foot high pier. I really don't see the logic in that Doug.." Carol said exasperated as she walked down the sidewalk, staring at her sandled feet. Peach Pizazz nail polish had been delicately applied by Lori earlier that evening. The younger sibling had been bribed into helping Carol sneak out of the house in exchange for being allowed to paint Carol's toes.
"They said I was a wimpshit for hanging out with a guy like Mark.. I wanted to prove them wrong." He sighed, rubbing a hand across his eyes. His head was starting to hurt, why had he decided to chase after her again? Doug couldn't remember.
"They called YOU a wimpshit? Oh.. So you were defending YOUR honour.. Not Mark's.. Mark wasn't even there I bet.. All this crap about Mark.. Doug.. I can't do this anymore... I can't keep doing this.." She said her voice strained and filled with sadness.
"Mark was there! They.." He trailed off.
"They what?" Carol questioned, turning around and looking at the young man that was caked with mud and soaking wet. "What did they do to him Doug??" She said threateningly.
"They threw him in after me.." Doug mumbled under his breath.
"They what!? Doug.... Where is he? Is he okay?" She looked behind him, for any sign of the army brat.
"He's fine.. His pride's a little wounded, he's covered in seaweed and mud, but he's okay. Mark went home.. Said his Dad was going to kill him for being late for curfew." He sighed, sitting back on a bus-stop bench and massaging his knee.
"Curfew? It's only eight o'clock.. It's not even dark yet.." Carol said confused, as the haze of the summer night settled over them. A cool breeze washed over their bare arms and she shivered.
"He had his curfew moved to eight.. We went out drinking last week.. I sorta got Mark plastered.. I mean.. I knew the guy couldn't hold his liquor, but I never knew four beers could hit a guy so hard... He slept it off on my Mom's couch till around three and said he should get home before his parents started to worry.. His Dad was sitting on the porch with the rifle across his knees."
"Ouch.. He's okay though.. Right? You shouldn't have done that Doug.. I mean it's bad enough that you do it.. You've seen what it did to your Dad.. Why risk yourself and your friends? You're not even 21 yet and you're already a drunk." Carol said tears welling up.
Doug sighed, hunched over on the bench, his fingers clasped over his head. "You know I love you.. Right?"
"Yes Doug. I know.." She replied softly, as she took a seat beside her boyfriend and pulled his hand into hers.
***
"Mark? Honey... Please.. Wake up.. Everyone's worried about you.." Elizabeth said tearfully as Dave came up behind her..
"He's sleeping off a hangover, Dr.C.. I think it's best that you let him sleep. I found that letting the person sleep it off.. They're a lot less pissed off at you later." He said helpfully, grinning as the surgeon whipped around and glared at him.
"What in the hell would you know about it!? You.. You.. Little.. Nuisance.. Leave the relationships to those who've had them. Don't go talking about something you know nothing about, Malucci. Having a quickie with the ER Chief does not make you a relationship expert." She hissed tearfully.
"But... I.." Dave stammered, reddening.
"Get away from me.. Get away from us.." Elizabeth spat as he backed away and out of the room.
"F-fine.. I'm going.." Dave faltered in the doorway before turning around and leaving. "Bitch.." He muttered sadly as he stumbled to the waiting area, flopped into a chair and burst into tears.
***
"Dave.. I've gotta go.." Serena said as she shook her husband's sleeping form in the bed.
"G-go where??" Dave murmured sleepily. "Y-yer not going anywhere.. Bush planting today.." He whispered, half-asleep, his eyes still closed.
"Out.. I'm going out.. I met some friends in the bar downstairs.. We're going out.." Serena said as she pulled on a blouse and buttoned it.
"What do you mean, 'out'!? Serena.. I don't think that's a good idea. You don't know who those people are.. You just got out of the hospital." He said worriedly, as he started to wake up.
"Dave! Ever since I got out of the hospital, you've been acting like I've got a terminal disease! I fell off a chair and hit my head.. I don't have Diphtheria.. I'm going out for a few beers with some of the guys from the plane.. Get over yourself.. Stay and get some sleep.. I'll be back in the morning before we have to go to the fields.. Okay?" She said, kissing her husband on the forehead and brushing some of the sleep from his eyes.
Guys from the plane? A few beers?? Get over myself? Stay and sleep?? Dave sighed, brain injuries did screwy things with people.. Serena was not the woman he married.. He missed the closeness, the warmth of her touch, her laugh.. Slowly he closed his eyes and shuddered as the images of his wife toppling from the chair in a horrifying continuous loop.
****