by Claire Adams
"Good question, Ms. Pierce," she said. "Let's talk about the differences!"
For the next half hour, Professor Jackson laid out the various ways in which we could differentiate between irritations and actual infections as I scribbled notes as fast as I could. She covered bacterial, viral, and fungal skin infections in detail explaining that when in doubt, we should always ask for a second opinion from someone who is outside of the case. She explained that sometimes the caretakers working on a case were too close to see things clearly, so it was always good to get a second set of eyes on the problem.
"In closing, I'd recommend that you also remember that while it is tempting to go for the most complex diagnosis," she said looking around the room, "often the right answer is the simplest answer. Now, I want to remind you that we have exams coming up at the end of the term, and you'll need to score 90% or higher in order to move on to the next level of your training. This means you need to hit the books, ladies and gentlemen."
"Why is she looking at me?" Liz grumbled as we packed up our things, pulled on our coats and gloves, and got ready to head to our next class.
"Maybe she can sense that you are a lost soul who needs saving?" I teased as we walked across campus toward the hall where our psychology class was held. It was freezing outside, but the sun was shining and it reflected off of the fresh snow, making the campus look like a winter wonderland. Chicago could be brutally cold in the winter, but days like this, the ones just before we turned the corner and headed toward spring, were the ones I loved best.
"Maybe she needs to focus on straightening out the attitude of little Miss Rich Girl," Liz said, flipping her ponytail. "I'm not the problem, she is."
"Maybe Professor Jackson has given up trying to teach Violet anything because Violet doesn't see the value in learning," I suggested, pulling my scarf more tightly around my neck as the wind picked up. "She's right about the fact that she's not going to have to work in the field like the rest of us will, so why expend energy trying to make her see things differently?"
"Good point," Liz muttered as she reached around and dug into her backpack with one hand, pulling out a tube of lipstick and then proceeding to freshen the color as we walked.
"I cannot for the life of me understand how you do that," I said admiringly. "I'd have it all over my face if I tried that."
"Eh, it's not so difficult once you get the hang of it," Liz said as she started to instruct me in the art of walking and applying lipstick.
"You really should reconsider learning that skill," a voice behind us said. I turned and found Violet Metzler walking five feet behind us with a knowing look on her face. Little puffs of frozen air drifted from her mouth as she sneered, "It's so tacky and common."
"Well, Vi, takes one to know one," Liz said as she turned and stared at Violet while she continued to walk backwards.
"Funny, Baker," Violet said in a voice that indicated she thought it was anything but funny. "You really should spend more time focusing on your studies and less on your appearance, since you really only have hope of improving the former."
"Why you--," Liz growled as I quickly grabbed her arm and squeezed it hard.
"Ladies, ladies, ladies," I said, stepping between them without letting go of Liz. "Let's not start a brawl in the middle of campus, shall we? Violet, I'm sure you have much better things to do than to stand around trading insults with Liz, so why don't you move along and get to them?"
"You should hang out with better company, Alex," Violet said as she walked past us toward the student center. "Someone like that will only drag you down and keep you from achieving your highest potential."
"I'll take my chances," I said dryly. "But thanks for your overwhelming concern."
"I swear to God, I'm going to lay her flat one of these days," Liz fumed as we picked up the pace so we wouldn't be late to class. As nursing students in the same cohort, we all took the same classes together. Fortunately, Violet had gone to some fancy prep school where she'd received credit for many of the general education classes we had to take, so she wasn't in our psych class.
As we sat down and pulled out our books, I looked over at Liz who was staring down at the textbook on the desk with a look of mixed anger and sadness. I grabbed her hand and squeezed gently as she reached up and wiped away a stray tear that had escaped her eye.
"I'm going to kick her ass someday," Liz said fiercely.
"Let's work on doing it in a way that doesn't end up with you being booked for assault, okay?" I whispered as Liz flashed me a grateful smile.
If I was honest, I, too, wanted wipe that smug grin off of Violet Metzler's face. I just didn't know if it could be done.
Chapter Three
Cam
When Tesla and I arrived at the station for my shift, I saw that Danny and the new guy, Victor, were cooking breakfast for the squad. Once everyone had said good morning to Tesla, she settled down in her usual spot next to the television and proceeded to chew on a bone that Mike Kelly had brought from his father's butcher shop down in Pilsen.
"What's up, Connor?" Victor asked as he stirred the scrambled eggs in the pan. "Haven't seen you in a while."
"Not sure why, I've been here." I shrugged as I picked up a copy of the Tribune and read the headlines. "Where have you been?"
"Around," Victor said, concentrating intently on the eggs. "Just making friendly conversation, no need to get your boxers in a twist."
"They're not," I said over my shoulder.
"Guys, c'mon!" Kelly said as he poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. "We're all in this together today. No need to pound chests or engage in insults, right, Connor?"
"Whatever." I shrugged again. "He started it."
"What did I start?" Victor asked, raising his voice. "I was just commenting on the fact that I hadn't seen you in a while!"
"Aw, c'mon, Vangel," I said, irritated that he was forcing me to acknowledge him this way. "You're a prick on a good day and you know you are, so let's just get that out of the way and move on with our day."
"How am I a prick?" Victor demanded. "You're the one who broke the rules and forced the Chief to discipline us!"
"That, my friend, was not my fault," I replied without looking up from the newspaper. "And you know it as well as I do."
"God, you are such an ass, Connor," Victor said, shaking his head. "You refuse to take responsibility for anything."
"I am more than willing to take responsibility for what I actually do," I said. "But I made a judgment call and lives were saved. I think you're forgetting that you went along with me."
"Did I have a choice?" he spat.
"Guys! Knock it off!" Danny said as he slapped butter on the last two slices of toast and brought the plate to the table. "Cam. Victor. It's over and done with. Why can't you two let it go?"
"He's the one making a big deal of nothing." I shrugged again. "Not my fault."
"Fuck you, Connor," Victor said as he dumped the eggs into the serving dish in a heaping pile and turned to yell, "Breakfast is served! Come and get it!"
The dining area quickly filled with hungry firefighters coming on shift, and soon the conversation turned from the grudge between Victor and me to speculation on who was going to win the World Series this season.
"Spring training just began," Mike said with a mouth full of eggs. "You can't possibly know whose going to win."
"I do," Danny said confidently. "I'm positive the Cubs are gonna take it to the series this year. They were ready last year, they just couldn't catch a break."
"Is that what you call it?" Mike laughed. "I'd say they were out of their league!"
After breakfast, Chief Riley called a meeting and explained that there were some big changes coming, but that the brass downtown hadn't given him a lot of information about it.
"If you guys hear rumors about a shake up, just know that there are changes coming," Chief said as he looked down at an official memo from his superiors. "But a lot of the rumors are goin
g to be false, so make sure you check with me before you spread them, okay? It's bad enough that we can't get the whole story, but to have you guys spreading stuff that's totally untrue is only going to hurt us all. Okay?"
"Aye, aye, Chief," Mike nodded as he pointed toward the kitchen and said, "Cam, Danny, you guys are on breakfast clean up. Hop to it before we get a call!"
"Crack the whip, why don't you?" Danny grumbled good-naturedly as he and I did our kitchen duty. As I washed and he dried, Danny talked about his plans for his small construction business. "You know, I've got a few contracts that I'm working on this year. Business is up from last year, and I can see that I might have a chance at some bigger contracts later this fall. You should come work for me, Cam. I can hook you up with some good jobs that pay really well if you need some extra cash for the house and all."
"Thanks, man." I nodded as I focused my attention on scrubbing the eggs out of the frying pan Victor had used. I didn't want to turn Danny down, but I couldn't take on any more work than I already had, and the problem was that I couldn't tell anyone about what I was doing; not even Danny. I laughed as I said, "I'm not that great with tools, so I'm probably not the guy you want working on million dollar houses."
"Awww, c'mon, Cam, I'll teach you," Danny pleaded. "I need good reliable guys on my team and you're one of my best friends."
"Alright, I'll think about it," I promised as I handed him the dripping wet frying pan. "I promise."
"I'll work on your team, Danny!" Victor called from the other room. "I can always stand to make a few extra bucks now and again."
"Yeah, okay, thanks, Victor," Danny replied with a weak smile. None of us liked Victor Vangel. He was a cocky, arrogant jerk who took more than he gave and spent a lot of time grand standing and taking credit for things someone else had done. He had a huge chip on his shoulder and was so unpopular in the department that the brass had been unable to assign him to one firehouse, so he ended up bouncing around and filing in for call-outs or sick leaves. Right now, he was filling in for Brent Jacoby who was out on paternity leave with his newborn twin daughters. Danny had a calendar in his locker where we marked off the days until Brent returned to work.
As of that day, we had twenty-seven days to go, and we were anxiously awaiting his return.
#
"Engine One, Truck One, Ambulance Fifty-Five, fire at Canal and Taylor in the Southern Market," the voice over the intercom announced as the alarm blared, and we ran to grab our gear. Kelly was the first to the truck and was yelling at us to hurry up as he slammed the driver side door shut and cranked the engine. I hopped on with Danny not far behind, and before we knew it, we were flying down Wells on our way to the fire.
"Man, I hope it's not bad; I love that market," Danny said. "They have the best coffee beans and Italian sausages."
"That sounds like a disgusting combination, Newsome." I laughed as we sped down the street.
"Nah, man, it's the best breakfast ever! Fresh ground coffee beans, eggs, and those sausages," he said, smacking his lips. "My mom makes them for Sunday morning breakfast sometimes. Man, I'd cut off my right arm for those sausages."
"Be careful what you wish for, Newsome!" Mike called from the front seat as he hit the siren and turned on to Canal.
The building was definitely on fire, but it looked like a contained burn at the moment. We hopped out of the truck and started pulling hoses out as Mike hollered at the rest of the guys to grab gear and get ready to go in.
"You got this, Connor?" he yelled as he pulled on his helmet and strapped it below his chin. I nodded, and he gave me the thumbs up. Despite the frigid temperatures, Danny and I knocked the ice off the hydrant and quickly hooked up the hose before hauling it to the entry of the building. Mike and Victor were quickly pulling out the employees who had barricaded themselves in the back room with a fire extinguisher rather than having exited into the freezing cold Chicago winter day. Mike waved me inside, and I yelled at Danny to let her rip.
I shook my head, knowing that the most dangerous place in a building that was on fire was to be locked in a back room. Personal experience had taught me that the hard way, and the devastating loss had been my reminder every since.
One huge crank of the hydrant and the water shot out of the nozzle, dousing the flames as we moved forward. The rest of the guys focused on making sure that the flames hadn't spread into the walls or air ducts, and by the time we were done, the ground floor of the Southern Market, while saved from major structural damage, was a chaotic mess.
"All right, guys, the fire's out!" Mike yelled as he gestured toward the front door. "Shut down the hose!"
Danny ran outside and cranked the hydrant into the off position as I tugged the length of hose back out the door, feeling grateful that this hadn't been worse. Once Chief Riley had given the okay for vendors to return to the building to assess the damage, a wave of people went flooding through the doors. Danny and I finished packing up the hose and storing equipment before we swung ourselves back up into the truck and waited for Mike to rev the engine and take us home.
"You know, sometimes I think we're just the luckiest sons of bitches on the planet," Danny said, shaking his head. "We live the life of Riley, you know?"
"Shut the hell up, Newsome," Mike yelled. "You're gonna jinx us if you talk about how damn lucky we are!"
Back at the fire house, I took Tesla out for a short walk and threw a ball for her a few times in the small, snow covered yard we had next to the station as I thought about everything I’d lost in the past decade. Tesla looked up at me and whined as I held the ball in my hand lost in deep thought. I threw it one more time, then I headed back inside to help check the gear, shower, and then start cooking.
Newsome and I were scheduled for the lunch shift and were making spaghetti and meatballs for the crew, and after all the work we'd done, I was hungry enough to eat a whole pan of meatballs all by myself.
As I walked into the kitchen and rolled up my sleeves, my cell phone buzzed. I pulled it out of my pocket and saw a message from my best friend, Leo Marini, that said, "BIG CSC contract in the works. Call me or stop by after shift."
"Shit," I muttered as I stuffed the phone back in my pocket and turned my attention to making dinner.
"Something wrong, Cam?" Danny asked as he dumped package after package of ground beef into a bowl before adding eggs, breadcrumbs, fresh parsley, and onions to the mix.
"Nah, all good," I said as I cranked the oven on and pulled out the baking sheets we'd use to cook the meatballs. "Leo just needs some help. That's all."
"Man, that dude needs to get a life," Danny said, shaking his head. "Doesn't he have a job yet?"
"Yeah, he's working for some security company downtown," I said as I reached into the meat mixture and began shaping the meat into balls before putting them on the baking sheets. I shrugged. "He's got a lot of shit to work through."
"I'll say," Danny said. "That guy's got more baggage than an American Airlines check-in counter!"
"You think that one up yourself?" I scoffed.
"Yeah, what do you think?" he asked. "I think I got a shot at open mic this month. I've been working on my material."
"Well, don't quit your day job, Danny." I chuckled as I focused on the task at hand and quietly wondered what Leo was up to now. I just hoped it wasn't something that was going to put me in the spotlight.
That was the last thing I needed right now.
Chapter Four
Alex
Two days later, Liz and I were scheduled to report at seven in the morning for our first full day of our internship. I'd taken great care to make sure I'd bought the right scrubs and shoes, and I'd spent a long time the night before experimenting with hairstyles that were functional, but still moderately attractive. I'd settled on pulling my long blonde hair back into a low bun at the back of my head after reading about how patients who were in pain might grab a ponytail and pull. I'd also decided to leave all jewelry at home after I'd read a horrible story
about a nurse who'd had her earrings pulled out by a patient on drugs.
I was pretty sure we weren't going to be getting near any out of control patients on our first day, but I wanted to start out on the right foot, and after the scolding from Mrs. Rikka the day before, so I wasn't taking any chances.
"Liz, what are you wearing?" I laughed as we hung up our coats and put our things in our assigned lockers down in the nurse's locker room.
"I want to maintain my individuality," Liz sniffed as she tugged at the hem of her scrubs. The bottoms were unremarkable, but the tan top was covered in incredibly realistic looking slices of Chicago style pizza. She shrugged. "When in Chicago!"
"You're crazy, you know that, don't you?" I laughed as we headed up to the conference room where we would get our assignments.
"You may be right," she said, breaking into a little Billy Joel as she danced her way to the conference room. "I may be crazy, but it just may be a lunatic you're looking for!"
Once inside, we found our seats and waited for Mrs. Rikka to appear. Violet was ensconced in the corner with three of her best friends from the class—all girls who were not quite as rich as she was, but still passed muster with her parents. Violet was wearing blue scrubs that looked like they'd been custom made since they dipped and curved in all the right places, whereas the rest of us looked like we'd been fitted at Boxes R Us. A headband that matched her scrubs held her perfectly blow-dried hair away from her face, which was precisely contoured and powdered so that she looked like she was ready to step onto the set of Grey's Anatomy.
"Good morning, nursing candidates," Mrs. Rikka said as she entered the room holding a clipboard in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. The mug that held the coffee was so white and pristine that I wondered if she used a brand new mug every time she had a cup. She looked around the table and said, "Ladies, I'm sure I need not remind you that when you are in Chicago General, you are to wear your security badges at all times."
