Bone Dus

by Bette Golden Lamb

  He struggled with his anger as he gently pulled the blood into the syringe, and then discharged it into the culture solution before removing the tourniquet.

  “It’s all done.” He placed a cotton ball on the puncture site. “You should hold this on the spot for awhile.”

  He was still angry as he looked down at Lena.

  I’ll be back for you.

  Chapter 26

  “That wasn’t terribly good, was it?” Harry said, pushing away a half-eaten taco.

  “You’d think the people who run the cafeteria would consult with some of the Latinos who work here and learn how to make good Mexican food,” Abby said. She’d eaten only half of her taco also.

  “I suppose it’s better than going hungry,” he said and glanced at his watch. “We still have a little time left. What say we get out of here and take a walk. I’m feeling kind of sluggish after that so-called meal.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  They walked out the back door and started down a trail that took them to the edge of the open desert.

  “Abby, I’m sorry to be such a disappointment to you.”

  “It’s my fault,” Abby said. “I knew you’d just ended a long-term relationship and that I would have to be patient if we were ever going to get together.”

  “What I hoped for,” Harry said, “was friendship. I’m just not ready to really give up on Gina ... no matter what she says or does.”

  Has she answered your email?”

  “No. She made it pretty plain on the telephone that we were finished. I can’t seem to let her go.”

  Abby squeezed his arm. "I’m willing to wait.”

  “Right now, Abby, I need a friend, not a lover. If we can just spend some time together, have that kind of relationship, it would be nice. I mean, I really like and admire you.” Harry squeezed her hand. “But I don’t think that’s what you’re looking for. Right now, I can’t offer you anything more than that.”

  “I won’t lie, Harry. I’m disappointed we haven’t become more than just friends, but I don’t want to be here alone. I’ve been a travel nurse for many years, the way you have. I’ve worked all over the country and I’ve met some really great guys. In fact, I was engaged for a while.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “He was a nurse, like you.”

  “What happened?”

  Abby looked away.

  “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

  “We waited too long,” Abby said. “In many ways, like you and Gina. We kept putting off a wedding date. It was always going to be after the next assignment, or there was a special bonus sign-up and we thought having some extra money would be great.”

  “Only in my case,” Harry said, “Gina had a bad marriage and she couldn’t surrender to the idea of another marriage. Trust was a big issue.”

  Abby picked up a rock and threw it at a spreading Saguaro cactus “In my situation, we sort of lost our long-term commitment to each other and went our separate ways.”

  “I swear," Harry said, “I’ll never understand people.”

  “Me neither.”

  * * *

  Dominick was high. Way out in space, floating. Vicodin had taken the edge off the pain and the pot was making him feel light as a feather.

  His thoughts jumped around. He was missing his family back in the Bronx again.

  No one here knew who he truly was. To them, he was just some dude named Dommi Machado, with absolutely no roots in Arizona.

  If any of these people ever suspected he was an ex- con or had broken parole in New York, they would turn him in for the price of a beer.

  He missed New York with all the fast talk, the intense people, and his drinking buddies.

  He’d never ever been on his own except when he was in prison. There was always his mother and father, his sister, and the guys he hung out with.

  There was nothing here.

  On an impulse, he pulled out his cell, punched in the numbers.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi, Mamma. It’s me.”

  The silence between them was almost unbearable.

  “Why you call me now, Dommi?”

  “It’s been a year, Mamma. I miss you and Papa.”

  “Oh, Dommi. Why you have to run away?”

  “I couldn’t go back to jail. I just couldn’t.”

  “No!” his mother said. “You went to California because you couldn’t leave Gina alone.”

  “She has to pay, Mamma. She sent me away to jail. She’s the one who did it.” He wiped away a tear. “Don’t you think she has to pay? It was her fault.”

  “No, Dommi. You beat your wife. She almost die.” He could hear his mother crying. “It was your fault. You the one who has to pay.”

  Dominick cut the connection. The high was gone; all he felt was sadness. Gina had destroyed his life, taken his family away, turned them against him.

  Standing at the window, he looked at the blue sky and the desert landscape. He inhaled and held the smoke, then again, and again. In a little while, not only his neck and ribs felt better, he felt better.

  He would take away what Gina loved, too.

  Chapter 27

  Gina went through the double sliding doors into the ER waiting room. The place was packed with people of all ages, of every shape and size. It was standing room only.

  For just a beat she felt euphoric.

  This was what she signed on for when she became a nurse. She wanted to help sick people, be there for them.

  But the sounds of choking coughs and screaming babies, along with the sight of exhausted, fearful faces, blurred some of those simple ideals.

  As she stepped into the middle of the crowd, she was surrounded by very, very, sick people.

  One person was being eased into a wheelchair while she kept her place in line. Others were shifting back and forth from leg to leg; many just stood and stared into space, their faces drained of color.

  When the door opened to the treatment area, all eyes focused on the person calling the names of those who were going to be taken inside to be examined. Everyone hoped it was his or her turn.

  Sounds of disappointment rippled throughout the room when they realized they weren’t going to be called this time.

  Gina felt the first twinge of panic. Did she really want to expose herself to this snake pit of humanity?

  For one fleeting second she thought about running back to her car. She’d had that feeling a few times in her career, but she’d never given in to it; the urge was gone by the time she walked into the treatment area of the ER.

  She spotted Brad and caught his eye; he gave her a brief smile and was gone in an instant into a curtained space where a baby was screaming.

  Gina stopped a passing nurse. “Hey, sorry to bother you. I was called in to help. Who’s giving directions in this madhouse?”

  The nurse pointed to a woman at the medicine cabinet. “Donna’s the one you want to see. She’ll put you into the right slot. Sorry, I’ve got to run.”

  Gina walked up to Donna and tapped her on the shoulder.

  “Yes?” she said irritably and turned. She looked at Gina, then at her ID. “Oh, Mazzio. Boy, am I glad to see you.”

  “It’s a mob scene out there,” Gina said.

  “You noticed? I mean, it’s been pretty wild around here.” Donna locked the narcotics box and slipped the keys into her pocket. “I looked up your personnel file and man, was I was happy to see that you’ve done triage before.”

  “True.”

  Donna placed a hand on Gina’s shoulder. “That’s exactly where we need you right now. Actually, we could use two or three of you. Are you up for it?”

  “Sure. Wherever.”

  They hurried out the door, walked through the reception area to a triage room. “Gina, I want you to meet Pamela Cavanna. She’s been holding down the fort in this loony bin.”

  The triage nurse barely smiled at Gina. She looked really stressed. He
r stethoscope was like a skinny blue snake curling around her neck. Gina smiled at a man sitting in a chair next to Pamela’s desk having his vitals taken. He kept rubbing his throat; it was obvious he was having trouble swallowing.

  “She’ll be glad you’re holding down the other spot.” Donna pointed to another desk set-up. Next to it was a portable piece of equipment to assess B/P, pulse, temperature, oxygen intake, and the usual computer equipment, same as Pamela’s.

  “Welcome,” the triage nurse finally said. “I’m really so glad you’re here. I about to go under. Donna, would you please take Mr. Pronzini to the treatment area? He’s going to need immediate attention.”

  “See you later,” Donna said, taking the arm of the man, leading him out the door.

  Gina stuffed her purse in the desk drawer and hung up her coat. She snatched the next-in-line patient information sheet from the crammed-full intake rack. She stood at the doorway. If it was possible, there were now more people than when she arrived.

  “Ms. Podolsky,” she called out.

  A woman stood on shaking legs and moved toward Gina, who took her arm to guide her into the triage room.

  * * *

  Jenni called out to one of the nurse techs, “Help me move this man, please?” She was swamped and frustrated with the crowding ... everywhere.

  “Where’re you gonna put him?” the tech asked. “There’s no more room.”

  “He’s going into Lena Dobbs’ room,” Jenni said, walking down the corridor. “He’s her father ... that will open a bed for us.”

  The tech looked agitated. In fact, every one of the nurses and nurse techs had been moving nonstop. They were having to squeeze in too many patients into too little space and it was taking a lot of creative rearranging.

  Father and daughter will just have to tough it.

  When they wheeled Aaron Dobbs into his daughter’s room, Lena’s eyes widened.

  “Dad, I didn’t know you were so sick. Mom didn’t tell me.”

  “Just like my dorm days at Cornell, only my roommates were not my daughter.” He smiled at her. “And this definitely is not going to be fun.”

  Jenni didn’t like the way Aaron looked. His black skin had a gray tinge and his eyes were drooping like most of the others on the unit with high temperatures.

  “How are the aches and pains since we dosed you with anti-inflammatories?”

  Aaron looked at Jenni and began to cough. “Don’t you worry about me ... just take care of my little girl.”

  The nursing tech left after the bed was positioned to form an isosceles triangle. Not the usual conformation, but the only way to leave some room for patient care.

  “Don’t you worry, Mr. Dobbs, we intend to take good care of both of you.” Jenni fussed with his pillow. “In a few minutes we’re taking you down for an x-ray.”

  Jenni was about to leave when Russell walked into the room with his lab tray. He set it on the Dobbs’ shared bedside table. She looked at him and felt her arms explode with goose bumps.

  “I don’t recall any additional lab work ordered for Mr. Dobbs,” she said gruffly.

  He pulled out his order sheet and held it up so she could see it.

  She slipped into the space on the other side of the bed, determined to stay until he was finished.

  “Did you want something?” Russell asked her.

  “I’m just going to wait and see if you need any help,” Jenni said, ready to pounce on the creep.

  “I’m fine.”

  She gave him a big smile. “You’ve never been fine.” Her cell vibrated in her pocket.

  “I hear you have a bed available,” Brad Rizzo said. “If so, I’ve got an elderly woman the police brought in. No ID and she’s burning up with fever. Not only that, I’d bet my last buck that she has pneumonia. They’re taking her to x-ray first, but then I need a place to put her.”

  “Send her here; we can handle her.” She took a deep breath and said, “Gina there?”

  “Yeah, she’s doing triage.”

  “Brad, I—”

  “—Stop worrying, Jenni. I forgive you, and I’m sure Gina will too.”

  Jenni was flabbergasted, couldn’t speak.

  Brad laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” Jenni said.

  “Let it go, Jenni. We’re up to our eyeballs with people going down with the flu. Every one of us is too busy for that kind of stuff.”

  * * *

  The old woman clutched Brad’s arm. “Where am I?”

  Brad looked at the veined hand and sparse gray hair. The x-rays had confirmed his diagnosis: Pneumonia.

  What troubled him more than anything else was that she seemed malnourished and there were fresh bruises on her arms.

  “We brought you into the hospital because you’re very sick and we need to treat you.”

  “Yes, I’m really not feeling well ... can’t catch my breath.”

  Brad looked into faded blue eyes that were flitting from one spot to another, never quite settling on any one thing. How many times had he seen patients with breathing problems look exactly the same way—like panicked animals about to take off and run?

  “Can you tell me your name?” He tried to smooth her smattering of hair and reassure her, but he knew this kind of confusion was most likely part of a dementia syndrome. He hoped for her sake it was only her high temperature.

  “I don’t know.” She placed a shaking hand on her bruised arm and rubbed. “I just want to go home.”

  “Where do you live?”

  She pointed to the corner of the room. Over there, in my purse ... the address is there.”

  “There was no purse with you.”

  The woman began to moan and her cheeks were awash with tears.

  Brad tried to remain objective about her situation, but the Bay Area hospitals were full and all the ERs were sending patients away, just passing them back and forth.

  He felt a sudden flash of fear grip him.

  How the hell are we going to take care of all of them?

  Chapter 28

  The score was tied, bottom of the ninth. Fans at Yankee Stadium were wild with excitement. They were screaming his name: Dominick! Dominick! Dominick!

  Gina was in the front row behind the dugout, shaking her fist, yelling louder than anyone else.

  But she was distracting him. Every time he’d look up at a fly ball, he’d hear her shriek his name―it tore at his head. But he knew the ball would drop solidly into the pocket of his glove. If he could just keep it together.

  This one was high, highest of the afternoon. When it reached its peak, it paused for an instant, then started back down. Dominick stationed himself under the falling ball, moved a little to his left, then a little back. Soon it would be safe in the pocket of his glove. The ball was gently floating down towards him, but then it changed. Like a falling missile it started coming down really fast, and getting faster. He was ready, he was there. His glove was positioned perfectly.

  “Get it, Dominick! Do it, do it!” Gina’s screams were tearing at his brain, a banging, a pounding in his head.

  He watched the ball barely miss his glove, fall to the ground, and roll away.

  His eyes snapped open.

  His heart was thumping against his chest; he sat up, looked around in confusion. Someone was pounding on the door to his room.

  When he opened the door, there stood José, the only friend he’d made since coming to Tucson.

  “Hola,Machado. ¿Que pasa?” José said. “Am I gonna have to stand here all day, or are you gonna ask me in?”

  An illegal immigrant, José had helped him get a fake green card so he could fend off any cops or immigration agents who might stop and question him. The main thing was to keep from being identified as Dominick Colletti and sent back to New York.

  It had cost him a bundle for the ID, almost every penny he had, and he’d gone around scared to death until he earned the money to pay for a new social security number and driver’s license. Now, he sort
of fit in and was relatively anonymous.

  “Did you come to gloat?” he asked. He stepped away from the entrance so José could come inside.

  “Nah. I’m here ’cause I miss your ugly face.” He sat down on Dominick’s bed, since there were no chairs. “You look drugged up.”

  “Yeah, well I feel like shit even with the stuff they gave me for pain.”

  “Listen, you keep taking that shit and you’ll never get better.”

  “What are you talking about, dude?” Dominick sat down next to him. “How am I gonna sleep or move around if I’m in so much pain? Man, I’ll never get over this.”

  “Bullshit, Machado! That stuff makes you need it. I’ll bet you’re not even getting a high on it anymore.”

  “Well, that’s for damn sure. In the beginning it was good for a buzz, but I’m used to the shit now.”

  “Damn right you are.”

  Well, what the hell am I gonna do? I need to get my ass back to the job. I’m running the fuck out of bread.”

  “I got something for you in a couple of days, man. Think you can keep it together until then?”

  “I don’t know, man. My neck is okay. But my ribs. It’s hard to breathe, dude.”

  “Look, just stop taking the dope and I’ll tape you up real good so you’ll be able to at least dig a hole in the ground.”

  Dominick didn’t like the thought of either. “Are you sure?”

  “I’ll pick you up, but so help me, man, if you’re stoned ... that’s it.”

  “Okay, man.”

  “Machado, you need to grow a pair if you’re ever gonna get on your feet again.”

  “I said, okay. Enough already.”

  * * *

  Talking to Gina had done nothing but bring Harry down. Really down. He should have left her alone, not pressed so hard about getting married―it was a blind spot for both of them and it had caused brief separations before. This time, it might be forever.

  Idiot! Had to get my own way. Couldn’t keep my big mouth shut.

  When he’d called the apartment again, Jenni answered. She reluctantly told him Gina was dating again. It left him feeling icy cold and desperate.