5 Minute Reads - Anthology

Heart by Sunshinebby

By Sunshinebby  

Jackson peeled off his scrubs like an old skin and kicked them into a pile before stuffing them into the laundry bag in his locker. It was getting full. He pulled on a clean shirt to mask the slight odor. He hadn't showered in thirty-six hours. He hadn't been home in two days, having slept in the on-call room between surgeries. He threw his jacket over his shoulder, picked up his bag, and left the locker room.
He was too tired to drive, but he needed a shot of whiskey to get the taste of steel out of his mouth. He and the other surgeons had spent hours picking pieces of metal out of Jane Doe's body, feeling the vibrations within every shard before dropping them in the pail. He could still smell rust and salt.
It was drizzling, but he parked across the street from the bar and left his jacket in the passenger seat. Sliding his hands in his pockets, he made a point to walk through all the puddles. It was always raining in Seattle.
The bar was busy around this time of night, but all the laughter and music were muffled, barely audible. He sat on the first empty stool he saw and knocked on the bar. "Whiskey sour. Make it a double."
The bartender nodded.
Someone slapped him on the shoulder and took the stool beside him. "Jack."
"Ethan," Jackson greeted. Lightning flashed, turning the bar a bright yellow for a second before he blinked.
The bartender slid a short glass down the bar and Jackson caught it, warm against his palm. He gulped it down, ignoring the smell of sterilized metal. "It never gets any easier," he said.
Ethan folded his arms on top of the counter and watched the light reflect off the liquor bottles. "No, it doesn't. But you saved a life today."
Jackson burped and held up a finger to the bartender. "I also ended one."
Ethan sighed, tapping his knuckles against the face of his platinum watch. "She was already dead."
The car had been so twisted and curled around Jane Doe's body, that it was a miracle the paramedics were able to rush her to the ER in one piece. There were many broken bones, and metal pieces had punctured most of her vital organs. Her chance of survival was lower than ten percent and she was DNR. General surgery was a always gamble, but most of the time, Jackson won.
"The kid needed the heart," Ethan continued. He ordered a bourbon.
"I played God," Jackson mumbled, staring inside his glass. His body had become heavy, like he was moving through a block of cement, but it wasn't enough to muddle the blaring sound of her monitor.
"God would've done the same thing," Ethan replied. "Her heart was the only thing that wasn't broken and that eleven year old girl wouldn't have made it through the night."
Jackson nodded, having recited the same thing to himself in the car.
"Hey." Ethan held up his bourbon. "To Jane Doe."
"And more tomorrows," Jackson added. He wanted to be there when the girl opened her eyes.
Glass clanked against glass, they threw their heads back.