Smell of smoke broke me from my short slumber.
Goddamn it.
I was in my bedroom (thankfully), not on staircase like I had been last night, moping on mould stained walls and substituting screams of junkies as lullabies. My eyes were heavy as elephants and my limbs were sore. My neck, uh, my neck was another story just like my head. Both of them competed on their increasing intensities of pain. It was difficult to crane my head without biting on my lips due to the flare of white short-lived agony that struck on nape of my spine and headed straight to my dear mind.
Goddamn it.
It took me almost three minutes to realise that I was not paralysed. Or dead. Or possibly just empty as wooden planks of this apartment. It also took me three minutes three seconds more to realise that I woke up impeccably late. Very late. Because when my elephantine eyes traversed in direction of my purple alarm clock sitting gleefully upon the only table in this apartment— I found out that it was 8 am in freaking morning.
"Goddamn it!!!!" I shot up in my bed like a bullet, almost falling down on floor where bedevils from last night had taken their last stand. The battle was won by me but...I now have a war to win—if even I was allowed to fight in first place.
Holding my head with desperation, I just sat as a dumbstruck kid—unable to deduce any strategies to think for future which was dangerously close on becoming non-existence. Late on the third day of duty. Apollo, what an impression was that going to make? I overslept on my destruction for sure and my brain gave some possible outcomes due to that.
They were: Either Edenbrook was calmly going to remove me or Chief Harper Emery was going to land my head on spike (my mother would actually hate that) to solidify her example or maybe Dr. Ramsey could just shove me into his incinerating sky-blue eyes and burn me to little ashes.
Either way, mind my words—I was epically screwed.
Goddamn it.
My nose prickled and upon sniffing, I smelt the scent of smoke drifting inside my room from the only window of this apartment. There surely wasn't any friendly soul around who could cook barbecue this early or ever which made me wade out of bed in jittery steps—my eyes verily noticing that my PJs were completely drenched with tears and sweat. Tears of desperation and sweat of perspiration. Billows of smoky air was coming from outside, and when I paned my ears, I could hear shouts cutting through an otherwise calm morning. As if someone was giving orders and was being loudly accepted.
I grabbed on my windows and looked out.
"What the heck?!" my mouth yawed open at the display—or rather what was being displayed.
There was a freaking gathering of strangely dressed human beings outside this building, blocking whole of Carolina Avenue as far as my eyes could see—including the area surrounding T station. Jeers and curses were fluidly hurled out, making my ears bleed with people carrying placards and blow-horns and some weird plastic-pistol thingy and...wait, was that a flamethrower?!
On entrance of this lane, a line of police squadron had erected blockades to prevent the crowd from engaging in mitosis—prevent protesters to protest further but bodies contained in the crowd jumped and threw whatever they could at the police. Their shields were up, gleaming from reflection of fresh morning and clear sunlight, and in their hands were batons held tightly. Protesters jabbed angry fingers and bellowed boos—also couple of them in front began performing obscene gestures including semi-flashing themselves. Mon dieu, and I still have no idea what was the reason for this rally, eh—protest?
In order to protect my ears from bleeding further, I shirked away from the window and grabbed my phone from the bed to flick on local news channel. The network did its usual dunderhead attitude before setting right. And thankfully, that thing outside was breaking news of this hour.
Putting my earcords, I listened to the reporter.
"We are coming live from Jamaica Plain where a rally has mysteriously showed up!" the camera turned behind the reporter and I could clearly see some of hoardings these protestors were holding.
I felt my brows touching hairline.
The protest was arranged by a doomsday cult...because the world was ending?
Like a doomsday-freaking-cult. Like the people who prayed apocalypses to happen, reasons unknown—most probably so that they could whisk off their busy and ill-natured lives into paradise. Apparently that was what happening just down Jamaica Plain where I lived. Grrrrreat. Just great.
"No one is confirmed when it actually started but people have reported to have seen gathering members of this so called doomsday cult standing as early as 3 am in morning. The cluster became a congregation by 4 and by the time it was 5, they had blocked this part of neighbourhood—not permitting anyone to venture out from their houses!"
For a minute, I sought my head heavenward.
Was this even for real?
I pinched myself to feel and knew that it was very real. As if my life couldn't be dramatic— my neighbourhood was closed off since 5 am in morning by a violent flame-throwing doomsday cult who apparently were also my saviour because hey, how the hell was I supposed to go to train station when these people were threatening to skin everyone alive! I mean—whoa, whoa, whoa—Lord Apollo, thy have your mercy upon me but I was so, so narrowly saved today from getting fired.
The reporter's voice continued, "Here, I have one of their members with me, Mr. Shepherd—what would you like to say to the world about this bizarre arrangement you've just made in middle of a working day!?"
The man grabbed the mic and screamed through his red-painted face, "We are ENDERS AND BEGINNERS! What we speak is absolute truth! It has been spoken that the world will perish in great flood, not mere two days from now!" a wave of howling went through those lunatics, "THE GREAT FLOOD will kill those who are not us! This place has been chosen to build an arc, and that is what we are going to do! We must not wait a moment more but start constructing the vehicle of our salvation, our redemption against our deeds upon the earth! For GOD HAVE MERCY on us all but we ENDERS AND BEGINNERS will never wither just like you all!!!!!"
Good lord.
The next part of news was paused because Dr. Ines Delarosa was calling me in. I panicked when I saw there were five missed calls from her, starting from 6:30 till this hour!
"Hello!" I called in and danced back to window so that the shouts of people could be heard generously.
Ines' vapid voice came in, "Charlotte! Where the hell are you?! Have you seen the time! You were on ER rounds today and one of your patients requires a surgery which you haven't fixed! This is absolutely irrespo—"
"Ines! Ines!" I injected, "Have you seen the news?"
"What news?!" she barked.
I parried away from window, "Turn on some news channel! I've got this huge menacing rally in my neighbourhood since 4am and they are not budging a meter away!"
"What?!"
"JUST GO AND CHECK THE NEWS!"
A few moments later, "You live in Jamaica Plain?"
"The very that." I muttered, "I have been seeing this thing since morning. They've got freaking flame-throwers, man! Where did they even bring those?!"
"My god." She gasped, "That looks dangerous!"
"Wait till you see them from my window!" I sulked, "They are practically below my building and have cut off everything. I can't really fly to Edenbrook now, can I and going through them? God...they might sacrifice me as token or something for this so called great flood or whatever."
"Jesus Christ! Zaid—" I heard her running, "—Zaid, don't kill the poor girl! Come here and see this!"
Even though he was on other end, I could feel him scowling, "What the heck is that?!"
"She lives in Jamaica Plain! How can she come through—though that?!"
The phone line sucked some air before Dr. Mirani's voice came in, "Turner! Are you there?"
"Yes, Dr. Mirani."
"You need to come here, right now." He ordered.
A bucket of water fell on my momentary peace, "How?"
"How the hell do I know?! Just do something and come here!" he crabbily ranted, "You can't be missed by any attending now. They will be arriving soon and if they don't see you, it's going to be difficult for you to earn that reputation back."
"They've got flame-throwers, Dr. Mirani!" I cried out.
My resident cursed something, "I don't care if you sprout two wings or call in a dragon. But make it here before 9:30 or else kiss your face goodbye!"
He hung up.
And I remained gaping at this tidal wave of uncertain events which kept wrecking me end to end.
Goddamn it.
---------------
So...how do you sneak past a determined, harebrained flamethrower bearing doomsday cult?
I was about to find out.
Climbing down the stairs, I found every soul housed in this building gathered near the tattered door and poking their heads through barely hanging barrier to watch blight of our civilization propagating outside. I recognised none of them and quietly made my way to front, careful not to brush against anyone. The shouts were rhythmically going on now— lots of things came through—like their official chant or motto or clan call or something else, but it came in steady-loud waves as if Godzilla was scratching its itch against some skyscraper.
Les monstres sont là!
I pushed the crying door and took cautioned steps outside, ignoring mummers of my so-called unknown neighbours who thought that I have lost my marbles. The only marbles skittering on road were these people; I was rather trying to walk on by them. Sun was readily happy today, shinning down from its orbit down to earth but those rays weren't bestowed by all humans since apparently there was a global flood coming to end our civilization before we tried to reach moon again.
The cult/club/crowd wore starkly similar clothing. Brown, tattered robes derived suspiciously from innocents animals which were killed in process. If they did, for them I sent a silent prayer to Apollo before glissading on the footwalk emerging from my building. There were people end to end, neck to neck and hardly created any pockets of space where anyone could be allowed to breath. And I was to cross them to reach police barricade, explain them my raucous purpose to prevail against this flood and then call in a cab to continue my duty in time before any attending took my life.
I kept my frame nearer to structure of apartments, crawling for support of their walls. I tried to stay as far away as possible but kinematics wouldn't allow me to move because...well, there were these women holding scythes to cut off anything they could find. Near them were their children holding...baseball bats? Doomsday cult was trying to have kids continue their legacy in PG-13 mode while they dealt with A-version. Okay...suited right.
Whatever.
Nobody paid me any attention thankfully since they were busy shouting their heaven high cry as if rain gods didn't have anything else to do in world except to listen them and thereby, flood our planet by their wrath which had no reason. These people, they were like thousand limbs of a single beast, connected to one mind and relaying action as ants would do around their hill. At least ants were productive and not anti-social to be noted. What was their demand anyways? I didn't get time to hear rest of news since I fastidiously presented myself again in hospital scrubs so that these people would recognize a doctor moving around them and since doctors were readily required after apocalypse, they wouldn't try to kill me.
Oh, but Dr. Mirani or some TNT equivalent of Dr. Ramsey, if existing, would surely do.
Move up! Come on, rush, rush!
My luck of staying sparse from these cultists died when there came a line of burly men standing guard to flame throwers. I mean why you would even need freaking guards! You've got flame throwers in your hands! And they were all blocking my path which meant going through them. Which meant talking and asking them to part. Which meant going into that crowd and that generated fright tittering in corner of my mind.
Alright. I needed to just ask them nicely and they would parry for me.
"Uh, excuse me, sir..." I wiggled between two leather-clad men, "Coming through."
One of them made some growling noise but it was rendered to soft-roar against the chant of cultists. He stepped aside and I moved forward, ignoring the stench of unwashed bodies and...well, sewage? Yeah, that was what they smelt which gave me some ideas about their potential headquarters. Now I knew why they haven't been busted by state government. You surely wouldn't send your enforcement department to look for gutter rats without being tipped.
I had just trucked from those men when a meaty hand fell on my shoulder, "Girl, wait."
I froze. Blacked out for a second and came back to reality.
Slowly turning, I found a bear of man glancing down at me. I barely made to his elbow.
"Are you a doctor?" he asked.
"Yes." I replied like a little robot.
He shared a look with another man, "Join us."
What?
I politely denied, "I have patients waiting for me. Excuse me."
His hold lugged on my shoulder, "There will be no survivors if you don't stay with us. You will become my woman and I shall gift you many pelts of kills made in your name."
Apollo! Look at the audacity of this creature! Drop your thunder and murder him at once, now! How dare he even talk like that!?
I swung my frame away from his grip, and glared, "Sorry, I have PETA membership."
And dashed away before he could throw me over his shoulders and show some pelts he has kept in private.
My steps took me deeper into these sweaty bodies which latched onto me as walls of flesh closing in. Minutes later, I was out of my breath, coughing and trying to weave through anyone I could find. Every here and then, someone would step on my shoes or pull my hair or jiggle their tongues in gestures, reasons unknown. With every tensed breath that left me, it threatened to push me towards panicking situation. So difficult it was to even blink in this stagnant air— in this infirmity of human kind.
But then, somehow I was suddenly thrust into a clear place which formed out of nowhere. My lungs first pushed past all organs to demand a huge intake of oxygen to satiate their metabolic needs. The cries still went on, but this section of land strangely had no tongue-jiggling people.
It took me...two seconds to realise why. Or more likely...feel it.
An inferno blasted near my body, scalding on my skin and sending fresh shock wave of scorching heat. A scream erupted down my throat as I stumbled upon someone, barely able to regain my axial tilt to find a man standing on top of a van and waving a flame thrower without watching the direction of flames. When I touched the left side of my face, it felt really, really hot but at least I didn't get burnt.
Tears swelled in my eyes. Upon watching this. Upon feeling this. Upon knowing that this was just the freaking beginning.
---------------
I survived.
Yeah. Superb.
Quavers built and crested over my skin as I tried my best to keep tears back in their ducts. I have cried enough for day and night but still it wanted to flow some more... Human beings were terrifying creatures and since the beginning of my time, I was aware of it. This...this was different. It was frightening and suffocating and just...just something I never wanted to experience ever in my life.
Walking and escaping through there...it felt like I was attacked by gigantic Pacific waves—only not created by nature. The fear almost escalated to panic when I was nearly burnt by that flame thrower and more astoundingly, nobody gave a damn to my cry for help or even bothered to glance in my direction. So mean these sapiens were. They deserved to be taken by that flood, shall it ever occur and my stay in Jamaica Plan would soon be converted into Jamaica wetlands. It was better if I sailed away beforehand.
I tried not to think about it anymore as the taxi drove me to Edenbrook.
When I reached, I used the atrium to traverse where many a more people were fixatedly watching the television, no doubt probing their eyes to watch how humanity laid its own gravestones. What was wrong with everyone on this planet? The only beings who were capable of launching an apocalypse were us, not nature. Mind you, nature would retaliate but it wasn't going to bring a humungous tidal wave or call in some primordial predator from its deep bowels. No. Why would you just...do it?
"Charlotte!" Ines appeared in front of me, "You're right on time!"
"Glad I could survive through there." I deadpanned.
"Hey, I know it's not easy but you have to make contentions for this." She patted my shoulders as if surviving a murderous, high libido cult was no big deal, "We've gotten you're ER shift covered. You can carry on your duty—first fix that surgery."
"Yes. I will." I nodded and took the charts from her.
"What is this?"
I glanced up to her, "What is what?"
Her fingers went to my hair and she brought a long strand—which wasn't long anymore because the lower section of it had vaporised, leaving charred little more-dead keratin twigs. I stared at it for a few moments and then brushed it away from her hands. I felt nothing, "The flames must have torched me at some point. Many of them had it."
"Oh..." Ines' face fell, "I am so, sorry."
I shrugged, "It's just a lock of hair. It'll grow back."
But I won't.
The morning or whatever left of it passed away genially without any attending coming for my head or Dr. Mirani scowling for my late arrival. Nobody even found out that I arrived late since they all were busy in their work. In rounds, you gotta work together and save lives but that was that. Rest, you were on your own, parading between long lists of patients until sweat broke over your skin even with standard temperature forever maintained. Ever since my burnt-bothered-frightened frame entered hospital, my feet and the floor were two friends whose bond was simply unbreakable. I didn't realise until I marched to surgery section on seventh floor that how freaking tired I already was.
A yawn was threatening to rise but there was a female attending standing nearby, so I clamped it back on my throat and survived with reflexive tears that flooded in. Landry was working in GWs so I took it upon myself to deliver the surgery to assigned surgeon on board. I needed to consult with the one who was currently free and when I checked the digital board, it was none other than Bryce.
I found him slouched inside a post-operation room, legs up and head rolled onto the seat. It seemed he was resting and I debated upon approaching him or not. But then his eyes snapped open and he gave a grin, motioning me to come in.
"Hi." I sheepishly said, "I've got you new patient."
He twisted his neck to release the kinks, "What are we looking for?"
"Esophagomyotomy for patient at room 603." I informed, "Achalasia. When should I fix this?"
Bryce absently ruffled his dark-brown hair, "Uh, 1pm would be fine. I just finished a twelve-hour long colectomy. All I want to do is crash and sleep for days."
I sighed, "I know how it feels. I would start gardening for free if they give me a bed now."
"Fix it, then." He bit back a yawn, "I'll notify the team."
Nowadays, you have no requirement to write anything on papers. I mean of course you got to send those details and keep it in traditional ways but we mostly relied on digital methods to fix up appointments and surgeries and any other kind of treatment. They were all linked to Edenbrook's large database and stored in there to be accessed and permitted by our authorities. After putting the surgery in slot, a notification chimed in Bryce's tablet.
"It is alright?" I asked.
He gave me thumbs up, "Yep. No probs here, Doc."
My eyes fell on the array of surgical tools lying on a table nearby and a thought struck in my head. Nobody had bothered me about that matter but I guess they could see a weird twisted and blackened fragment of keratin lying on my expanse of chestnut mane.
Keeping the tablet aside, I requested, "I need another help."
He squinted at me, "Sure."
"Can you cut my hair?"
Bryce blinked in confusion, "What?"
I pulled my ponytail and coursed through my length, bringing forth the lock which was burnt, "I got nicked by a flamethrower today. Just...manage this section or something."
"Sure...let me grab a—" he took a scissor of stainless steel in his hands, "I'll just cut an inch from where it has been charred and then you owe me a story of how did you come across a flame thrower."
He stood up and again I failed to not notice his height. He wasn't one of tallest men working here but at nearly six-feet of toned muscles, he was stately enough to make me feel puny beside him. He had to lean down to hold my hair, like really down.
"I live in Jamaica Plain, remember?" I turned, allowing him access that dreadful lock.
Realization drew in his eyes, "No way."
"I do." I stayed extremely still against his ambling hands, "Dr. Mirani told me to drag myself out of house and so I did."
"Through that murderous crowd?" his tone was chipped as he made tiny cuts with expertise.
"The very same."
"That's unfair." He snorted, "Why didn't he drive right through that?"
"But now I think...they were right. My patients needed me." I spoke, feeling a pang of regret for being selfish upong hoping that I could get a few hours of sleep. Even if I may feel tired enough to consider burying myself underground—it wasn't me who needed to be taken care of. It was my patients and I have taken an oath to stay with them until they were discharged with sound health.
"It's a good thing that you and Sienna are planning to move out of your places. How's that coming by the way?" He made another cut, his hand warm near my ear.
"We are leaving today after the shift. I don't care if I have to bunk with her whole residency in one room but there is no way I am living even forty-eight hours in a place infested not only with arthropods but also deranged doomsday cultists." I huffed, crossing my arms.
Laughter rumbled from Bryce's chest, "You should start writing a book or something. Pretty sure none of the interns ever had such dramatic three days of their lives like yours." And added, "I hope the new housing would be adequate. No more going down Jamaica Plain then."
I gave him a small smile and stared at the floor.
"Almost done. You have really nice hair." He whispered, his hands so careful that it emanated the sensation of butterfly wings flapping near my ear, "So long. You should let it open."
I chuckled, "I would love to but it would slap me on face and get into my eyes or mouth when I would be running to save a patient or performing CPR."
"I wish you could perform CPR on me." Bryce mischievously said.
My brows shot up. Was he...flirting with me? Oh God...how the heck was I supposed to reply to that...wait, wasn't he cuddling another resident under shower yesterday? Whatever happened to her?
"Bryce? Ines sa—"
"Dr. Turner!"
A sharp and authoritative shout cut through the post-op room and I jumped which also made Bryce to snap up into standing position. But his hands were skilled enough that they didn't carry on with my shock or moved an inch to nick my ears or cut my neck in whole.
We saw Dr. Ramsey approaching with a scowl etched heavily on his face, "Is this a pageant backstage? What the hell do you think you're doing?"
It would be interesting to see Dr. Ramsey's reaction before the doomsday cult.
"I burnt my hair." I plainly said, pointing at some long charred locks on the tray, "I was removing them."
His scowl deepened, "How did that happen?"
"A flamethrower."
He suppressed an urge to roll his eyes, "Little girls like you shouldn't play with fire. Be done with it, now. You've got a new patient."
Of course I do. I allowed to fulfil his desire and rolled my eyes, mentally of course. It was slightly strange to see him back in action at Edenbrook whereas yesterday night I was having as Ramseylike-decent conversation as possible with him at Highwater. He wasn't that spitting or fuming then until that phone call brought his tensed aura back. Now, that ambience was continuing its course and before it could attack me, I brought forward my tablet.
Dr. Ramsey didn't bother to acknowledge Bryce's presence and did something in his tablet until a message flashed in mine. And then he sulked out as if there was no one in the room.
"Weird." I spoke in a low voice after his presage has passed.
"What?" Bryce did one last cut and there went my precious hair.
"Dr. Ramsey is weirdly calm today." I stated as matter of fact, "He would've taken that scissor from your hands and dressed me down pretty good—" I bit my tongue, "Sorry, that came out wrong."
...To be never thought again.
Bryce chuckled, "Now that is a good imagination."
"Which you must eradicate at this very instance." I sniffed, giving a quick look on screen, "Whatever am I speaking nowadays."
"So what were you saying about your boss?"
"Dr. Ramsey would've scolded me for rubbing shoulders with relaxation." I drawled, "It felt as if he was tired."
Bryce grinned, "He might've gotten laid last night. Highwater is his hunting ground."
The...what now?
"Bryce!" I threw him an incredulous leer, "How can you speak like that! He's our boss!"
"What? He also happens to be a human being." he gave an innocent look, "And you asked me! Don't you want to know the latest Edenbrook gossip?"
I lifted my shoulder like a snail, "Uh...no?"
"You're weird." he peered at me as if not being interested with who was fraternizing with whom put in you in category of dopey cats.
I scoffed, "It looks like I am."
---------------
"So that happened."
Tyra's face twitched in amusement, "Weren't the current presidential elections chaotic enough?"
"I hope they clear the mess by the time I reach there." My hands automatically went to the recently cut small section of my hair, mourning over lost length, "Its' not wise to roam in my street at nights."
After I left Bryce to take power nap in post-op room, my orders (which I could die but never avoid) took me to the latest patient who was having fever since past two weeks. As usual, I sent for blood and tox screening, and found that she was having infection in her urinary tract. It wasn't uncommon for women to suffer from that after giving birth and a month course of antibiotics would cure it just fine. I was startled that Dr. Ramsey would have over such a detectable case while he was always charging at us to 'use our brains more than we used its capacity to live'.
Tyra slowly pushed herself in a comfortable position, her eyes confused, "Why do you stay there? I can't imagine someone so young like you living alone in a neighbourhood which is...rather not preferred to live alone. And you are new in this city."
I have been jumping places since I took birth so the perception of being new didn't felt that different. After I left San Diego, it was a storm of passing lands for me where I stayed no more than two to three years. It was only when I took shelter in my mother's house in Atlanta which broke from my all-present isolation. And Boston was the place where I could finally feel liberated from my family.
"I'm going to check out a new apartment with my friends today." I told her, "If things go alright then I don't have to mope around Jamaica Plain anymore...God!" I proclaimed, irritated, "You can shoot the next Grudge movie in that apartment where I live! And there's screaming almost on constant basis along with somebody rigorously playing Nine Inch Nails. I really like them but it just feels." I made a face, "Creepy to listen those sounds knowing that its none other than the junkies."
Tyra patted my hand, "I hope this apartment you are going to see works for you. Or else I can try looking for some out-campus placements. Or you can crash at my place." Her eyes saddened, "It's a huge beautiful empty house." She twirled her ring absently and my heart clenched, "I can't wait for my little angel to brighten that place with her laughter and smiles and mischief."
She might not show her emotions but I know deep down she is hurting still. Her husband is no more. Or to ever see the life he helped creating.
"I've been monitoring both of you and everything is fine." I informed, "You can be discharged tomorrow."
"Finally! I can get out of this bed." She rolled her eyes, "I swear every nurse thinks that I am made of china!"
I won't make that mistake again.
"Well of course you are." I touched her stomach, "There's this precious little thing sheltered inside you who is the most valuable being in this world."
Tyra smiled softly, "I haven't named her. I want to think all the way until she comes out."
"I am sure she'll have a beautiful name prepared for her then."
"Aw, I feel really sad leaving you..." she met my gaze and sincerely conferred, "You've made life here possible for me, Charlotte."
"You have my mail and my number. Whenever you need me." My eyes darted to her stomach again, "I can't wait to hold her in my hands. I haven't confessed but I love babies. And kids."
"Even when they are trying to uproot your hair?" she gave a wry look.
"Even then."
She held her head, "You have some serious calibre for that."
"Well, I am a doctor. Being resilient is my job."
And it wasn't only me doing my duty. Its been only three days of my three year long residency but Edenbrook has welcomed me in its building, uncaring what its other tenants thought of me. This place was newer than anything, so stark and different and huge and glorious that I felt responsible to take care of every soul which this place sent for me. It was probably an absurd thought but just like every doctor, Edenbrook trusted me and I never wanted to let that down. Never let my patients down.
I spent my free hour with Tyra and we shared our lunch. Conspicuously, I ceded a through scan on her food—just in case. She was an amazing company and the more I bonded with her, the more it saddened me to think that she'd be gone tomorrow.
"Are you going to resume your studies after your baby?" I asked.
She nodded and her forehead creased, "I have to or else they'll cancel my fellowship." A tired noise sigh erupted from her mouth, "Now I wish I had gone for English."
I smiled, "What thesis topic would you have chosen then?"
"It might sound very...unlike me but I really wanted to research about confessional poetry." She blushed.
What? Confessional poetry?! No way because I—
My eyes widened, "Wow...that's a bit..."
"Dark?" she allayed altogether.
I mutely nodded.
"Being a psychologist gives me this access to understand these poets who wrote from their experiences. I am not poet myself but knowing their psyche—or at least trying to know what happened when they wrote such beautiful yet aphotic lines intrigues me."
"Sylvia Plath is one of my favourite poets." I said, keeping my voice conventional, "I read about her when I was really young like six or seven but then when I took English as my minor at Emory and read about her again—" I stared to a distance place corner of this room, "Something just felt right about her."
"I know. They way the express such struggling feelings in form of words...have you tried writing poetry?"
"Me?" I shook my head, "No. I might have thrown around some random lines but never a poem."
"I understand! Reading those lines feels so beautiful and when we try to write something of our own—bham! Blank space!"
"Have you written any?" I questioned, preventing my brain to not join dots between Sylvia Plath and Jamaica Plain. No way because my locality has been very famous since history to house alarming rates of crime having twist and turns like Agatha Christie novel.
"Not yet. But I am planning to write...two actually." She spoke slowly as if she was remembering for her sake again, "One for her. And one for my husband."
And just like the day she went into shock, her face lost its beautiful shade. Her eyes forgone into a space which was infinitesimal against this real world and there lingered that space. There was...that hole which no matter how much—how freaking much you tried to fill by throwing whatever you could into it just won't ever get buried underground, ever, in rest of lifetime because that feeling it generated, that was like your soul being bored from both ends so that you could clearly see the unending darkness harbouring in that pit which lured you into it. And if you had no anchor from outside, you would be seduced to fall inside—never come again. Tyra was anchored by her baby and her strength...but she would always feel this hollow space inside her. I clearly understood that feeling. I did.
I gingerly rested my had on hers, deep down knowing that I was making progress by not flinching anymore towards a foreign skin, "I cannot ever match your grief but I am here for you to share it with me, should you ever need."
"You're kind, Charlotte." She smiled at me, "For someone so young, it feels you've known how life really is."
Something trembled inside me. It was a good thing that at last possible second, Tyra had turned her face in other direction—in right time or else she'd have noticed the horror of truth which just struck on my face.
---------------
After lunch, I waited outside the Ophthalmology Department stationed in 4th floor of Eastern Wing of Edenbrook. It was quite a compass there since we all worked in opposite side and this gigantic mesh of Edenbrook didn't aid the cause as well. I had to navigate using the map to reach there because Dr. Mirani has been held up here for more than three hours which was concerning considering he had yet to deduce (conclusion) about my request.
I have no idea what took him so long to transpire but when he did, upon one look at his face and I vanquished that frustration of waiting. I would rather not dwell my ire upon this resident who seemed fuming enough to launch another Trojan War.
Still, I raised my chin and greeted, "Dr. Mirani!"
An enervated grief debuted from his non-scowling mouth, "You, kid. What do you want?"
"I've got the surgery covered and it's done." I handed him the file, "Thought I should let you know since we were working on same case."
"We are going to work on all cases as I happen to be your resident." He dryly remarked, but took the file and gave a quick once-over, "Alright. Where's your partner?"
"He's arranging a PCCU for our patient." I informed and stared at him expectantly.
He nodded, scratching his head and nodded again, "Alright...but this isn't the only reason for you to walk all the way to a different wing, is it?"
Concealing a rising flush, I averted my focus from him and shook my head.
"Well, kid. Here's the deal." Dr. Mirani glanced down at me in a stern manner, "You need to understand that you are in no position, I mean no insult but you are in no position to demand any type of action from any senior staff here. Lest, be Director of Diagnostics Department. We residents often don't get to mingle with them until we fall in slots of same cases. Or if there's a meeting or whatever."
"Okay..."
"They have worked for years to be in their position and we must abide by their rules." He continued, "I don't know why you are so keen on meeting Dr. Banerji, if would be better if you at least tell me."
"He's a family friend." I answered which was definitely not a lie.
"Then he should be aware that you are here." He frowned, "He isn't?"
I shook my head, "No. It's been...a few years since we last met."
Dr. Mirani raised his brows, "Alright. I'll try to get in touch with him again but remember, he will meet you when he wants and since you are saying you already know each other, that will be sooner than expected." He leaned closer and dropped his voice, "See kid, the Diagnostics Department is rather...severely tenacious. The team is small but they work as if hundreds of doctors are running their mind together. They get cases which have baffled our minds and they spend hours, days to solve it and in the end, they succeed. It's not easy to lose track of time when you are crashing your brain like a super-computer."
My eyes widened, "That persevering?"
He nodded, "And more. You keep up with your work here and make your name. People will know you."
That was the last thing I wanted but all I could do was give him a polite smile and nod, trying my best to ignore the way my heart constricted around itself. Dr. Mirani walked past me, knowing zilch about what was actually going inside. I remained standing there for moments more, doing nothing and just staring at the tiled floor. I didn't cry but I did felt sad which seeped into my muscles like a rush of anti-active vigour, making them stiff and restricted. I...really wanted to meet Dr. Banerji once, at least once and let him know that I was finally here. That I didn't choose my family's hospital but the place he was leading a world famous team. I wanted to let him know that I was...here, away from...everything, trying to become who I was not supposed to be. Trying for years.
But he would not see me. Maybe...maybe he thought I couldn't be mended the way he thought...maybe he thought I was...just like him.
The signalling of my pager cajoled me to edge forward in my duty. Relegating myself from that department, I advanced back to western wing where I have been called for general wards. There was heaviness in my shoulders and my chest but just like Dr. Mirani had advised—keeping doing what you were supposed to.
Upon reaching the threshold of atrium, I met face to face with an ever-vexed Dr. Aurora Emery. She came right in front of me, forcing me to halt.
"Excuse me." I said, without meeting her eyes.
She called after, "Going somewhere, Dr. Turner?"
"My requirement is needed for inpatient services." I replied, stepping past but she blocked my way and gave me an impish smile, "How does it feel, being called Dr. Turner?"
I forced an impassive face, narrowing my eyes back at her, "What do you mean?"
"You father is Dr. Turner. So is your uncle and your mother and aunts, isn't it?" she gritted her teeth, "They have earned their names by doing extensive work but you? You have done nothing for the name your wear."
"My mother is Dr. Kenton-Turner, if you may not be aware—" I shot, inching to wipe that expression from her face, "—oh, how could you not. Your aunt Dr. Emery was her batchmate, wasn't she? No wonder people confuse between you both, Dr. Emery."
For a moment, red hazed her vision before she wore it off, "There is something you should know, Dr. Turner." She stepped closer until her face was just mere centimetres from mine, "This place isn't for you. You have been barely out of your comfort cocoon into real world and no matter the brave and strong willed face you put—" her lips flattened to a single line, "—this place is going to swallow you whole. Especially if they ever find out why you disappeared from San Diego and never returned."
It was really, really difficult not to flinch away and hide but I concealed that anxiety by fisting my hands, "Your concern for my well-being has touched my heart, Dr. Emery. But I would rather put belief on time and my skills to determine my presence in Edenbrook. And for the record, I was busy completing my education in various fields science has to offer rather than being detained in Massachusetts for whole of my life."
I didn't wait for her snarky reply and quickened past her before she could detain me with her unneeded-exorbitant words.
My gullet was a wayward pilgrim, walking miles and miles alone in hinterland of Antarctica where there has been no rain for millions of years. That sensation spread all over my body, weaving finally in my mind where I wasn't sure to linger or move on. I could not understand why Aurora Emery has problems with me—I mean, whatever have I ever done to her? Her anger for me was not justified, nor was her rawness regarding my presence. But no matter how bothersome her anger was, it was her last line which drove to me take breather in a sparse corridor.
Especially if they ever find out why you disappeared from San Diego and never returned.
She couldn't know anything...could she? Nobody did except us Turners and Kentons. And the doctors who were involved. And the finance people. And police. Everything was kept safe, buried firmly. My family was of capable of anything except protecting it from itself. And the secrets were—
"Are you alright?"
The voice which poised behind was feminine and soft, unlike the gyrating hooting hyena which just shook me in whole. I was stunned that within such a short frame, someone managed to notice my excruciating form latched onto the walls of corridor for support and shied. A small breath escaped from my lips and I straightened up, turning back by masking everything in my face.
A doctor stood before...and she was—
"You must be an intern." She spoke with concern and in her hands she was carrying bunch of colourful flyers, "Are you alright?"
"Yes. I am." I made known quickly, "I was just catching a breath. It's been...fervid day for me."
The doctor inclined her head as if she detected that I was lying, "Oh...in that case I am glad because I really hate this boisterous work attendings drop on us."
"Attendings?"
She smiled and brought her hand forward, "Dr. Kyra Santana, completed my residency a month ago and now specializing in Paediatric Critical Care."
I was struck by her aura which felt like being shrouded by light of pure contentment. Upon very first sight, you could label this woman as a person whom you immediately could call as your friend. She was pretty as well with curly black hair brushing her dainty shoulders, and large-amiable brown eyes below sweetly curved eyebrows. Her face though, was rather sharp—too angular to be exact with hollow cheeks of frigidly tanned skin, looking a bit pallid.
"And you are?" she raised her brows, keeping her smile.
I blinked, "Oh. Sorry. Yeah. Dr. Turner, Internal Medicine."
"So...you are my new savior then!" Dr. Santana exclaimed. I have never seen someone looking so happy upon seeing an intern cry-baby.
"I certainly am?" I replied, lifting my lips, "How can I help you, Dr. Santana?"
She flashed the flyers in air, "I am trying to distribute this to all departments but the doctor who happened to help me has been...indisposed."
"In...disposed?"
"He was a resident." She sighed mirthlessly, "Got booted down by Dr. Ramsey for letting his intern kill a patient. Poor fellow—the patient I mean. The intern couldn't fix up an I.V properly and this guy dozed up from his general clinic duties."
Residency-Terminator Ramsey strikes again.
"I am sorry, Dr. Santana" I said, feeling heavyhearted that Edenbrook lost a patient today.
"Why are you?" she quipped, "And please call me Kyra. I don't go by all those power-position rules. I walk on them. We all are human beings and one family, I hate seeing people pressing down others simply because they took birth early."
"How can I help you?" I offered again.
Without speaking, she shoved half of that flyer bundle in my hands and I caught it before I could drop them and scatter my reputation before her. After that, she informed, "I just want this distributed to as many people as possible. Doesn't matter who they are...they should have it. The more the better and I know you guys have duties in ER which is like the second busiest place of Edenbrook."
I held up one flyer and read its contents.
It was about an upcoming event—a charity event to be precise, organized by Another Hope Women's Shelter which was located in Boston itself. It was about a week and two days from now and opened for all to attend, listen and contribute however they could. On back were listed few members along with the people who lived in this shelter house created completely for women.
"That's great." I said, "Are you working with them?"
"You could say so." She replied, "The thing is I am searching for people who can spare some of their busy schedules for these women who have no specific age. We've got kids, teens, homeless and runaways and even old matrons all living in this dome. You can expect that being completely dependent on charity and protecting these souls could be..." her eyes squeezed briefly, "Overwhelming."
"I know...but this is really a good work you are doing, Dr. Santana." I held the flyers firmly, "They don't show these often in TV right?"
She twirled a lock of curly hair, "Not that I minded. Half of my residency went with one dream being fulfilled. Seeing and listening to Dr. Ramsey. I felt like I was in a medical TV show and was taught by a sexy-doctor who is rare in real life."
Center of solar system grabs arrogant meteorite again.
I padded out from that hallway, saying, "I haven't seen much shows but what they show are incompetent in real world. Plus you are not going to chose doctors upon how they look, right?"
"So far?" her eyes twinkled, "I've been blessed with two very hot doctors."
And she winked at me.
I blinked, "Me?"
"Well, do you see anywhere here?" she brought her safe hand over one eye, "Hello? Dr. Hot Invisible? Are you here?"
I blushed, "Eh-Uh, Thank you, Dr. Santana." I have never been called that in my life and coming from a woman? It was obscure but sweet.
"Please, kindly call me Kyra." She flicked those wild curls behind her shoulders, and brought her hand forward again, "Is it alright if I call you Charlotte?"
"Of course." I shook hands, noticing how frail those palms were, "Wait...how do you know my first name?"
She pointed at me, "Dr. Ramsey told everyone to be extra careful and extra hard to test if you are...his words, 'Amateur little girl' or not."
There he goes. A lofty, behemothian arrogant attending who hauled more insults than providing insights. Oh wait, that was how he imbibed knowledge—by choosing to be whipper on our boards! Sienna's toasting from last night was legit. Can't wait to take control of his position in couple of years.
"I don't know what I have to do in order to remove that adjective for myself." I moaned, "Three days and I have been called that many times in my head and out as well."
"Well at least he has been proved wrong today." She winked again, "And he rarely is."
"Proved...wrong?"
"Very." She responded back swiftly.
Stopping near the mouth to atrium, I asked, "However so?"
"You are an intern, aren't you?" Kyra asked, gently moving her fingers.
I nodded.
"And already made a name for yourself?" she articulated with surprise, "Last year, all interns were just interns. Nobody knew their names until end of first week."
A snicker broke from me, "I would pay anything to see residents calling interns and interns all around."
"Well hospital can be very entertaining if you know the right place." Kyra twisted her lips, "Supply closets, post-op rooms..." she leaned closer, "Nurses' stations."
"Eh? What could you possibly do in Nurse's station?" besides doing your usual work of course.
Her eyes held a wicked gleam as if she knew and had seen real deal happened there, "Many things, Charlotte. Many things."
Shaking my head with amusement, I joined her and began distributing the flyers around atrium—feeling slightly lifted up due to her uproarious cheerful nature which could easily counter some, ahem, condescending beings.
---------------
My whole life has been spent living in metropolitan and bustling cities. New York's harried and ever growing traffic, Atlanta's clumsy and genius-quarrelling neighbourhood, Manchester's historically beautiful but bromidic life of academics and San Diego's constant rhythm of music and waves. So, driving through Boston's streets did not surprise me at all. It didn't surprise me when with skies dark of night, vehicles panned long strings of horn in highway or when we stopped at various traffic junctions to wait for minutes more or when we approached the avenue where our apartment was located and found it close to highway and cannonade
After our shifts were completed without any further difficulty, Sienna, I and Landry headed straight towards the place in Roxbury whose address Elijah had sent early morning.
I have yet to get a mere glimpse of Bostonian nightlife and pretty sure Highwater wasn't the only attractive place in city. I was drawn mostly to the historical sites which were preserved as landmarks along the booming modernity. The moment I arrived at Boston was the span where sleep and hunger became estranged from me. Even now, every alternate moment my jaw hurt from squelching a yawn. Med school was enfilading when I tripped between two colleges but at least I had a splendid apartment of my aunt to put my head on mellow-pillows. But here? Mark me, but those insects stole my regulation of superchaismatic nucleus. With the lack of sleep I was surging myself with, a balance was immediately needed to be found. The last thing I ever wanted was to mess up with my body clock and personally invite Alzheimer's.
The avenue was rambunctious and railed with clusters of people in front of numerous delis in locale. I recognized our destination since it was towered against other structures around it. It was not tall enough to be a skyscraper but expansile enough to keep our gaze affixed to its design. It was part of greater-apartment complex which congregated beyond our eyesight and housed few penthouses on its summit—unaffordable of course. Neo-modern designs left their mark on it with red-coloured floors at lower levels and as they rose, shades changed between dark and lighter contrasts. There were advertising boards on its rooftop, and most of upper floors were dulling spaces. It, without any shade of doubt stood out from its shorter and pale counterparts. And it looked so much better...nicer and welcoming that my place at Jamaica Plain. I almost felt as if I was living back in Midtown Manhattan.
Please god...let me be able to afford it.
"Is that the place?" Landry asked, squinting.
"Yeah. Elijah is waiting for us at entrance." I said, "Let's hope this works."
Sienna smiled tediously, "It certainly will."
After paying rental, we crossed the road and entered into apartment space and asked security to buzz us in. There were two entrances, the main one where two security guards were posted and unlocked the metal gate for us and another, for the building after crossing the parking. Before entering inside the apartment, we found Elijah waiting for us in parking lot—beside a very charming, red colored Prius. And he wasn't alone. Beside him was a man in his early thirties who bore a honed smile pasted on his face with drowsy eyes as if he had gotten up from a nap. That expression was hardly near to the lively way Elijah's eyes welcomed us in to his place, grinning ear to ear.
"Hey, Elijah." I raised my hand in greeting, "You've met Sienna and this is Dr. Landry Olsen."
Landry moved forward and shook hands with him, "Nice to meet ye."
"Ooo....got that drawl, ain't you?" Elijah winked, "My mom's from Louisiana as well."
"Tis good. Tis good." Landry chuckled, briefly glancing at me. I don't know what that expression was—perhaps content that we were in this together still.
The stranger quipped before Sienna could speak, "Come on. I have other work to do." And waved us before prancing back hurriedly since RMS Titanic was waiting for him near bay—bleh.
"Who's that?" Sienna crinkled her nose, "Seems really in hurry."
Elijah motioned us, "Ignore. He's the chief maintenance guy. Whenever I am not here, he shows the building around to people."
We all together filled into a clean and well-maintained elevator. Sienna took the lead and conversed about our day and our arrival here while I shifted toe to toe, grasping straws to curb my tiredness. And to not think that I wasn't allowed to meet Dr. Banerji. And Aurora's statement. And Kyra's words.
The flat Elijah had short-listed for us was on 5th floor, not much of a climb if anyone wanted to remain fit. The lift opened us to a narrow but neat hallway with two staircases and geometric patterned walls. Overhead, dingy yellow bulbs showed us the path to the flat. There was pulsating music coming from some floors above but other than that, this residence seemed quieter than anything before. I also noticed that apart from our flat and the one adjacent, rest others in this floor were occupied. Our flat number was 519, and the maintenance guy jammed the keys on lock, saying, "You will like it." When we entered, it was dark and stale but when someone flicked a switch on nearby wall...
I was amazed.
Simply amazed by this apartment.
"Whoa." Landry trailed off, leaning against the door, "This place is simply brilliant!"
Sienna had same expression on her face, "Even better."
"Completely agreed." I added with stunner.
The living room was huge, almost same size of my bedroom at Aunt Mia's apartment. It was large enough to fit fifty people at once with five feet apart between them. The kitchen was first from the door, on left and spanned till a balcony which was to be entered by slider doors. Four rooms were housed within, each having similar build. Elijah ordered his employee to open one of the bedrooms and like little good renters, we three ducked in.
The bedroom had a cleaned bed along with a wardrobe, a dresser and private washroom. The bathroom was my first priority to check and thankfully, they were as clean as needed to be. The walls of living room were tinted of lavender while kitchen was green, and each bedroom carmine colored. Sienna's not-stop banter about how great this place was and she was so happy that Elijah chose this went on and some point, I just zoomed out, knowing that she was absolutely relieved. I ran my hands on walls, feeling their slightly rugged surface and strutted near a large window which could easily let me out anytime with abundant space remaining. The borders were shaded white and glass still bore stickers on it. I craned my head outside and found this room overlooking Roxbury's central avenue below.
The neighborhood was so much frisky than that of Jamaica Plain. I don't know how I even ended up there (not blaming Mia) but that place gave me creeps. Its closeness to Hyde Park was one thing but it exuviated alarming rate of crimes. And my building was just two lanes away from house where one of my favorite poets lived. Sylvia Plath. And she committed suicide. And she wrote a lot of things she saw when she was young and free there. She and I had one thing in common—we were bothered by our early days, a lot.
I stayed standing there, silent while both of my friends moved to inspect others room. I wasn't much keen to keep my voice in this time since my blood roared with despondency to inspect the place, seal the deal and pack up from my infested closet before I was sacrificed as a mighty buffet for what known fauna hiding in there.
After Sienna and Landry were satisfied, we hauled back to living space where Elijah verily broke our dreams.
"Rent's 7.5K." he stated, eyeing us intently.
I shared a worried glance with Sienna who said, "That...high? For three of us?"
"I am adding up all utilities as well. Including maintenance charges." Elijah gave a sad smile, "Boston's housing prices have sky-rocketed in a couple of months. You can't touch areas like Eagle Hill where a plot probably costs millions of bucks. And forget Liberty Drive. Even I wouldn't dare to buy from there."
Landry ran a hand through his hair, pulling with disbelief, "I like this place a lot. But the price's too much, Elijah. I can't surely pay more than half of my salary each month as rent."
The maintenance guy gesticulated outside, "Then good luck finding something decent like this. We have other people lined up for this place. My other offer's way above asking. Some app developers want his place too and want to place a startup here. A good deal, sorry." He spieled, being not sorry at all.
Elijah glared at him, "Hold up, Bob." And then turned to us, "I can go as far as 7K now, but except a rise after a year."
Seven thousand dollars per month? There was no way we could afford that—three of us even together! Not with med school loans and credits and internet plans and transportation and food and trying to live in this goddamn city! No freaking way. And the salary? Man, we have been to Edenbrook for three days and it wasn't even coming until end of month like a punctual-steady snail. Paying nearly 2.3K for this residence would empty my savings within four to five months and then...then what? I have half a million dollars of credits pending over me—half a freaking million bucks and no amount of scholarship or fellowship seemed to be aiding at this time. My dear mother had covered up for my pre-med stuff but I should've known that I was cutting my own branch when I went for both programs together after being coaxed by her. Yet, when I chose to do that—I at least had the assurance that I could pay for it. But then he took it away. He took it all away. Who was going to help me now?
Uh...your parents, Charlotte? Since they are almost billionaires.
I cursed at that voice. They would help me. Of course they would but then...with them, Uncle Shawn and Aunt Daniella would keep reminding me until end of my days and what was taken from me couldn't be returned until...No. Don't think about him.
Sienna whispered to me, "We won't find a better place than this. Not if you want to live in Hyde Park."
I shivered, "Not there."
"We have to pull in a couple of months but then it's going to be fine." She raised her eyes to me, "And Charlotte, I really don't have patience or power to look for other places. I haven't slept properly for days and the last thing I want is to become grumpy and irritable to my patients. Not everyone can imitate Dr. Mirani that easily."
"Landry?" I faced him who seemed rather conflicted but the dark circles under his eyes told their story as well.
"I can't focus on anything. I need a place to sleep at night so that I will work at my full capacity the next day. The price is more than I expected but...I don't think we can find a better place than this." He sighed, "I say yes as well."
And for me, desperate times called for even desperate measures, "Alright. We'll take it."
Elijah whooped, "Yeah! Finally I've got some cool people in my building who know what they are doing!" he shook hands with Sienna and Landry while gave an one-armed hug around my waist, "My doctor is gonna stay with me. That's just wow!"
"I am not only you doc, Elijah." I arranged a smile for his sake, "I'm here as your friend. We all are."
He beamed at us, "You guys are going to absolutely fine, I guarantee you."
I wished I shared his enthusiasm but when there was half a million dollars of loans waiting like Memnoch the Devil...this expense pretty much didn't even make any difference. I was epically screwed in the end.
---------------
After surviving a horrenous night, a doomsday cult, tenacious attendings and residents, Charlotte is finally trying to make her place in Edenbrook. But with people like Aurora Emery threatening to know something from her past, will Charlotte prevail in this world?
Who is Dr. Banerji to Charlotte? Why does she want to meet him so much? What is their past and why is he ignoring her now?
Stay Turned for more!