"Alan Ramsey. Nice to meet you."
There was no way I would have ever expected Ethan's father, Alan Ramsey to show up suddenly in the very place I worked. The very place we both worked.
And there was no way this man could actually be his father!
He hardly looked a year over forty and there were no signs of aging. Flawless sun-kissed skin with dark brown hair without any specks of greying strands and stern blue eyes which indistinctly matched his son's. His physique was well-maintained, sturdy but in muscular sense. He was too young to be Ethan's father, and even though Ethan himself looked almost a decade younger than his 36 years-- Alan was simply...too freaking eerily youthful!
God bless these genes.
Irrespective of my startled expression, I managed to bring forward a polite reply without giving much of what I was postulating, "I am Dr. Charlotte Turner. Dr. Ramsey is my director."
Alan stared at me for a few moments, mediocre eyes hinting recognition, "Ah! Charlotte Turner! The rookie! He's...talked about you before."
"He has?" I nervously laughed, "I hope nothing too bad."
"Ethan doesn't tell me everything. We hardly talk." He replied in a flat voice, "But he has mentioned about you three or four times. It seems like you got under his skin."
How was I supposed to reply to that? This was the first time ever I was meeting Ethan's father and I have absolute zero expertise in talking to your boyfriend's parents. I noticed that Alan carried an irritated expression which was trying to conceal the insistence in his eyes. His posture was stiff, a fleece jacket hung loosely to around his robust frame. He was average heighted and I couldn't note any immediate resemblance between the father and son.
Clearing my throat, I offered, "Uh, if you want to wait in here for him to get back, I'm sure that'd be fine."
But he shook his head, "I'm in a bit of rush. I have to get back to Providence soon, but I've got something I really need to talk to him about. "
"Providence?" I frowned.
"Yes. That's where I live. That's where Ethan is from, hasn't he told you?"
What?!
Ethan was from Providence? But he had told me...
"I had...some personal work-" a muscle tickled near his jaw, "I went to visit my parents."
"Where do they live?" I asked instead. A normal question.
"Charleston...I heard what happened." Ethan met my eyes. They were familiar and comforting but his words were cold.
He had told me that his parents lived in Charleston. And he wasn't close to either of them because they wanted him to become someone different. He instead chose to be a doctor and had severed ties with them altogether.
Did he...lie about it?
No. He couldn't. There must be something more to that and I seriously can't just doubt him on every veneer.
"Dr. Turner?" he called me and I drew back.
"Maybe I can help you track him down." I offered and pushed the question at bay, "I have been looking for a break."
He gave me a pleased expression, "Ah. Thank you so much. The sooner we get it done, the better it is."
---------------
We walked in the direction of the general wards where Ethan often visited the patients assigned to the senior residents. He was the one who delivered the final word, about the diagnosis, in case of any trouble or discharge confirmation. Much to my dismay, he wasn't present in the general wards.
"Do you like this work?" Mr. Ramsey asked, peering at the beds where the patients were resting. An immediate family member always stayed by their sides.
I smiled, "Of course. It's everything I always wanted to become."
"I don't get it." He contended, "My son's work is like a black box to me. And he never bothered to explain much about what he does either."
"He is the best doctor we have in the country. And one of the greatest minds of this century. His work basically inspired me to join here." I replied, recollecting the time I had joined because there was a competition between the hospitals to employ Ethan Ramsey, and Edenbrook rose victorious again. However, I knew Ethan joined here due to his own personal cause and a constant request from his mentor, Naveen Banerji.
"He surely is." he spoke with an animus tone, "He's like a dog with a bone though. Once he gets hold of something, he never lets go. I am glad at least one of us in the family is enjoying the world coverage he receives. My son and I are as different as different gets."
I inwardly winced. There was a pythonic amount of bad blood between them and I was now confirmed that his father was still vexed in regards of his son's rebellious behaviour to become someone he was not wonted.
"What about...Dr. Ramsey's mother?" I amiably questioned as we took the stairs to the second level, "Is he more like her?"
An abrupt change in Mr. Ramsey's demeanour occurred and his eyes...darkened, "Hm. I think so. He has her looks, her stubbornness and her dedication. But she hasn't been in the picture most of our lives. Her job keeps her very busy."
"Oh." Ethan never spoke of his mother. He had just simply stated that they were in bad waters and Naveen was the closest thing he had for a family. I had queried once or twice before he left for Amazon and was always met with a blank look and unwillingness to share further. I stopped asking about it altogether when I found that it hurt him to even bring it forth. I thought that over time, he would open up...and that time was ticking quickly.
"What do you do for work?" I asked as we moved to the atrium.
"Cable repairman." He replied, "Has been for a long time."
I frowned at the tiled floor, feeling unsettled.
Didn't Ethan say...his father was doing business?
My mind flashed with caution unaware and I found myself standing behind a queue of baffling scenarios. A shade of doubt took position, pushing me to remember the facts he had told me about his family. And the only thing which remained true was the fact that he wasn't close to them. But why would he lie about them? To me of all people.
"That's great." I tried to smile.
He rolled his eyes, "You don't have to please me with your lies, Dr. Turner. I am not my son. While ever it may sound that he and I are not close, he will always be my son. And which is why I need to see him today. There are pressing matters he has been ignoring it for a long time and I can't stall them for him forever."
"I hope you clear the doubts between both of you."
He gave me a sharp look, "There is nothing to be cleared between us. He chose his own destiny and now he has to face the consequence."
I stopped on my steps and gave him a puzzling look, confounded by the iciness in his voice and the anger in his eyes. This matter was beyond comprehension, I was sure because judging by that searing wariness wafting from Alan...something else here was amiss and I had no idea.
He noticed my silent stare and sighed, "I am sorry. I shouldn't be dumping all these family matters upon you. You are just an employ of his."
No...I am not. I am more than just an employ. I love him and he loves me, that's the truth but I know I can never speak about this to you. I don't know you...and perhaps I don't want to either.
"It's alright. Families have always faced their fair share of challenges. What matters is...in the end, everyone finds a way to resolve it." I gently said.
Alan faintly smiled and I noticed his eyes were rather much sullied compared to the brilliance of Ethan's, "You know, he wasn't always a doctor uh- I mean, he didn't always carried this patriotism to become a doctor. But he always wanted to solve mysteries. There was a stretch of time when he wanted to become a detective, you know?"
"Detective Ramsey. Actually, he's a little like a detective now." I chuckled, "Always pacing in front of his office or lobby or wards, trying to bite our heads off. Even before we diagnose something, the answers would be on his mind."
"He could have been a basketball player too." He laughed, "Do you see how tall he is? Didn't get that from either of us."
"He hates sports. He hates everything which blares the word 'capitalism'." I mirrored his expression as we reached nurse's station. I was to meet Lamar Stevenson at 3, and still there was a span of an hour left. Danny was ticking off the charts when we approached him. The poor guy looked strained and tired as hell, considering the staff nurses were still having their holiday week. Our nursing department would remain understaffed till the end of this week which was why all of the interns had to do double duty.
"Hey, Danny!" I waved at him, "Have you seen Dr. Ramsey?"
He nodded, "He went out a few minutes ago. Wanted to think about that Stevenson case."
"Oh. Damn...he could be anywhere now." Alan grumbled, crossing his arms.
I thought for a while and was met with a possible location. Ethan had informed me about that...cafe which was few blocks away, far from the crowd of Edenbrook and peaceful in a sense. He often ventured there whenever he had to...think apparently. Without anyone noticing or fan-lobbying him there, to be added. And I grimly also remembered that was the place where I had my first freaking panic attack after all these years...and Ethan had driven me out from that hell-hole.
I informed Alan regarding this, and he was happy to follow me there. Soon, we were out of the hospital's premises and walked along the block to reach the cafe. It was a windy afternoon but the wintry sensations had vanished in thin air. I was still having hard time believing about this new weather of Boston which had roared up suddenly, booming the pestilence of severe global warming and climate change.
"You know, Ethan was always a good kid." Alan started, "He was a prodigal son of mine....."
Why the hell are you talking in past freaking tense!?
"A bright mind beyond his years. He did all his work. Studied hard, helped me with everything, helped...others, did what he was asked to and found jobs to support himself. It was a blessed thing that we were always financially stable, but he had taken the perception to stand up on his own. But..." he trailed off.
"But?"
He sighed, "Once upon a time...I had...we had, I mean everyone had asked him for a single deed. A mark which was already set for him. We wanted him to have it...to become what he was always meant to. But instead, he chose to run away from it. Chose to ignore and live here. That was what started this rift."
"I am sure...he had his reason." I defended, "Look where it led him today. The best diagnostic doctor of his generation."
"He could have been so much more." A distant look crossed across Alan's face, solemn, "He could have had...everything."
His words were obscuring and I dared not to ask because this was a very sensitive topic. What confused me more was the way Alan was denoting that there was 'something' else which was laid for Ethan...something like he was meant to? What was he talking about? Because his voice carried not only regret but also guilt and a degree of fear.
There was more to this family that it looked or seemed.
There was more to Ethan than I knew.
What the hell am I supposed to do?
Keep asking questions for now. Measurably.
"I suppose you don't have any embarrassing moments in his childhood." I tried to disperse that tensed air.
"Ha! It's very difficult to remember...yes, when was seven, we had taken him to New Orleans. And there he befriended a cottonmouth."
"What?!" I gasped, "Of all the things in the world, he had to be best buddies with a deadly bayou snake?"
"Tell that to him. We had no idea that he had snuck that thing inside the house. Apparently, he managed to charm that damn reptile and kept it hidden from our eyes. Sadly, his mother's eyes never missed anything and he was caught. We had to kick that thing out and Ethan held a grudge for a whole week. He refused to eat; refused to sleep...and kept on torching from his window to those swamps in hope that thing will come back to him."
My heart warmed for a moment, imagining a little blue-eyed stubborn Ethan befriending a snake. I pictured him gazing longingly at the dark and deep bayou in hope that...a friend would come back.
He barely had any friends here.
And how lonely must he have been all his life?
We neared the coffee shop and I turned to Alan, looking up to him and informing, "That's his favourite coffee shop. He comes here whenever a tough case bothers him."
Alan turned to scrutinize that building and replied without meeting my eyes, "You know him really well. More than I had guessed."
"I...guess so." I timidly replied, "He's a closed book most of the times. Do you have any tips to soften that condescending behaviour?"
I don't why know why I asked that. Perhaps to divert Alan's thought regarding me knowing Ethan well.
"Hmm...here's a thing about the way Ethan thinks. To him, everything and I mean everything, follows a set of rules. Life is about figuring out the world's rules...and figuring out your own. And then you stay true to both, no matter what." He replied and I nodded, assuring him that I understood. Just I was about to open the cafeteria door, Alan touched my hand to stop me.
I froze and turned to him, finding lucent of warning flashing. His next words were unexpected.
"I want to alert you about something, Charlotte." He spoke, voice so glacial it chilled me to grave, "No matter what happens, do no ever cross with my son. I mean it, clear. I know you work together and I know that you both are much close than it seems. But whatever it takes...don't ever let him get that close to you." His nostrils flared in anger, "Because he will leave. And it will hurt."
With that he pushed the door open, leaving me in shocked silence.
Gulping the strange dose of poison he had thrown, I followed inside.
My heart was beating with alarm and a thousand questions dashed across my mind, overshadowing everything I had worked today in the hospital.
We found Ethan sitting in a distant table for three, an empty mug in front and arms crossed as he gazed pensively to the street. The warm sunlight from the windows fell resolutely on his face, on his bright eyes but it unfazed him completely. His sole attention was somewhere else.
"Ethan." Alan announced his presence.
Ethan almost jumped from his seat, finding his father. He blinked a couple of times as if waking from a dream and then his eyes fell on me, behind his father.
"Dad?!...What are you-Charlotte?" he frowned in my direction. Panic grazed my skin when I found that Ethan seemed...rather spooked seeing me with his father.
What the freaking hell...
Alan waved at me, "She helped me find you. She was a huge help."
"She always is." Ethan's eyes softened when they met mine.
I shook my head, "It was nothing."
Ethan turned his attention back to father, poise changing. His shoulders drew back in confrontation, "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"
"I did inform you beforehand. I left a couple of messages. But it seems you are busy." His father replied, sarcasm laced in his voice. Ethan's jaw tightened.
"You didn't need to come all the way here. I would have taken a flight next month."
His father laughed unpleasantly... almost bitterly, "Just like you promised three months ago, please, spare me of those reasons. I may very well travel myself and inform you. It's about your mother."
Ethan almost smouldered in anger, eyes turning into a feversong, "How da-I am not interested."
"She said she wants to see--"
"I said I am not interested." The venom in his voice was almost the same he had used that morning when I had asked about the consequences of uprooting Panacea.
"Is Panacea...Declan going to be a problem for us?" I asked, feeling disquiet, "He was quiet adamant to have me killed you know?"
A streak of fury passed in the sapphire pool, "He will do nothing. Not when I am standing here. He knows what will happen if he tests me."
That fury... There were a lot of dark things involved. Between them. Between his mother. Between us...so many things.
He exhaled, staring at his father with menace and caution.
The air snapped like a captured prisoner of two threatening forces. I felt the hair rising behind my back, skin tingling with a funny sensation that was nothing normal. Temperament dropped below the warmth and my shoulders began shaking. I saw Ethan...shaking with ire.
I found myself disquietly speaking, "I'm sorry. I should head back. And you two should...talk alone."
Ethan turned to me and shut his eyes, as if it was the last thing he wanted me to see.
But Alan faced me, bristling but trying to be polite, "Thank you for giving me hand, Dr. Turner. Let me at least get you a coffee for your time. I think Ethan and I will be here a while."
Before I could protest, he sharply turned and headed for the cashier. I respected his request and placed myself on the empty chair in front of Ethan.
"I am sorry about him." Ethan spoke steely, "He shouldn't have brought you in."
I scowled at him, "You don't have to be freaking sorry, Ethan! It's me!"
"Precisely." His stare was piercing, "It's you. The last thing I want is you getting involved with my family here. I don't...have any ties with them. Out of regards, I exchange few words with my father but other than that, there's nothing."
"I am here for you. Talk to me." I said, leaning forward and grabbed his hand. I was surprised how cold they were, total divergent to the furnace he always burnt. His didn't resist the touch, instead stoked my skin with his thumb.
He shot a glance in the direction his father went and said, "Come see me today? I miss you. Feels empty without you beside me."
My heart skipped a beat. "Will you be okay for now? Do you want me to lurk around?"
He smiled, almost painfully, "No. Please stay as far as you can. Things always get... disagreeable between me and my father. I don't want you to witness it. It's ugly."
"Can't be uglier than mine." I replied, feeling discontent. He passed me the apartment keys, a set which he had brought but had not given me yet.
Ethan spoke in a softly, "Trust me, Charlotte. You have no idea here. You have no idea."
"Promise me...you'll tell me." I sternly said, regretfully taking my hand from him as Alan began approaching, "Don't keep it to you. I am here. We are together, you and I."
"I know." He replied and then steeled his emotions as his father reached our table. Alan handed me a coffee, god knew which one but at that point, I didn't care to even peer inside for the contents.
"Thanks again, Charlotte." Alan smiled but his eyes strung the warning again.
"I'll see you back in the office, Char-Dr. Turner." Ethan informed, polite and professional, "This won't last long. Meet with Lamar Stevenson meanwhile."
"Alright, Dr. Ramsey." I nodded at his father, "It was nice meeting you, sir."
"Likewise."
I headed for the door, gripping the fresh to-go coffee cup tightly in my hands. I pushed the door and for a moment, hesitated. Turning back, I glanced at their table.
Alan had now taken the seat just beside Ethan, and was hunched over. He talked in hushed tones, face so serious that I almost thought they were discussing nuclear codes. Ethan was but staring out to the window again, face so gaunt that he was still as a statue. Then Alan pressed his hand on Ethan's shoulder...and Ethan jerked back immediately as if...it was abrupt and impetuous...as if something twisted and dark triggered at the contact.
His face contoured the beautiful battle of rage and fury...and sadness and guilt...and deadly bane.
I stalled out of the cafe the very next moment, knowing that...things were really very hideous here.
---------------
"Well within the normal range. So it's not glaucoma."
I informed Lamar and his wife after doing the eye pressure test. Usually, Glaucoma was a condition-more like a group of condition that frayed damage to the optic nerve, the sole thread which was responsible for our perceiving vision. The conditions resulted due to high pressure upon the constricted area which led to the rupture of vessels and further narrowing down the responsible vitreous region.
"So we are back to drawing board?" Liz, Lamar's wife sadly asked.
Lamar chimed in, "It's okay, Liz! We're with the best doctors in the world! I'll be good as new any day now."
"How are you not worried about this? You worry about everything!" Liz exclaimed, stroking his forehead tenderly.
I was in the one of the patient wards located on the third floor. Danny had assisted me by bringing June and Baz's report and I started my investigation by pressure testing which came in normal range. So, my theory was shot back. Which left a hundred more of course because the symptoms were leading to a surfeit of diseases and disorders. I wanted be swerve on the disease side on this case because my gut was screaming me...there was an involvement of a parasite here. The meningitis...the sudden loss of peripheral vision.
"Dr. Turner?" Liz called, "I do hear that you team is supposed to be really great, especially Dr. Ramsey. We have travelled here against the suggestions because of him but...I don't really know how we would be able to afford these all tests."
I gave her an assuring smile, "You can relax, Mrs. Stevenson. The diagnostic team charges only what the patient can afford based on their financial situation."
Suddenly Lamar winced in pain and grumbled about his stomach. I swiftly went to the table beside the bed and informed that I would increase the morphine levels. But...Lamar protested, citing that he would rather bear the pain than the drugs.
"It's your choice, Lamar." I nodded and dropped the vial, "Would you rather help me by answering something about the history here?"
Ignoring the pain, Lamar shrugged, "My answers won't be very interesting. Liz and I have lived a quiet life here in Boston for twenty years now..."
"Thirty years, Lamar!" Liz snapped.
"When did you last get sick?" I asked.
Lamar...giggled, "Can't remember. I barely even get colds. Always had a tough immune system."
"Even when he was in the Green Corps, he never got sick. His mother was so worried about him catching some unknown disease. Before we met...He's such a homebody it's hard to imagine him globetrotting, righting wrongs, fighting for justice..." Liz added.
Lamar reached for his glass water...but instead knocked it over, spilling it all over Liz!
"Ah, hell. Sorry darling! Butterfinger!" he immediately apologized and blinked a few times. Liz waved absently and picked up the glass before dabbing tissues over herself, saying, "Don't worry. We know you peripheral vision has been worse lately."
I frowned.
Case said that his peripheral vision was swindling...but Lamar was looking right at the glass. A doubt settled in my mind and I asked him to grab the pen I was holding in front of him. He reached for it and duly missed. I then pressed two pens a short distance apart against his arm and asked him to look away, in order to feel the pen points. To this, he affirmed.
I bit my lips, thoughts racing in my mind. He didn't feel two points of the pen, rather just one poke which meant his discriminative touch was failing along with his full vision...which of course didn't narrowed down the possible diagnosis yet. Hence instead of scaring them both, I rather kept it to myself and informed them that they will be updated soon. It was the same scene which I had applied earlier with Esme. Mental health always in accordance to physical health.
---------------
As I walked towards the nurses' station, I understood why even Ethan was bothered with this case. It was all one hell of a puzzle, refusing to bunker down to pin points. There were so many diseases associated with both the discriminative touch loss along with the vision, meningitis...arthritis...even paralysis of hundred causes...lesions...
It was late afternoon, and the smell of lemon polish made me nauseous. Lately, I have been feeling the same rolling of stomach because of improper eating habits. I totally had no freaking idea about how the hell everyone managed to have their lunch while I was stomped on the soil with some case or trying to run my department. Even Baz and June disappeared most of the time and Ethan was...well Ethan.
He chose his own destiny and now he has to face the consequence.
Remembering that cafeteria part...it drew strings of despairing uncertainties. I couldn't wait for this day to get over so that I would hunker down to Ethan's apartment and we would have a long overdue chat. It almost felt like a lifetime ago we actually talked without someone prowling through the automatic doors or governors coming with burlesque bodyguards or even more-- the whole hospital almost on verge of being bankrupt.
Whatever Ethan's parents did to him...it wasn't pleasant. And I would like to believe him colloquially....
My thoughts were abruptly broken when I heard the all-too well know chewing of Zaid Mirani to somebody near the station. I ducked my head in that direction and almost scowled when I saw him blistering down my intern.
"Okay, watch me closely because it's a very complicated procedure..." Zaid's voice was sarcastic and crude, "First you open the chart. Then you flip the page. Then you flip the page again!"
"I got it, Dr. Mirani!" Esme snapped.
Zaid crossed his arms and glared at her as other residents and interns snickered, "Do you? Because reading a patient's chart isn't the thing I thought an intern would screw up today!"
Bristling, I walked towards them, heels angrily clicking on the tile. Heads turned in my direction and everyone immediately dispersed to their duties. I shouted, "Hey! What's going on?!"
Zaid sent a glare in my direction while I unflinchingly stared back, "Your intern ordered nitrofurantoin for U.T.I patient...with a history of jaundice. Luckily our nurses can read which saved Ortega here a court date!"
"I said I got it!" Esme snapped again. I sent a withering look in her direction and replied to Zaid, "Dr. Mirani, I'll handle this. She's my intern."
Zaid calmed down and nodded, "By all means." Then he stomped off, muttering to himself.
Esme came near me with a bored expression, "That guy could use an X-ray. So we can figure out what he's got lodged up his ass."
I shook my head, "Nitrofurantoin? He was having a history of jaundice. That med is one of common cause of drug induced hepatoxicity. We can't afford to lose patients because of inherent observation."
Esme sent a glare in my direction, "You were gone! I had to act, okay? I thought his kidneys were gonna fail. What was I supposed to do?"
"You have to always think about how you'll explain yourself if something goes wrong." I took my phone and pager out, "You have my number. Or you can page me or you can even send one of the nurses to find me. You are my intern and I am to guide you, not...leave you alone like that. I have told you constantly, you need to be more...active here. This is the real scene, Ortega. You don't get to chose here." I rubbed my head, "You have to act. And in the right way."
"How do you do it?" she asked, leaning on the counter, "You are working more than anyone here...and still you manage to just do it...right."
I patted her shoulders, "Don't worry. I have faith that you will be a great doctor in no time. Next time...ask for help."
"Sure thing." She smiled...but it was forced.
---------------
My friends left home an hour before my shift got over.
I had informed Jackie that I won't be coming back today. I told them I was stuck with a stubborn DD case which most probably meant crashing down on one of the couches. Only Sienna knew about my 'case' and for some weird reason, she gave me a wink.
I cleared out the remaining cases and reported Esme's results to Zaid. I also gave some pain meds to Lamar and now, only waited for tomorrow to probe more into his case. Because tonight, my attention would solely be on Ethan, and I needed to figure and find what was actually happening.
Hence, I took the sub in the opposite route and headed for his apartment.
----------------------------------
Alright, a lot of things just broke overhead and what the hell is actually wrong with Ethan's father?! Why the heck is he talking all sort of cryptical sentences and talking about Ethan becoming someone else and warning Charlotte about his son?
What happened with Ethan's mother? What actually happened to his family in whole which made Ethan so adamantly in hate of them?
Is there more to our Diagnostic Director than it seems?
What will Ethan reveal in the next chapter?
STAY SAFE AND TUNED!
PS--- GUYS! Just a little weather warning for the next chapter. Push on your blankets and switch on the air-conditioner because next chapter is going to be...sizz-sizz!