Page 2 of Caleb
“Fine!” I whip off my apron and throw it am. “Screw you, and screw your job. I hope you rot in hell!”
I push past him. Unable to enjoy this epic moment of rebellion. My mind consumed with worry about my hospitalized brother.
“Oh,” I say, turning around and raising my voice so everyone in the restaurant can hear me. “And maybe you should think about cleaning the kitchen once in a while! The number of cockroaches and rats back there, it’s like you’re running a zoo!”
The whole room falls into a deathly silence. Burgers raised to mouths freeze mid-action. Knives and forks clatter down onto plates. People start to stand up.
Clive's face turns crimson. I hear him pleading with the customers that it’s not true as I push through the doors.
I probably shouldn’t have done that. But fuck me, if it didn’t feel great.
When I turn back to look through the window, Clive is scowling at me with his fist raised in the air. Patrons push past him on their way out the door.
I give him the bird and rush to my car.
Hospital. I have to get to the hospital.
Memories flood into my head. All those months of visiting my mother as she slowly withered away. Eaten from the inside out by cancer.
I take a deep breath. I push the key into the ignition.
You can do this,I tell myself.Be strong.
2
Dr. Caleb
My feet are killing me.
It’s the end of my shift and I can’t wait to get home. Put my feet up. Order some take-out and chill on the couch binge-watching Netflix.
But first, there’s a patient I need to check on.
A young boy who came in with multiple broken bones and a head injury. But that’s not the thing that has me worried.
It’s the fact he turned up without an adult that has my spidey senses tingling.
Normally I’d have called Child Protective Services. But the boy's brother begged me to wait.
I told him it was protocol. Explained to him I could lose my job if I don’t. But somehow, he’d managed to wear me down. Told me someone was on their way. An adult.
I’ve heard that one before. But something about this boy made me want to give him the benefit of the doubt. I just hope I did the right thing. Not so much for my sake, but for the wellbeing of these two children.
Pushing through the doors to the ER, I head straight for his bed. A pretty nurse pushes her hair out her face and smiles at me.
“Working late,” she says.
“No rest for the wicked.”
I carry on walking, hoping not to get dragged into a conversation I don’t have much interest in. Desperate to get home and relax. To turn my mind off. To clear my thoughts of all the misery and pain I’ve seen during the day.
I’m just about to push the curtain back when I hear the young boy's brother talking.
“I’m sorry, Naomi! We were just playing around.”
“You call jumping off the roof playing around?”
The boy's voice gets quieter. I can practically hear him sniffling and wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. Just like he was doing earlier when they first arrived.
