No sooner had these last words escaped from Monica’s lips than the familiar sound of an arriving ambulance could be heard.
“In fact, I’d wager that’s them now,” Monica said as she got to her feet. She moved over to an intercom and pressed a button. Talking to someone in one of the trauma rooms she informed them to get ready. Then she herself disappeared back into the depths of the ER.
With little satisfaction for his latest efforts, Kim headed back to the waiting room. As he passed by the main entrance doors, a team of EMT’s rushed in with the shooting victim on a gurney. The patient had an oxygen mask strapped over his face and an IV running. His color was ashen.
“Well?” Tracy asked as Kim reclaimed his seat.
“They said they’d see her as soon as they could,” Kim said. He was embarrassed to relate the rest of the conversation. He noticed that Becky had curled up in her seat as best she could and had her eyes closed.
“That’s pretty vague,” Tracy said. “What does it mean? Fifteen minutes, an hour, tomorrow morning?”
“It means exactly as soon as they can,” Kim snapped. “A shooting victim just came in and victims from an auto accident came in a few minutes ago. It’s a busy night.”
Tracy sighed and shook her head in frustration.
“How’s Becky doing?” Kim asked.
“She just had another bout of cramps,” Tracy said. “So, you guess. You’re the doctor.”
Kim looked away, gritting his teeth. It was hard not to lose his temper. And on top of everything else, he was hungry.
For the next hour Kim was sullenly silent. He was busy brooding over this ridiculous ER experience and eager to complain to his colleagues about it. They would understand. Tracy and Becky seemed more resigned to the wait.
Every time one of the nurses or residents came to the waiting-room threshold to call out a name, Kim expected it to be Rebecca Reggis. But it never was. Finally Kim looked at his watch.
“It’s been two and a half freaking hours.” He stood up. “I truly can’t believe this. If I were the slightest bit paranoid, I’d think it was some kind of screwy conspiracy. This time I’m going to make something happen. I’ll be right back.”
Tracy glanced up at her former husband. Under more normal circumstances, she’d be concerned about Kim’s temper, but after having been kept waiting so long, she didn’t care. She wanted Becky seen. She didn’t comment as Kim stalked off.
Kim marched directly back to the nurses’ desk. A number of the ER staff was scattered about the station, engaged in desultory conversation punctuated by laughter.
Upon reaching the counter, Kim scanned the group for a recognizable face. No one looked familiar and none seemed to recognize him. In fact, the only person to notice his presence was the clerk, a young college-aged boy who was most likely a student at the university.
“I’m Doctor Reggis,” Kim said. “What’s happening?” He motioned to all the people.
“They’re just taking a breather,” the clerk said. “The shooting victim and the last car-accident patients just went up to surgery.”
“Who’s the acting head of the emergency department for the evening shift?” Kim asked.
“That would be Dr. David Washington.” the clerk said.
“Is he here at the moment?” Kim asked.
The clerk glanced around the area to be sure. “No,” he said. “I believe he’s back with an orthopedic case.
“How about a head nurse or nurse supervisor?” Kim asked.
“That would be Nora Labat,” the clerk said. “She’s with a psych patient.”
“I see,” Kim said. “Thanks.”
Kim proceeded down the counter until he was at the very center. Raising his hand, he called out: “Excuse me, everybody! Hello!”
No one acknowledged Kim’s voice or gesture.
For another moment he glanced around, trying to make eye contact with anyone. It was impossible. Instead he reached across the counter and lifted a metallic in-and-out basket from the desk top. Holding it above his head for a moment, he thought someone might notice. They didn’t.
Kim brought the metal basket down to crash onto the Formica counter. He smashed it down twice again, each time with more force until the basket became distorted to the shape of a three-dimensional parallelogram.