Posts by Laurel L. Russwurm

16

sunlight makes the color changing leaves glow

The sun is shining, the trees are flaunting their glorious autumn plumage, but Maggie and Krystal walk in the woods oblivious to the beauty all around them.

Maggie asks, “So what did the doctor say, Krys?”

They keep walking, Krystal doesn’t say anything for a bit.

Just thinking, they scuff their way through the fallen leaves. As they approach the bench beside the wooden bridge that spans the creek, Krystal says, “Let’s sit a while, O.K?”

Maggie nods and they sit. Krystal clears her throat, but doesn’t look at Maggie, stares into the creek instead.

“Nothing’s changed. It’s not growing as fast as they thought. But it is growing.”

“Can’t they zap it with radiation or something?” Maggie asks hopefully.

Krystal sighs sadly. “Maybe there will be a breakthrough down the road. But there’s nothing to be done now.”

Maggie doesn’t say anything. She’s not sure what to say. She’s still not sure that she understands.

“Look I’m sorry I told you, Maggie. I didn’t mean to. It just kind of slipped out.”

“What can I do to help, Krystal?”

“Just keep being my friend, Maggie. It’s great to have some support, you know? But there isn’t really anything else anyone can do at this point.”

“Oh god, Krystal, I’m sorry …”

Maggie’s tears are flowing and Krystal reaches over and pulls her into a hug. Patting her awkwardly on the back, Krystal says, “Don’t cry, Maggie. Please don’t cry.”

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17

A workbench qith all manner of computer bits and tools neatly hung on pegboard

Ensconced in his basement domain, Adam works hard; clearly, in his element.

Computers in all states of being, some live and Internet ready, others gaping with all their chips exposed, are set up along the wall to wall work bench.

Motherboards, cables and capacitors are tidily stored in boxes and bins.

But the only computer he has eyes for today is Barbie’s. He spent the weekend getting it done. Such chaos; files scattered all over the laptop.

It was close, getting it all done for today, but that’s what he promised. Now every thing is backed up and the defrag is finally done. Adam can’t wait to give it to her.  To Barbie.

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18

Looking up at lmulti-colored eaves against the sky

The circle of friends reclines on the grass in their special clearing off the beaten track.  They are soaking up rays  beside the creek running through the woodlot.  Barbie languorously passes the joint to Jose, stretched out beside her.  He takes a satisfying drag and smiles.

“Nice of Mister Sunshine to drop in for a visit, eh?”  He passes it on to Tamara, who takes just a light pull before handing it off to Quentin.  Q takes a couple of tokes and passes it on to Mouse.

Tamara sits up, feeling just a bit spinny, taking in a deep breath in an attempt to clear her head before the dissection lab she has this afternoon.  She smiles down at Quentin, who flashes his own pearly whites in a wolfish grin.

“You’re not leaving,”  he asks.

“Yeah, babe, I can’t afford to miss the lab.”  She leans over and gives him a kiss before she struggles to her feet.  She looks down at Barbie laying there.  The girl is totally wasted. “You coming Barb?”

“I don’t think it’d be such a good idea Tam.  I think they’d notice.” And she starts in giggling.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.  Later.”  Tamara waves to the group and hurries off to the Bio building.  The air feels good, the sun is soft and warm but she’s got a bit of a head.  That’s it for me, she thinks, not for the first time.  Can’t afford to toke up at lunch any more. No way no how.

Tamara has wanted to be a doctor since she was small.  Since her brother got the doctor kit she wanted for Christmas.

But she’ll have a real doctor kit soon.

She’s worked too hard and too long to get here. Slaving night and day to get the math, but she did it.  And now Tamara realizes that she has to get her head into the program or she’s gonna end up booted out.  That is not in the plan.   Stick to the program.  Get it done.

Yes.

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19

A wall mounted gargoyle holds a stack of books while red ivy begins to climb over him,Adam walks through the Oval carrying Barbie’s laptop. It is indeed crowded with students sitting, eating, walking, talking and enjoying the beautiful weather.

Adam stops, and starts slowly scanning the sea of humanity. She said she’ would be here. As his eyes travel from group to group, always looking for the brightest blondes, he simply can not see Barbie anywhere.

It is a poser. She said she would meet him here. But it is so crowded. Her cellphone must be switched off. He has already used the cafeteria pay phone to leave messages on her voice mail, so she must know he is trying to find her.

He starts to walk along the path, careful not to trip over students or gear spread out along the way. Adam carefully checks every blonde girl, but there is no sign.

He is getting some funny looks when he makes the circuit fruitlessly a second time.

But now at least he is sure she is not here. He knows Barbie is pre-med, but he has no idea of her schedule. They have no overlapping classes. He doubts the registrar will give out her information.

He knows she does not live on campus so there is no point checking the residences. Wait a minute. He has her computer. He came where she told him to come. He’s searched diligently, and she is just not here.

But she will need the laptop for just about everything.

He smiles as he pictures her making pencil notes in a lecture hall where everyone else is using a laptop.

Barbie will want her computer back. She will come looking for him.

Having a woman like Barbie looking for him, searching him out, asking people if they know where he is, would be good.

Act natural, don’t deviate from normal. Stay in character. Go to the library.

Let her find him. Adam smiles. It is just what his brother would do.

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20

the clock on the wall reads five past three

Tamara pushes open the door of the Med School wing of Christie General, a facility originally built in a sleepy rural backwater in the 19th Century. Deliberately removed from urban centers of industry and disease, quiet and fresh air was more responsible for the high rate of patient survival than many of the dubious medical practices of the day.

Sixty years later the institutional quiet was breached forever with an influx of casualties that no other facility had the beds to accept. Great War survivors of mustard gas, battlefield surgery and shell shock desperately needed housing and treatment. No longer just a quiet place where the railroad petered into a train yard, the town expanded to accommodate an ever increasing flow of visitors, sprawling down the valley to meet the river.

With an end to the war, several military surgeons followed their former patients to Christie, bringing with them surgical innovations developed in wretched battlefield conditions, triggering the transformation from sanatorium to teaching hospital, and it wasn’t long before Christie University grew up around the bustling hospital.

Tamara undresses in the locker room, slipping into scrubs and stuffing her clothes in the locker. She notes the quiet, but brushes her unease aside as she hurries to the Lab. It’s later than she thought. Damn.

Opening the door she’s surprised to find the lab empty.

Nobody here.

Nothing to cut.

WTF? Maybe she got the day wrong? Must have been rescheduled. Wish somebody had told her, given her a call, something. She could have stayed in the sun with her baby. Maybe she can still catch him.

She goes back into the hall when the men’s locker room door slams open and startles her. She whirls to look but it’s only Nick, backing out with a wheelie bin.

“Gee, Nick, you scared me. What happened to the dissection?”

Nick looks at her. He thinks she’s intelligent enough, but he knows if she doesn’t get it together soon she’s gonna be history. Her big brown eyes look so open, so serious. Probably because her pupils are so widely dilated.

“The dissection went off as scheduled at one, Tamara.”

“At one. I thought … it’s after one?”

Nick nods toward the wall clock, “It’s after three.”

She stares at him, aghast. “Oh no.”

Nick starts wheeling the sharps cart away, but he feels sorry for the girl standing there, conflicted. Maybe she’ll pull it up if he gives her a word. She looks pretty devastated. So he stops.

“Look, I know you’re really smart. But if you don’t focus you’re just not going to make it. There are too many people who want your spot. If you want an easy ride you’re in the wrong program, you want to transfer to something else ’cause there just isn’t any slack for a pre-med.”

Her head is bowed and her shoulders are shaking. But when she speaks her words are steady, though her voice is thick with tears. “Can I make up the dissection with another class?”

“Come by the office after five. I’ll see what I can do.” Nick shrugs. “I think you might make a good doctor, Tamara, but maybe not. What you do on your own time is your business, but I can smell the pot from here. And that sure isn’t the way.”

Tamara says. “It won’t happen again.”

Pushing the bin toward the store room he hears her say softly, “Thanks Nick.”

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