Copyright 2103 JC Wallace
Time for another chapter of Diventando: Becoming.
If you haven’t read the previous installments, scroll down this page and read it from the
beginning. Enjoy!
Owen pulled his knees to his chest and
tried to get comfortable in the hard plastic chair. He was past exhausted.
After his dream-filled night, Owen was at the hospital in Burlington waiting to
see Dr. Noel. Wayne had called the office and low and behold, they had told
Owen to come in to see the doctor. In addition, the doctor was going to fast
track his tests and get the results today. What specialist did that? Owen
didn't care. The sooner he knew his fate the better.
Now that he was there, Owen couldn’t express how
much he hated hospitals. The clinical surroundings reminded him of his
mortality, which was nearing the end of the line. He was here to find out, not
if, but when he was going to die. He’d already had his blood drawn and had a CT
scan. Now, he only had to wait for the doctor to deliver the bad news.
And it would be bad news.
A shudder ran through Owen. Soon he’d be leaving his
family, his friends and Turk. Owen closed his eyes. Turk. The dream from the night before still clouded his mind and he
relived it over and over. The vibrations, the all-encompassing power behind
that bodiless voice, the bite of the wind against his skin, and Turk, all had a
tangibility that belied the fact that it had only been a dream. If Owen focused
too closely on those sensations, he’d sink into the dream as if it were
happening again. Earlier, on the way to the hospital, Wayne had needed to shake and yell
at Owen to pull him from the catatonic state. Despite the freakishness of
the dream lurking into the day, Owen
shivered, recalling Turk's bare chest with those hard muscles and the man had been wearing a
kilt. Where the hell had the kilt come from? Owen didn’t have a kilt fetish—or hadn’t
had one until now. Those muscular, hairy thighs partially covered by the red
and black plaid kilt, the “V” of Turk’s waist, the dark hair peeking out from—
“Owen
McIntyre.”
Owen
startled and opened his eyes. A man with colorful tattooed sleeves on each arm and wearing grey scrubs stood before Owen. He definitely
didn’t fit the stereotypical nurses Owen had encountered.
“Follow
me,” the man said, without cracking a smile.
A few
chairs away, Wayne had stretched out with his hat pulled over his eyes. Owen nudged
his cousin’s ankle and Wayne jumped up and off the chair, as if someone had lit a
firecracker.
Wayne
rubbed at his face. “Must have fallen asleep. Where to now.”
“I’m
heading to see the doctor. Go back to sleep.”
Wayne
nodded and slumped back onto the chair. Poor guy was exhausted.
Owen
followed the nurse into the examination room. Owen sat on the exam table. The nurse sat at the computer and
clicked a few buttons.
“So, this is your first time here. We received the
records from your former doctor. Leukemia, huh?” The man
gave Owen a stony glance.
“Yeah,”
Owen said as the exam room door opened.
A short
man with a partially balding head came in. He was a little pudgy and unlike his
tattooed nurse, he actually smiled. Holding out a hand, he approached Owen, “Hello,
Owen. I’m Dr. Noel.”
Owen shook
the man’s sweaty hand. “Hi.”
The nurse
rose and stood near the door. The doctor sat at the computer and clicked some
keys then turned to Owen.
“Owen, I’ve
read over the files you sent. I must say I don’t receive many paper files
anymore.”
Owen tried
not to appear nervous. He hadn’t actually come by the files legally. Thanks to
Drew and his hacking skills, Owen had obtained his records without alerting his
doctor at home or his parents.
“Um, my
mom keeps copies of everything. I think it makes her feel like she’s doing
something.”
The doctor
nodded and then cocked his head. “You were treated by a Dr. Celo?”
Owen
nodded.
“It seems
that most of your treatments were done in his office. Did you ever spend time
in a hospital?”
“Not a
hospital, no. Dr. Celo has his own clinic that has some rooms in it. I spent
time there when I was really sick.”
Dr. Noel
stood and took a few steps towards Owen. “And Dr. Celo first diagnosed you when
you were sixteen?”
Owen
nodded. “Yeah. He’s been my doctor since I was a kid.”
“From his
credentials, I see he is a general practitioner who has treated you for a rare form
of leukemia for over ten years.”
Was that a
question? Owen shrugged. His doctor was good. Was there some jealousy coming to
the surface here?
Dr. Noel
narrowed his eyes. “Since you’re initial diagnosis, you’ve been in remission
several times; however you’ve never been in remission for longer than two years.”
Owen bit
down on his cheek and nodded again. Was this some kind of pre-death sentence
torture to numb him for the final blow? It might actually work.
Dr. Noel
crossed his arms over his stout chest and pursed his lips. “Well Owen, I have
reviewed your test results and consulted with one of my colleagues.”
There was
an annoying pause and Owen wanted to crawl out of his skin. The doctor was
eyeing Owen suspiciously, as if trying to decide something. A sudden need to
flee flooded Owen’s veins and twisted his stomach. He should have gone to Dr.
Celo.
Dr. Noel
dropped his arms and a smile came to his face. “I have good news and some not
so good news for you."
Owen
wanted to smack the smile off the doctor’s face. “Hit me with it.”
“You don’t
have leukemia.”
The words
circled Owen’s head like angry bees, buzzing and buzzing. Did he say...?
“You mean
it’s still in remission? But I’ve been sick,” he insisted.
As Owen said
the words, the doctor shook his head.
“No, Owen.
You don’t have leukemia and you never have.”
Owen was
sure his mouth was hanging open.
“Yes, I
have checked your test results and consulted with a leading oncologist and his
conclusions match mine,” Dr. Noel said with annoying smugness.
Owen
hadn’t imagined being sick all of those years. He’d damned near died several
times. That was probably the bad news-something else was wrong with him.
“So what’s
the bad news?” Owen asked, bravely. He’d come ready for a death sentence.
What could be worse news than that?
The door
opened, and two very large men dressed in black from head to toe stepped into
the room and closed the door behind them. Owen hunched back as the room
capacity shrank.
“The bad
news? You won't be leaving the hospital.”
Check out
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wtf??!!! Talk about a twist in a story i don't even know what ......damn
ReplyDeleteI'm kinda horrified where my mind went about the possibilities of where this could go. I'm hoping i'm wrong. lol
great chapter (I wish the rules were more than a 1000 words but oh well.)
Hope you have a fabulous weekend :-)
Yael
Thanks Yael. I'm kind of wondering what possibilities you thought of, LOL. Thanks for reading. PS don't tell anyone but I was well over the 1000 word mark this week.
DeleteOh heck. My heart is racing. What has Dr Celo been doing to him all these years. And what are they going to do to him now? Fab story. Fab writing. I'm a fan
ReplyDeleteThanks that means a lot. I am so far behind on reading everyone else's stories but hope to get caught up soon!
Delete