The Legend of Safehaven

by R. A. Comunale

  Early on, Nancy had sworn to herself she would never let Carmelita go through what had happened to her. Working at her parents’ nursing home had sucked away much of the time a teenage girl needed for socializing. Young women deserve lives of their own and the time to enjoy them.

  Carmie, as her brothers called her, had no end of boyfriends. She was beautiful, smart, and wise enough not to scare them off with her intellect. She would be starting college soon, living on her own with all of the incumbent risks and benefits.

  Nancy prayed she had prepared her sufficiently for the challenges that lay ahead.

  On her birthday—an approximation based on Carmelita’s memory, her guardians had pooled their resources and bought her a car. She needed it to get to the local hospital each day, where she worked as a translator. The burgeoning Spanish-speaking population in the area needed a voice to help them.

  Galen had checked out the situation before allowing Carmelita to become involved in hospital work, and Edison had given her a cell phone to carry in case of emergency on the road. He even installed his own, custom-designed tracking system, in case she was unable to contact them for help.

  Despite all the precautions, the care and concern, the elders worried more and more as the children grew older. They understood that the world the youngsters were about to enter was much less forgiving of mistakes than the world of their own youth.

  God help them.

  “I wish we could have found some photos of their parents,” Edison mused.

  “The boys are most likely their mirrors,” Galen added. “Maybe someday, if Cuba ever becomes an open society again, the kids can obtain the official files on Sandoval and Felicita Hidalgo.”

  “Okay, I’m done,” she said, emerging finally from the bathroom. “You’d think I was living in there for all your complaining.”

  Both boys shoved past her, as she walked out with her hair rolled up in a towel. Neither could think of a reply that wouldn’t have earned a reprimand from their tios and tia.

  “Tia Nancy, I’m going over to the hospital tonight. The supervisor wants me to help out with the trainee translators. Is that all right with you?”

  “What time do you expect to be back?” Nancy asked.

  “Probably by eleven-thirty. It’s Friday, so I can sleep late tomorrow.”

  “Carmelita.”

  “Yes, Tio Galen?”

  “Is he nice?”

  She blushed.

  How does he always know?

  Michael Dimitriades was a second-year engineering student working in the hospital tech lab part-time to earn tuition money. His dream was to become an aerospace engineer. He had met Carmelita in the cafeteria two weeks before, when crowding forced them to share a single table. He had spent so much time staring at her he couldn’t finish his food. She laughed when he lifted his soda can and missed his mouth, because he was so distracted by her.

  She brought paper napkins to help dry his wet trousers and ego, and the gates of introduction opened.

  Michael’s parents were from Greece, and he had grown up in a bilingual household. Soon Carmelita started using him to practice her Greek language skills. He was amazed at the ease with which she picked up the words and grammatical constructions of his parents’ mother tongue.

  He began thinking of inviting her to meet his parents, but he hesitated. He had a career to pursue, and she hadn’t even started college yet—though from what his co-workers had told him, she’d probably finish before he did.

  “Yes, Tio Galen, he is nice. His name is Michael Dimitriades. He’s studying engineering and working part time in the tech lab.”

  “Well, just be sure you’re home before midnight, Cinderella,” Nancy called out.

  The brothers climbed into their sister’s car. The guardians watched them through the living room picture window, each wistfully remembering the energies of youth.

  “Carmie, Tonio and I want to go with you to the hospital this afternoon. We found out there might be some part-time work for us there. Okay?”

  Great, just what I don’t need, two brothers getting in the way of me and Michael.

  “Do the folks know you guys are doing this?”

  “Uh … not yet,” Freddie replied. “We were going to call them from school later today.”

  “You’d better get permission, or you’re not going anywhere but back home.”

  “Sure! Can we borrow your cell phone later?”

  School couldn’t pass quickly enough. Freddie kept thinking about the opening he had heard about in the tech lab, while Tonio entertained thoughts of becoming a pharmacy technician. And Carmelita … well …Carmelita just dreamed of Michael.

  “Hello?”

  “Tia Nancy, Tonio and I have found out about some jobs over at the hospital. They sound really neat. There’s an opening for a pharmacy tech and another for electronics lab tech and …uh … we …uh … thought we could go with Carmelita after school to check it out—okay? ”

  “Why didn’t you tell us about this at breakfast, Freddie?”

  “Well … uh … we … we … just heard about it today.”

  Tonio stood near as his older brother continued to stammer.

  “What’s she saying?” he whispered.

  “Shh! She’s thinking.”

  “What’s the work schedule?” Nancy asked.

  “Friday and Saturday evenings from seven to eleven,” Freddie replied. “We could ride home with Carmie tonight.”

  Nancy considered the prospect. The boys were doing well academically, and they wouldn’t be working on schooldays.

  “All right, go look it over. But we’ll want to talk about this when you get home this evening.”

  “Great … I mean … thanks, Tia Nancy. Bye!”

  Her gut told her something was not quite kosher. She called the men into the living room and related what she had just heard. They also expressed some concern about the way the boys had sprung this news, but they agreed to wait before making any decisions.

  Nancy brought the teapot and cups from the kitchen. She opened the curtains, and Edison put on their favorite classical-music radio station. They sat there, staring at the rolling hills and thinking about the kids taking their first steps toward independence.

  Carmelita led her brothers to the side entrance of the hospital. There the boys split off and headed toward their potential employment sites, while she walked down the main corridor to the interpreters’ office.

  She liked her job immensely. Imagine, actually getting paid to meet so many different people admitted to or visiting the hospital! As soon as she reached her desk she made a quick call to the tech lab.

  Better warn Michael about Freddie!

  She had barely finished her call, when the supervisor came through the door.

  “Ms. Hidalgo, there’s a strange situation down in the ER. The floor nurse says the police have brought in someone who appears confused, and he doesn’t speak English.”

  “Do they know the language he’s using?”

  “No one’s quite sure. Would you see what you can find out?”

  It’s going to be one of those nights—first the boys and now this.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She took the side stairs down to the emergency-room level and entered the circular nursing station. Things looked quiet. She went up to the unit secretary.

  “Ginny, what’s the story?”

  “Hi, Carm. We’ve got a weird one tonight. Glad you’re here to cover it. The cops brought in this big guy. He must weigh three-hundred pounds and looks like a sumo wrestler, but he’s not Asian. They found him wandering around the town park chasing pigeons and throwing small stones at people. They were able to restrain him, but no one can get near enough to determine what’s wrong. And he’s jabbering away something awful.”

  “Why can’t they get near him?”

  “He keeps lowering his head and charging like a bull. Good thing his hands are cuffed.”

  “And who might you be
?” the lab supervisor sniffed.

  “Sir, I’m Federico Hidalgo. I called about the part-time opening in the tech lab. My sister works in the translators’ office, and my uncles are Dr. Galen and Dr. Edison.”

  He stared at the electronics array, the heart of the ongoing maintenance and upkeep of all the expensive medical equipment and computers for the hospital: row after row of testing devices he already had become familiar with from Tio Eddie’s workshop.

  The supervisor led Freddie to another young man as tall and darkly handsome as he was.

  “This is Mr. Dimitriades. Mr. Dimitriades, this is Mr. … what did you say your name was?”

  “Hidalgo.”

  “Show him the ropes, Mr. Dimitriades.”

  He turned and left.

  “Hidalgo?”

  “Yep, and I’ll bet you’re the Michael my sister is crazy about.”

  She’s crazy about me? Wow!

  “Well, if you’re the Freddie your sister talks about, you’re an electronics wizard. Let’s see what you can do.”

  Carmie thinks I’m hot stuff with electronics? Wow!

  Michael showed Freddie a bench holding the guts of a defibrillator.

  “It’s not holding a charge, and when it does it’s erratic at best.”

  Freddie immediately began mentally deconstructing the chassis.

  Hmm. Simple circuit, regulated voltage going to a storage capacitor, which would discharge a measured amount of joules when the firing button’s closed. The amount stored and discharged would depend on the condition of the capacitor. If there’s leakage, the charge level would drop. And if it’s erratic, the regulator in the charging system would also be defective.

  “Where are the spare parts, Michael?”

  “Call me Mike.”

  He pointed to two cabinets and filing drawers.

  Freddie rummaged through the parts and picked out a replacement for the capacitor and a new triac regulator. He sat at the bench, disconnected the bad parts, wired in the new, and stood back.

  “Give it a try, Mike.”

  He turned on the power, held the discharge plates a few inches apart, and pressed the firing button. A satisfying electrical snap between the plates made both of them smile.

  “Fast work, Fred.”

  “Call me Freddie.”

  “Okay, now let’s see if it holds and is putting out the right juice. If so, we’re home free. By the way, I’d like to ask you something about your sister…”

  “Antonio Hidalgo, please come in.”

  He was the last of the applicants for the pharmacy-tech position. He had waited nervously, while the other seven in turn entered the director of pharmacy’s office, and he watched as each departed, disappointed faces saying it all.

  Wonder what happened?

  “Tell me, Mr. Hidalgo, why should I hire you?”

  What could he say? That he wanted to earn money? No, that didn’t sound right. That he knew chemistry backwards and forwards and, thanks to Tio Galen, he knew more about pharmacology than most of the students in the pharmacology program?

  Uh-uh. Too much like bragging—even if it’s true, which it is. Okay, let’s try something simple.

  “I know chemistry, Dr. Turnisky. I am precise in what I do, and I know how to follow orders.”

  Turnisky stared at him and smiled.

  “That last comment saved your neck, Mr. Hidalgo. What we do here requires knowledge, that’s true, and we need utmost precision. But we don’t want hotdogs. If you are told to process a drug order, you must do it correctly and precisely, and follow the orders given you.”

  Tonio held his breath.

  “All right, let’s try you out tonight. Sam here will show you your duties.”

  Carmelita arrived at the holding cell used for prisoners and ER patients who appeared violent. The two town police officers guarding him watched her admiringly.

  “I’m Carmelita Hidalgo. I work with the translator’s office here. What’s the story?”

  The officers took turns repeating what Ginny had already told her. She approached the locked door and opened the viewing window, which was heavily barred and glass enclosed. Inside she saw the large, handcuffed man. He was dirty and bruised from the nightstick blows necessary to subdue him. He sat on the metal bench, rocking back and forth. She couldn’t hear his words through the protective glass, so she started to unlock the door to go in.

  “Whoa, Miss! You don’t want to go in there!”

  “Yes, I do, and I’ll need the help of you two strong officers to protect me.”

  She opened the door and stepped in. Now she could hear the man’s words.

  Strange, Spanish and yet not Spanish. Sounds almost like Romany. No … wait … it’s Basque!

  For fun about a month earlier she had read about the strange and mysterious Basque people and their language, and now here was a person who actually spoke it.

  She moved farther into the room and tried a greeting phrase. The man looked at her through bruised eyelids and facial swelling. She kept her voice low and spoke slowly. It seemed to work. He stopped rocking and focused on her words. His facial expression softened, as he heard simple words in his native tongue spoken by this pretty young woman.

  He immediately felt the need to be polite, so he stood up to offer her his seat. That’s when the mistake happened. The two policemen, thinking he was threatening the young woman, rushed into the cell holding out their sticks. He saw his former attackers coming at him and began his head charge, butting one officer right out of the room. The other one backed out and closed the heavy door behind him, leaving Carmelita still inside.

  Merde! Now what?

  The big man started pacing back and forth becoming more and more agitated. He slammed his cuffed fists against the seat frame, until the chain connecting the two cuffs snapped. Then he turned and looked at her. He shook his head like a confused bull and pointed to the bench. She came forward hesitantly and sat down beside him, watching his every move.

  He’s just a big, scared kid in a man’s body.

  She began to sing a children’s song from a book she had read about Basques.

  His agitation melted away. He smiled through his swollen face and accompanied her in a heavy rough bass. Then he started to cry. She put her hand on his shoulder and attempted to ask him what had happened.

  “My wife leave me,” he answered, in English. “She take kids. I no know where they went. No one tell me.”

  He had come to the United States to make a better life for his family. Now he had lost his family, and no one would help him. He had reached the end of his rope.

  Carmelita tried her best to acquire more information: his name and address, where he worked, all of the necessary bureaucratic bits of information without which we are non-entities. Then she stood up, still keeping an arm on his shoulder.

  “I have to leave you for a few minutes. I am going to speak with the authorities about your situation. Maybe we can help you.”

  She removed her arm slowly, walked even more slowly toward the door, turned, and smiled at him. He remained seated, while the two astonished police officers opened the door and let her out.

  “Tonio?”

  “Yeah, Sam?”

  “We need to get this filled, stat, for room three twelve. Let’s see you do your stuff.”

  Tonio examined the order sent by the unit secretary. Dr. Grimaldi had ordered high dosages of IV third-generation cephalosporin for one of his elderly patients with atypical pneumonia. The appropriate cultures were pending.

  Tonio pulled up the patient’s medication profile on the computer monitor.

  Uh-oh!

  The patient also was taking high-dose Coumadin, a blood thinner, to prevent clots forming on his artificial heart valve. This particular antibiotic was correct and good, except when the patient was on blood thinners. Then the thinning effect went wild and the patient could easily bleed to death.

  He looked up at Sam, who was watching him in a deceptive
ly casual manner.

  “Sam, I can’t fill this. It’ll kill the patient. Can we get the ordering physician on the phone?”

  The older man checked the order again, then the computer screen, and saw the patient’s drug profile. He picked up the phone, dialed the paging office, and asked the operator to page Dr. Grimaldi. Fifteen seconds later, he heard the gruff voice.

  “Grimaldi here, what’s the screw-up?”

  Sam held out the phone to Tonio. He grinned as the boy took the phone and tried to get his voice lower than a squeak.

  “Dr. Grimaldi, this is pharmacy tech Hidalgo. I’m sorry to disturb you, but we have an order written by you for your patient in…”

  Grimaldi cut him off.

  “So fill it, damn it, and quit bugging me!”

  “Sir, your patient is also on high-dose Coumadin. The drug you ordered will send his INR through the ceiling, and he could bleed to death.”

  No immediate response through the telephone receiver, but Tonio could hear Grimaldi mutter, “Oh shit!”

  The doctor cleared his throat.

  “Uh … thanks, kid, you’re right. You saved my ass tonight. What’s your name?”

  “Antonio Hidalgo.”

  “Aren’t you old Galen’s nephew?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “I studied under him. He would have had my head if I’d made that error in residency. Give him my best and tell him I’ll give you my highest recommendation if you need it for med school.”

  “Freddie, come on, we need to get over to OR five. Leave your stuff here. We’ll need to suit up and get gloved to go in there.”

  “What’s the problem, Mike?”

  “They’ve got an old guy in there for pacemaker replacement. He has one of the models that can be programmed and recharged externally, and it has a built-in defibrillator. The pacer won’t take the reprogramming, so they want to replace it. The problem is the patient is very frail, and the replacement procedure could kill him.”

  They ran down the hallway and took the staircase to the operating suite section, where Mike led Freddie to the changing room. They stripped, put on scrub suits and shoe and head covers, and did the mandatory five minute scrubbing before being assisted into gowns and gloves. The automatic door opener hissed, as Freddie made his first entrance into an OR.