On Time (Persaud Girl)
Page 40
“Positive!” Mary nodded. “Did you call her grandparents?”
“I am not calling them!” Matt declared. “Suppose sheis missing? I am not going to be the one to tell Ravi and Sylvia Persaud that their granddaughter was kidnapped! I don’t want any vendettas or heart-attacks on my conscience!”
Mary rolled her eyes. Her brother was being melodramatic. “I am sure she was not kidnapped!”
Matt could not be as assured as his sister. He had staked out Klao’s apartment complex for much of the afternoon, waiting for her to come home. Her car was not there. Stacey, who usually walked Minx, said she had not seen the CRV when she came home from work on Wednesday. Matt decided that if he did not hear from Klao or Bianca soon, he was going to call her parents.
Ten minutes later, impatience got the better of him and he dialled Bianca again. This time she answered.
“Bianca?”
“Yes?”
She, too, sounded ridiculously formal, but Matt decided to ignore her tone. “It’s Matt. I am trying to get in touch with Klao…”
“Oh so now you want to get in touch with Klao?” Bianca said snidely. “Now you want to talk to her. What makes you think she wants to talk to you after how you treated her, Pastor St. James?”
Matt frowned. He was not going to take on Bianca Persaud that evening. He just wanted to talk to Klao. “I just need to know that she is alright, Bianca…”
“No, she’s not alright!” Bianca snapped. “But she will be, as soon as she gets over you! I have to go…”
“Bianca, wait! Where is she?”
“I am not telling you!”
“Please…”
“Why should it matter where she is? What are you going to do? Go and torment her once more? Ignore her calls and send her an email telling her she is ‘off the hook’? I batted for you, Matt. I thought you could be her one, but I was so wrong. I thought you were better than harbouring malice. I thought you were capable of grace and forgiveness. Isn’t that what Christianity is all about? How can you profess to be a man of God – a Minister, when you cannot even forgive? I am very disappointed in you, Matt. Klao was right. You don’t deserve her – not because she is a Persaud, but because you are only half a man!”
“You’re right,” Matt conceded. “I don’t deserve her. I know I don’t and it kills me every day because I just love her so much, and want to be with her so badly. Klao sacrificed a lot for me, Bianca, and I want to talk to her. I want to make sure she is okay, and most importantly, I want to make things right with us. I am a prick, I know. I am a man of God, but I am still a man, and I am not infallible. You understand forgiveness. You understand grace. Can you please show me some now and tell me where she is? Or at least ask her to call me, so we can finally put this mess behind us? I am begging you Bianca. Please…”
Bianca was quiet for a while, and Matt was sure the call had been dropped.
“Bianca…”
“Mobay,” Bianca said finally. “She went home…”
“Thank you!” Matt breathed.
“I told you this because you are going to go and find her and you are going to make up with her!” Bianca instructed. “You are going to hug her and not let go for a very long time, and you are going to tell her that you love her. And she is going to tell you that she loves you too -- which is actually a pretty good deal, because, it means, as she has already proven, she will do anything on the off chance it'll make you happy.”
Matt smiled. “Thank you.” He repeated.
He hung up from Bianca and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 10:35 at night.
“She’s in Mobay!” He told Mary.
“So what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to Mobay to fetch her, and to tell her that I love her!”
“Are you sure Matt?” Mary asked, wide-eyed. “Don’t you think it is just easier – and healthier to let go?”
Matt shook his head. “No. Because as textbook healthy as the ‘letting go’ theory sounds, it doesn't apply to me. This isn't a case of teen romance gone sour. I know what I want: I want her. She’s really hurting right now and whether she knows it or not, she needs me and I have absolutely no intention of letting her go.”
“Okay, fine!” Mary conceded. “We’ll go tomorrow…”
“I’m going tonight! Right now! And you’re not coming with me!” Matt hopped up the stairs two at a time to get his overnight bag.
“What?” Mary followed him up the stairs. “Don’t be a moron, Matthew! It is minutes to eleven. You can’t turn up at the people’s house at two or three in the morning.”
“Why not?” Matt pulled a half way decent looking pair of jeans from his closet. He wondered whether he needed to change the pair he had on. He decided against it, and chucked the jeans and a shirt into his battered duffel.
Mary looked in disgust at the duffel, the jeans he shoved in, and at her brother. She wondered how they could possibly be twins. Matt’s fashion sense – in fact his basic common sense – was non-existent! “Because you don’t do things like that, Matt. What do you think this is? A soap opera?”
“Mary, I have wasted one whole month being a jackass! It all ends tonight. It’s not every day that a girl comes along who gives me butterflies, and if I don’t go get her tonight, I may not go at all, and then I will have to live the rest of my life without her – in my own private hell. I am not chancing that!”
“But Matt. It is night! You cannot see to drive so far at night!”
“Of course I can see!” He finished packing his bag, and headed back downstairs. Mary followed him. She ran behind him as he got to his car and shoved the duffel to the back seat.
“Suppose Dr Persaud doesn’t let you in the house so late?”
“Then I sleep in the car.” Matt got in behind the steering wheel and put on his seatbelt.
Mary held on to the car door, preventing him from closing it. “Suppose…”
“Mary! I am going! Let go of the door before I close it on your fingers!”
“Matt, think about this…”
“I have thought about it, Mary. And I am going… Please let go of the door!”
Mary sighed. “Okay. Just drive safely please, for the love of God. And call me when you get there. The second that you reach.”
“I will!” Matt turned the ignition.
“And if they don’t let you in, go to a hotel. Do not sleep in the car.”
“Yes, Mary.”
“Do you have Daddy’s credit card?”
“In my wallet, Mary!” Matt was trying to back the Tiida out of the driveway without running over his sister.
“You will be safe, right? I don’t want anything to happen to you on the road. I don’t want to be an only child.”
“I will be fine,” Matt assured his sister. “And if I get run off the road, you know the blue suit I wore music day, that you said I looked handsome in? You can bury me in that!”
Mary was not amused. “Don’t even joke about that!”
Matt chuckled. “I’ll be fine, Mary! I will come back tomorrow, and if God answers my prayers, I will bring you back a sister-in-law!”
***
Matt glanced at the digital clock on his dashboard. It was 2:15 am. He was only about half hour away from Klao’s house, and he was glad. He was beginning to get tired, and his WOW 1 to 3 CDs had run out, and now the fourth of his 6 CD changer was playing ballads from ‘Marcus and Maureen’s Special Day’. Mary must have left one of her million and one wedding souvenir CDs in his car, subjecting him to at least an hour of ‘Unchained Melody’, ‘Butterfly Kisses’ and ‘Nothing’s Gonna Change My Love For You’. Marcus and Maureen’s wedding must have been particularly cheesy, he thought, as Hartland belted out ‘I Loved Her First’.
When he and Klao got married, Matt decided, he would not have a wedding CD, unless Klao wanted one. And if she did, he would try to convince her to put real love songs on – songs like “Oh Love That Will Not Let Me Go”, instead of the corny cra
p that Marcus and Maureen had chosen. Although… Matt turned his attention to the song that was currently playing. That ballad was not half bad. The singer crooned in a twangy southern accent the importance of never missing an opportunity to tell the people you love just how you feel. He had never heard it before, and wondered who the singer was.
Matt smiled at the words as the chorus played. This country dude certainly understood how to express his feelings with words, and Matt thought he was talking directly to him. He was glad he decided to find Klao tonight. The singer said he must, in case tomorrow never came. He did not want to wait another day to let her know how he truly felt about her. He missed her. He missed talking to her on the phone, and he missed her at the Inn, and he missed holding her. Fortunately, he had time to make it right. He prayed God would give him the right words to say to her, and that she was still willing to be with him. What an idiot he had been this past month, allowing anger and pride to get the better of him. Bianca was right. His behaviour was not befitting of a man of God. From now on, he would tell Klao every day that he loved her.
That song, Matt decided as it ended, could be on his wedding CD. He wanted to hear it again. He felt around for the buttons on the CD player, trying to figure out which one was ‘repeat’. He succeeded in ejecting the CD.
“Oh come on!” He grumbled, glancing off the road for a little bit to replace the CD. Now he was going to have to figure out what track it was. He scrolled through, glancing up at the road in time to see a figure staggering across the deserted street.
“What the…” he slammed on the brakes as his headlamps caught the pedestrian who had wandered out from nowhere in front of his car. Momentum would not allow the Tiida to stop. He was going to hit the man. Adrenalin kicked in, and Matt swung the car wildly. That was when he saw the Prado coming at top speed in the opposite direction, its headlamps on full bright beam. Matt was blinded for a moment, but he knew exactly what was going to happen. In order to avoid hitting the pedestrian he was going to have full impact with the Prado. It was a split second occurrence, but it seemed like a lifetime, as his 27 years flashed before his eyes. He did not feel fear. He did not even feel the need to pray ‘that prayer’. He only felt regret. First, regret that Mary was going to have to live the rest of her life, against her will, as an only child; second, regret that he would never give his father grandchildren, and third, regret that, for him, tomorrow would not come, and he would not have the chance to tell Klao he loved her before he died.
***
“Heads we stay two more hours, tails we leave right now!” Darrin Persaud pulled the coin from his wallet that he had shoved into his locker when he went on duty twenty hours earlier.”
“Oh for crap’s sake!” His twin rolled his eyes. “Now you are using a coin to decide if you stay at work or not? My shift ended two hours ago. I’m going home before my wife either shoots me or divorces me!”
“Suppose you go and a good trauma comes in?” Darrin asked
Dylan shrugged out of his white coat and glared at his brother. “You’re sick! There is no such thing as a ‘good trauma’!”
“Whatever!” Darrin poured himself a cup of herbal tea from the pot that was kept in the Doctors’ lounge. “I’m staying. Perhaps I can get some reading done. It’s not like I have anything running home to anyway. Might as well stay here where I can be useful -- you know, save a life; play God for a little while...”
“You are sick!” Dylan repeated. “If you want to be useful, you can go over to the house and check on your sister. She’s a mess!”
“Did Mommy tell you what exactly happened with her and the pastor?” Darrin asked, concerned.
“No. All she told me was that that they broke up. He won’t talk to her and somewhere in the middle of that, KoKo lost her job…” Dylan replied. “What do you think happened?”
“How should I know?” Darrin took a sip of his herbal tea and glanced at his brother. “I look like ‘Miss Cleo’ the seer to you?”
“Damn!” Dylan shook his head. “And I really liked that guy, you know. Looked solid…”
“Poor KoKo Nut…” Darrin could not imagine how his little sister was feeling. He would not survive if he lost both his job and Synclaire.
“I bet it is because you went and told him that she hooked up with that Shalkowski guy!” Dylan accused.
“Oh so you’re saying it is my fault?” Darrin pointed at himself. “I just…” Both their pagers went off simultaneously, putting an end to the conversation. “Crap! Incoming!”
“Looks like you got your wish after all!” Dylan added, as he sprung into action.
The twins raced to the ambulance bay in time to see the emergency team unloading a motionless body on a stretcher. It was battered almost to a pulp and unrecognisable.
Darrin got to the ambulance first. “Talk to me!”
“Twenty-seven year old male victim of a head-on collision!” The technician barked. “Seatbelt loosed after his vehicle rolled. Tachycardiac and hypotensive en route, with obvious head and chest injuries…”
Darrin looked at the skinny, young man on the gurney, only a few years younger than he was, and wondered how he could possibly still be alive.
“He looks like road kill!” Dylan commented, as the trauma team on duty moved to action, rushing the patient into the trauma centre. “What the hell happened?”
“Nissan Tiida versus Toyota Prado!” One of the Technicians explained shortly.
“And obviously the Prado won!” Dylan responded wryly.
“Witnesses said the Tiida swerved to avoid hitting a pedestrian and drove into the Prado going at the speed of light. Vehicle rolled three times after impact, and neither the Prado driver nor the pedestrian has a scratch! Both were as drunk as a skunk!”
“Typical!” Darrin spat. This happened far too often for his liking. One life snuffed out because some other idiot chose to drink and drive. Multiple blunt force trauma protocol, people! Let’s go! Has he been ID’d?”
“St. James – Matthew Levi, according to his driver’s license,” Renee, another resident surgeon replied.
The twins stopped short, both recognising the name at the same time.
“Damn! It’s Klao’s pastor!” Dylan gasped.
“Let’s get him on a monitor!” Darrin realised that he had to make sure he lived. “Check his ventilation.”
“Monitor’s up!”
“I am barely getting a pulse.”
Dylan removed his stethoscope and listened to the chest. “Decreased breath sounds on the right. Possible collapsed lung. Tubing him.…”
“The belly is full of blood – probably from the spleen…” Darrin looked at the ultra sound.
“His pulse ox is 88 over 2….” Dylan reported. He checked Matt’s eyes. “Pupils equal and reactive. Contusion, upper left quadrant…
“Depressed skull fracture, with a probable bleed…!”
“Brain injury!” Darrin winced. “There’d have to be. Who from Neuro is on call?” Before he got his response, the EKG began to go crazy.
“V-Fib!” Dylan yelled. “He’s crashing! We’re losing him!”
“Not on my watch we aren’t!” Darrin seethed, starting chest compressions. He was not going to explain to his little sister why he had allowed her boyfriend to flat line in his ER. “Gimme a high dose epi; start a dopamine drip wide open, and get those paddles ready!”
“Paddles ready!” Renee handed them to him.
“Charge to 120 please?”
“Charging!”
“Alright, stand back!” He shocked Matt’s surprisingly well-ripped chest and prayed for an instant reaction.
All eyes simultaneously moved to the EKG. No change.
“120 again!”
“Charging to 120!” Dylan repeated.
“Back up! C’mon, c’mon, preacher man!” He pleaded mentally, as he shocked the chest again.
“Still in V-Fib!” Dylan announced. “Darrin, I think...”
“Don’t even
say it!” Darrin snapped, resuming chest compressions. “Shut up and let me do the thinking. Let’s crank this mother up. Gimme 200, please!”
“He’s been down a while and even if you managed to get a rhythm, his brain is probably cooked!” Dylan tried to get his brother to see reason.
“Clear, please?” Darrin ignored his brother. Still a flat line. “Dammit! Up the charge to 260 joules yesterday!”
“D, I know how you feel, but this is pointless...”
“Did you just hear me say 260?” Darrin wondered why Dylan was choosing that auspicious moment to second guess him. Didn’t he realise it was Klao’s boyfriend’s life that was hanging in the balance?
“No, D! We need to call it...”
“I am not calling anything! This is my emergency room, and this is our sister’s boyfriend, and he is not going to die!”
“Darrin...”
“When you can show me your fellowship in emergency medicine, then you can tell me when I need to ‘call it’!” Darrin snapped, not looking at his brother. “In the meantime, I am the consultant on duty and this ismy patient, and you are still a resident. If you are not going to help, Dr Persaud, then I suggest you get the hell out of my ER! Otherwise, charge the damn paddles to 260 and back the hell up!”
Darrin knew that the other doctors, his brother and father included, thought he was arrogant and had a God complex, and most times they were right. But this time was different. He had to make sure Matt lived -- for Klao.
“260!” Renee repeated, handing Darrin the paddles.
No change. And Darrin thought he was going to either slap Matt’s lifeless body or start to cry.
“You better not die!” Darrin pumped Matt’s chest for all he was worth.
“Darrin...” Dylan began again.
“Do you hear me, Pastor Matthew St. James? You are not going to die!” He seethed. “You think you’re going to die when my sister is at home waiting for you, you son of a bitch? You are not going to die on me before I get the chance to slap the crap out of you for breaking her heart!” He turned to Dylan. “You think 260 again, and push another dose of epi?”