Radium Halos: Part 2

by May, W. J.

  Tossing the paper bag in the bin, I headed back to the living room and settled on the couch. The television had the news on. I grabbed the remote off the coffee table and turned the volume down a few notches. The anchor woman rambled on about the sports scores, a robbery at a betting shop in the county over, and then in the top corner of the TV flashed a body covered in a tarp. The screen flipped to a reporter talking about the John Doe body found at the old mine.

  I leaned forward, trying to memorize everything she had to say. Maybe there’d be something worth sharing with the group.

  “…nothing more has been determined about the John Doe found last week at the closed down uranium mine in Elliot Lake. Police have been unable to identify the body and are waiting for further testing results to come in. If anyone has any information, police are asking you to call them, or the anonymous tip-line number on the bottom of the screen.”

  The cops hadn’t figured out anything more, and neither had we. Our “talents” obviously weren’t that useful.

  A click from a door opening had my head turning toward the hallway. Kieran stepped out of the bathroom, a white towel wrapped around his waist. I couldn’t stop myself from staring at his long upper body, lean and rippled with taut muscles. His shaggy wet hair dripped water and splayed in every direction. I heard each droplet that splashed against his skin.

  I swallowed hard. A yearning inside me begged to know what his hair and body felt like against my fingers… and against my skin. A part of me was tempted to follow him down the hall. Then reality set in, and I almost giggled out loud at the thought of scaring the crap out him and his towel dropping to the floor… I covered my mouth. The tramp inside me needed to take a long holiday… or a cold shower.

  Kieran took two strides toward his room and paused. His hand squeezed the knot in the side of his towel. He slowly turned.

  “Zoezey. Am I running late?” His brows shot up and tiny, adorable lines creased his forehead.

  “N-No. I’m a bit early. The door was open.” I tried to keep my eyes on his face, but they kept trying to drift down.

  He smiled. “Give me a sec.” The hot body disappeared into his bedroom. “Is yer dad’s office at the hospital?” Kieran spoke as if I were in the room with him, I could hear him that clearly.

  “Yeah. He’s got a spot in the wing Brent’s dad built a couple of years ago.” I spoke, then realized he couldn’t hear me so I repeated it, louder.

  “Is thar anything he doesn’t have his hands into?”

  “My dad?”

  “No, Brent’s.” Kieran came out of his room wearing jeans and a black shirt with a Ranger’s logo over his heart. “Seems like the guy owns half the town.”

  “He knows how to make money, and spend it.” I shrugged. “He’s done good stuff for Elliot Lake. My dad chased after the provincial government and federal for years trying to get a better hospital. They wouldn’t budge, so Brent’s dad pulled some strings and donated the wing.” Under Brent’s dad’s insistence, Dad had his own lab added for some medical thing he was researching.

  “Nice guy.” Kieran didn’t sound convinced.

  I had a hard time arguing, and I wasn’t about to bring up fathering when Kieran was obviously happier with his dad gone. Turning the TV off, I got off the couch and walked to the front door. “This shouldn’t take long. Just a bit of blood work.”

  He patted his back pocket. “Do I need me NHS card?”

  I looked at him from the corner of my eye, raising my eyebrows.

  “Me health card?” He teasingly tugged a strand of my hair.

  “I doubt it, but take it just in case.” I slipped my hand in his and pulled him outside. It seemed the natural thing to do. He locked the door and as we walked to my car, I tossed him my car keys. “You can drive.”

  With the parking pass my dad insisted I keep in the glove compartment, Kieran parked the Bug beside my dad’s Volvo. He pulled the keys out of the ignition and fiddled with the miniature guitar chain I’d bought on a class trip last year. Brent always joked it was his favorite part of my car.

  “So, what’s yer da’ like?” he asked.

  I smiled. Kieran wanted to impress my dad. “He’s cool. Worries about me too much, but that’s okay. He never remarried after he and my mom split.”

  “Yer folks not divorced?”

  I scratched the back of my neck and stared out the window. “Technically, no. They’re separated but that’s not even with proper papers. I think both of them have gone on a few dates but, never met the replacement.”

  “The replacement?”

  I turned back to watch him. “When I was, like, thirteen I made the term up. Love was never the problem between them. My mom couldn’t handle my dad being married to his work and to her. He’d’ve done anything she wanted, so he gave her space. I figured they were both looking for the replacement and were just too stupid to realize they didn’t need one. Wanna know something? I bet that once I go away to university, they’ll get back together.” I knew they didn’t break up because of me, I just hoped they’d realize how much they meant to each other when I wasn’t around.

  Kieran sat quiet for a moment, apparently digesting what I’d said. Or maybe what I didn’t say. His eyes lit up and he grinned. “You don’t seem ta be so great in the bettin’ department. Mightinbe best to avoid gambling. At all costs.”

  I pretended to punch his arm. “Ha. Funny little Scotsman.” I glanced at the clock on the car radio. “We’d better go or my dad’s going to think I stood him up.”

  We headed inside and down the slate floor hallway to Dad’s office.

  A new secretary greeted us. She was about ten years younger than Dad. Pretty, but with a face which seemed to lack any expression or feeling. Probably ticked she’s working late.

  “Dr. Taylor’ll be back in about ten minutes,” she said, barely glancing up from the file on her desk. “He’s just gone up to check on a patient in the recovery room. Have a seat.”

  Duh, I’m his daughter, lady, if you bothered to look. Kieran and I sat down in the beige-green waiting room. I picked up a magazine and absently started flipping through it, without even checking to see what I’d grabbed.

  “Do you have plans for next year? Have you chosen a university?” Kieran asked. He slid down the chair and crossed his ankles, fingers entwined and his thumbs tapping a pattern against his shirt.

  “I do, in a sense. Just not sure where yet. U of T, Queens, a couple of places in the U.S. with good med programs.”

  His eyebrows popped up. “You want ta be a doctor?”

  “I think so. What about you? D’you plan on heading back to Scotland when school’s done?”

  “No wey I’d go back to Edinburgh. Dad’s family’s thar and I’ve no interest in seein’ them ever again. I’m not sure wha’ I plan to do.” His mouth hung slightly open, his tongue running over his teeth. “I like me dad being gone… Elliot Lake’s not so bad.” He looked right at me, his eyes saying more than his words. Because of you.

  I knew better than to say my thoughts out loud. Come with me, I wanted to say.

  My dad strode through the door, his head down as he flipped through a chart in his hands. His face erased all its seriousness when he saw me. “Zoezey!”

  Funny how that nickname sounded so different coming from his lips than Kieran’s. Speaking of – “Dad, this is Kieran.”

  Kieran stood and held his hand out, which my father shook. Score one on politeness. “We met briefly at the mine the night of the storm. It’s nice ta meet you, Dr. Taylor.”

  I wanted to do a tiny glee clap dance. Kieran sounded like the kind of guy my dad would love. The smile on Dad’s face proved my thoughts.

  “Great of you to come in with Zoe. I’ll make this quick.” Dad handed the file to his secretary and beckoned us to follow him into one of the patient rooms. “Hope you’re not afraid of needles.”

  The room had a small desk, a sink, and the metal bed with the rollaway-tissue on top. Kieran sat on the
rolling stool so I hopped onto the patient bench.

  Dad went to his desk, leaned down, and wrote our names down on some labels. “I’ll be right back,” he said and disappeared out of the room.

  Kieran cleared his throat. “Is he always, uh, this easy going?”

  I leaned back against the wall, the crinkle of the paper below me firecrackers to my ears. “I think he’s just excited he’s got fresh blood.”

  Kieran raised his eyebrows.

  “My dad’s got this thing about testing markers in blood. His research stuff is about RBCs, WBCs, platelets, and yadda, yadda, yadda.” I laughed at the expression on Kieran’s face. “Don’t be nervous now. He just wants to check our blood for uranium.”

  “That’s it? He’s got no clue about your…” He tugged his earlobe.

  “Nothing.” I glanced at the door. “He’s just gonna compare our results. Hopefully yours and mine aren’t too different and it’ll get us off the hook.”

  “I’m not sure –” Kieran said and stopped.

  Dad strolled back in, two needles and a tray of vials. “This’ll be quick.” He pointed to my arm and I began rolling up my sleeve.

  “How much do ya plan on taking?” Kieran’s round eyes followed the tray. “I think I’ve only got about ten pints.”

  The prick of the needle entering my skin grated against my ears. The vacuuming suction as my heart sucked blood through my veins was impossible to ignore.

  Dad laughed as he filled a third vial from my arm. “I want to check uranium levels and blood count. Zoe had her WBC count up and I want to make sure it’s nothing.”

  “She, uh, looked tired before, maybe it was a bug.” Kieran winked at me when my dad turned to finish up. “I think she looks great.”

  Dad then winked at me, giving my arm a light squeeze. “Maybe it was a bug.” He faced Kieran. “Your turn.”

  Kieran rolled his sleeve and made a fist. The bruises on his forearm had faded, but four light scratch lines trailed down. He was oblivious to the needle breaking his skin. A little part of me had been curious if the needle would’ve bent instead of going in, he seemed so tough. The power of his blood pushing into the vial sounded like a waterfall to my ears.

  “Quick case history,” Dad said, switching to an empty vial. “Do you have any family history of disease or disorders? Anything I might need to be aware of.”

  Kieran shot a nervous look to me, his head giving the slightest of shakes. “I don’t think so.”

  Dad switched and filled the final vial, putting a cotton ball with a piece of tape on top of Kieran’s pin prick. He stepped back shaking the vials. “If you think of anything, say for example your grand-dad had cancer, just tell Zoe and she can let me know. Or pop by here on your own if you want.” He stuck the labels on Kieran’s vials. “Do you have a family doctor?”

  “Not yet.” Kieran glanced at me.

  He’s panicking that he might have to say his dad’s in Scotland and he’s on his own. I mouthed, “It’s okay.” My dad wouldn’t say anything.

  “Just come see me,” Dad said, oblivious to Kieran’s worry. “I’ll help you out.” He slipped behind the desk and began jotting down dates on the vials. “It’s the least I can offer. I really appreciate you coming in.”

  “No problem, Dr. Taylor.” He stood, slipping his coat back on.

  “I’m sure I’ll see you around, Kieran.” Dad gave me a hug and ushered me out the door. “Give your mom a shout to let her know you were here. It’ll --”

  “I will, Dad.” I tapped my back pocket where my phone was. “See you later.”

  We headed out of the hospital and back into the Bug.

  “Crap! I left my coat in the waiting room.” Kieran turned back and started jog back to the building. “Meet me by the door?”

  I started the Bug and drove to the entrance. He came walking out, coat slung over his arm and a smile on his face. He jumped into the passenger side. “Good to go. By the way, your dad has one weird nurse.” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Can we head back ’n start cookin’? I’m starving!”

  “Sounds good to me. I’ll make the sauce and you can roll the meatballs.” Pulling out of the parking lot, I waved my pass in front of the electronic parking camera and pulled onto the main road when the exit bar shifted upwards.

  Chapter 10

  Kieran sat quietly watching the scenery from the passenger window as I drove back. I racked my brain, trying to think of some witty conversation or interesting topic to start with him. I still hadn’t come up with anything when we pulled into his driveway.

  “I’m excited for dinner.” Kieran unlocked the front door and flipped on some lights.

  I followed him in and giggled. “I hope you aren’t expecting anything fancy. It’s just noodles.”

  “But it’s homemade, not from a can!”

  “Yuck!” I leaned against the kitchen counter as Kieran opened the fridge and grabbed the hamburger and two cans of Coke.

  “Do you want a Coke?”

  I never drank pop but didn’t want to admit it. “Sure.”

  He pulled two glasses out of the cupboard and handed me one, along with a can. “What do you want me to do?”

  I flinched as I pulled the tab on the can and it squealed in my ears as it popped open. I poured some pop into my glass, then set it down to let the fizz settle. “Did you get Brent’s email today?”

  He drummed his fingers against his Coke can. “What did he want?”

  “To cancel tomorrow’s practice.”

  “Really? Is he going out?”

  “Maybe.” It seemed like Kieran was fishing for information. Or knew something and was trying to avoid having to talk about it. I figured it was the latter. “Do you think something’s up? Between him and Seth?”

  Kieran straightened. “Because of the other day? When Seth opened his mouth and stuck his foot into it?”

  I giggled. “Good analogy.”

  “I think they’re fine. Guys don’t get into things like girls do.”

  “Things? You mean like feelings?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Brent’s dad probably needs the gym or something.”

  He nodded absently, probably already losing interest in the conversation.

  Brent had only written they couldn’t train and then suggested they get together Saturday or Monday. Let it go. Even Kieran thinks Seth and Brent are fine. I turned my focus to making dinner. “Do you like vegetables?”

  He pretended to look nervous, giving a scared face before exaggerating as he chewed his lower lip. “It depends what you’ve got inside the brown bag.”

  I stood in front of the bag to stop him from peeking. “I’ve got horrid tasting things inside of here. Did I forget to tell you my mother’s a witch?”

  “Oh no! Does she carry a wand?”

  “Nope, just does evil spells with dried out dead animals and icky stuff like that.” I giggled, unable to keep a serious face.

  “Shoot!” He opened a cupboard beside the stove and began banging stuff around in it.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t have a cauldron.” He spun around, hiding something behind his back. “Will a frying pan do?” He held a worn non-stick pan in his right hand.

  I burst out laughing. “It’ll be perfect.”

  “I’m not a fan of aubergine.”

  “Say what?”

  He began washing the frying pan and pulled out a pot to fill with water for the noodles. “You asked me about vegetables. I don’t really like aubergines.”

  I pulled onions, mushrooms, and peppers out of bag. “I have no clue what that is.”

  “That’s good. Then you won’t have any.” He stepped close beside me and peered into the bag. “I only see Bolognese, noodles, and bread. We’re safe.”

  He smelled really good. Musky and some really good cologne or something. My breath caught at his nearness. I pretended to look inside the bag, but stared at his mouth with my peripheral
vision. Would he kiss me later? I swallowed. My body had strange feelings when I was near him. Did he have that, too? I blinked and slowly let out the breath I’d been holding. “Aubergine and Bolognese? Are you sure you speak English?”

  He smiled. “Bolognese is meat sauce.” He snapped his fingers. “Eggplant! That’s it. You guys call aubergine eggplant.”

  I made a face. “Yuck.”

  He touched the tip of my nose lightly with his finger. “That’s my girl.”

  We stared at each other, neither of us saying anything, but the silence didn’t feel awkward. A bubbling sound and metal slightly shaking caught my super sensitive ears. “The water’s boiling,” I whispered.

  “Guess we should start cooking.”

  I blinked and glanced around me. “Right. Do you want to cut the onions or roll the meatballs?”

  He shrugged. “I’ll do the meatballs. Sounds like the manly thing to do.”

  “Sounds good.” I pulled a little spice mix out of the bag. “Add this to the hamburger before you start rolling. My mom made this mix up. It’s awesome.”

  Kieran raised a single eyebrow. “Your mom?”

  “Stop it. She’s not a witch.” I swatted his hand playfully. “Get rolling, and maybe turn the water on the stove down before it’s all boiled away.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He saluted and went to work.

  I cut the onions and other vegetables then added them to the meatballs when they were cooked. Kieran added more water to the pan, and when it boiled again, he added the noodles. He hopped up and sat on the counter while I added sauce and cut the bread. He pulled a ball out of a drawer and began tossing and catching it as he waited.

  He slid off the counter when I checked the noodles. “They’re ready.” I poured them into the strainer and he set two plates on the counter.

  “I’ll set the table.” Kieran grabbed two new glasses and then put them back in the cupboard. He went to the china cabinet and pulled out two wine glasses.

  My hand paused midair with a spoonful of sauce.