Stolen Innocence

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Stolen Innocence Page 4

by Beverly L Anderson


  “Aren’t you the head nurse up there?” she asked as he patted her shoulder after making sure all the lines were still in place.

  “Everyone was a bit busy today, so I thought I’d come down and see to this myself,” he commented, not wanting to tell her it hadn’t been his idea to do this today. It was true he hadn’t been otherwise occupied, at least. “I don’t mind because I get to talk to lovely people like you.” As he spoke, he squeezed her shoulder.

  “Oh, honey, if you don’t mind me asking, how in the world did you get such a scar on your face? It looks like an old one too!” She seemed to focus on the scar running down his face.

  Artemis put his hand against the scar without thinking, feeling the ridge running from the corner of his eye down to his chin. He smiled, though, because he didn’t mind so much when people like this asked him about it.

  “Oh, there was a sort of incident when I was a kid...” He trailed off. How was he going to put the fact some men came into his house and tried to murder his family because of who they were. He swallowed and chewed his lip for a second. “A home invasion,” he settled on. “I got cut by this one guy who didn’t know how to handle his knife. I was lucky, though. My best friend, he lived nearby, and his dad’s a pediatric surgeon. So, he stitched me right up!”

  “Goodness, that’s something...” the older woman remarked with a shake of her head. “I bet something like that was scary for you as a child.”

  “Ah, I got to stay at my best friend’s house for a while. Brat kept sneaking into my room the whole time to stay with me, even when he was told to stay out. He’s a bit funny like that. He gets really attached to people he likes. There aren’t too many on that list, though. And he doesn’t listen well when he wants to do something.” He smirked as he crossed his arms over his chest.

  She smiled. “Ah, so sweet, honey. Do you get to see him often these days? Sounds like you care about him a lot.”

  Artemis nodded with a grin again. “Oh, yeah, he’s a doctor up on neuro, but he’s a specialist in micro-laser surgery, mostly oncology. He does a lot of tumor and mass removals. He did design the tools which Dr. Santos uses, though.” He was quiet for a second. “I wish I saw him more, but he doesn’t go out a lot, he’s autistic, and he doesn’t do people too well.”

  “Well, you know, going out doesn’t have to be the only way you spend time with someone you love.” She winked at him slyly.

  Artemis stared. “What?”

  “Don’t look at me like that, I see those pink cheeks when you talk about him,” she observed. “In my day, if I learned anything, it was to tell the ones you love how much love them. When I was your age, I fell in love with a beautiful woman. You know, fifties and all, I never told her, and she married a man who abused her terribly.” She paused, and Artemis could tell her eyes were dampening. “I went to her funeral two years after she moved away. In her things, there was a letter for me, telling me how much love she’d held in her heart and couldn’t speak. I was happy, my husband and my kids, but I always wonder, what woulda happened if I’d told her how much I loved her.” She smiled again. “Just don’t waste time, that’s what I’ll say. Call it old advice from an interfering old woman.”

  Artemis saw the genuine emotion in her eyes, and for a second he almost felt like telling her more, but he just smiled. “I’ll think about it.” He patted her arm before he left the room.

  “You take care, honey!” she called as she watched him leave.

  Artemis enjoyed the ones like her so much. Despite her age, there was still a mischievous sparkle to her gray eyes. He shut the door and took a deep breath before he turned to head back out to confirm the transition with the nurses’ station on this floor.

  As he headed out and over to the nurses’ station in the center of the floor, he was thoughtful. It seemed to be rather quiet today, which for this floor was a very good thing. He’d thought about working this floor, and it had been one of the choices he’d been given, but he wanted to be on neurology. He hadn’t spent the extra time and effort specializing in nursing related to neurology and neurosurgery to be sent to another floor, no matter how Thomas tried to convince him he was a good fit for another one.

  What most people he worked with didn’t know was the reason he got into nursing to start with had nothing to do with helping others. It had to do with his constant worry and need to take care of his best friend, Kieran. Sometimes, he found it odd he had based one of the biggest choices of his life on anyone except his family. Other times, he found it only natural he would have done so. He was an excellent nurse, though. He’d been offered top spots at several other hospitals in the St. Louis area, but turned down every one of them. He was home here with Kieran, and here he would stay.

  It wasn’t like Artemis didn’t like Thomas, it was just Thomas seemed intent on keeping him away from Kieran. Artemis had no intention of letting Thomas keep him away from Kieran happening. Artemis had his suspicions as to why Thomas seemed to play hospital politics against him, but it wasn’t something he could ever prove.

  Artemis got to the nurses’ station and quickly made sure everything was in order for the patient transfer. He sighed as he started to head back to the elevator and hoped nothing had gone wrong upstairs in the hour he’d been gone. He hadn’t gotten any pages over the intercom and he hadn’t heard the pager go off in his pocket, so it was a good thing. He took the elevator up and headed to his own nurses’ station once he got out on the seventh. He called for the orderlies doing the transfer of Ms. Dankin and sent for Deana to go with them. He found Dr. Santos and let him know she was coming up. By the time he was finished with everything, he made his way back to the nurses’ station to find Kieran was standing there looking at a chart.

  It was easy to tell by Kieran’s posture that he was anxious. He approached him from the side so Kieran could tell someone was coming up. He put both hands on Kieran’s shoulders. Kieran turned and looked at him, and Artemis knew he was bothered by something.

  “Kie, what’s up?” he asked with a concerned frown.

  Kieran tilted his head to the side and stared into space for a minute, grinding his teeth. At the motion, Artemis knew Kieran needed to stim. He also knew Kieran was trying not to stim, and it frustrated Artemis to no end. It wasn’t like drumming his fingers hurt anyone.

  Artemis looked around, brushing a hand through his hair. He grabbed Kieran by the hand to usher him into an empty patient room and pushed him to sit down on the end of the bed. The room was dark since the curtains were pulled closed and the lights were all off. Artemis knew if Kieran was upset, the less stimulation from the outside, the better.

  Putting both hands on his hips, Artemis looked Kieran over. He could easily see he was upset and Kieran was probably not sure how to explain it. Ever since childhood it had been this way with him. He would give him time and let him speak when he was ready. Artemis had never pushed Kieran to talk if he couldn’t or didn’t want to.

  “Love, you look a bit flustered,” Artemis sighed, smiling gently at him.

  Kieran nodded with a somewhat embarrassed look on his face. Artemis hated the fact Kieran always seemed to be so embarrassed by becoming upset like this. He especially didn’t like the idea Kieran felt embarrassed around him. Lately, he hadn’t seen Kieran outside the hospital. It shouldn’t have been something that bothered him, but he shook the thought away. They were both busy. He didn’t dwell on the fact a lot of Kieran’s time was taken up by the things Mary and Thomas requested.

  An eternity ago, a young Artemis had met this other little boy living in the area. Artemis had been seven, and Kieran had been six. It was before Kieran had gone to the other school. They would often play in the small park nearby while Kieran’s mom watched from a bench and Sherlock, Artemis’s young caretaker and “uncle”, watched from the other side of the park.

  Artemis remembered his Uncle Sherlock whispering to him about how the little dark-haired boy needed someone to play with, and how the other kids made fun of
him whenever they came to the park. Artemis wasn’t going to stand for something like bullying. He’d marched right over where the little dark-haired boy sat in a sandbox filtering sand through his fingers again and again and told him they were going to be friends and play together from now on. Kieran’s mother had smiled and told him to go on. From then on, Artemis played with the little boy everyone else had said was weird. Other kids would tease Kieran now and then, calling him names, and Artemis would yell at them to leave him alone.

  Then the incident happened, and Artemis couldn’t remember all the details. He just remembered waking up and seeing Kieran leaning over him, crying about him being hurt. Kieran had refused to listen when the adults tried to make him leave. Artemis vividly remembered Sherlock arguing with Kieran’s father about having been brought to Kieran’s house. Artemis had never explained to Kieran what everything had meant, and he wouldn’t. Kieran didn’t need to be pulled into the messed-up situation that had left him scarred. He knew there was some connection between their family and Kieran’s, but every time he’d asked about it, Sherlock would say it wasn’t something he should worry about.

  After the horrible incident, Artemis had struggled with containing his anger and being around Kieran helped him a lot. No matter how upset or angry he got, Kieran could calm him in an instant. The only other person who helped Artemis calm down was his boyfriend, but even then, he didn’t have the ability to drain his anger like Kieran’s presence did.

  It wasn’t long after the incident when Artemis lost his temper completely for the first time in front of Kieran. Kieran had been playing hide and seek in the park with him and had gone well away from his mother’s sight. A few boys cornered Kieran, pushing him back and forth between them. Kieran was scared, but it wasn’t the first time it had happened. Artemis was almost healed completely from the wound on his face; the flesh was still pink and fresh in the late healing stages. Artemis, for some reason, came around the corner and became furious. He ended up fighting with the bullies. Kieran had to pull him off them, pleading with him not to hurt them anymore.

  Artemis knew quite well how in Kieran’s life, he had very few people who had come to his aid for acting like himself. Artemis also knew how much Kieran had to act around Thomas and Mary. Kieran never had to be someone else around him, and Artemis made sure he didn’t.

  “Mary,” Kieran muttered. “Ssibal, she always thinks I do not hear what she says when I zone out. They all think I do not hear, all but you. You know, even when I look like I am not paying attention, I am still aware of my surroundings,” he grumbled, crossing his arms and rolling his head over his shoulders. “They are going to be looking for me in a minute.” He stopped and sighed deeply. “I still have to finish my rounds and talk to my father about a little girl who came in last night.”

  “You can’t help your actions when she antagonizes you.” A deep scowl settled in across Artemis’s brows.

  “At least I left the room before I started ticking,” Kieran muttered. He rubbed a hand over his freckled nose and cheekbones. “It would be bad, going off and yelling ‘fuck’ in the middle of a room with a patient. Even if it is not in English.” Kieran chewed his lip for a second before continuing. “Aigoo, this is so annoying, why does she have to think I do not know what she says?”

  Artemis sat down beside him, putting an arm around him with a deep sigh. “Kie, you have to figure out how to make things work. You should tell her or something. She needs to know she should stop pushing your buttons like this. It’s fucked up. Friend or no. You’re not doing so well. You told me before how Dr. McKellar said if you aren’t careful...” he started.

  Kieran nodded. He leaned his head over and rested it against Artemis’s shoulder. “A breakdown right now would mean medications. Medications mean no more surgery. No more surgery means I would go out of my mind. I must have access to surgery. Thomas says there is no way he will let me do surgery on something as simple as anxiety medications. I do not understand the harm. They do not interfere with surgery. Thomas should know, though. He has spent the last forty years working with autistic people like me. He has to know best.”

  There was a second of silence before Artemis spoke up. “I don’t know, Kieran, you need to do something because yer sufferin’ right now.”

  “I know, I know, Artemis, believe me.” Artemis reached up and ran a hand over Kieran’s head where it lay against his shoulder. “I am trying. I do not want Thomas to see me like this, so I came to you. He would be mad and tell me I should not be bothered by her saying the truth.”

  There was a tickling at the back of Artemis’s mind. Artemis knew something was off about this situation, and he always had. There was something wrong with the whole idea of Kieran being unable to make his own choices about what medications he should take, for one thing. Artemis knew Kieran trusted Thomas, but Kieran was a doctor too, and he knew even more about the brain than Thomas did. Artemis knew Kieran was as attached to him as he was to any family member, but still. Artemis couldn’t understand the reasons behind some of the things Kieran told him Thomas said. He knew, though, saying something would upset Kieran, and he didn’t want to frustrate him even more than he already was. He’d do anything to avoid upsetting him. Instead, he kept those thoughts to himself. Artemis just supported his friend in whatever he decided to do. Kieran was smart enough to figure out if Thomas was doing something wrong...

  Artemis adjusted his glasses a bit and realized Kieran had started to relax a bit. He rubbed his back for a second and then hugged him. When Kieran responded with a firm nod of his head and sat back up, Artemis sat up straight himself.

  Kieran stood slowly and Artemis watched him carefully. “Okay, go finish rounds, do your consult, and in ainm Dé, go home, rest, you have a big surgery Monday!” Artemis gently pushed him out of the empty room.

  Kieran nodded and headed down the hall, lost in thought already. Artemis leaned against the doorframe and watched Kieran navigate down the hall while avoiding making eye contact with the passing nurses. Artemis didn’t know what to do, though. He wanted to help Kieran get through this problem with the others in his life, but he wasn’t sure how to do it. He reached up, thoughtfully fiddling with his necklace. Kieran was obviously stressed out and in need of some sort of relief. He knew ways that worked for him to relieve stress, but it wasn’t the right solution for everyone else. There were times when he needed to engage in the things that took him outside himself and to a place where the world ceased to exist. It was also a place of unconditional love.

  Mrs. Dankin’s words came back. Was he wasting precious time?

  Chapter Two

  The Teahouse and the Artist

  Kieran began the day by waking up earlier than normal well before his alarm went off. He usually woke up before sunrise, but of course, the surgery was today at six am. Well, he had to be there at six am. The actual surgery would begin at seven and last for approximately fourteen hours. He always drove in with his father in the mornings because he did not drive. His father never complained about times like this when he had to take him in extra early. Kieran had mentioned trying to learn to drive to Thomas, but Thomas said he did not think it was a good idea to even try. Thomas told him there was no real reason for him to drive and it was so much stress. Kieran was little put off by the idea he could not handle it, but as usual, he did not say anything. Thomas knew best.

  As they drove, Kieran only halfway listened as his father prattled on about this or that in the pediatrics unit. His focus rested only on the surgery ahead. In his mind, the steps played on an endless loop. He could see the tools, smell the room, feel the metal under his fingers, and hear the buzz of the saw. His father understood his need for this routine. Though he spoke, his father didn’t expect answers out of Kieran as they headed to the hospital. He knew his father talked in hopes of relaxing him before the surgery. It was comfortable, familiar, and it was regular.

  “Seems the weather’s good today, son,” Father said as he turned off the c
ar. “Still warmer than it should be; sort of strange for this time of year.”

  Muttering some reply, Kieran pulled the light jacket around him. It may turn warm later, but right now it was cold. He nodded to his father and they went into the big double doors together before he split off and went to the elevator. He went immediately to his neurosurgery theater. There were other neurosurgeons, but he was by far the most sought after, so it had become his theater in a sense. He gave a curt nod to everyone as he entered. He had dressed in the only clean scrubs he’d had this morning, a set of light lavender ones. He had been happy one of his purple sets were clean since it was his favorite color. He always heard the muttered responses to his clothing choices, but he did not care. He liked wearing the purple ones. On more than one occasion, Mary had said if he wore purple, it made him look weak. He had no idea why. Color had nothing to do with weakness or strength.

  After he scrubbed up, Kieran went into the prepared surgery room. He breathed in the sterile air and closed his eyes. No one else thought it smelled any different. If he said anything about the surgery room smell, they would look at him with an odd stare. He could not help his nose picked up things other people did not. It had a smell.

  He opened his eyes and glanced around. Once everyone was ready, he couldn’t tell the difference between those present. He would sometimes recognize Mary, but everyone was interchangeable. They all wore the same white coverings over their scrubs, the same white caps, and the same white masks.

  The anesthesiologist sat at the head of the chair Janet would sit in for the surgery. Unlike some other surgeries, her body would be upright. The monitors were on and set up with another nurse sorting the cords. Most people did not realize how much preparation went into mundane things in surgery. Janet was already out in the pre-op area waiting to begin.

 

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