Jeremy

I really should walk to work, Jeremy thought as he pulled out of the hospital parking lot. He only lived four blocks away, but on days like this, after coming off an eighteen-hour shift, the difference between getting home in five minutes or fifteen was crucial. His shift had started at 6 A.M. yesterday, and today at noon he felt hungover from exhaustion. He never wanted to see those bleach white walls and flourescent lights again. It hadn't been an easy day and a half, either. In a city this big someone was always breaking their skull in a car accident or getting shot for being near a gang. Eighteen hours of constant emergencies become a time warp - if you stop to take a break you know someone is laying in pain and waiting while you slowly munch your donut.

And his last patient - the dislocated shoulder - had he remembered to write her prescription after he had gotten her test results? He reached down for his PDA, but it wasn't in his white coat jacket pocket. She had mentioned prior problems with one painkiller - had he remembered that when he wrote the prescription? He patted the passenger seat feeling for his PDA, he could just call the nurse and have her double check before the patient was discharged. Man! Where was it? He glanced down at the passenger side floor just as he turned the corner - he looked back up and yelled as he slammed on the brakes. A metallic thud. His airbag punched him in the face with a warm boom like a gunshot. All he could think over and over was "Please God, let it be a dog!"

He sat in shock for a few moments. He was gasping for air and powdery gray smoke was filling his lungs. He coughed. He opened the door and fell out of the car. He sat on the wet asphalt. His legs were weak noodles, not properly responding to his brain's commands. Curiosity overwhelmed him - he didn't want to know, but he HAD to know. "A dog, God, please just a dog!" he thought, and the grit ground into his palms as he leaned forward on his knees - he saw - a woman's legs, very still and one at an odd angle. She was on her back. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins and he jumped to his feet, grasping the open car door as a lifeline. Stepping back, started to dry-heave. He sat down behind the wheel and realized that his car was still running. His mind suddenly numb, he put the car into gear without thinking and started to roll forward.

No! he thought, Stop! She might be alive! What if someone saw you? A myriad of thoughts flushed through and began to zig-zag through his brain, but each came so fast he didn't pause long enough on any one and meanwhile his foot just kept pressing down on the gas pedal and before he could stop to think what he had done he was turning into the parking garage behind his apartment and pulling into a space in a dark corner. Maybe it didn't happen? It couldn't happen to him. This sort of thing happened to drinkers and drug addicts. And criminals. And irresponsible people. He looked down at his hands - there were bits of gravel embedded into his palms.

Exhaustion hit him then, and he walked straight into his apartment and fell asleep on the bed with his clothes and shoes on.