"Jiest, they're here!" I can hear Lyca bellowing excitedly inside. She saw me and Issa making faces through the peep hole.
The door was unlocked.
"Ember!" Jiesta broke into a run to give me a hug.
"Yeah. I'm here. You need to evacuate my place now." I humored.
"You brought Heidi Klum as part of your demolition team?" Lyca grinned, pointing a finger at Issa.
"Hey, wreckage in style. Not a bad idea." Issa said.
Jiesta let me go, and I was able to look at her properly.
"Uh, Jiest, what happened to you?"
Disheveled hair? That is so not her.
"She was on a mission last night." Lyca said seriously.
"There she goes. How many times do I have to tell you guys, I'm not some Lara Croft or Mrs. Smith." Jiesta replied in exasperation.
"So what are you, James bond?" I asked.
"No!" she rolled her eyes. "I work as a systems analyst. That's all."
"In the National Security Agency. C'mon, we're not gonna torture from you CIA classified info." Lyca pried on.
"Really? Well, thank you. Coz it would've been useless. My title is just a fancy way of saying I'm the one who makes sure that THE REAL secret agents are able to do their job well." Jiesta explained.
"oooh..." Issa and Lyca nodded their heads knowingly.
"That explains a lot, Jiest." I said sarcastically.
Jiesta gave up. "Yeah. Whatever guys. Who wants Apple Pork Chop casserole?"
That sent me and Issa running towards the kitchen.
All four of us sat down and started on the dish. There was also a whole rhubard custard pie on the table and one Italian Chianti red wine, my favorite.
"So Lycs, I heard you're not going back to Massachusetts. What you doing here in Cali?" Issa asked.
"Still teaching. Why, you think I'll go showbiz too?" was the answer.
"Hey, you know what, she just made it big! It was in the news, yesterday!" Jiesta exclaimed.
"Yeah. You remember the name of the award?" Lyca picked on Jiesta.
"OF COURSE! You won the 2011 Michigan Catalyst Society Giuseppe..." she stared into space. "I... I think I need to go to my room first. I left the TV on."
"No need for the excuse Jiest. Its the Michigan Catalyst Society Giuseppe Parravano Memorial Award for Excellence in Catalysis Research." Lyca supplied.
"Oh, that one..." Issa muttered. I nodded.
"You've heard of it?" Jiesta asked in disbelief.
"Sure, we did." I answered.
"I can't be the only dimwit in the room!" Jiesta protested.
"Bluffing. Anyways, Lycs, what on earth is that? some Nobel prize or Pulitzer? Grammys? Enlighten us laymen, please." I appealed.
"Something like that for us who study catalytic science. My mentor in MIT advised me to accept a post as professor here in Stanford. They've got facilities and a college for photon science, so I decided to stay." Lyca obliged.
"I was actually puzzled. You told me you were just visiting your cousin." I said.
"That was the original plan. But Stanford got to me. I liked the place." Lyca shrugged.
"so, how about you guys, what's the rush in crashing here in Cali?" Jiesta asked.
Issa related her purpose first. "New ad campaign for Jag. But I've got a screening scheduled for Paris Fashion Week 3 days from now right after the campaign."
"Gosh, Iz. Paris?" Jiesta ogled at Issa, her eyes as round as coins.
"Cross your fingers for me, Jiest." Issa winked.
"Fashion week for which designer?" Lyca inquired.
Issa held her breath, then spluttered faintly."Valentino!"
"What???" All three of us were now gawking at her.
"Flabbergasted when I received the call the other day. I was sick with excitement." Issa ranted.
"WeLl, I'd say YOU'RE sick if you weren't! Bon voyage, mademoiselle!" Jiesta exclaimed.
"Jiest, I still have a screening to go through and Valentino Garavani doesn't play dice on his runway." Issa conveyed worry.
"Quit talking, right now. You've done haute couture last season right?"
"With no less than Vera Wang." I added.
"Even me can understand what that means, Iz. We watched your show on TV." Lyca quipped.
"Those shoes were impossible. Can't imagine even Naomi Campbell survive wearing it. How many inches?" Jiest interrogated.
"7.5! Thought I was gonna be crippled soon as I returned backstage." Issa confessed. We snickered. "Ms. Wang came over and handed me a glass of wine. She said-Congratulations!Now let's get your color back on you. Coz I was white as sheet!"
"Talk about killer heels..." Lyca commented.
"How about you?" Jiesta directed the topic on me.
"Oh, don't mind her. She's just here to write the script for Wuthering Heights." Issa said in mocking monotone.
"Shut up!" Jiesta exclaimed.
"Congratulations!" Lyca grinned at me. "So the Hollywood in you is back on its feet again?"
"Can't wait for the kickoff." I admitted.
"I'm so happy for you... Oh, wow. Finally living the dream." Jiesta cooed. She poured the Chianti for all three of us. " For chasing waterfalls and shooting at the stars?"
We raised our glass and went for the toast..
"So, does Chloe know you're back yet?" Lyca asked.
I swallowed the wine with utmost difficulty. Lyca can get really straightforward sometimes and I was caught off guard.
"I ran into her the other day. She's having a cocktail party at her place tomorrow. We're invited. New movie for this year." Lyca continue.
"I'm gonna call her later. She's still in Pasadena?"
"Not anymore. She bought a new place in Bev Hills 3 days ago. CA 90210, if I got it right. Have you lost communication?"
"Not really. I got busy these past few days." I felt my phone vibrate inside my pocket. "This is Ms. Prince."
"Hi. This is Ms. Anna Marie Cousteau, Ms. Prince." Oh. The producer. " Just wanna check if you've reached California."
"I've arrived safely, thank you. Just made it to my apartment."
"Great. Welcome back. And I would like to inform you that we will be having our storyline conference in 2 days time. Mr. Walling is inviting you and the rest of the production staff to a private dinner tomorrow night at 7 PM. We'll have reservations at Roosevelt Hotel."
"I'll be right there, Ma'am.."
"Thank you. I have your address, I'll send in the limo by 6:30, shall I?"
""I'll be ready by then."
"Ok. See you soon, Ms. Prince." she ended briefly.
Doorbell.
I ripped my fingers from the laptop unwillingly. Logrolling myself from my bed, I felt my body slam against the carpet. "AW!" My head hit a hardbound encyclopedia.
What a stupid thing to do. I straightened up and headed for the door.
"Scene 6-10. KA wants 'teeny-tiny' revisions." It was Ms. Anne. KA are the initials of our lunatic, I mean eccentric director, Mr. Kristian Aaron Cavegn.
"Great. Tell me something I dunno, you think he's planning to finish filming this year?"
"Good question. And I have no dang idea what's the answer." Anna settled on the ottoman. "Hey, you got coffee in this...cave? Is Edward Cullen right inside your bathroom?'
"Shh..Count Dracula hates that name. The guy eclipsed his popularity." I cautioned her. She had a point though. All the curtains were shut. No sunshine could penetrate the house. Only the fireplace was alight. I liked it that way, I could write well when I simulate the nighttime darkness. Makes me feel like I really am alone with my thoughts.
Anne picked up her phone. "I'm at Ember's place. Yes. Be there in a jiffy. Yeah. Yeah. I'll teleport if I have to, ok?" She got off the phone with a tsk on her lips.
"KA, right?"
"Yeah. Got a plane to catch."
"Going somewhere?"
"North Yorkshire. Gonna personally check on the set. KA wants you to come over, too. He's got your plane tickets, accommodations all arranged. We're gonna visit four locations. Should be fun for you." Anne said.
"For me. Should be stress for you, I guess."
"Or maybe we'll both suffer. KA might want you to come coz he'll knock on your door at 2 in the morning to revise." Anne said frankly.
"I know his reputation. A Scripwriter's Jason. Does he really drink bloody mary at 3 in the morning in front of a mirror?" I asked.
"Afraid the urban legend is true. Caught him in the act once when we were filming Apexis 5 years ago. I ran away from his room like a raving lunatic. He called me up and told me to get my ass back in his room coz we had to go over tomorrow's game plan." Anne told the tale.
"What happened?" I was able to ask between my snickers.
"I came back, trembling from head to toe. He was sitting on a high backrest chair, with his legs crossed, and then he said to me - Bloody Mary? You could use some red on your face." Anne continued.
I laughed.
"So you wanna come to North Yorkshire? Maybe you'll have spare time and you can break into KA's suit and watch him drink bloody mary or perform some virgin sacrifice in the night." She allured me.
"Might be worth it. I'll go pack."
*CRASH!
Despite the blaring Deftones music on my MP3, my ears picked up the loud the loud thud. I went out of the room and saw the menace. A pair of limbs were stuck out everywhere as a humongous mountain of scraps of clothing attempts to drown the body.
"For the love of Marilyn Monroe!" Issa seethed as she struggled to get through the mess.
I grabbed her hand to try to help, but Issa was thrown off balance thanks to her 4 inch stilettos when she half stood sending us both tumbling on the floor.
My face hit the
I heard Issa groan in agony.
"I think I broke my back!" she wailed.
"Mine's a facial deformity." I complained.
Jiesta was running from the kitchen and she went head on collision with Lyca who was then carefully balancing a large jug of orange juice.
*CRASH!
Few seconds later, the two of them looked like 2 newly baptized babies with their heads splashed with the slimy liquid.
"Ugh..GROSS!!" Jiesta coughed.
"No its not! Here.." Lyca smeared her fingers with the juice on her face and brandished it on Jiesta's lips.
"Ewww. Double gross." she pushed it away.
"No, really..its real orange, you know." Lyca was now teasing her as she insistently handed her finger.
"Hey!" Jiesta was protesting.
Issa and I chuckled.
"I can't believe you two survived two years living in the same room together." I commented.
"Easy. I barely even stay here longer than a week." Jiesta answered.
"And I spend all daylight time in the campus..." Lyca added.
"We don't get to see each other much."
"Just like in 125. Hard to get us all together." Issa thought. "Got stuffs to do."
"Speaking of stuffs to do, I'll be off to England tonight after I'm done packing." I said.
"Going on location?"
"Yep." I affirmed.
"Me too.Flight to Paris tomorrow at 8." Issa announced.
"Me three. Bologna. After lunch."
"Me four." Lyca said dully. "I'll be at the most magical place on earth."
"Hmm..Find me lots of hidden Mickeys..." I requested.
"Not Disneyland. Our brand new science lab." Lyca bragged.
"Oh.I thought your field is more of theoretical.." I wondered.
"Gotta have reconciliations with the applied aspect." Lyca shrugged.
"So where are you heading?" Issa got up as he posed the question. We followed suit as we individually cleaned ourselves up.
"Boston. Might get a chance to drop by at MIT." Lyca answered. "How about you?" she threw the query at Jiesta.
"I'll be there next month."
"Hmmm. We might not run into each other by then. I have business to finish at NYU."
"We could get together. Kristel will be thrilled to see you, and Karen and the rest of the gang." I proposed.
"Heard she'll be opening a new business. She's the reason why I think depression isn't a disease; she's productive when she's brokenhearted." Lyca commented.
I chuckled at that.
"She was mortally wounded when the engagement broke off." Jiesta reproached.
"It wasn't just the engagement that was broken. Her bank account too, correct?" Lyca retorted.
"Josh did her a favor when he left." Issa said quietly.
We all exchanged a grim look.
"Well, shame on him. But if Karen'll let him fool her twice, I'll hang her atop empire state myself." Jiesta swore.
"Will do." Issa seconded.
"But for now, will you finish packing first so we can get to the airport? Cali rush hour, remember?" I reminder Issa.
"I seriously doubt she can finish packing today." Jiesta remarked. She had a point. Issa's wardrobe now scattered all over the floor was worth one botique.
"Duh. No worries, gals. I won't bring all these. I'll dump them in the spare closet and fetch them when I get back. Besides, it's be the start of autumn at Paris right now. You know what that means," she winked.
"Shopping Season." the three of us chorused, Jiesta shrieked with a moan of envy, Lyca rolling her eyes, and me grinning at Issa's happy face.
I arrived at London in a serene mood. Sleeping during plane travels had been a habit so deeply ingrained ever since I was a kid. By the time the plane touched down, I was rested.
Anne, who fetched me was the exact opposite.
"You look bloody dreadful. That bad?" I greeted sporting a fake British accent.
"As bad as your accent." She answered. "C'mon, get on the cab." she beckoned.
We chatted all the way to the Athenaum Hotel where the rest of the crew was checked in. Anne instructed the vallet to deliver my traveling bag to my room before she faced me again. She barely made a sound when her phoned beeped.
"I'll spare you 30 minutes so you can settle down. Then come to the conference hall soon as you can. Urgent staff meeting." She grimaced apologetically.
"Thanks. Tell KA I've sent him the revisions. I won't take too much time." Another text message got to her. "Run along, or KA will be after your blood." I tapped her arm.
"He just might." She muttered, and was then on her feet.
Yawning, I pulled the conference door. For a split second, I thought was in the wrong room. The silence was eerie.
When I looked around, all six of them were staring fixedly at me with varying expressions.
"Ms. Prince. Please take your seat." KA motioned me to go over the chair on his right.
"Thanks." I murmured.
"OK. Everyone. I'm sure you've heard of the urban legend that this movie is cursed. But cursed or not, I don't give a care. We work. We do our thing. I expect nothing less from all of you. And I swear on my mother's grave that if anyone in this room screws up, I'm gonna stick tampons to your 2 breathing orifices. Do I make myself clear?" KA's voice was musical but menacing. There was a lethality into it that makes you feel a lump on your throat.
There was a collective nod and clipped whispers of assent.
"We're having this meeting because I wanna be the one to tell you that the rumors, I'm afraid is true. Another company is trying to buy rights to this film. There has been negotiations from those on the upper echelons of our studio."
"Buy rights? You mean they wanna produce the film?" Lisa Amundsen, our costume designer asked.
"Yes, which doesn't concern me. But here's the catch - they want us to release next April." KA stated.
"April? After Oscars? No deal.What are they playing at?" Rhys Liszt, the Production coordinator said aghast.
"Their company is releasing a film of their own this year. Eliminating competition. They are hungry for the trophies." KA declared bluntly.
"That is sick! I'm sure the studio would never allow it." Lisa cried indignantly.
Everyone was talking all at the same time as exasperation reigns in the air. I sat there hanging my head. I had no idea how I should be feeling. I could tell they're all pissed, though. I needed someone to dumb down for me the technical parts so I can judge if the situation does me any good. It wasn't only me who looked lost. Anne was silent, thinking, calculating but she didn't have that idiotic look on her face like me. She was disturbed, no doubt of it.
"Enough." The room fell silent as KA's voice thundered. " Now that we know the stakes, I want you to forget everything I said. I need you all to WORK. Leave the big stuffs to the bosses. Give me you best, I won't take anything less. Get it?"
Nodding again, everyone was dead serious.
"Good!" KA shifted to a convincing cheerful mode. "We'll resume shooting tomorrow. Anne?"
"Our location manager and his staff just called. Set is ready when you are." Anne replied promptly.
"Fantastic. Mitch?" KA turned to Michelle Lyle, Art Director. She was said to be one of the most sought after Hollywood stylist.
"Lisa and I just completed the costumes, props, everything else.Just call the shots." Mitch said.
"Fabulousity. Rho?" KA's attention went to the cinematographer, Rho Chris Lindgren. She was one of Issa's favorite photographers.
"Bring it." Rho said.
"Sweet. Ember?"
"Just sent you the revisions." I quipped.
"Great. Tomorrow. 6 AM sharp. No excuses... We're going straight to our hotel and after lunch, were rolling."
The crowd broke into twos and threes. Anne was left
Friday, March 18, 2011
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Episode 2 - Part 1 Rekindled Embers
Cyrus' big red grandfather clock clicked when the hands stopped at 2 AM. I sighed. As always, the expected moonlight sonata played like a background music of some horror flick. The heavy downpour on the other side of the glass window was growing steadfastly. Some of the moisture was invading inside because two of the panes were opened. The silk curtains were flying like ghosts riding on the playful wind.
Refusing to acknowledge the creepiness of my surroundings, I darted back my gaze to the blinking cursor.
Type. Type.
My article for the next day needs a little more embellishments before I consider it ready for printing. I tapped the space bar and delete keys interchangeably. Hmmm....
C'mon, brain cells..don't snooze.
The moisture dense wind blew on my face. Crap, I can't defy the goosebumps flourishing on my flesh anymore. So I got on my feet. The window creeked when I closed it. Suddenly, I head a thud issueing from the corridor leading to the south wing. Moonlight saturated the alley faintly. Weird, I thought. There's a blizzard outside but the moon was casting luminosity at the same time.
I picked up my laptop and settled back on the couch. I forced my train of thoughts to stop by where I was before the creepy interruption.
Then I heard it... Footfalls, getting closer and closer. I gritt my teeth before slowly turning towards the direction of the sound.
I held my breath, clenched my fist. There it goes... My eyes could not betray me as I took in the sight of a dark figure emerging from the corridor, coming to my direction. I deduced that it was walking; a man..
His head was down, his body trudging on little steps. The sky outside thundered violently.
I clung like a maniac to my laptop. No point screaming coz no one will likely hear me. But if he dares to cross within 2 meter radius, I'll knock him over till he passes out. But, do ghosts get concussions? I don't freaking care! A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do...
But when the 'ghost' reached the threshold of the sitting room, and I had my A and B strategies all planned out, I was surprised when he fell on the 3-step ladder.
Clumsy ghost, I thought dully. Then, I heard it groan. Sense dawned on me so I turned on the light switch.
Crap. I recognized the grey clint eastwood shirt worn by the 'ghost' by the name of-
"Mel." I called him. Of course, he's snoring his signature snore; the type that can scare the hell out of you cause you'd think his airway is obstructed by something huge.
I seized him by his armpits and pulled him to the carpet. After which, I placed one of the throwpillows under his head.
Stupid of me to even think of ghosts. Like I dunno for years that Mel sleepwalks. Among the allnighters, I'm the queen bee, the undisputed no-sleep champion with eyebags for trophies. My work demands for lenghty reading not possible for mankind, so Kristel says. She's my business partner in Gray Matters, our very own preppy book cafe. Though employed full-time at the New York Times, I do my share on the supervisory work for Gray Matters. Me and Kristel love it to bits. We have a common passion for books ever since time immemorial. When we were able to accumulate enough funds, we ventured to put up a cafe for students where they are able to enjoy a wide selection of books, mags, newspapers, journals while munching gastronomic treats. As predicted, the collegiates loved the idea. Thanks to them, Grey Matters became the hubhub for studying slash snacking.
"Argumentum ad miserecordiam.." Mel uttered like he's reminding me of his presence. He stirred.
Whatever he says when he's concious, I reckon Mel has pent up thoughts that keep on running through his mind after court hearings. He's got regrets that he's never gonna mention.
I rolled my eyes and held my laptop with full determination to finish my article.
"Sorry." Mel muttered. It was barely a whisper but it was audible enough. A smile crept on my lips.
"You've got mail." June showed up in her pajamas hours later, envelopes at hand.
"Morning." I greeted before accepting my post.
June sat beside me on the couch. She threw a pillow on Mel's face. He didn't budge.
"Sleeping beauty's still hasn't got kissed?" she mocked.
"Na-ah. The way he snores? That's definitely Dumbo." I contradicted.
"Good point." she agreed. "Hasn't Mel got medical advice on this? It could be a major sleeping or breathing disorder, I dunno."
"We've tried a gazillion times. You know Rob even showed him the surveillance camera on what he does during the night. He denied the whole thing and won't hear a word about it." I reminded June
"So we're just gonna go on pretending we don't see him sleepwalk almost every night or hear his life-threatening snores?"
"Hate to say it but, yep." I answered. I flipped the envelope to have any idea from whom it was. Upon seeing the official-looking crest, I blinked. June was talking but I couldn't understand any ot it. Gripped by excitement, I hurriedly tore the envelope and scanned the paper inside.
"NO, EFFIN' WAY!" I burst out, which sent June jumping jerkily on the couch and 'sleeping beauty' waking groggily.
"Whazgoinon?" Mel squinted all around.
"I got it! I freakin got it!!!!!!!!!!!!" I shouted at the top of my lungs as I danced on top of the couch.
"Got what?"
"Zero cavities?" Mel said disinterestedly. He was clearly sulky because I ruined his sleep.
"Go kill yourself, and then take a look at this!" I pointed at the paper.
June read. After half a minute, her jaw dropped and her lips formed a big O.
"Oh my Gosh! You got the movie script for Wuthering Heights?" she mirrored my amazement.
“Say it again!” I begged her.
“YOU WINGED THE SCRIPT FOR WUTHERING HEIGHTS!” she screamed. We both let out a scream before hugging and bouncing up and down.
“What can I say? Congratulations!” June said.
“You can try-Welcome to hollywood!” I told her.
"Unbelievable!" June exclaimed.
"Morning glory?" Jitka barged in, wiping her face with a towel.
"Glory to the house of 125. Someone's climbing her way to fame." June cried dramatically.
"Another rockstar is born?" Jitka guessed. She seems to be thinking about Mike and what's gonna happen if another rocker bangs the walls at night.
"Not another Mike. Ember's to Tinseltown..." June added.
"Whoa! Didn't know you've got an acting career." Jitka said, confused.
"Heavens, no. I can't cry at will to save my soul. I get to write the script!" I finally explained.
"OH!Wow. Congratulations! That is great news." Jitka approved.
"Its crazy!" was all I said. "Wait, I gotta go arrange things with Kristel. I gotta leave first flight to Cali tomorrow."
"Who's going to Cali?" Issa came in.
"Me, Iz."
"Great!I'm coming with you. We can crash at Wilshire. I just called Jiesta and Lyca saying I'll come over." Issa said.
"Perfect. Gotta go to Gray Matters first.." I started to walk towards my room.
"Wrong. Hit the shower first, will you?" June called out.
"Will do, boss." I winked at her.
"Running out of Dan Brown again. He's gonna have an autograph signing at the university this week. We're selling Lost Symbol like hotcakes and I've been bugging the publishing house every 2 minutes coz the kids are driving me crazy," Kristel reported. The land line rung. She picked it up. "Gray matters. Sorry Jed. No news yet. Look, I promise I'll call you when the delivery truck shows up.
"You sure you're okay about me leaving tomorrow?" I asked tentatively.
"Hey, you are not gonna make me an excuse so you can worm out of this sitch, Girl. Spill, you scared?" she shot at me.
"Scared as you." I said sardonically.
"Excuse me. I quit my scriptwriting career coz its not what I really wanna do." Kristel pointed out.
"Yeah. You wanna haggle with kids and overdose them with caffeine."
"They love my latte, my sundaes, my frothe. That's how college ruins their life. Not my fault if they seem to wanna experiment on maximum human wakefulness. Like someone I know..." she said coyly. " And besides, I can't complain. Those caffeine junkies just gave me an early birthday present."
Before I can fully understand what she was talking about, Kristel quickly fiddled through the counter and showed me a familiar piece of paper.
"Seriously now?" I exclaimed.
"You really doubted we could actually do it, huh?" she said smugly. " Be back next week. I need a hand to set up the opening. I've phoned Gierin and she'll be around to help me decorate, get stuffs for the ribbon cutting. I'm thinking of carnations, really tall lilies, edible flowers, chocolate fountain's good too... "
She was beaming as she discussed animatedly. I saw work fulfillment flickering in her eyes. Envy spurned in my chest again, seeing Kristel look like she won the lottery. Sure, I'm thrilled that Gray Matters is gonna have a new branch. We've been working on it for three months. The business is a part of me as much as its part of her. But the buts are too nagging to ignore.
Right after college, we signed up for freelance script writers for Dreamworks. In truth, it was me who was brimming with furious enthusiasm to go Hollywood and make a name for myself. It was pretty easy convincing Kristel to come live with me at Wilshire, Sta. Monica since she still didn't have concrete plans. Our first project was a major motion picture. We toiled day and night, astounded of our beginner's luck and aching to prove ourselves worthy of the big break. The movie was a hit. Everything was pristine and it was predicted surefire that we're steadily on our way to the top. The movie reviews branded us killer neophytes.Our work even got us an Oscar's nomination.
The feeling was surreal. A 3d dream that sprung to life.
One television interview was all it took to corrupt my spotlight. One short question, " How are you related to Chloe Prince?"
"She's my sister."
"Ow, wow. That explains!"
The reviews that followed focused more on the comparison between my work and Chloe's. She's been writing scripts for five years, before she even left Harvard. On her third year, her first book was published. It sold out 5 million copies in one year.
Lord knows I had no jealous bone in my body. But I admit, it was hard being Chloe's sister. Being overshadowed was an occupational hazard I could have thankfully lived without. My academic achievements always came short compared to hers. It was a breather for me when I finally went to Princeton for college. Princeton opened up numerous doors for me. I felt like I was able to finally stretch out and spread out into the world of writing without my sister's name being tagged along every award I covet. Years after, our roads crossed again in Pasadena when I ran into her. This was a week after the premier night. She was writing for a movie that same year.
My sister won the Oscar's.
I embraced her, was genuinely happy for her when she made her speech. But when the after party was over, I laid in my bed and thought - second place again......
It felt like all my courage was sucked up into the drain.
Three days later, I got a call from the New York Times. Kristel and I moved out of Wilshire and flew to New York City that very same day.
Refusing to acknowledge the creepiness of my surroundings, I darted back my gaze to the blinking cursor.
Type. Type.
My article for the next day needs a little more embellishments before I consider it ready for printing. I tapped the space bar and delete keys interchangeably. Hmmm....
C'mon, brain cells..don't snooze.
The moisture dense wind blew on my face. Crap, I can't defy the goosebumps flourishing on my flesh anymore. So I got on my feet. The window creeked when I closed it. Suddenly, I head a thud issueing from the corridor leading to the south wing. Moonlight saturated the alley faintly. Weird, I thought. There's a blizzard outside but the moon was casting luminosity at the same time.
I picked up my laptop and settled back on the couch. I forced my train of thoughts to stop by where I was before the creepy interruption.
Then I heard it... Footfalls, getting closer and closer. I gritt my teeth before slowly turning towards the direction of the sound.
I held my breath, clenched my fist. There it goes... My eyes could not betray me as I took in the sight of a dark figure emerging from the corridor, coming to my direction. I deduced that it was walking; a man..
His head was down, his body trudging on little steps. The sky outside thundered violently.
I clung like a maniac to my laptop. No point screaming coz no one will likely hear me. But if he dares to cross within 2 meter radius, I'll knock him over till he passes out. But, do ghosts get concussions? I don't freaking care! A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do...
But when the 'ghost' reached the threshold of the sitting room, and I had my A and B strategies all planned out, I was surprised when he fell on the 3-step ladder.
Clumsy ghost, I thought dully. Then, I heard it groan. Sense dawned on me so I turned on the light switch.
Crap. I recognized the grey clint eastwood shirt worn by the 'ghost' by the name of-
"Mel." I called him. Of course, he's snoring his signature snore; the type that can scare the hell out of you cause you'd think his airway is obstructed by something huge.
I seized him by his armpits and pulled him to the carpet. After which, I placed one of the throwpillows under his head.
Stupid of me to even think of ghosts. Like I dunno for years that Mel sleepwalks. Among the allnighters, I'm the queen bee, the undisputed no-sleep champion with eyebags for trophies. My work demands for lenghty reading not possible for mankind, so Kristel says. She's my business partner in Gray Matters, our very own preppy book cafe. Though employed full-time at the New York Times, I do my share on the supervisory work for Gray Matters. Me and Kristel love it to bits. We have a common passion for books ever since time immemorial. When we were able to accumulate enough funds, we ventured to put up a cafe for students where they are able to enjoy a wide selection of books, mags, newspapers, journals while munching gastronomic treats. As predicted, the collegiates loved the idea. Thanks to them, Grey Matters became the hubhub for studying slash snacking.
"Argumentum ad miserecordiam.." Mel uttered like he's reminding me of his presence. He stirred.
Whatever he says when he's concious, I reckon Mel has pent up thoughts that keep on running through his mind after court hearings. He's got regrets that he's never gonna mention.
I rolled my eyes and held my laptop with full determination to finish my article.
"Sorry." Mel muttered. It was barely a whisper but it was audible enough. A smile crept on my lips.
"You've got mail." June showed up in her pajamas hours later, envelopes at hand.
"Morning." I greeted before accepting my post.
June sat beside me on the couch. She threw a pillow on Mel's face. He didn't budge.
"Sleeping beauty's still hasn't got kissed?" she mocked.
"Na-ah. The way he snores? That's definitely Dumbo." I contradicted.
"Good point." she agreed. "Hasn't Mel got medical advice on this? It could be a major sleeping or breathing disorder, I dunno."
"We've tried a gazillion times. You know Rob even showed him the surveillance camera on what he does during the night. He denied the whole thing and won't hear a word about it." I reminded June
"So we're just gonna go on pretending we don't see him sleepwalk almost every night or hear his life-threatening snores?"
"Hate to say it but, yep." I answered. I flipped the envelope to have any idea from whom it was. Upon seeing the official-looking crest, I blinked. June was talking but I couldn't understand any ot it. Gripped by excitement, I hurriedly tore the envelope and scanned the paper inside.
"NO, EFFIN' WAY!" I burst out, which sent June jumping jerkily on the couch and 'sleeping beauty' waking groggily.
"Whazgoinon?" Mel squinted all around.
"I got it! I freakin got it!!!!!!!!!!!!" I shouted at the top of my lungs as I danced on top of the couch.
"Got what?"
"Zero cavities?" Mel said disinterestedly. He was clearly sulky because I ruined his sleep.
"Go kill yourself, and then take a look at this!" I pointed at the paper.
June read. After half a minute, her jaw dropped and her lips formed a big O.
"Oh my Gosh! You got the movie script for Wuthering Heights?" she mirrored my amazement.
“Say it again!” I begged her.
“YOU WINGED THE SCRIPT FOR WUTHERING HEIGHTS!” she screamed. We both let out a scream before hugging and bouncing up and down.
“What can I say? Congratulations!” June said.
“You can try-Welcome to hollywood!” I told her.
"Unbelievable!" June exclaimed.
"Morning glory?" Jitka barged in, wiping her face with a towel.
"Glory to the house of 125. Someone's climbing her way to fame." June cried dramatically.
"Another rockstar is born?" Jitka guessed. She seems to be thinking about Mike and what's gonna happen if another rocker bangs the walls at night.
"Not another Mike. Ember's to Tinseltown..." June added.
"Whoa! Didn't know you've got an acting career." Jitka said, confused.
"Heavens, no. I can't cry at will to save my soul. I get to write the script!" I finally explained.
"OH!Wow. Congratulations! That is great news." Jitka approved.
"Its crazy!" was all I said. "Wait, I gotta go arrange things with Kristel. I gotta leave first flight to Cali tomorrow."
"Who's going to Cali?" Issa came in.
"Me, Iz."
"Great!I'm coming with you. We can crash at Wilshire. I just called Jiesta and Lyca saying I'll come over." Issa said.
"Perfect. Gotta go to Gray Matters first.." I started to walk towards my room.
"Wrong. Hit the shower first, will you?" June called out.
"Will do, boss." I winked at her.
"Running out of Dan Brown again. He's gonna have an autograph signing at the university this week. We're selling Lost Symbol like hotcakes and I've been bugging the publishing house every 2 minutes coz the kids are driving me crazy," Kristel reported. The land line rung. She picked it up. "Gray matters. Sorry Jed. No news yet. Look, I promise I'll call you when the delivery truck shows up.
"You sure you're okay about me leaving tomorrow?" I asked tentatively.
"Hey, you are not gonna make me an excuse so you can worm out of this sitch, Girl. Spill, you scared?" she shot at me.
"Scared as you." I said sardonically.
"Excuse me. I quit my scriptwriting career coz its not what I really wanna do." Kristel pointed out.
"Yeah. You wanna haggle with kids and overdose them with caffeine."
"They love my latte, my sundaes, my frothe. That's how college ruins their life. Not my fault if they seem to wanna experiment on maximum human wakefulness. Like someone I know..." she said coyly. " And besides, I can't complain. Those caffeine junkies just gave me an early birthday present."
Before I can fully understand what she was talking about, Kristel quickly fiddled through the counter and showed me a familiar piece of paper.
"Seriously now?" I exclaimed.
"You really doubted we could actually do it, huh?" she said smugly. " Be back next week. I need a hand to set up the opening. I've phoned Gierin and she'll be around to help me decorate, get stuffs for the ribbon cutting. I'm thinking of carnations, really tall lilies, edible flowers, chocolate fountain's good too... "
She was beaming as she discussed animatedly. I saw work fulfillment flickering in her eyes. Envy spurned in my chest again, seeing Kristel look like she won the lottery. Sure, I'm thrilled that Gray Matters is gonna have a new branch. We've been working on it for three months. The business is a part of me as much as its part of her. But the buts are too nagging to ignore.
Right after college, we signed up for freelance script writers for Dreamworks. In truth, it was me who was brimming with furious enthusiasm to go Hollywood and make a name for myself. It was pretty easy convincing Kristel to come live with me at Wilshire, Sta. Monica since she still didn't have concrete plans. Our first project was a major motion picture. We toiled day and night, astounded of our beginner's luck and aching to prove ourselves worthy of the big break. The movie was a hit. Everything was pristine and it was predicted surefire that we're steadily on our way to the top. The movie reviews branded us killer neophytes.Our work even got us an Oscar's nomination.
The feeling was surreal. A 3d dream that sprung to life.
One television interview was all it took to corrupt my spotlight. One short question, " How are you related to Chloe Prince?"
"She's my sister."
"Ow, wow. That explains!"
The reviews that followed focused more on the comparison between my work and Chloe's. She's been writing scripts for five years, before she even left Harvard. On her third year, her first book was published. It sold out 5 million copies in one year.
Lord knows I had no jealous bone in my body. But I admit, it was hard being Chloe's sister. Being overshadowed was an occupational hazard I could have thankfully lived without. My academic achievements always came short compared to hers. It was a breather for me when I finally went to Princeton for college. Princeton opened up numerous doors for me. I felt like I was able to finally stretch out and spread out into the world of writing without my sister's name being tagged along every award I covet. Years after, our roads crossed again in Pasadena when I ran into her. This was a week after the premier night. She was writing for a movie that same year.
My sister won the Oscar's.
I embraced her, was genuinely happy for her when she made her speech. But when the after party was over, I laid in my bed and thought - second place again......
It felt like all my courage was sucked up into the drain.
Three days later, I got a call from the New York Times. Kristel and I moved out of Wilshire and flew to New York City that very same day.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Episode1-Part4
"Tell Mr. Chou that I'll see him at twelve, as planned. Ring the hotel desk to confirm my reservations. Then call up Heather and have her schedule a board meeting on Wednesday at eight. Oh, and I need Arch. Torrence's feasibility study by my table at 6 pm. I have to meet up with the McKinley Heights Proposal team when I get back." Jem turned off her phone.
"You know Arch. Torrence?" I asked.
"Yes. Her company's a partner of mine. Currently, she's working with two of our employees. She your friend?" "My new housemate." I answered.
"Oh, you're the new addition to the cosmopolitan Olympus?" Jem smiled wryly.
"The what?"
"Apartment 125. The so-called house of the gods." she stated dramatically.
"Why"
"In case you didn't notice, your housemates are some of the most successful young professionals in New York. Its an incredible mix. I dunno if there's some sort of screening coz they seem to let in only selected few. So tell me, what's the secret that everyone's so curious about? Some rite of initiation?" Jem scrutinized.
"I'm still a neophyte and if there really are secrets, they won't be spilling anything yet. But I'll fill you in once they start animal sacrifices." I whispered conspiratorially.
Jem giggled.
I stopped on my tracks when I noted that we were standing right outside Jem's room.
She went in and convinced me to run along. I texted Jam and Pheobs to meet me in the cafeteria to gobble up some early lunch before our 1 o'clock surgery.
On the way to the corridor, I heard someone unfamiliar calling out my name.
"Yes, Mister?" squinting at him on the attempt to place his face.
I estimated his age for early fifties.
"I'm Mr. Conner."
"What can I do for you, sir?" I asked tentatively.
"I..I just..I want to see Mrs. Wendy Forbes Wyatt. I was told you were one of her attending physicians."
"That is correct, Mr. Conner. Are you a relative?" I interrogated him.
He hesitated. Patiently, I waited for him to say something. Before he could form a response, his facial expression rearranged.
"What do you think you're doing here?" It was Mr. Cranmer.
"So Mr. Conner is Mrs. Wyatt's ex?" Phoebs sought clarification.
"Yes. And when she got married to Mr. Wyatt, they had an affair. He's Macy's dad." I answered.
The three of us fell silent for a couple of seconds.
"Some story, eh?" Jam remarked.
"I never took Mrs. Wyatt for someone whose capable of...cheating." I voiced out what was running through our minds.
Silence again. There was no need to elaborate my implication. We all felt like one of our childhood heroes got involved in a sex video.
Mrs. Wyatt was our ideal lady. She was a responsible mom of five, a successful broker, and till now, a faithful wife in our eyes.
My beeper bleeped.
"Gotta go, Jam. Rounds." I announced.
Jam and I said goodbye to Phoebs. We traveled quietly towards the surgical floor.
There wasn't a question of whether or not things have changed with regards to the care we give Mrs. Wyatt. Our duty not to treat patients surpasses any personal biases.
And I wasn't the most judgmental person in the whole wide world. In fairness to myself, I could understand people whom the majority consider as complicated or even vile.
I guess, what really bugged me was the replay on a statement I defied less than 24 hours ago.
"We will deal with problems according to our profession."
I stepped into Mrs. Wyatt's room. Dr. Cranmer was already there, checking her monitors.
She saw me and Jam.
"Nothing out of order. Chief said she wants to prep u early for the lobotomy at 3:30 pm, Dr Aimes."
Jam nodded. "I'm on it."
"Dr. Evans, I have a special request for you."
"Her Dad had a hemorrhagic stroke when they got off their jet this morning. She has a history of bad status asthmaticus. I want you to talk to her. We don't want her having an attack coz she's stressed about his condition."
Dr. Cranmer directed my gaze to a pretty girl in her late teens. She was pacing back and forth in her four inch velvety black Jimmy Choos, her golden hair in disarray, her face blotched with the wet ebony mascara darkening her tear line. I noted the red, glittery Louis Vuitton Monogram Vernis. This wasn't some can't-afford chic.
"Ok. When will her Dad get off the surgery?" I inquired.
"Nothing's definite. He's now hovering between life and death. There's a huge risk of irreversible brain damage to some extent." Dr. Cranmer confessed."She needs to be prepared of what's to come. But we wanna prevent her getting sick herself. I want you to stay with her. I'll be back after about half an hour."
I nodded at her. She then left for the operating room.
"Nice Choos." I greeted. She halted her steps, and paid me attention.
"Thanks..." she smiled halfheartedly.
"You'll damage them at the rate you're pacing. Want a seat?" I offered.
She bit her lip before settling. "Is my dad gonna be ok?"
"He's still in the OR. His physicians will be coming over to keep you posted." I said.
"I'll be here. I'll wait right here." she cried on her palms. I reached out for her shoulder. "We were supposed to go back to Malibu tonight right after Macau. He promised me we'll spend time together now that he won't have to be away for business. I can't lose him. Not now when we just made up....I can't...It's all my fault" She was mumbling incoherently, so I held her.
"You feel guilty."
"A lot."
"Listen, what's happening to your dad is none of your fault...."
"No. I talked him into coming back to the US. He wanted to stay in Malaysia coz he said he's got stuffs to do but I made him leave.
Ever since the divorce with mom he hadn't been around. I hated him for years. And we just started to patch things up...I can't lose Dad.."
She sobbed harder.
"You gotta hold on. Your Dad's still fighting for his life. Its not an easy thing to do. He needs you. There's nothing sure about what's gonna happen tomorrow, but today, you can do something to change it, or make it easier for him, for both of you."
She smiled despite her tears. "Thanks, Dr...."
"Dr. Evans." I supplied.
"Ms. Bradford...." Dr. Cranmer called.
The girl, whose name I forgot to ask, faced her.
"How's my dad?"
"He's now in the recovery room. Still unconscious, under observation. But so far, he's stable."
"Can I please go and see him? I promise I won't fuss." the girl pleaded.
Dr. Cranmer nodded in affirmation.
Ms. Bradford ran off without a backward glance.
"He gonna be okay?" I asked when she was out of earshot.
"For that girl, I hope he is. The prognosis doesn't look too good. With luck, he'll be paraplegic at the very least. But with therapy, he might bounce back good as new within months." Dr. Cranmer stated.
As Dr. Cranmer was talking, a silly thought came across my mind.
"Bradford? He doesn't happen to be Richard Bradford, right?" I blurted.
Dr. Cranmer looked at me straight at the eye. "The business tycoon who owned ARS? I'm afraid he is. One and the same. He came home from Macau with his daughter Arien."
I was speechless. Thousands of ideas kept popping off my mind. Arien Bradford's tears were wet against my lab coat.
I just woke up from a 30 minute nap after my 8 hour shift. There was rare silence surrounding the house. The tall, peculiar grandfather clock stationed at 8:30 PM. I smiled in appreciation of the rusty red, futuristic android shaped furniture. Issa told me it was Cyrus' own design.
"Where is everybody?" I asked Rob. No one running around the madhouse at this time of day? Not exactly the daily picture.
"At the garage. Bless' got a shiny new toy. Hybrid Shelby GT350 and F430 Spider. Overhauled and ready to roll." he bragged excitedly.
"I don't speak car lingo much.. but GT350 and F430? Fancy sports cars, right? How'd he...?" I wondered out loud.
"He's an auto engineer extraordinaire. Specializes on sports cars. Folks are huddled there to see him test drive. Trust me, you would wanna come." he invited.
"Okay. Later. I'll stop by at the backyard to get some fresh air then I'll go straight to the garage." I said.
"K. See yah." he exited.
The air was thick with the nearing winter breeze just around the corner. One cold almost taste the biting cold as it comes in contact with my skin, and perhaps, with my brain as well.
"Need a bud?" came a sound.
Mel's figure materialized a few feet from me. He was holding out an opened Budweiser for me.
"Could use something to warm me up." I conveyed acceptance.
I grabbed the beer. He sat at my side.
"Cheers to the righteous?" he teased.
"Tsk." I smirked without venom.
"Still pissed?" said Mel.
I inhaled first before answering. "Would you care if I said yes?"
"No." he answered honestly. "I've said what I've said. I take nothing back."
"So I suspected."
It was his turn to smirk. "Just so you know, the Bradford case earned me a reputation. This morning, a man came by my office. He was a loan shark when he was younger, now a tax evader, 5 time divorced, and...he's filthy rich. His recent conquest is a sort of big conglomerate, which I suspect he's been sabotaging so its sales will go all downhill. You know, so can buy out the sales at very low price...." he took a slug from the beer. " I get people like him everyday. They proliferate like bacteria, and the newer strains get more notorious than the last."
I don't like them but I'm stuck working with them.- I reckon its what he's trying to say.
"The justice system isn't fair. Nothing in this whole damned milky way is, and that includes business. Someone's always trying to one-up someone. Then somewhere in between, an injured party finally gets fed up and cries foul. People get emotional coz they wanna get vindicated. They wanna get even. You think if there's nothing to check out some equilibrium in the chaos, what will the world be like? Even criminals are entitled for their right to a court's impartiality. And that, that's why I became a lawyer."
I chanced a glance at him. Mel was gulping down the rest of his beer.
"Are you staying in the house?" he suddenly managed to ask.
With conviction, I answered. "Yeah. Fine with you?"
Mel stood up.
"You've got enough grit to strike at me. I like my housemates who can argue; ergo, who can think. I can live with a moralist such as you than with a dummy. I'd suffer."
He held out his hand.I clasped it and then stood.
"I'm not too good on welcome rites, but our housemates got a surprise for you." he said.
"Surprise...for me?"
"In the garage." Mel added.
I kicked the garage backdoor giggling.
"Surprise!!!!!!" reverberated the earthshaking roar from within. The water sprinklers on the roof were on. The boys went crazy flinging the uncorked wine bottles, showering it everywhere. The music came to life, blaring. Neon lights together with a quirky colorful disco ball blinked in rhythm.
"Wow!I feel like a bomb.." I finally was able to say.
"Bang! Unpinned and released. Let's party hard!" Issa grabbed me by the wrist to the center of the crowd.
"Welcome to the 125 jungle!" Rhea shouted.
All hands were in the air, dancing to the sick beat.
Soaking wet with perspiration, alcohol and water 2 hours later, I positioned myself over the dismantled car seat. For the first time, I was able to observe the setting of the garage properly. Mike and Rob's Ducatis were stationed in the corner. Cliff's black lamborghini gallardo was halfway concealed beside Ember's Grey Lancia. My own white cadillac escalade was parked outside.
"Where's the rest of the cars?" I asked June who was draining a margarita.
"Out."
"What is that?" I pointed at the outline of a car draped by a large red cloth.
"THAT is a masterpiece of pure genius!" Blessed cried theatrically.
"C'mon Bless, showtime!" Rob eagerly egged him on. The two of them went on either side of the vehicle.
Cyrus tuned up the volume of the loudspeaker to the sound of the Tokyo Drift song.
On the count of three, they unveiled it.
There was a collective "WoW!" all around. Even me, who wasn't a car enthusiast was blown away.
"Unbelievable. Is that a Mustang?"
"Are you kidding me, its gotta be a Ferrari. The exterior gave it away."
The boys volleyed through arguments what it really was.
"I don't care what it is. I love my mini coooper! This one is humongous.." Issa wrinkled her nose in disdain. "Its great for a guy, though." she admitted.
It was only me who was listening to her because everyone was bustling around Blessed's new babe.
"Cool toy for a big boy, Bless," I commended him.
"Thanks. I only got one week to be with her though. The company's fetching her." he said to me.
"Sure you'll miss it."
"Yep. But if this is a hit, I'll get to tinker an Enzo next. What joy..." his eyes were getting dreamy.
"Ferrari Enzo? Now that's a real deal." I approved.
"I know. Wait till you see the latest black one's dashboard. Sweet."
"Better that the red one?"
"Way better. Hey, you dig cars." he observed.
"Not much. My Ex has a ferrari dino. Loves it more than anything in this world put together." including me, I didn't broadcast.
"Is that a recent Ex?" Bless interrogated.
"Technically, no. He doesn't know I've broken up with him yet." I confessed.
"What's the sitch?"
"Caught him in the act with his so-called business partner. In his apartment. 2 weeks ago. I'll bet my bottom dollar that they've been on it for quite sometime. This isn't the first time he's done it, but I swear its gonna be the last." I declared.
"Won't you teach him a lesson? He'll deserve it." Blessed stated as-a-matter-of-factly.
"If I can manage." I smiled coyly.
My phone rang. "Speak of the devil.." I muttered before answering.
"Alex."
"I'm surprised you still remember my name. I thought you just woke up one day with amnesia." he grumbled.
"What is it that you want?" I asked, once and for all.
"To talk. I'm right outside your new house." he emphasized NEW. It was very typical of Alex to display his power. He wanted to scare me, wanted to implicate that he can track me down, wanted to exercise his power over me. Power tripping, it was probably the reason why I couldn't worm out of our relationship, more than anything else. Love was out of the question. This time I believe that if your partner mutilates your heart, eventually, you'll find that the fire burns out however heated it was at the start.
I snapped the phone shut and walked out of the party without a word.
"Spare me the drama. What the hell is going on?" Alex flared.
"Shouldn't I be the one asking?" I shot back. "Wait, maybe I shouldn't because I've known it for a very long time. And I was just stupid enough to eat up all the crap you bought me. Sorry to say, Alex. Things have changed."
"You sure seem to change too many things drastically. New house. New phone number. New car. You can reboot you life from A to Z. But you can't get rid of me that easily. You can't wipe me off like some dirt on your face and expect me to say nothing." he ranted.
"I don't expect you to shut up about it, but you're right. You're dirt on my face and I can't wait to scrub you off." my voice was icy.
"Jit, hey." he said in a different tone. "If this is about Heather..."
"Heather. Lisa. Rachelle. Tina..and do I need to mention your boss? Am I missing anyone?" I stared straight into his eyes.
"Babe, I can explain.."
"I don't wanna hear it. Not a word no more. I've had too much shit talk from you for 4 years. I'm overdosed. So save it. If there's anything I need from you right now, Alex, its for you to leave not only this place, but especially my life." I said bluntly.
His face was livid. He was seething as he slowly stepped back from me.
"Fine. I'll leave. I won't forget this, Jit."
"So am I." I spat sardonically.
Then I saw his back retreating. The smell of his defeat made me inwardly ecstatic.
"Can we clap our hands now?"
I checked who was speaking. Issa, Ember, Cynthia and Rhea stepped out of the dark.
"Permission granted," I said to them.
"Thanks. Although, your ex is kinda hot.." Issa said despite of herself.
I smiled ruefully. "Yeah. Too hot that I got scald marks all over me. He wrapped me around his finger and cauterized me."
"And now you poached his manhood by putting your foot down and throwing the flames at him. Ain't no better way to unman him." Ember grinned.
After Ember and I exchanged high-fives, we heard an ugly screech from somewhere over the road. All of us sprinted.
"Oh my gosh!" Cynthia cried.
She was the only one who was shocked. Everyone of us burst out laughing, mine was more hearty.
The red ferrari dino, about 15 feet away from where we were standing was emitting smoke on the rear. It seemed to be crawling in a backward forward motion. To complete the picture, Alex was cursing at the top of his lungs.
"What happened?" Rhea was able to ask.
"Nothing," Bless tried to sound innocent. "I just thought he might need some adjustments, that's all. But I forgot to tell him." he winked at me.
I paid him a smile.
"C'mon, guys..Let's get back home." June said to me.
Yeah. Back home. At apartment 125-where I rightly belong.
"You know Arch. Torrence?" I asked.
"Yes. Her company's a partner of mine. Currently, she's working with two of our employees. She your friend?" "My new housemate." I answered.
"Oh, you're the new addition to the cosmopolitan Olympus?" Jem smiled wryly.
"The what?"
"Apartment 125. The so-called house of the gods." she stated dramatically.
"Why"
"In case you didn't notice, your housemates are some of the most successful young professionals in New York. Its an incredible mix. I dunno if there's some sort of screening coz they seem to let in only selected few. So tell me, what's the secret that everyone's so curious about? Some rite of initiation?" Jem scrutinized.
"I'm still a neophyte and if there really are secrets, they won't be spilling anything yet. But I'll fill you in once they start animal sacrifices." I whispered conspiratorially.
Jem giggled.
I stopped on my tracks when I noted that we were standing right outside Jem's room.
She went in and convinced me to run along. I texted Jam and Pheobs to meet me in the cafeteria to gobble up some early lunch before our 1 o'clock surgery.
On the way to the corridor, I heard someone unfamiliar calling out my name.
"Yes, Mister?" squinting at him on the attempt to place his face.
I estimated his age for early fifties.
"I'm Mr. Conner."
"What can I do for you, sir?" I asked tentatively.
"I..I just..I want to see Mrs. Wendy Forbes Wyatt. I was told you were one of her attending physicians."
"That is correct, Mr. Conner. Are you a relative?" I interrogated him.
He hesitated. Patiently, I waited for him to say something. Before he could form a response, his facial expression rearranged.
"What do you think you're doing here?" It was Mr. Cranmer.
"So Mr. Conner is Mrs. Wyatt's ex?" Phoebs sought clarification.
"Yes. And when she got married to Mr. Wyatt, they had an affair. He's Macy's dad." I answered.
The three of us fell silent for a couple of seconds.
"Some story, eh?" Jam remarked.
"I never took Mrs. Wyatt for someone whose capable of...cheating." I voiced out what was running through our minds.
Silence again. There was no need to elaborate my implication. We all felt like one of our childhood heroes got involved in a sex video.
Mrs. Wyatt was our ideal lady. She was a responsible mom of five, a successful broker, and till now, a faithful wife in our eyes.
My beeper bleeped.
"Gotta go, Jam. Rounds." I announced.
Jam and I said goodbye to Phoebs. We traveled quietly towards the surgical floor.
There wasn't a question of whether or not things have changed with regards to the care we give Mrs. Wyatt. Our duty not to treat patients surpasses any personal biases.
And I wasn't the most judgmental person in the whole wide world. In fairness to myself, I could understand people whom the majority consider as complicated or even vile.
I guess, what really bugged me was the replay on a statement I defied less than 24 hours ago.
"We will deal with problems according to our profession."
I stepped into Mrs. Wyatt's room. Dr. Cranmer was already there, checking her monitors.
She saw me and Jam.
"Nothing out of order. Chief said she wants to prep u early for the lobotomy at 3:30 pm, Dr Aimes."
Jam nodded. "I'm on it."
"Dr. Evans, I have a special request for you."
"Her Dad had a hemorrhagic stroke when they got off their jet this morning. She has a history of bad status asthmaticus. I want you to talk to her. We don't want her having an attack coz she's stressed about his condition."
Dr. Cranmer directed my gaze to a pretty girl in her late teens. She was pacing back and forth in her four inch velvety black Jimmy Choos, her golden hair in disarray, her face blotched with the wet ebony mascara darkening her tear line. I noted the red, glittery Louis Vuitton Monogram Vernis. This wasn't some can't-afford chic.
"Ok. When will her Dad get off the surgery?" I inquired.
"Nothing's definite. He's now hovering between life and death. There's a huge risk of irreversible brain damage to some extent." Dr. Cranmer confessed."She needs to be prepared of what's to come. But we wanna prevent her getting sick herself. I want you to stay with her. I'll be back after about half an hour."
I nodded at her. She then left for the operating room.
"Nice Choos." I greeted. She halted her steps, and paid me attention.
"Thanks..." she smiled halfheartedly.
"You'll damage them at the rate you're pacing. Want a seat?" I offered.
She bit her lip before settling. "Is my dad gonna be ok?"
"He's still in the OR. His physicians will be coming over to keep you posted." I said.
"I'll be here. I'll wait right here." she cried on her palms. I reached out for her shoulder. "We were supposed to go back to Malibu tonight right after Macau. He promised me we'll spend time together now that he won't have to be away for business. I can't lose him. Not now when we just made up....I can't...It's all my fault" She was mumbling incoherently, so I held her.
"You feel guilty."
"A lot."
"Listen, what's happening to your dad is none of your fault...."
"No. I talked him into coming back to the US. He wanted to stay in Malaysia coz he said he's got stuffs to do but I made him leave.
Ever since the divorce with mom he hadn't been around. I hated him for years. And we just started to patch things up...I can't lose Dad.."
She sobbed harder.
"You gotta hold on. Your Dad's still fighting for his life. Its not an easy thing to do. He needs you. There's nothing sure about what's gonna happen tomorrow, but today, you can do something to change it, or make it easier for him, for both of you."
She smiled despite her tears. "Thanks, Dr...."
"Dr. Evans." I supplied.
"Ms. Bradford...." Dr. Cranmer called.
The girl, whose name I forgot to ask, faced her.
"How's my dad?"
"He's now in the recovery room. Still unconscious, under observation. But so far, he's stable."
"Can I please go and see him? I promise I won't fuss." the girl pleaded.
Dr. Cranmer nodded in affirmation.
Ms. Bradford ran off without a backward glance.
"He gonna be okay?" I asked when she was out of earshot.
"For that girl, I hope he is. The prognosis doesn't look too good. With luck, he'll be paraplegic at the very least. But with therapy, he might bounce back good as new within months." Dr. Cranmer stated.
As Dr. Cranmer was talking, a silly thought came across my mind.
"Bradford? He doesn't happen to be Richard Bradford, right?" I blurted.
Dr. Cranmer looked at me straight at the eye. "The business tycoon who owned ARS? I'm afraid he is. One and the same. He came home from Macau with his daughter Arien."
I was speechless. Thousands of ideas kept popping off my mind. Arien Bradford's tears were wet against my lab coat.
I just woke up from a 30 minute nap after my 8 hour shift. There was rare silence surrounding the house. The tall, peculiar grandfather clock stationed at 8:30 PM. I smiled in appreciation of the rusty red, futuristic android shaped furniture. Issa told me it was Cyrus' own design.
"Where is everybody?" I asked Rob. No one running around the madhouse at this time of day? Not exactly the daily picture.
"At the garage. Bless' got a shiny new toy. Hybrid Shelby GT350 and F430 Spider. Overhauled and ready to roll." he bragged excitedly.
"I don't speak car lingo much.. but GT350 and F430? Fancy sports cars, right? How'd he...?" I wondered out loud.
"He's an auto engineer extraordinaire. Specializes on sports cars. Folks are huddled there to see him test drive. Trust me, you would wanna come." he invited.
"Okay. Later. I'll stop by at the backyard to get some fresh air then I'll go straight to the garage." I said.
"K. See yah." he exited.
The air was thick with the nearing winter breeze just around the corner. One cold almost taste the biting cold as it comes in contact with my skin, and perhaps, with my brain as well.
"Need a bud?" came a sound.
Mel's figure materialized a few feet from me. He was holding out an opened Budweiser for me.
"Could use something to warm me up." I conveyed acceptance.
I grabbed the beer. He sat at my side.
"Cheers to the righteous?" he teased.
"Tsk." I smirked without venom.
"Still pissed?" said Mel.
I inhaled first before answering. "Would you care if I said yes?"
"No." he answered honestly. "I've said what I've said. I take nothing back."
"So I suspected."
It was his turn to smirk. "Just so you know, the Bradford case earned me a reputation. This morning, a man came by my office. He was a loan shark when he was younger, now a tax evader, 5 time divorced, and...he's filthy rich. His recent conquest is a sort of big conglomerate, which I suspect he's been sabotaging so its sales will go all downhill. You know, so can buy out the sales at very low price...." he took a slug from the beer. " I get people like him everyday. They proliferate like bacteria, and the newer strains get more notorious than the last."
I don't like them but I'm stuck working with them.- I reckon its what he's trying to say.
"The justice system isn't fair. Nothing in this whole damned milky way is, and that includes business. Someone's always trying to one-up someone. Then somewhere in between, an injured party finally gets fed up and cries foul. People get emotional coz they wanna get vindicated. They wanna get even. You think if there's nothing to check out some equilibrium in the chaos, what will the world be like? Even criminals are entitled for their right to a court's impartiality. And that, that's why I became a lawyer."
I chanced a glance at him. Mel was gulping down the rest of his beer.
"Are you staying in the house?" he suddenly managed to ask.
With conviction, I answered. "Yeah. Fine with you?"
Mel stood up.
"You've got enough grit to strike at me. I like my housemates who can argue; ergo, who can think. I can live with a moralist such as you than with a dummy. I'd suffer."
He held out his hand.I clasped it and then stood.
"I'm not too good on welcome rites, but our housemates got a surprise for you." he said.
"Surprise...for me?"
"In the garage." Mel added.
I kicked the garage backdoor giggling.
"Surprise!!!!!!" reverberated the earthshaking roar from within. The water sprinklers on the roof were on. The boys went crazy flinging the uncorked wine bottles, showering it everywhere. The music came to life, blaring. Neon lights together with a quirky colorful disco ball blinked in rhythm.
"Wow!I feel like a bomb.." I finally was able to say.
"Bang! Unpinned and released. Let's party hard!" Issa grabbed me by the wrist to the center of the crowd.
"Welcome to the 125 jungle!" Rhea shouted.
All hands were in the air, dancing to the sick beat.
Soaking wet with perspiration, alcohol and water 2 hours later, I positioned myself over the dismantled car seat. For the first time, I was able to observe the setting of the garage properly. Mike and Rob's Ducatis were stationed in the corner. Cliff's black lamborghini gallardo was halfway concealed beside Ember's Grey Lancia. My own white cadillac escalade was parked outside.
"Where's the rest of the cars?" I asked June who was draining a margarita.
"Out."
"What is that?" I pointed at the outline of a car draped by a large red cloth.
"THAT is a masterpiece of pure genius!" Blessed cried theatrically.
"C'mon Bless, showtime!" Rob eagerly egged him on. The two of them went on either side of the vehicle.
Cyrus tuned up the volume of the loudspeaker to the sound of the Tokyo Drift song.
On the count of three, they unveiled it.
There was a collective "WoW!" all around. Even me, who wasn't a car enthusiast was blown away.
"Unbelievable. Is that a Mustang?"
"Are you kidding me, its gotta be a Ferrari. The exterior gave it away."
The boys volleyed through arguments what it really was.
"I don't care what it is. I love my mini coooper! This one is humongous.." Issa wrinkled her nose in disdain. "Its great for a guy, though." she admitted.
It was only me who was listening to her because everyone was bustling around Blessed's new babe.
"Cool toy for a big boy, Bless," I commended him.
"Thanks. I only got one week to be with her though. The company's fetching her." he said to me.
"Sure you'll miss it."
"Yep. But if this is a hit, I'll get to tinker an Enzo next. What joy..." his eyes were getting dreamy.
"Ferrari Enzo? Now that's a real deal." I approved.
"I know. Wait till you see the latest black one's dashboard. Sweet."
"Better that the red one?"
"Way better. Hey, you dig cars." he observed.
"Not much. My Ex has a ferrari dino. Loves it more than anything in this world put together." including me, I didn't broadcast.
"Is that a recent Ex?" Bless interrogated.
"Technically, no. He doesn't know I've broken up with him yet." I confessed.
"What's the sitch?"
"Caught him in the act with his so-called business partner. In his apartment. 2 weeks ago. I'll bet my bottom dollar that they've been on it for quite sometime. This isn't the first time he's done it, but I swear its gonna be the last." I declared.
"Won't you teach him a lesson? He'll deserve it." Blessed stated as-a-matter-of-factly.
"If I can manage." I smiled coyly.
My phone rang. "Speak of the devil.." I muttered before answering.
"Alex."
"I'm surprised you still remember my name. I thought you just woke up one day with amnesia." he grumbled.
"What is it that you want?" I asked, once and for all.
"To talk. I'm right outside your new house." he emphasized NEW. It was very typical of Alex to display his power. He wanted to scare me, wanted to implicate that he can track me down, wanted to exercise his power over me. Power tripping, it was probably the reason why I couldn't worm out of our relationship, more than anything else. Love was out of the question. This time I believe that if your partner mutilates your heart, eventually, you'll find that the fire burns out however heated it was at the start.
I snapped the phone shut and walked out of the party without a word.
"Spare me the drama. What the hell is going on?" Alex flared.
"Shouldn't I be the one asking?" I shot back. "Wait, maybe I shouldn't because I've known it for a very long time. And I was just stupid enough to eat up all the crap you bought me. Sorry to say, Alex. Things have changed."
"You sure seem to change too many things drastically. New house. New phone number. New car. You can reboot you life from A to Z. But you can't get rid of me that easily. You can't wipe me off like some dirt on your face and expect me to say nothing." he ranted.
"I don't expect you to shut up about it, but you're right. You're dirt on my face and I can't wait to scrub you off." my voice was icy.
"Jit, hey." he said in a different tone. "If this is about Heather..."
"Heather. Lisa. Rachelle. Tina..and do I need to mention your boss? Am I missing anyone?" I stared straight into his eyes.
"Babe, I can explain.."
"I don't wanna hear it. Not a word no more. I've had too much shit talk from you for 4 years. I'm overdosed. So save it. If there's anything I need from you right now, Alex, its for you to leave not only this place, but especially my life." I said bluntly.
His face was livid. He was seething as he slowly stepped back from me.
"Fine. I'll leave. I won't forget this, Jit."
"So am I." I spat sardonically.
Then I saw his back retreating. The smell of his defeat made me inwardly ecstatic.
"Can we clap our hands now?"
I checked who was speaking. Issa, Ember, Cynthia and Rhea stepped out of the dark.
"Permission granted," I said to them.
"Thanks. Although, your ex is kinda hot.." Issa said despite of herself.
I smiled ruefully. "Yeah. Too hot that I got scald marks all over me. He wrapped me around his finger and cauterized me."
"And now you poached his manhood by putting your foot down and throwing the flames at him. Ain't no better way to unman him." Ember grinned.
After Ember and I exchanged high-fives, we heard an ugly screech from somewhere over the road. All of us sprinted.
"Oh my gosh!" Cynthia cried.
She was the only one who was shocked. Everyone of us burst out laughing, mine was more hearty.
The red ferrari dino, about 15 feet away from where we were standing was emitting smoke on the rear. It seemed to be crawling in a backward forward motion. To complete the picture, Alex was cursing at the top of his lungs.
"What happened?" Rhea was able to ask.
"Nothing," Bless tried to sound innocent. "I just thought he might need some adjustments, that's all. But I forgot to tell him." he winked at me.
I paid him a smile.
"C'mon, guys..Let's get back home." June said to me.
Yeah. Back home. At apartment 125-where I rightly belong.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Episode 1- Part 3
"She's still in a coma. And as we've told you before the surgery, this can happen." Jam informed the family. They were all huddled up around Mrs. Wyatt's sickbed.
"When will she wake up?" one of the daughters asked.
Jam paused before telling her. "We can't say exactly. But she's in the best form for someone who went through the same procedure."
"So, we're not really sure?" there was a desperate sentiment from the daughter.
"Macy... Mom's gonna wake up." The elder sister assured her.
"And she's gonna need you when she does." Dr. Cranmer told them. "The cancer is out of her nervous system. When she's ready, we're gonna continue with chemo for her melanoma."
I could see that the family was somehow feeling relieved. I felt a rush of respect for Dr. Novy Cranmer. She was the best Oncologist in the hospital. Although the strain was showing in her eyes, she was hopeful. She had been battling cancer with this client from the moment she was diagnosed two months ago. The Wyatt's held her presence as a beacon of hope that their mother will get through the hellhole despite the rough treatments and feeble chances.
Mr. Wyatt kissed his wife's temples. Then he faced us.
"Dr. Cranmer, Dr. Aimes, Dr. Evans, thank you so much..."
We smiled. There were no words for us to convey.
"Hang on, Mr. Wyatt. Dorothy's strength comes from you. Don't let her lose it. If you excuse us..." Dr. Cranmer said to him.
"Her labs are coming good. Creatinine has hit 1.0" I reported.
"She's gonna relapse from this coma, Nov." Jam hypothesized.
"I'll pray for it. The probability of survival is high, I know. I've seen worst cases come out of it ok. But we all know there's no way of telling for sure." Novy said objectively.
"Doctor Cranmer." came a call behind us.
"Dr. Lee." Novy acknowledged the head of the surgical program: Dr. Viannese Lee."How's Mrs. Wyatt?" she addressed the three of us.
"Stable. We removed all metz. Dr. Aimes double checked the CT. She went to V-tach twice during the procedure but so far, her vital signs are holding up." Novy prompted.
"Its just the strain of the surgery and hypovolemia. Her former MVA hasn't caused problems yet. I'll get her on steroids after 24 hours." I added.
"I saw the scans myself. Looking good. In few days time, she could gain consciousness." Dr. Lee replied with infectious optimism.
"We will monitor her." Jam said.
We we're all hopeful. Mrs. Wyatt was one of our favorite patients on the floor. She was strong and somehow never run out of courage however rough the treatment regimen gets.
"Of course. Our patient is a fighter, and I expect you to be nothing less braver than she is." Dr. Lee said.
"Dr. Lee, Mr. Harrison is waiting for you at the board room." Dr. Phoebie Dare came in view.
"Thanks, Dr. Dare. I'll leave you to it, Doctors." She hurried to the elevator in a swish of robes.
Dr. Cranmer's pager beeped. "Gotta run along too. See you guys around." She was off.
"Everything okay, Pheobs?" I asked, cautiously.
"Never better. Don't look so suspicious, Jit. Give me the a break." Pheobie replied airily.
"Did the wind blow the wrong way today with you and Frank?" it was Jam's turn to interrogate.
"I met him outside the board room and he asked me to pass the message to Dr. Lee." She stared straight at Jam's face. "I'm perfectly capable of acting like a professional, Jam. Whatever me and Frank had is a thing of the past now. And I'm too damn good a dermatologist to let him mess with my work."
"About time. Its been three months since the split up, Pheobs. And I'm kinda tired of talking to you in the phone till 3 AM with you crying hysterically on the other end..." Jam told her bluntly.
"Gee, Jam. If i had known how you feel about me-" Phoebie started to reproach.
Jam cut through her, "Not what I meant. You should move on to acceptance, Pheobs. That's the healthy thing. And besides, I'm waiting on someone to take your drama queen title," I felt Jam's gaze on my face.
"Please, Jam..." I groaned.
"You are not dealing with your grief?" Phoebie took her turn to grill me.
"You," I pointed at Jam."...are a neurosurgeon. And you," I pointed at Pheobs."are a Dermatologist. So quit trying the psychiatry crap with me. I had the same units in college, I can see where this is going."
"Jit, you gotta crack up..." Jam started to say.
"Yeah, Jit. You don't have to soak up 20 rolls of tissues a week like me. You can eat Ferrero Rocher all day, yell at the newsboy, break your mom's yin dynasty china, or shove a trache tube down my Ex's throat."
"Phoebs," Jam chuckled. "In case you've got temporary amnesia, I'll remind you that Frank is the hospital director. Jitka will be fired before she can even unwrap the tube."
"Fine. Scratch that..But that's not my point. Jit, just do something. Don't bottle it up."
My phone rang. I saw the name on the screen. Like a reflex, I hit cancel.
"Hmm. Alex?" Jam mentioned my ex's name.
I gave her a confirmatory nod.
"Have you confronted him?" Jam asked.
I didn't answer.
"Typical of you to avoid confrontations. If it was me in your shoes, I'd probably be scheming diabolical plans of revenge, not hiding. from that arse like a criminal." Phoebs said indignantly.
"I'm not you, Phoebs. I dunno what to do. I'm still trying to think things over." I told them.
Jam approached the nearby vending machine. She bought three iced coffee in cans. "Here, this might help."
Phoebs took hers. "What's there to think about? He was cheating on you, and there ain't no way around it. You have to talk to him."
"She's right, Jit. You can't play hide and seek with Alex forever. He's bound to wonder why you haven't been answering his calls and seeing him." Jam agreed.
"I know. I'll figure this out soon, I promise." I said, admitting defeat.
Jam's beeper sounded.
"Its from the ER."
"I'm coming with you, I need a word with the new resident." Phoebs chimed.
"Me three. My clinic duty is due in 10 minutes." I said.
"Nurse Campbell, you got a patient for me?" Jam called on one of ER staff.
"Oh, its not about that Dr. Aimes. Its your sister."
Phoebie and I, standing a few feet from Jam, immediately rushed to her side.
"What about her?" Jam said sharply.
"She's in there with Doctor West." the nurse pointed at the one of the curtained beds. Jam crossed the distance in a heartbeat. she drew the curtains in haste.
"I told them there's no need to call you." I heard Jem groan.
"What happened?" Jam took her penlight and swiftly performed physical examination.
The intern, Doctor West obliged a quick briefing. "She was complaining of excruciating headaches, Dr. Aimes. I have scheduled her for neurochecks, and CT and MRI this afternoon."
"Thanks, Dr. West. I'll take it from here."
The intern walked past me.
"Will you cancel the tests he ordered? I don't need them." Jem declared.
"I won't. Maybe you do need them. These attacks are getting worst. You gotta stay until I've gone through your results." Jam said condescendingly.
"I've got an important lunch meeting, Jam."
"Then cancel it."
"No deal. He can only spare me an hour. He's flying back to China by 2 PM." Jem said, looking scandalized.
"Have it rescheduled. As your physician, I'm ordering you to stay confined."
"I'm fine, jam. All limbs intact. As my company's Vice-President for Operations, I gotta go. Right now." Jem insisted.
"As your older sister-"
"By 3 lousy minutes, remember?""Yeah. But doesn't change the fact that I am the older one. So suck it up."
"Won't do Jam. I really gotta get going."
"Uh, mind if I interrupt?" I spoke.
They both looked at me. "Why don't you try a compromise? Jem, no disrespect but you look terrible. Why don't you rest for a couple of minutes, then you can go to your meeting. Its still 10:20."
They both considered me.
"I'll agree if you promise to come straight back here soon as your meeting is over." Jam added.
Jem closed her eyes. She seemed to want the argument to be over. Massaging her temples, she replied. "Ok. Fine."
"Dr. Dare," a new intern I did not recognize beckoned Phoebs.
"Yes," she responded. She quickly winked at Jem. "Be back in a jiffy." She hurried away.
"You guys go. I'm not gonna keep you from your patients. I'll lie down for a while. Then I'll get going to Preston." Jem shooed us.
"Okay. I'll check on you before you do that, though." Jam told her.
"Jam, don't fuss. I swore I'll drop by here by afternoon, didn't I?" Nurse Campbell's head popped in curtains. "Dr. Aimes, you got a new admission."
"Coming." was Jam's reply. "Call me, later please."
"Yes, boss." Jem said dully.
When Jam was out of earshot, I laughed."How does it feel that she can control you like that when you have an empire to lord over outside?"
She grinned. "Weird. But you know she's not the bossy one,really. I hate to admit it but most of the time, I'm the manipulator."
I shook my head, then smiled. "She just doesn't know when to say no sometimes. That's why people take advantage of her."
"True."
"She's really worried about you, though. She's conferred to me that you are having these headaches more frequently than the usual. Got her concerned."
"Hmmm. Don't tell my sister but yeah. They're not worst, just more frequent I guess. Jam's explained that they're caused by stress. I'm a disciplined person; I eat, I jog in the morning. The only guilt I have is I don't sleep much. Jam's mentioned to you why, I reckon.." She gave me a meaningful look.
"That you're in the running for CEO at your company? Yeah, she did. Can't say I'm surprised." I said.
"I told her not to spill. Big mouth." she feigned sulking.
"Phoebs was wondering why you couldn't even join us for breakfast even on weekends." I elucidated.
"So much to do. I have to step up. Its a big leap for me, from the marketing to the administrative office. And they know I'm managing the hotel so my boss tells me I gotta prove that I can juggle all the work." Jem lamented.
"Wow. Dunno how you do it."
"Its cliche, I know but its just time management. I'm not saying its easy."
"Its written all over your face. You're dead on your feet. Tell you what, the ER isn't as comfortable as your own room. I'll get you one. What do you say?" I offered.
"Sounds great."
"When will she wake up?" one of the daughters asked.
Jam paused before telling her. "We can't say exactly. But she's in the best form for someone who went through the same procedure."
"So, we're not really sure?" there was a desperate sentiment from the daughter.
"Macy... Mom's gonna wake up." The elder sister assured her.
"And she's gonna need you when she does." Dr. Cranmer told them. "The cancer is out of her nervous system. When she's ready, we're gonna continue with chemo for her melanoma."
I could see that the family was somehow feeling relieved. I felt a rush of respect for Dr. Novy Cranmer. She was the best Oncologist in the hospital. Although the strain was showing in her eyes, she was hopeful. She had been battling cancer with this client from the moment she was diagnosed two months ago. The Wyatt's held her presence as a beacon of hope that their mother will get through the hellhole despite the rough treatments and feeble chances.
Mr. Wyatt kissed his wife's temples. Then he faced us.
"Dr. Cranmer, Dr. Aimes, Dr. Evans, thank you so much..."
We smiled. There were no words for us to convey.
"Hang on, Mr. Wyatt. Dorothy's strength comes from you. Don't let her lose it. If you excuse us..." Dr. Cranmer said to him.
"Her labs are coming good. Creatinine has hit 1.0" I reported.
"She's gonna relapse from this coma, Nov." Jam hypothesized.
"I'll pray for it. The probability of survival is high, I know. I've seen worst cases come out of it ok. But we all know there's no way of telling for sure." Novy said objectively.
"Doctor Cranmer." came a call behind us.
"Dr. Lee." Novy acknowledged the head of the surgical program: Dr. Viannese Lee."How's Mrs. Wyatt?" she addressed the three of us.
"Stable. We removed all metz. Dr. Aimes double checked the CT. She went to V-tach twice during the procedure but so far, her vital signs are holding up." Novy prompted.
"Its just the strain of the surgery and hypovolemia. Her former MVA hasn't caused problems yet. I'll get her on steroids after 24 hours." I added.
"I saw the scans myself. Looking good. In few days time, she could gain consciousness." Dr. Lee replied with infectious optimism.
"We will monitor her." Jam said.
We we're all hopeful. Mrs. Wyatt was one of our favorite patients on the floor. She was strong and somehow never run out of courage however rough the treatment regimen gets.
"Of course. Our patient is a fighter, and I expect you to be nothing less braver than she is." Dr. Lee said.
"Dr. Lee, Mr. Harrison is waiting for you at the board room." Dr. Phoebie Dare came in view.
"Thanks, Dr. Dare. I'll leave you to it, Doctors." She hurried to the elevator in a swish of robes.
Dr. Cranmer's pager beeped. "Gotta run along too. See you guys around." She was off.
"Everything okay, Pheobs?" I asked, cautiously.
"Never better. Don't look so suspicious, Jit. Give me the a break." Pheobie replied airily.
"Did the wind blow the wrong way today with you and Frank?" it was Jam's turn to interrogate.
"I met him outside the board room and he asked me to pass the message to Dr. Lee." She stared straight at Jam's face. "I'm perfectly capable of acting like a professional, Jam. Whatever me and Frank had is a thing of the past now. And I'm too damn good a dermatologist to let him mess with my work."
"About time. Its been three months since the split up, Pheobs. And I'm kinda tired of talking to you in the phone till 3 AM with you crying hysterically on the other end..." Jam told her bluntly.
"Gee, Jam. If i had known how you feel about me-" Phoebie started to reproach.
Jam cut through her, "Not what I meant. You should move on to acceptance, Pheobs. That's the healthy thing. And besides, I'm waiting on someone to take your drama queen title," I felt Jam's gaze on my face.
"Please, Jam..." I groaned.
"You are not dealing with your grief?" Phoebie took her turn to grill me.
"You," I pointed at Jam."...are a neurosurgeon. And you," I pointed at Pheobs."are a Dermatologist. So quit trying the psychiatry crap with me. I had the same units in college, I can see where this is going."
"Jit, you gotta crack up..." Jam started to say.
"Yeah, Jit. You don't have to soak up 20 rolls of tissues a week like me. You can eat Ferrero Rocher all day, yell at the newsboy, break your mom's yin dynasty china, or shove a trache tube down my Ex's throat."
"Phoebs," Jam chuckled. "In case you've got temporary amnesia, I'll remind you that Frank is the hospital director. Jitka will be fired before she can even unwrap the tube."
"Fine. Scratch that..But that's not my point. Jit, just do something. Don't bottle it up."
My phone rang. I saw the name on the screen. Like a reflex, I hit cancel.
"Hmm. Alex?" Jam mentioned my ex's name.
I gave her a confirmatory nod.
"Have you confronted him?" Jam asked.
I didn't answer.
"Typical of you to avoid confrontations. If it was me in your shoes, I'd probably be scheming diabolical plans of revenge, not hiding. from that arse like a criminal." Phoebs said indignantly.
"I'm not you, Phoebs. I dunno what to do. I'm still trying to think things over." I told them.
Jam approached the nearby vending machine. She bought three iced coffee in cans. "Here, this might help."
Phoebs took hers. "What's there to think about? He was cheating on you, and there ain't no way around it. You have to talk to him."
"She's right, Jit. You can't play hide and seek with Alex forever. He's bound to wonder why you haven't been answering his calls and seeing him." Jam agreed.
"I know. I'll figure this out soon, I promise." I said, admitting defeat.
Jam's beeper sounded.
"Its from the ER."
"I'm coming with you, I need a word with the new resident." Phoebs chimed.
"Me three. My clinic duty is due in 10 minutes." I said.
"Nurse Campbell, you got a patient for me?" Jam called on one of ER staff.
"Oh, its not about that Dr. Aimes. Its your sister."
Phoebie and I, standing a few feet from Jam, immediately rushed to her side.
"What about her?" Jam said sharply.
"She's in there with Doctor West." the nurse pointed at the one of the curtained beds. Jam crossed the distance in a heartbeat. she drew the curtains in haste.
"I told them there's no need to call you." I heard Jem groan.
"What happened?" Jam took her penlight and swiftly performed physical examination.
The intern, Doctor West obliged a quick briefing. "She was complaining of excruciating headaches, Dr. Aimes. I have scheduled her for neurochecks, and CT and MRI this afternoon."
"Thanks, Dr. West. I'll take it from here."
The intern walked past me.
"Will you cancel the tests he ordered? I don't need them." Jem declared.
"I won't. Maybe you do need them. These attacks are getting worst. You gotta stay until I've gone through your results." Jam said condescendingly.
"I've got an important lunch meeting, Jam."
"Then cancel it."
"No deal. He can only spare me an hour. He's flying back to China by 2 PM." Jem said, looking scandalized.
"Have it rescheduled. As your physician, I'm ordering you to stay confined."
"I'm fine, jam. All limbs intact. As my company's Vice-President for Operations, I gotta go. Right now." Jem insisted.
"As your older sister-"
"By 3 lousy minutes, remember?""Yeah. But doesn't change the fact that I am the older one. So suck it up."
"Won't do Jam. I really gotta get going."
"Uh, mind if I interrupt?" I spoke.
They both looked at me. "Why don't you try a compromise? Jem, no disrespect but you look terrible. Why don't you rest for a couple of minutes, then you can go to your meeting. Its still 10:20."
They both considered me.
"I'll agree if you promise to come straight back here soon as your meeting is over." Jam added.
Jem closed her eyes. She seemed to want the argument to be over. Massaging her temples, she replied. "Ok. Fine."
"Dr. Dare," a new intern I did not recognize beckoned Phoebs.
"Yes," she responded. She quickly winked at Jem. "Be back in a jiffy." She hurried away.
"You guys go. I'm not gonna keep you from your patients. I'll lie down for a while. Then I'll get going to Preston." Jem shooed us.
"Okay. I'll check on you before you do that, though." Jam told her.
"Jam, don't fuss. I swore I'll drop by here by afternoon, didn't I?" Nurse Campbell's head popped in curtains. "Dr. Aimes, you got a new admission."
"Coming." was Jam's reply. "Call me, later please."
"Yes, boss." Jem said dully.
When Jam was out of earshot, I laughed."How does it feel that she can control you like that when you have an empire to lord over outside?"
She grinned. "Weird. But you know she's not the bossy one,really. I hate to admit it but most of the time, I'm the manipulator."
I shook my head, then smiled. "She just doesn't know when to say no sometimes. That's why people take advantage of her."
"True."
"She's really worried about you, though. She's conferred to me that you are having these headaches more frequently than the usual. Got her concerned."
"Hmmm. Don't tell my sister but yeah. They're not worst, just more frequent I guess. Jam's explained that they're caused by stress. I'm a disciplined person; I eat, I jog in the morning. The only guilt I have is I don't sleep much. Jam's mentioned to you why, I reckon.." She gave me a meaningful look.
"That you're in the running for CEO at your company? Yeah, she did. Can't say I'm surprised." I said.
"I told her not to spill. Big mouth." she feigned sulking.
"Phoebs was wondering why you couldn't even join us for breakfast even on weekends." I elucidated.
"So much to do. I have to step up. Its a big leap for me, from the marketing to the administrative office. And they know I'm managing the hotel so my boss tells me I gotta prove that I can juggle all the work." Jem lamented.
"Wow. Dunno how you do it."
"Its cliche, I know but its just time management. I'm not saying its easy."
"Its written all over your face. You're dead on your feet. Tell you what, the ER isn't as comfortable as your own room. I'll get you one. What do you say?" I offered.
"Sounds great."
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Episode1-Part2
Parisian lights, flickering. My 18 year old self marveled at the world's most romantic city's picturesque view from my hotel room. But the spell was broken when I looked on the pavement below...A girl and a guy kissing...torridly. I wanted to scream at them, to tear them apart from each other. But the voice that resounded was not mine.
"Fire!"
I shot up from the bunk bed, my senses in red alert.
"Where?"
When I was finally able to focus, an unmistakable musical laughter got me confused.
"In your head! God, Jitka. You look fried. I thought you said your new crib is a dream house. Judging by the condition of you eye-bags, you could audition for the new vampire movie. Have you been sleeping at all?" Jam said.
"Tried. Unsuccessfully though. My housemates..." I couldn't find the right words to describe them.
"What did they do?"
I dunno where to start telling her.
To be fair, I slept for a few good hours on my first night even though my stuff were scattered all over the room. Just when I was drifting into the deepest annals of dreaming, I heard a horrendous booming sound so loud that I thought someone was blowing into my ears. I ejected from my bed, bolted out the door and searched for the source of the noise. Incidentally, I wasn’t the only one whose repose was disturbed.
"I swear to you, I'm gonna whack your door to oblivion if you don't stop hammering at your stupid drums!" a disheveled girl was yelling at a guy standing at his door frame.
"Its called music...I'm trying to finish a song,Cynth. Can't we wrap up this discussion for tomorrow?" the guy said. He himself looked so haggard.
"We'll I'm trying to sleep. And so is the rest of this house." the girl retorted.
"Yeah, Mike. I have a photoshoot tomorrow. I badly need sleep. Tone down the volume, will you?" Issa interjected. She then shut her door.
"I just came out to witness you fight, so don't mind me." Blessed yawned hugely and then he grinned.
"Listen, Mr. Gage! I have a musical tomorrow afternoon and my director will kill me if I don't hit those damn high notes. So, if I can't get a decent sleep tonight, I'm gonna come to your room and I'll murder you in your bed!" the girl Cynthia threatened.
"Or you can sleep with me if you want. My bed is big enough for both of us." the guy taunted.
"Right on, Mike!" Blessed commented..
"When hell freezes over! Now, if you have one single brain cell in that cracked skull of yours, you are gonna do as I say. I'm not asking, I'm telling." Cynthia then slammed her door with reverberating force.
"I think she likes me." Mike remarked.
"Dude, she whacked her door because of you." I couldn't help but state the obvious.
"Exactly. She spends so much energy on me. You know, the way she's always yelling at my face like that." Mike actually looked calculating.
"So passionate. I think she's dying to kiss you, Mike." Blessed egged on.
"If you say so..." I said.
"Hmm.. You're the new Lady in the house, right?"
"Yeah. Dr. Jitka Evans. I'm also your next door neighbor whose ears you're trying to destroy."
"Nice. I mean meeting you, not destroying your ears." he clarified. " I would wanna stay and chat but as I've said, I'm kinda busy. I promise I'll keep it on low decibels. Goodnight, fellas." And then Mike went back inside his room.
"I hope he tries really hard. I have surgery by 7 am."
"You can always doze off while you're pretending to hold a scalpel or suctioning blood, you know."
"Sure. If I wanna kill my patient."
Blessed shrugged his shoulder. Just then, Ember emerged from her room. She stretched her arms upward and gave out a huge yawn.
"Oh, we're you actually sleeping?" Blessed said to Ember, sounding sarcastic.
"Yeah. That was my longest snooze in 10 years. Record breaking 5 hours! Can you believe that?." she waved 5 fingers in one hand at blessed.
"You're an alien. You and the rest of the extraterrestrials in the kitchen are nutters." Blessed said, shaking his head.
"FYI Bless, we're in NYC, the city that doesn't sleep. So jump on the bandwagon, why don't you?" Ember retorted.
"In that case, I resent being a Newyorker.I'm Texan. And I'm gonna go back to my cozy bed. Ciao, girls." And on that note, he disappeared behind the door.
"Seems like Mike pulled you out of dreamland, too. Wanna ride my spaceship so we can traverse to another galaxy?" Ember turned to me.
"Huh?" She grabbed me by the hand.
"The kitchen transforms to a different dimension during the wee hours of the night. Hiya, Capt Kirk, Darth Vaders, Amidala and the rest of the army..." Ember announced when we reached the dinning hall.
"Hullow, obi-one.." June waved her hand, her eyes not leaving her laptop.
"C'mon kids, where are your manners? We've got a visitor.."
"Manners? What's that?" Rob quipped.
"Something your mom never taught you, Rob." June answered. "Anyways, welcome to the -allnighters- Jit."
"Thank you." I took my seat. "So, are you guys like a covert team for operation dessert storm part 2?"
Ember sat opposite me.
"Not exactly. But close enough." Rob relied. "We're trying to rebuild NASA's mainframe computer and reformat the hypertext transfer protocol."
"Speak English please." I begged Rob.
"HAHA! We're the nocturnal animals in this house. The hours of the day are not enough for our business so we extend 'em. Take for example June here. She's trying to remap the whole Manhattan, I think."
"Don't listen to rob. I'm just scribbling stick drawings. Feasibility study presentation's tomorrow so gotta hustle up." June explained, smiling and finally darting shortstop her gaze at me.
"Ole ala carte Caffeine...who wanna grab?" a guy declared. He had a tray full of steaming mugs of coffee.
Those left around the table except me raised his hand.
"Black's mine." Mel said with authority. The guy passed it on to him. The rest was picked up by each of them.
"Please Cliff, don't hand me Mel's again. I feel like my mouth was anesthetized with bitterness last time." Ember complained.
"I'm really sorry about that." Cliff apologized, grinning.
"You should. I had to rewrite my whole strategy for the Bradford case coz Ember spluttered my scratch paper with coffee and saliva mixture. I gave up 40 hours of sleep for it."
"Your extradition case? Thanks to you, my girlfriend finally uttered a swearword once in her life. She called you a goddamn spiteful shark for even defending Bradford in court." Cyrus said.
"Something finally made your Mother Theresa girlfriend tic? That's one point for my JERK moments score. Go tell Rhea. She keeps tab of it." Mel suggested.
"Their department was extremely disappointed. They were hoping to finally nail that bastard. The numbers of his nuclear power plant leak related diseases is steadily climbing. Even the Malaysian government is helping to win the case." Cyrus explained.
Mel's smile was thin. "You can tell Alvey I never really liked Bradford. He was an ass. But I'm his lawyer. I just did my thing." Mel closed the discussion.
"So you don't care how many people suffer from radiation cancer, mutation and God knows how many other toxins as long as you win a highly publicized case to prove your caliber as a lawyer?" I challenged Mel. There was an uncomfortable silence hovering over the crowd.
Mel drank his coffee empty before he turned to me. "That's exactly why women barely survive the court. They wear their emotions on their heads like a hat and place logic inside their Gucci bags. If you can win me over through reason and not through cries of miseries, then I'll listen to you." He rose from his chair. "I gotta go fetch my book. Be back." He walked away.
"Did he just say we women didn't have logic?" Ember cried in disbelief.
"No. He said you women keep them in designer bags." Cy clarified.
"I don't wanna mince with words this time. What's that suppose to mean?" Ember said testily.
"He just means he's doing his job." Cliff saved Cyrus from answering.
"Yeah. And he doesn't care what stands on his way. I knew Mel's always been a self-important bastard but I never gave it a moment's thought that he'll take the Bradford case. Its evil. Even for him." June commented.
"Well then, he just proved you wrong. He's evil enough for it. Tsk." Ember said.
"That Malaysian province will be inflicted with illnesses that will be too advanced for science to contain. Its gonna be a rough ride for the victims. All forms of cancer will be cropping up everywhere. It'll be a biological crisis." I stated.
"Its a medical issue to you. Its a legal issue for Mel. We will deal problems according to our profession. That's why I'm not judging him." It was Cyrus. The matter-of-fact tone unnerved me.
"Last time I heard, we will tackle problems according to our morals." I rebutted.
"Won't work for the whole universe. Some people don't have that." Cliff interjected.
"I know that. And some of them are residents in this house." Ember said.
"Oh, C'mon girls, grow up. The world is not split into good girls and bad guys." Rob said, rolling his eyes.
"Really? I have no idea." June shot back.
"So, do you wanna continue this prehistoric battle or are you ready to discuss the McKinley Heights Proposal? Or Me and Cliff should wait forever until you get off your high horse of morality?" Cyrus turned to June.
The girl sighed. She then picked up her laptop and rottring. They settled in the other end of the 14-seater dinning table. "Let's roll.."
"Late night convention for them? June doesn't look happy working with those guys." I commented.
"Nah. Cyrus is an Engineer by profession, but he works as a real estate developer. Cliff, on the other hand, is an executive in the same company. They've got this huge project that got them together as a team. A property in Delaware, I heard. June and Cyrus are gonna reconstruct the site, or whatever they call it, to make it available for market. That's where Cliff comes in. He contacts buyers, you know, try to sell the goods.." Ember filled me in.
"Hmmm... Big stuff, then." I said.
"Yep. They work their ass off. Its not their first project nor their last." Ember remarked.
Just then, Issa came in, with a comforter wrapped around her. She looked harassed.
"Where are you going?" Ember asked her.
"Camping out in my car." She brandished her keys at us. "Mike is going way overboard. My walls are screaming with his drumming." she complained.
"Tell him to stop." Ember advised.
"No chance. He told me he's got a deadline tomorrow. He's supposed to record that song first thing in the morning. You know how he gets when he's in the mood." Rob interjected.
"Yeah, I do. I've been his housemate for 2 years and I know perfectly well, all right. I think I'm deaf already, thanks to Mike, so trust me, I know. Anyways, I don't have to yell at him anymore. Cynthia got there first. And I don't have the energy for pointless arguments. I'll just crash in my car, for now..Tomorrow, when photoshoot's over, I'll think of ways to cut off his windpipe..." she muttered darkly. Issa traversed towards the backdoor, and was gone.
Next to show up was Cynthia, storming. Her face was puffed, contorted with rage. She had her car keys with her. Not one of us bothered to ask. Her heavy footsteps and loud banging of the door shut told the tale.
"So Mike is a composer?" I inquired Ember.
"Yep. He's the plays drums, guitar and keyboard. He's with the Holocaust band."
"Really? Alternative music, if I'm not mistaken?"
"Real mystery,huh? Even I don't get it. He creates earthquakes every time he's composing and when the songs come out in the mainstream, they sound soothing." Ember thought out loud.
"Tsk. Yeah. They're pretty famous, right? My brother's a fan of theirs. Why is he here? Aren't they supposed to be on tour?" I pried on.
"Mike said he stayed to finish their next album." Ember replied.
"Note to myself: A rockstar in the house means shorter sleeping hours." I said in monotone.
"Only when he's composing. So don't worry much. When he's not writing songs, he's more like Bless." Ember appeased.
"That's a real comfort, then." I said.
But I wasn't comforted, if I have to be honest.
"So the guys are getting to you?" Jam clarified.
"Yes." I admitted.
"Are you dreaming about that summer in Paris again?" I heard Jam throw the question.
"Where did that came from? I was talking about my housemates." I told her.
"You were talking about your male housemates..."
"And your point is?" I asked, attempting to drive where she was getting at.
“You don’t hate your hour housemates and its not that you don’t like them either. It’s just your manhater syndrome kicking in. Remember your tendency to stereotype? Especially when a guy is arrogant or exudes an air of superiority. THAT is what you loathe." Jam analyzed.
"Hey, you're not my shrink." I told her.
"I'm your bestfriend. I know better than Dr. Gerald Durham when it comes to you,"
"Well then, I'll stop seeing him. God knows I can do well if I can save the hundred bucks I pay my shrink for my OCD and other psychiatric problems." I suggested.
"He's doing good with you. I'm just helping out. Take your meds. Attend your scheduled sessions. And I'm not giving up being a Neurosurgeon for anything, as you know well." Jam said. "Speaking of, I need you to scrub up right now. We need to be in the OR in exactly.." she read her watch. " 20 minutes..."
"How many metz in the last count?"
"Fair few. Its gonna be a tough day, I need you to keep her alive, whatever it takes while I'm evacuating the cancer cells. Dr. Novy Cranmer will be assisting, of course. We gotta meet up with the family. Things to discuss.." she briefed me. "You sure you're up for this?" she ensured when she saw me stifle a yawn.
I squared my shoulders. "Bring it on."
"Fire!"
I shot up from the bunk bed, my senses in red alert.
"Where?"
When I was finally able to focus, an unmistakable musical laughter got me confused.
"In your head! God, Jitka. You look fried. I thought you said your new crib is a dream house. Judging by the condition of you eye-bags, you could audition for the new vampire movie. Have you been sleeping at all?" Jam said.
"Tried. Unsuccessfully though. My housemates..." I couldn't find the right words to describe them.
"What did they do?"
I dunno where to start telling her.
To be fair, I slept for a few good hours on my first night even though my stuff were scattered all over the room. Just when I was drifting into the deepest annals of dreaming, I heard a horrendous booming sound so loud that I thought someone was blowing into my ears. I ejected from my bed, bolted out the door and searched for the source of the noise. Incidentally, I wasn’t the only one whose repose was disturbed.
"I swear to you, I'm gonna whack your door to oblivion if you don't stop hammering at your stupid drums!" a disheveled girl was yelling at a guy standing at his door frame.
"Its called music...I'm trying to finish a song,Cynth. Can't we wrap up this discussion for tomorrow?" the guy said. He himself looked so haggard.
"We'll I'm trying to sleep. And so is the rest of this house." the girl retorted.
"Yeah, Mike. I have a photoshoot tomorrow. I badly need sleep. Tone down the volume, will you?" Issa interjected. She then shut her door.
"I just came out to witness you fight, so don't mind me." Blessed yawned hugely and then he grinned.
"Listen, Mr. Gage! I have a musical tomorrow afternoon and my director will kill me if I don't hit those damn high notes. So, if I can't get a decent sleep tonight, I'm gonna come to your room and I'll murder you in your bed!" the girl Cynthia threatened.
"Or you can sleep with me if you want. My bed is big enough for both of us." the guy taunted.
"Right on, Mike!" Blessed commented..
"When hell freezes over! Now, if you have one single brain cell in that cracked skull of yours, you are gonna do as I say. I'm not asking, I'm telling." Cynthia then slammed her door with reverberating force.
"I think she likes me." Mike remarked.
"Dude, she whacked her door because of you." I couldn't help but state the obvious.
"Exactly. She spends so much energy on me. You know, the way she's always yelling at my face like that." Mike actually looked calculating.
"So passionate. I think she's dying to kiss you, Mike." Blessed egged on.
"If you say so..." I said.
"Hmm.. You're the new Lady in the house, right?"
"Yeah. Dr. Jitka Evans. I'm also your next door neighbor whose ears you're trying to destroy."
"Nice. I mean meeting you, not destroying your ears." he clarified. " I would wanna stay and chat but as I've said, I'm kinda busy. I promise I'll keep it on low decibels. Goodnight, fellas." And then Mike went back inside his room.
"I hope he tries really hard. I have surgery by 7 am."
"You can always doze off while you're pretending to hold a scalpel or suctioning blood, you know."
"Sure. If I wanna kill my patient."
Blessed shrugged his shoulder. Just then, Ember emerged from her room. She stretched her arms upward and gave out a huge yawn.
"Oh, we're you actually sleeping?" Blessed said to Ember, sounding sarcastic.
"Yeah. That was my longest snooze in 10 years. Record breaking 5 hours! Can you believe that?." she waved 5 fingers in one hand at blessed.
"You're an alien. You and the rest of the extraterrestrials in the kitchen are nutters." Blessed said, shaking his head.
"FYI Bless, we're in NYC, the city that doesn't sleep. So jump on the bandwagon, why don't you?" Ember retorted.
"In that case, I resent being a Newyorker.I'm Texan. And I'm gonna go back to my cozy bed. Ciao, girls." And on that note, he disappeared behind the door.
"Seems like Mike pulled you out of dreamland, too. Wanna ride my spaceship so we can traverse to another galaxy?" Ember turned to me.
"Huh?" She grabbed me by the hand.
"The kitchen transforms to a different dimension during the wee hours of the night. Hiya, Capt Kirk, Darth Vaders, Amidala and the rest of the army..." Ember announced when we reached the dinning hall.
"Hullow, obi-one.." June waved her hand, her eyes not leaving her laptop.
"C'mon kids, where are your manners? We've got a visitor.."
"Manners? What's that?" Rob quipped.
"Something your mom never taught you, Rob." June answered. "Anyways, welcome to the -allnighters- Jit."
"Thank you." I took my seat. "So, are you guys like a covert team for operation dessert storm part 2?"
Ember sat opposite me.
"Not exactly. But close enough." Rob relied. "We're trying to rebuild NASA's mainframe computer and reformat the hypertext transfer protocol."
"Speak English please." I begged Rob.
"HAHA! We're the nocturnal animals in this house. The hours of the day are not enough for our business so we extend 'em. Take for example June here. She's trying to remap the whole Manhattan, I think."
"Don't listen to rob. I'm just scribbling stick drawings. Feasibility study presentation's tomorrow so gotta hustle up." June explained, smiling and finally darting shortstop her gaze at me.
"Ole ala carte Caffeine...who wanna grab?" a guy declared. He had a tray full of steaming mugs of coffee.
Those left around the table except me raised his hand.
"Black's mine." Mel said with authority. The guy passed it on to him. The rest was picked up by each of them.
"Please Cliff, don't hand me Mel's again. I feel like my mouth was anesthetized with bitterness last time." Ember complained.
"I'm really sorry about that." Cliff apologized, grinning.
"You should. I had to rewrite my whole strategy for the Bradford case coz Ember spluttered my scratch paper with coffee and saliva mixture. I gave up 40 hours of sleep for it."
"Your extradition case? Thanks to you, my girlfriend finally uttered a swearword once in her life. She called you a goddamn spiteful shark for even defending Bradford in court." Cyrus said.
"Something finally made your Mother Theresa girlfriend tic? That's one point for my JERK moments score. Go tell Rhea. She keeps tab of it." Mel suggested.
"Their department was extremely disappointed. They were hoping to finally nail that bastard. The numbers of his nuclear power plant leak related diseases is steadily climbing. Even the Malaysian government is helping to win the case." Cyrus explained.
Mel's smile was thin. "You can tell Alvey I never really liked Bradford. He was an ass. But I'm his lawyer. I just did my thing." Mel closed the discussion.
"So you don't care how many people suffer from radiation cancer, mutation and God knows how many other toxins as long as you win a highly publicized case to prove your caliber as a lawyer?" I challenged Mel. There was an uncomfortable silence hovering over the crowd.
Mel drank his coffee empty before he turned to me. "That's exactly why women barely survive the court. They wear their emotions on their heads like a hat and place logic inside their Gucci bags. If you can win me over through reason and not through cries of miseries, then I'll listen to you." He rose from his chair. "I gotta go fetch my book. Be back." He walked away.
"Did he just say we women didn't have logic?" Ember cried in disbelief.
"No. He said you women keep them in designer bags." Cy clarified.
"I don't wanna mince with words this time. What's that suppose to mean?" Ember said testily.
"He just means he's doing his job." Cliff saved Cyrus from answering.
"Yeah. And he doesn't care what stands on his way. I knew Mel's always been a self-important bastard but I never gave it a moment's thought that he'll take the Bradford case. Its evil. Even for him." June commented.
"Well then, he just proved you wrong. He's evil enough for it. Tsk." Ember said.
"That Malaysian province will be inflicted with illnesses that will be too advanced for science to contain. Its gonna be a rough ride for the victims. All forms of cancer will be cropping up everywhere. It'll be a biological crisis." I stated.
"Its a medical issue to you. Its a legal issue for Mel. We will deal problems according to our profession. That's why I'm not judging him." It was Cyrus. The matter-of-fact tone unnerved me.
"Last time I heard, we will tackle problems according to our morals." I rebutted.
"Won't work for the whole universe. Some people don't have that." Cliff interjected.
"I know that. And some of them are residents in this house." Ember said.
"Oh, C'mon girls, grow up. The world is not split into good girls and bad guys." Rob said, rolling his eyes.
"Really? I have no idea." June shot back.
"So, do you wanna continue this prehistoric battle or are you ready to discuss the McKinley Heights Proposal? Or Me and Cliff should wait forever until you get off your high horse of morality?" Cyrus turned to June.
The girl sighed. She then picked up her laptop and rottring. They settled in the other end of the 14-seater dinning table. "Let's roll.."
"Late night convention for them? June doesn't look happy working with those guys." I commented.
"Nah. Cyrus is an Engineer by profession, but he works as a real estate developer. Cliff, on the other hand, is an executive in the same company. They've got this huge project that got them together as a team. A property in Delaware, I heard. June and Cyrus are gonna reconstruct the site, or whatever they call it, to make it available for market. That's where Cliff comes in. He contacts buyers, you know, try to sell the goods.." Ember filled me in.
"Hmmm... Big stuff, then." I said.
"Yep. They work their ass off. Its not their first project nor their last." Ember remarked.
Just then, Issa came in, with a comforter wrapped around her. She looked harassed.
"Where are you going?" Ember asked her.
"Camping out in my car." She brandished her keys at us. "Mike is going way overboard. My walls are screaming with his drumming." she complained.
"Tell him to stop." Ember advised.
"No chance. He told me he's got a deadline tomorrow. He's supposed to record that song first thing in the morning. You know how he gets when he's in the mood." Rob interjected.
"Yeah, I do. I've been his housemate for 2 years and I know perfectly well, all right. I think I'm deaf already, thanks to Mike, so trust me, I know. Anyways, I don't have to yell at him anymore. Cynthia got there first. And I don't have the energy for pointless arguments. I'll just crash in my car, for now..Tomorrow, when photoshoot's over, I'll think of ways to cut off his windpipe..." she muttered darkly. Issa traversed towards the backdoor, and was gone.
Next to show up was Cynthia, storming. Her face was puffed, contorted with rage. She had her car keys with her. Not one of us bothered to ask. Her heavy footsteps and loud banging of the door shut told the tale.
"So Mike is a composer?" I inquired Ember.
"Yep. He's the plays drums, guitar and keyboard. He's with the Holocaust band."
"Really? Alternative music, if I'm not mistaken?"
"Real mystery,huh? Even I don't get it. He creates earthquakes every time he's composing and when the songs come out in the mainstream, they sound soothing." Ember thought out loud.
"Tsk. Yeah. They're pretty famous, right? My brother's a fan of theirs. Why is he here? Aren't they supposed to be on tour?" I pried on.
"Mike said he stayed to finish their next album." Ember replied.
"Note to myself: A rockstar in the house means shorter sleeping hours." I said in monotone.
"Only when he's composing. So don't worry much. When he's not writing songs, he's more like Bless." Ember appeased.
"That's a real comfort, then." I said.
But I wasn't comforted, if I have to be honest.
"So the guys are getting to you?" Jam clarified.
"Yes." I admitted.
"Are you dreaming about that summer in Paris again?" I heard Jam throw the question.
"Where did that came from? I was talking about my housemates." I told her.
"You were talking about your male housemates..."
"And your point is?" I asked, attempting to drive where she was getting at.
“You don’t hate your hour housemates and its not that you don’t like them either. It’s just your manhater syndrome kicking in. Remember your tendency to stereotype? Especially when a guy is arrogant or exudes an air of superiority. THAT is what you loathe." Jam analyzed.
"Hey, you're not my shrink." I told her.
"I'm your bestfriend. I know better than Dr. Gerald Durham when it comes to you,"
"Well then, I'll stop seeing him. God knows I can do well if I can save the hundred bucks I pay my shrink for my OCD and other psychiatric problems." I suggested.
"He's doing good with you. I'm just helping out. Take your meds. Attend your scheduled sessions. And I'm not giving up being a Neurosurgeon for anything, as you know well." Jam said. "Speaking of, I need you to scrub up right now. We need to be in the OR in exactly.." she read her watch. " 20 minutes..."
"How many metz in the last count?"
"Fair few. Its gonna be a tough day, I need you to keep her alive, whatever it takes while I'm evacuating the cancer cells. Dr. Novy Cranmer will be assisting, of course. We gotta meet up with the family. Things to discuss.." she briefed me. "You sure you're up for this?" she ensured when she saw me stifle a yawn.
I squared my shoulders. "Bring it on."
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Episode 1- Part 1 (Jitka's Rendezvous)
I dunno when was the last time I ran as fast as now. All i know is that I can't wait to get out of this place. His place. That lousy bastard 2-timer!Urgh! As I was treading along these thoughts, I kicked a trash bin. Didn't take long before a pit bull growled nearby. Fight or Flight? It took me one look at its angry, fat, ugly face. Seconds later, I sprinted as hurriedly as my feet could carry.
Soon as I made sure I was out of the danger zone, I stopped running to catch my breath. Then, I fished out my phone to call up speed dial 1. "Jam, he did it again."
_____________________________________Chatting with my BFF helped get off the venom in my chest, and so did randomly riding a public utility bus going GOD-knows-where. But when I got off the bus, I found myself still hurt, literally and figuratively lost. Yet, I felt lighter. I saw sense. But it wasn't the only thing sighted as I was wandering along an unknown street in upstate New York. There was a leaflet.
"WANTED: BOARDER. with IQ not less than 120."
Like a reflex, an impish smile fell upon my lips. I couldn't help but appreciate the humor of the person who wrote the sign.
I read the address indicated beneath the huge letters.
"33 West 56th Street, Midtown, Manhattan. Hmmm... Let's see."
_____________________________________
Wow. That was the first word that escaped my mouth when I saw the place. It was like a condo, but sort of a compound. It had a modern, minimalistic look that suited me just fine. When I realized that Harlem Hospital Center (my workplace) was just around the corner, I knew THIS was the place for me.
So I knocked, door opens.
"Hi, I'm Dr. Jikta Evans. I'm here for this-" I greeted the surly looking tall lady, brandishing the leaflet.
"IQ?" she replied mechanically.
"132."
The expression on her face changed dramatically. She was.....laughing.
"Sorry, I love it when someone falls for that prank. I'm Issa. Come inside, so you can meet the whole gang." she said beckoning me forwards.Issa led me to the humongous sitting room.
"So, you were bluffing about the whole IQ requirement?" I asked.
"Uh, yeah. I mean, who would want a housemate who can't see through that kind of humor? WE sure can't."
I smiled at her. "You don't necessarily admit scientists, you just don't want idiots.""Right off the bat, Jitka. Wait, I gotta round up the others. They love this part of finding housemates, interrogation. I mean, interview" Without warning, Issa pushed a button on the wall and called through a speakerphone:"C'mon out fellas! We've got a suspect to fry!"
"Uh, so you guys are gonna interview me, like.. right now?"
"Yeah, why not? Good for you, its Sunday today so we're almost complete in attendance."
"Complete in attendance, so how many of you are residing here?"
"Well, 11. You could be the last addition and then its a full house!"
"ELEVEN?" I tried to hide the surprise in my voice.
"Uhuh. Lots of people. Its riot in here. But the place is big. Sometimes, we don't eve get to see each other everyday. South wing, North wing. That kind of stuff. And our schedules don't match..."
I heard the clattering of footfalls and cacophony of voices coming our way.
"Another chick?" A guy blurted soon as he laid eyes on me. He didn't sound disappointed nor exhilarated. He trudged behind me, leaning against the wall. He was sipping his coffee, his towel hanging on his naked shoulder. It wasn't only his shoulder, but his whole torso was stark bare. Flaunting his abs.
The rest filed all over the room.
"Yeah, Mel. Evens the male-female ratio. Perfect, right? Well everyone, this is Jitka. She's a Doctor."
"Specialty?" someone threw a question in a business-like tone.
"Cardiology."
"Hearts.Hmm. Can you fix mine?" He asked again.
"Only if its pathologically inflicted."
"I hate it when hospital people use their medical jargon.""He's rob. IT specialist." Issa quipped.
"Score's even. I'm low tech. I speak no computer lingo." I admitted.
"Fair enough," he said approvingly.
"No derogatory criminal records?" another interrogator asked.
The question was so blunt I blinked before answering. "Clean as a bond sheet."
"How many speed tickets this year?" Mel pressed on.
"Four."
"DUI?"
"None. I'm not alcoholic, narcotic nor a psychopath."
He shrugged, seemingly unsatisfied."I'll check police records." He exited.
"Mel Darrell Grant. He's a Lawyer." Issa added.
"So that explains the questions," was all I said.
"He's got another important occupation aside from being a brilliant prosecutor, too." A female said.
"What is that?"
"He's a full time jerk, as well. So don't sweat on it." she supplied.
"I won't." I smiled.
"This is Rhea Lanchester. Our fancy lady Pilot." Issa bragged.
"Iz, drop the lady adjective. Pilots are pilots. Take it as it is." Rhea said.
"Are we gonna start battling over the supremacy of the male over the female specie again?" a man mocked.
The females seem to have formed a coalition, they all looked daggers at the guy.
"Cyrus Larks. Before they recruit you to their amazonian sorority, I'm gonna go. Coz we're outnumbered here, so..." he pointed out and traversed that way.
"For that, I'm gonna root for you, before another Adam shows up and we will be the ones outnumbered," a gal swore. "Ember. Columnist."
"Ow."
"She writes for New York Times." Issa added.
"Ember? Are you Gracette Ember Prince?" I exclaimed.
"Yeah. Want some autograph? I've got a pen here somewhere," she humored, pretending to rummage through her pockets.
"Wow, really? I read your column every weekends before I go out to buy some book or see a movie." I said earnestly.
Ember seems to have realized I wasn't fooling with her, she blushed. She beamed at me. "I'm not the celebrity here though."
"Really? Who?"
"The one sitting beside you." A female answered.
I turned to Issa.
"She's kidding." Issa declared.
"Don't you recognize her? C'mon, Jitka." Ember challenged.
I surveyed Issa instantly... Then it hit me. "Oh, you're the girl on that Revlon billboard in downtown Manhattan! Gosh, I am so dense."
"No, its my doppelganger. And for the record, I hate that picture. The contacts were so gray, I'm scared of my own face." Issa replied.
"Small price for fame." someone retorted.
"Speaking for yourself, June?" Issa, shot back." Rhea, tell me who's the youngest architect to build a multi-billion dollar skyscraper in NYC?"
"Ring the alarms and grab the red carpet....Please welcome, Ms. June Torrence." Rhea announced theatrically.
"Hey, stop embarrassing yourself, Rhey..." June said. Her phone rang. "Oops. Boss. Gotta go."
"Yeah, go ahead. If its another project, I'm so gonna kill you if you don't throw a party." Ember threatened.
June chuckled before disappearing.
"Where are the others?" Rhea sounded.
"In their cells. Well, Cynthia, Miike, Mel, Bless-"
"Let me guess, SNOOZING?" Issa cut off Ember's ranting.
"No surprise. He's like a hibernating armadillo. Cliff's in San Francisco." Ember continued.
"Didn't see him leave." Rob stated.
"He left early this morning. Emergency business trip." Ember answered.
"So, Jit. Can I call you Jit?" Issa asked.
"Sure."
"Want a tour?
"Can't wait."
Issa lead the way, with me, Ember and Rhea following on her wake. The boys disappeared after Blessed quipped about watching a Lakers Versus Bulls game.
"Sorry, Jit. Only 1 vacancy. East Wing." Issa and the others continued to chat while I half listened to their conversation. My eyes scanned the interiors. The ceiling was high, the glass sleek, the ambiance cozy.Issa recaptured my whole attention when she opened the last door to the right.
"Well, here it goes.."
I surveyed the room, drinking in the beauty of the space. I knew their eyes were all on me. But i couldn't care less. If there was love at first sight, it was what happened to me and this room.
"What do you say?" Ember asked.
"When can i move in?" I turned back to the crowd behind me.
Soon as I made sure I was out of the danger zone, I stopped running to catch my breath. Then, I fished out my phone to call up speed dial 1. "Jam, he did it again."
_____________________________________Chatting with my BFF helped get off the venom in my chest, and so did randomly riding a public utility bus going GOD-knows-where. But when I got off the bus, I found myself still hurt, literally and figuratively lost. Yet, I felt lighter. I saw sense. But it wasn't the only thing sighted as I was wandering along an unknown street in upstate New York. There was a leaflet.
"WANTED: BOARDER. with IQ not less than 120."
Like a reflex, an impish smile fell upon my lips. I couldn't help but appreciate the humor of the person who wrote the sign.
I read the address indicated beneath the huge letters.
"33 West 56th Street, Midtown, Manhattan. Hmmm... Let's see."
_____________________________________
Wow. That was the first word that escaped my mouth when I saw the place. It was like a condo, but sort of a compound. It had a modern, minimalistic look that suited me just fine. When I realized that Harlem Hospital Center (my workplace) was just around the corner, I knew THIS was the place for me.
So I knocked, door opens.
"Hi, I'm Dr. Jikta Evans. I'm here for this-" I greeted the surly looking tall lady, brandishing the leaflet.
"IQ?" she replied mechanically.
"132."
The expression on her face changed dramatically. She was.....laughing.
"Sorry, I love it when someone falls for that prank. I'm Issa. Come inside, so you can meet the whole gang." she said beckoning me forwards.Issa led me to the humongous sitting room.
"So, you were bluffing about the whole IQ requirement?" I asked.
"Uh, yeah. I mean, who would want a housemate who can't see through that kind of humor? WE sure can't."
I smiled at her. "You don't necessarily admit scientists, you just don't want idiots.""Right off the bat, Jitka. Wait, I gotta round up the others. They love this part of finding housemates, interrogation. I mean, interview" Without warning, Issa pushed a button on the wall and called through a speakerphone:"C'mon out fellas! We've got a suspect to fry!"
"Uh, so you guys are gonna interview me, like.. right now?"
"Yeah, why not? Good for you, its Sunday today so we're almost complete in attendance."
"Complete in attendance, so how many of you are residing here?"
"Well, 11. You could be the last addition and then its a full house!"
"ELEVEN?" I tried to hide the surprise in my voice.
"Uhuh. Lots of people. Its riot in here. But the place is big. Sometimes, we don't eve get to see each other everyday. South wing, North wing. That kind of stuff. And our schedules don't match..."
I heard the clattering of footfalls and cacophony of voices coming our way.
"Another chick?" A guy blurted soon as he laid eyes on me. He didn't sound disappointed nor exhilarated. He trudged behind me, leaning against the wall. He was sipping his coffee, his towel hanging on his naked shoulder. It wasn't only his shoulder, but his whole torso was stark bare. Flaunting his abs.
The rest filed all over the room.
"Yeah, Mel. Evens the male-female ratio. Perfect, right? Well everyone, this is Jitka. She's a Doctor."
"Specialty?" someone threw a question in a business-like tone.
"Cardiology."
"Hearts.Hmm. Can you fix mine?" He asked again.
"Only if its pathologically inflicted."
"I hate it when hospital people use their medical jargon.""He's rob. IT specialist." Issa quipped.
"Score's even. I'm low tech. I speak no computer lingo." I admitted.
"Fair enough," he said approvingly.
"No derogatory criminal records?" another interrogator asked.
The question was so blunt I blinked before answering. "Clean as a bond sheet."
"How many speed tickets this year?" Mel pressed on.
"Four."
"DUI?"
"None. I'm not alcoholic, narcotic nor a psychopath."
He shrugged, seemingly unsatisfied."I'll check police records." He exited.
"Mel Darrell Grant. He's a Lawyer." Issa added.
"So that explains the questions," was all I said.
"He's got another important occupation aside from being a brilliant prosecutor, too." A female said.
"What is that?"
"He's a full time jerk, as well. So don't sweat on it." she supplied.
"I won't." I smiled.
"This is Rhea Lanchester. Our fancy lady Pilot." Issa bragged.
"Iz, drop the lady adjective. Pilots are pilots. Take it as it is." Rhea said.
"Are we gonna start battling over the supremacy of the male over the female specie again?" a man mocked.
The females seem to have formed a coalition, they all looked daggers at the guy.
"Cyrus Larks. Before they recruit you to their amazonian sorority, I'm gonna go. Coz we're outnumbered here, so..." he pointed out and traversed that way.
"For that, I'm gonna root for you, before another Adam shows up and we will be the ones outnumbered," a gal swore. "Ember. Columnist."
"Ow."
"She writes for New York Times." Issa added.
"Ember? Are you Gracette Ember Prince?" I exclaimed.
"Yeah. Want some autograph? I've got a pen here somewhere," she humored, pretending to rummage through her pockets.
"Wow, really? I read your column every weekends before I go out to buy some book or see a movie." I said earnestly.
Ember seems to have realized I wasn't fooling with her, she blushed. She beamed at me. "I'm not the celebrity here though."
"Really? Who?"
"The one sitting beside you." A female answered.
I turned to Issa.
"She's kidding." Issa declared.
"Don't you recognize her? C'mon, Jitka." Ember challenged.
I surveyed Issa instantly... Then it hit me. "Oh, you're the girl on that Revlon billboard in downtown Manhattan! Gosh, I am so dense."
"No, its my doppelganger. And for the record, I hate that picture. The contacts were so gray, I'm scared of my own face." Issa replied.
"Small price for fame." someone retorted.
"Speaking for yourself, June?" Issa, shot back." Rhea, tell me who's the youngest architect to build a multi-billion dollar skyscraper in NYC?"
"Ring the alarms and grab the red carpet....Please welcome, Ms. June Torrence." Rhea announced theatrically.
"Hey, stop embarrassing yourself, Rhey..." June said. Her phone rang. "Oops. Boss. Gotta go."
"Yeah, go ahead. If its another project, I'm so gonna kill you if you don't throw a party." Ember threatened.
June chuckled before disappearing.
"Where are the others?" Rhea sounded.
"In their cells. Well, Cynthia, Miike, Mel, Bless-"
"Let me guess, SNOOZING?" Issa cut off Ember's ranting.
"No surprise. He's like a hibernating armadillo. Cliff's in San Francisco." Ember continued.
"Didn't see him leave." Rob stated.
"He left early this morning. Emergency business trip." Ember answered.
"So, Jit. Can I call you Jit?" Issa asked.
"Sure."
"Want a tour?
"Can't wait."
Issa lead the way, with me, Ember and Rhea following on her wake. The boys disappeared after Blessed quipped about watching a Lakers Versus Bulls game.
"Sorry, Jit. Only 1 vacancy. East Wing." Issa and the others continued to chat while I half listened to their conversation. My eyes scanned the interiors. The ceiling was high, the glass sleek, the ambiance cozy.Issa recaptured my whole attention when she opened the last door to the right.
"Well, here it goes.."
I surveyed the room, drinking in the beauty of the space. I knew their eyes were all on me. But i couldn't care less. If there was love at first sight, it was what happened to me and this room.
"What do you say?" Ember asked.
"When can i move in?" I turned back to the crowd behind me.
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