And it’s been so long, that I can’t explain
And it’s been so wrong….
He was in the middle of the first half of his double shift, having worked on several minor traumas and two major one during the day. One of them, - a middle aged man, they lost. He hasn’t seen his family; it was Elizabeth who talked to them. Now, it seemed there was a break and he went to the Doctor’s Lounge for a coffee. He poured freshly brewed coffee in a cup and sat down at the table rubbing his right tight with his hand. Today was one those days when his bad leg reminded him of the times when he hardly hoped to walk again.
Just as he swallowed some hot coffee, Chuny opened the door.
- Dr Kovac? The paramedics are coming in. Multiple traumas – a bus versus taxi.
He left the mug on the table, got up, frowning as he had to put his weight on his bad leg, and hurried after Chuny to the ambulance bay. Elizabeth and Kerry were already there, watching two, three, four ambulances coming to a halt in the bay. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to brush away the tiredness. The organized chaos of the paramedics arriving always worked like a cold shower on him.
He lost track of time as the paramedics kept on bringing in more passengers of the unfortunate bus. It was past midnight when they wheeled the last one upstairs for operation. Kerry looked at him, with an exhausted half smile on her face.
- Eleven out of twelve. We’ve done good job, Luka.
He nodded, feeling too tired to speak. But with the taxi driver dead, it made two losses for the day. And did Elizabeth say something about an old woman whose heart stopped in the ambulance, seconds before they brought her in? It didn’t look like a good day. Yet, Kerry was right, with the bus they’ve done well.
- Let’s hope the rest of the night will be quieter, - Kerry said pulling off the blood stained gown.
Too bad she wasn’t staying for the night. Luka didn’t feel strong enough to deal with anything like that again. Besides, he thought, in one more hour of standing and walking he would need a crutch just like her.
He was heading for Doctor’s Lounge to have another try on coffee, concentrating hard on not letting his limp show, when a strange sound attracted his attention. He came up to the admit desk where Malucci was discussing a computer game with Frank.
- Whose patient is that?
- Who? – asked Frank.
- What patient? – added Malucci, with a completely puzzled look on his face.
They might not have heard it as they had radio on.
- The child, who’s crying.
Frank and Malucci exchanged glances and then looked back at him.
- There’s no one crying, Doc.
He was beginning getting angry.
- Do you suppose I’m hearing voices?! Switch that damn thing off and listen!
Malucci turned the radio off, and the same second there it was – a quiet sobbing noise coming from somewhere in the corner. Malucci raised his brows.
- Weird. I’ll go and check, Doc.
Luka went too. He couldn’t detect exactly where the sound was coming from, but as he walked along the hallway listening intensely the sound seemed to be getting closer. Yet it was Malucci who found her.
- Hey, look at this!
She sat on the floor, in the Nurses Station, with her legs bent so that she hid her face in her knees: - a girl of four or five, in a bright yellow pullover and a denim skirt.
- Hi there, - said Dave, crouching beside her, - Hey, young lady.
He put his hand on her shoulder but she didn’t seem to notice him at all. Dave raised his face to look at Luka as if asking for instructions.
- Give her to me.
Malucci gently took the girl in his arms and passed her to Luka. There was hardly any weight in her. Luka had expected her to struggle in his arms, but she did not. Instead she buried her face in his chest and burst into weeping.
- Is she from the bus? – Luka asked.
Malucci shrugged his shoulders.
- I have no idea. I haven’t seen her before.
Now that was strange. ER was always a chaos, but this chaos was run well enough not to have unidentified kids crying around.
- Go and find someone who knows. I’ll check if she’s all right.
He carried the girl in exam room, switched on the light and put her on the exam table. She wasn’t injured but she looked scared. He pulled a stool and sat in front of her, his face at the level of her eyes.
- Hi. My name’s Luka and I am a doctor. Who are you?
She looked at him with her big blue eyes, but said nothing. She was very thin, with long legs and shoulder length blonde hair. She stopped crying but she didn’t answer.
- Don’t be afraid. No one will hurt you. What is your name?
She was silent.
- Do you understand? Ok, I am Luka, - he put his hand on his chest and then touched her with his forefinger, - and you are…
- Lida, - she said in a very low voice, barely more than a whisper.
- Lida? – he frowned. That wasn’t a very common name. He suspected she might not speak English, but then what? Apparently not Spanish.
Just as he was going to try asking her about her last name she spoke, but he didn’t get it.
- What? Say it again.
She did. It sounded like a question, and there was something slightly familiar in the words she said.
The door opened and Kerry walked in before he could concentrate enough to work out what language it was. The ER Chief had the most peculiar exprеssion on her face. She, ever efficient, never failing Weaver, seemed to have no clue to who the girl was.
- I thought you went home, – he said.
- I was going to. Now, I’m staying until this situation clears up. How is she, Luka?
- Fine, except that she doesn’t speak English.
- Oh, no.
- I’m no specialist, but as far as I can tell it is a Slavic language.
There was a sparkle of hope in Kerry’s eyes.
- Have you tried speaking Croatian to her?
- Kerry, Slavic languages are not all the same!
- I know, I’m not that idiot, but it’s worth giving it a try. If you know some words of her language she might recognize some of yours.
- I’ll try.
- Ok. And I’ll phone all the doctors and nurses who’ve already left.