The Important Parts, Chapter 3
Chapter 3
The only problem with living in New York for Luke was the crowds. He did not mind the confined space, but he did have issues with the amount of germs to which he was exposed. It was a real challenge for someone on immunosuppressants. Luke found himself sick more often than he used to be and needing more appointments with the nephrologist to check his kidney. Back in November, it was particularly bad, but now that it was well into January, his bouts of illness seemed to have slowed down or even stopped.
Today was the unusual day where he had merely a scheduled checkup on his kidney because of recent changes to his medication. His nephrologist, Dr. Marcus Holmes -he could hear Reid making Sherlock jokes in his head-worked at NYU Hospital, convenient to where Luke lived. He had a resume that even Reid would have admitted was formidable-Duke undergrad, Stanford Medical School, and numerous articles in the New England Journal of Medicine. Actually, on second thought, Reid would have been unimpressed. Luke liked the doctor anyway. Regardless, the hospital itself was state-of-the-art and Luke found himself thinking of Reid anytime he entered it.
Strangely, it was here after all these years that Luke finally sensed Reid’s presence. He found comfort in it even if it did not make much sense to him. He had been seeing Dr. Holmes for nearly six months and from the first day, he felt like Reid was near. He was amazed, elated. Finally, finally, he found a certain amount of peace. It seemed like a whimsical stroke of fate finally bestowing upon Luke what he hoped for in the least likely of places. As far as Luke knew, Reid had never been here and that made the feeling all the more unexpected.
****
“You obviously want something, so why don't you just ask me, I'll say no, and then you can go back to being yourself.”
Jude woke up to the sound of ‘the voice’ in his dreams yet again. Faceless and in darkness, the person speaking was always the same. Jude had no feelings attached to the words; he could only interpret them after he woke up. Was it a voice from the past? He did not know. Jude wished the voice would stop, but he could never quite shake it. While more frequent five years ago, it had nearly stopped until about six months ago when he started hearing ‘the voice,’ as he called it, off and on again. It had been three weeks since the last time he had heard it, but here it was again.
‘The voice’ this time left Jude a little uneasy. His heart raced in anticipation of something unknown. It was foolishness and Jude knew it, but he could not stop feeling that something about today was going to be different. Different how? He did not know. Jude took a long shower to clear his head and found himself headed toward a diner for some breakfast. He hoped to pick up a bagel and some coffee before going to work.
Since he was coming from the diner and not his apartment, he entered the hospital from the door that patients generally use, not doctors. Coffee in hand and shrugging off his grey jacket, he walked toward the registration area so that he could access the elevators. At the registration desk, he noticed the profile of a younger man with blonde hair leaning against the Formica counter with one hand propping up his chin. The man was wearing a dark green sweater and clutching what looked like a dark blue winter coat. Jude couldn’t see the entirety of his face, but his smile was arresting. Oddly engaging. Jude rarely noticed those around him, but there was something about this man that was striking. The sound of the automatic doors closing behind him brought Jude out of his aimless musings. Giving an abrupt shake of his head, Jude headed to the elevator.
He never saw the blonde’s eyes suddenly snap, as if they were yanked by a string, towards the closing elevator doors.
***
Marcus Holmes was a kindly middle-aged doctor that reminded Luke of a slightly younger Dr. Hughes. He had a sharp sense of humor that sometimes tended toward corniness, which Luke actually enjoyed. Luke had chosen Dr. Holmes based on his reputation, but Luke was pleased to find that the doctor’s bedside manner matched his credentials. He was friendly and easy to be around.
This particular appointment with Dr. Holmes went well.
“Okay, Luke, let’s keep you on your current pill regimen. You seem to be responding well to them. I want you to stop at the lab on your way out for a few blood tests. Unless you have any more questions, I’ll see you in six months.”
“That’s great, doctor. I think my body may be adjusting to living in a big city, so hopefully I won’t have to see you before then. No offense.”
“None taken,” said Marcus, pushing a hand through his grey hair. “It would take a lot more than that to offend me this week.”
Luke smiled slightly. “Why’s that?” he asked politely.
Marcus sighed rather dramatically if you were to ask Luke. “I’m consulting this week on one of our neurosurgeon’s patients. Let’s just say I’ve grown accustomed to having insults thrown at me all day. ”
Luke, now genuinely curious, asked, “By the patient?”
“No. That would be easier to handle. By the doctor.”
Luke laughed, “I’ve had some experience with obnoxious neurosurgeons myself. Who’s the doctor?”
The doctor looked at the smile on his patient’s face and wondered at the underlying sadness he saw in Luke’s eyes. He had come to know his patient fairly well within the past six months, but he realized he did not know much about Luke’s personal life. Some patients told you their life stories, but Luke was not one of them. Luke was generally friendly, but somewhat reticent. To be honest, he was the perfect patient for a busy doctor.
He spoke after a brief pause, weighing the merits of what he could say. “I probably shouldn’t tell you any of this,” replied Marcus finally, “since it’s not exactly professional of me. I’m just super-annoyed. The guy keeps calling me ‘Sherlock,’ like I’ve never heard that one before. Still, I shouldn’t complain about a colleague. But, you could just go down the hall and ask anyone on staff and they could tell you who the rude neurosurgeon is here-Jude Mitchell.”
With a small grin, Luke responded, “Sherlock, really? That seems kind of obvious. I know he’s a neurosurgeon, but is he eight-years-old?”
Marcus snorted, “No. He figured out that it bugs me and he stuck with it. Tenaciously. The man is actually a genius-otherwise none of us would put up with him.”
Luke smiled and put out his hands as if he were offering up a gift. “I used to be on the board of a hospital back in Oakdale with a good neurology wing, would you like me to get him shipped there?”
Marcus figured it would probably be in appropriate to ask Luke to use his Grimaldi connections to rub out Jude so he said instead, “I’d probably be willing to give my right arm for that, but unfortunately, you would never see Dr. Mitchell be willing to move to a place as remote as Oakdale. He supposedly came from some place in the middle of Indiana, but I can’t picture it. I doubt I’ll ever be lucky enough to see him leave.” Dropping the topic, he looked at his watch, sighed, and asked, “How about I walk you out to the lab on my way to neurology?”
“Sounds great.”
*****
Luke played absently with the Band-Aid on his arm as he walked out of the lab. He hated having his blood drawn. Looking toward the windows while he entered the hall, he could see that it was raining outside. “Great, I forgot my umbrella,” he thought in irritation. He decided to walk down to the far end of the hospital and try to stay dry a little longer. If he got lucky, maybe he would catch a cab outside and avoid the January rain altogether.
Luke walked slowly down the hallway, observing the hospital staff rushing around while patients were sitting in waiting rooms. He liked watching people again ever since he came to New York. Away from home, there were no worries that people were watching him. At the moment, he was observing two nurses deep in discussion with each other. They were giggling like they were trading gossip. As he passed them, he looked to his right and saw the double doors leading to the neurology department. Behind them were a set of elevators. He smiled as he saw a frazzled Dr. Holmes come rushing out the door towards him.
“Luke! It’s been so long,” he joked. “Do you need help finding your way out of here?”
The younger man replied, “No. I’m here trying to avoid the rain as much as possible. Thought I’d go out the east entrance and-“
Marcus watched as Luke suddenly inhaled and turned unbelievably pale. Luke’s mouth dropped open, then closed, and then opened again.
“Reid,” Luke breathed, barely audible.
Marcus looked in the direction that had Luke so transfixed and saw Dr. Mitchell inside one of the elevators. The auburn-haired man was shuffling through a large file in his hands.
The doors started to close and Luke sprung into motion. “Reid!” he yelled. “Reid! Reid!”
Luke ran toward the elevator, literally pushing a stout nurse aside, but it was too late. He frantically pushed the call button, but seemed to suddenly realize that he would not know what floor to press.
“Luke, are you alright?” asked Marcus who had approached Luke from behind. Luke turned abruptly, having forgotten the doctor’s presence until that moment.
Luke grabbed Marcus’s hand. “Do you know the man who just got on that elevator?” he asked urgently.
Looking at Luke’s colorless face, Marcus realized his answer was of vital importance to his patient. “Well sure. We were just talking about him a little while ago.” Luke made no response. “Luke? I think you need to sit down.” Taking Luke’s minute nod of his head as assent, the doctor took his arm and escorted him to the nearest bench. “Shall I get you some water?”
Luke emerged from his daze. An attentive urgency laced his voice. “No. His name, his name. What is his name?”
“It’s Jude Mitchell. Why? What is going on?” Marcus was truly concerned about Luke and wondered if Jude had done something to Luke in the past.
“How long has he worked here?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe three or four years?”
“Where did he come from?”
“From what I understand, Indiana. Some small hospital out there that shut down. I have no idea how someone like him would have ended up there after Cambridge.”
“Cambridge.” Luke murmured as if that were somehow important. “And he’s rude, right? Completely arrogant and cold?”
Marcus quirked a smile. “That describes him, yes.” Then more seriously, he said, “Luke, I’m worried. Your eyes are glassy and your heart is racing. I need you to calm down and tell me what’s going on.”
Ignoring the doctor, Luke asked one final question, “Has he been in any sort of accident? Something terrible?”
“Well, yes. I think it was a little over five years ago. I believe it nearly killed him. It left him without memories--”
Luke suddenly beamed a smile so wide that Marcus felt he had never seen joy before now. It was not only remarkable but also a strange response to Marcus’s answer.
The blonde declared, “I don’t know how it’s possible, but I think your Jude Mitchell is really my Reid Oliver.”
The name seemed familiar to Marcus. “Wait, the neurosurgeon with that center named after him in Illinois? I thought he died.”
“So did I.”
The only problem with living in New York for Luke was the crowds. He did not mind the confined space, but he did have issues with the amount of germs to which he was exposed. It was a real challenge for someone on immunosuppressants. Luke found himself sick more often than he used to be and needing more appointments with the nephrologist to check his kidney. Back in November, it was particularly bad, but now that it was well into January, his bouts of illness seemed to have slowed down or even stopped.
Today was the unusual day where he had merely a scheduled checkup on his kidney because of recent changes to his medication. His nephrologist, Dr. Marcus Holmes -he could hear Reid making Sherlock jokes in his head-worked at NYU Hospital, convenient to where Luke lived. He had a resume that even Reid would have admitted was formidable-Duke undergrad, Stanford Medical School, and numerous articles in the New England Journal of Medicine. Actually, on second thought, Reid would have been unimpressed. Luke liked the doctor anyway. Regardless, the hospital itself was state-of-the-art and Luke found himself thinking of Reid anytime he entered it.
Strangely, it was here after all these years that Luke finally sensed Reid’s presence. He found comfort in it even if it did not make much sense to him. He had been seeing Dr. Holmes for nearly six months and from the first day, he felt like Reid was near. He was amazed, elated. Finally, finally, he found a certain amount of peace. It seemed like a whimsical stroke of fate finally bestowing upon Luke what he hoped for in the least likely of places. As far as Luke knew, Reid had never been here and that made the feeling all the more unexpected.
****
“You obviously want something, so why don't you just ask me, I'll say no, and then you can go back to being yourself.”
Jude woke up to the sound of ‘the voice’ in his dreams yet again. Faceless and in darkness, the person speaking was always the same. Jude had no feelings attached to the words; he could only interpret them after he woke up. Was it a voice from the past? He did not know. Jude wished the voice would stop, but he could never quite shake it. While more frequent five years ago, it had nearly stopped until about six months ago when he started hearing ‘the voice,’ as he called it, off and on again. It had been three weeks since the last time he had heard it, but here it was again.
‘The voice’ this time left Jude a little uneasy. His heart raced in anticipation of something unknown. It was foolishness and Jude knew it, but he could not stop feeling that something about today was going to be different. Different how? He did not know. Jude took a long shower to clear his head and found himself headed toward a diner for some breakfast. He hoped to pick up a bagel and some coffee before going to work.
Since he was coming from the diner and not his apartment, he entered the hospital from the door that patients generally use, not doctors. Coffee in hand and shrugging off his grey jacket, he walked toward the registration area so that he could access the elevators. At the registration desk, he noticed the profile of a younger man with blonde hair leaning against the Formica counter with one hand propping up his chin. The man was wearing a dark green sweater and clutching what looked like a dark blue winter coat. Jude couldn’t see the entirety of his face, but his smile was arresting. Oddly engaging. Jude rarely noticed those around him, but there was something about this man that was striking. The sound of the automatic doors closing behind him brought Jude out of his aimless musings. Giving an abrupt shake of his head, Jude headed to the elevator.
He never saw the blonde’s eyes suddenly snap, as if they were yanked by a string, towards the closing elevator doors.
***
Marcus Holmes was a kindly middle-aged doctor that reminded Luke of a slightly younger Dr. Hughes. He had a sharp sense of humor that sometimes tended toward corniness, which Luke actually enjoyed. Luke had chosen Dr. Holmes based on his reputation, but Luke was pleased to find that the doctor’s bedside manner matched his credentials. He was friendly and easy to be around.
This particular appointment with Dr. Holmes went well.
“Okay, Luke, let’s keep you on your current pill regimen. You seem to be responding well to them. I want you to stop at the lab on your way out for a few blood tests. Unless you have any more questions, I’ll see you in six months.”
“That’s great, doctor. I think my body may be adjusting to living in a big city, so hopefully I won’t have to see you before then. No offense.”
“None taken,” said Marcus, pushing a hand through his grey hair. “It would take a lot more than that to offend me this week.”
Luke smiled slightly. “Why’s that?” he asked politely.
Marcus sighed rather dramatically if you were to ask Luke. “I’m consulting this week on one of our neurosurgeon’s patients. Let’s just say I’ve grown accustomed to having insults thrown at me all day. ”
Luke, now genuinely curious, asked, “By the patient?”
“No. That would be easier to handle. By the doctor.”
Luke laughed, “I’ve had some experience with obnoxious neurosurgeons myself. Who’s the doctor?”
The doctor looked at the smile on his patient’s face and wondered at the underlying sadness he saw in Luke’s eyes. He had come to know his patient fairly well within the past six months, but he realized he did not know much about Luke’s personal life. Some patients told you their life stories, but Luke was not one of them. Luke was generally friendly, but somewhat reticent. To be honest, he was the perfect patient for a busy doctor.
He spoke after a brief pause, weighing the merits of what he could say. “I probably shouldn’t tell you any of this,” replied Marcus finally, “since it’s not exactly professional of me. I’m just super-annoyed. The guy keeps calling me ‘Sherlock,’ like I’ve never heard that one before. Still, I shouldn’t complain about a colleague. But, you could just go down the hall and ask anyone on staff and they could tell you who the rude neurosurgeon is here-Jude Mitchell.”
With a small grin, Luke responded, “Sherlock, really? That seems kind of obvious. I know he’s a neurosurgeon, but is he eight-years-old?”
Marcus snorted, “No. He figured out that it bugs me and he stuck with it. Tenaciously. The man is actually a genius-otherwise none of us would put up with him.”
Luke smiled and put out his hands as if he were offering up a gift. “I used to be on the board of a hospital back in Oakdale with a good neurology wing, would you like me to get him shipped there?”
Marcus figured it would probably be in appropriate to ask Luke to use his Grimaldi connections to rub out Jude so he said instead, “I’d probably be willing to give my right arm for that, but unfortunately, you would never see Dr. Mitchell be willing to move to a place as remote as Oakdale. He supposedly came from some place in the middle of Indiana, but I can’t picture it. I doubt I’ll ever be lucky enough to see him leave.” Dropping the topic, he looked at his watch, sighed, and asked, “How about I walk you out to the lab on my way to neurology?”
“Sounds great.”
*****
Luke played absently with the Band-Aid on his arm as he walked out of the lab. He hated having his blood drawn. Looking toward the windows while he entered the hall, he could see that it was raining outside. “Great, I forgot my umbrella,” he thought in irritation. He decided to walk down to the far end of the hospital and try to stay dry a little longer. If he got lucky, maybe he would catch a cab outside and avoid the January rain altogether.
Luke walked slowly down the hallway, observing the hospital staff rushing around while patients were sitting in waiting rooms. He liked watching people again ever since he came to New York. Away from home, there were no worries that people were watching him. At the moment, he was observing two nurses deep in discussion with each other. They were giggling like they were trading gossip. As he passed them, he looked to his right and saw the double doors leading to the neurology department. Behind them were a set of elevators. He smiled as he saw a frazzled Dr. Holmes come rushing out the door towards him.
“Luke! It’s been so long,” he joked. “Do you need help finding your way out of here?”
The younger man replied, “No. I’m here trying to avoid the rain as much as possible. Thought I’d go out the east entrance and-“
Marcus watched as Luke suddenly inhaled and turned unbelievably pale. Luke’s mouth dropped open, then closed, and then opened again.
“Reid,” Luke breathed, barely audible.
Marcus looked in the direction that had Luke so transfixed and saw Dr. Mitchell inside one of the elevators. The auburn-haired man was shuffling through a large file in his hands.
The doors started to close and Luke sprung into motion. “Reid!” he yelled. “Reid! Reid!”
Luke ran toward the elevator, literally pushing a stout nurse aside, but it was too late. He frantically pushed the call button, but seemed to suddenly realize that he would not know what floor to press.
“Luke, are you alright?” asked Marcus who had approached Luke from behind. Luke turned abruptly, having forgotten the doctor’s presence until that moment.
Luke grabbed Marcus’s hand. “Do you know the man who just got on that elevator?” he asked urgently.
Looking at Luke’s colorless face, Marcus realized his answer was of vital importance to his patient. “Well sure. We were just talking about him a little while ago.” Luke made no response. “Luke? I think you need to sit down.” Taking Luke’s minute nod of his head as assent, the doctor took his arm and escorted him to the nearest bench. “Shall I get you some water?”
Luke emerged from his daze. An attentive urgency laced his voice. “No. His name, his name. What is his name?”
“It’s Jude Mitchell. Why? What is going on?” Marcus was truly concerned about Luke and wondered if Jude had done something to Luke in the past.
“How long has he worked here?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe three or four years?”
“Where did he come from?”
“From what I understand, Indiana. Some small hospital out there that shut down. I have no idea how someone like him would have ended up there after Cambridge.”
“Cambridge.” Luke murmured as if that were somehow important. “And he’s rude, right? Completely arrogant and cold?”
Marcus quirked a smile. “That describes him, yes.” Then more seriously, he said, “Luke, I’m worried. Your eyes are glassy and your heart is racing. I need you to calm down and tell me what’s going on.”
Ignoring the doctor, Luke asked one final question, “Has he been in any sort of accident? Something terrible?”
“Well, yes. I think it was a little over five years ago. I believe it nearly killed him. It left him without memories--”
Luke suddenly beamed a smile so wide that Marcus felt he had never seen joy before now. It was not only remarkable but also a strange response to Marcus’s answer.
The blonde declared, “I don’t know how it’s possible, but I think your Jude Mitchell is really my Reid Oliver.”
The name seemed familiar to Marcus. “Wait, the neurosurgeon with that center named after him in Illinois? I thought he died.”
“So did I.”