Perfect Match (32 page)

She snapped back, interrupting, “We don’t know if this is
going to work. Don’t get your hopes up. Something must not be right or Trevor
would have been here by now.”

Roscoe noticed the time was now past 8 o’clock.

“I’ve got to check on other patients.” She was out the door
before he could say anything else.

The minutes ticked by as if nailing down a death sentence.
Roscoe was muttering to himself.
Lord, I’m not giving up hope. I’m just
hoping that you know more about what you’re doing than I know about what I’m
doing. I’ve only asked for one thing; let Selena be okay. If my kidney can
help, fine. If not, that’s fine also. You just work it out for Selena. But you
know this thing called faith? Well mine is pretty thread-bare right now. I’m
too new at this church and religion thing, so I could use a little help in that
department, if you’re not too busy. I don’t know what else I can do? Do you
know
?

His thoughts were interrupted by two sets of footsteps
coming down the hall. Rachel and Trevor entered. Trevor closed the door. He
clutched a fist-full of papers in his left hand. His eyes were blood shot and
he looked tired, but worse the look on his face was dark and somber.

He started shaking his head. He looked at Roscoe and Rachel
seated on the edge of the chair. “It isn’t going to work folks. It’s just not
going to work.”

Roscoe asked, “What happened?”

“Okay, I’m going to discuss this hypothetically rather than
specifically for…” his voice cracked, “for Selena.” He cleared his throat.
“There was a match on two of the tests but the other one that tests for tissue
compatibility, there was no match at all. Zilch. Nothing.”

Roscoe was stunned and disappointed. “Show me how you read
your test results.” He pointed to the papers in Trevor’s hand.

“That won’t change anything, Roscoe. It is what it is.” He
paused a moment. “But here’s how the results are read.” Trevor took time to
explain the test process, the areas where compatibility matches are made
between the donor and the recipient, and the importance of each match and how
it can impact the organ transplant rejection issues for the recipient. “Only a
doctor can make the final decision in individual cases, but from the literature
I’ve read this is a no-go situation.” He shook his head. “But I’m not the
doctor.”

Roscoe and Rachel were impressed with Trevor’s knowledge,
even though the results of the tests were disappointing.

Roscoe kept looking at the printout, especially the last
page. It was all gibberish to him. He didn’t know what he was looking at.
Numbers and squiggly symbols. He’d cheated his way through high school
chemistry. He didn’t have enough knowledge to even ask a sensible question. He
wasn’t sure where the question came from. It just popped out. “What if you took
the numbers that you said that don’t match and reverse the entire second set or
row? What would that do?”

Trevor’s politeness evaporated. “I can’t believe you’d ask a
stupid question like that. Are you losing touch with reality? You don’t do
science by moving numbers around willy-nilly. It doesn’t change anything.” He
blew out a puff of air, raking his right hand across his weary face.

Roscoe keeping his cool said, “I know it won’t change
anything. I was just wondering about something that I know nothing about. So…?”

Trevor snatched the papers from Roscoe’s hand. “Let me see
if I can come up with a brilliant answer to a ridiculous question.” Although
visibly irked by Roscoe’s question, he mentally began reversing the numbers.

Roscoe and Rachel waited…for what, neither knew. Time seemed
to be an empty yawning hole.

Trevor’s brow wrinkled. He thumbed through a couple more
sheets. He looked up at them. He looked at his watch. “I’ve got to hurry. I’m
going to be late.” He spun on his feet and ran from the room.

Roscoe and Rachel heard his shoes pounding down the vinyl
hall bypassing the elevators heading for the stairs. They looked at each other
in silence.

Selena had finished breakfast and had a spike of energy. She
felt good again, almost like her old self, but she knew the see-saw feeling all
too well. Feel good one minute, then terrible the next. She’d have to conserve
her strength by remaining in her hospital bed, forget about the sunroom, and
just work on her novel. She thought, I must have everything in place.

She thought about her restless night last night. The
nightmares, waking up in a cold sweat, missing her mom, wishing she could go back
home to her small bedroom.

Her mind drifted for a moment thinking of her bedroom and
how it had been such a big part of her world the past couple of years. She’d
made lots of phone calls to her friends from that bedroom. She’d started her
novel sitting at her used desk beside her bed. Her favorite books were neatly
lined on the bookshelf her mom had given her for her sixteenth birthday. I love
my books.
Thank you, Lord, for the joy of reading and writing
.

Trevor came off the bottom flight of stairs in a huff.
Before entering the hall leading to the lab he tucked in his shirt, and
straightened his lab coat. His shirt collar was soaking wet with perspiration.

As he entered the lab, Marilyn, one of the lab techs who had
the hots for him said, “Hey there cutie. I thought you were gone. Soo-o-o glad
to see you back.” She flicked her lashes at him.

Dreading having to waste time with her, he, smiled and said,
“Yeah, well I’m in a bit of hurry.” He quickly scanned the lab for an available
computer. All were occupied. Damn! Then he noticed a hand scribbled sign on one
of the printers. “What’s wrong with the alpha printer?”

Marilyn giggled. “Started acting up again. Doris said it had
been malfunctioning off and on the past few days. You’ll have to use the bravo
printer or one of the others, if you can get a place in line. Doris said the
lab had been busy all night.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. I was here most of the night.”

Sidling closer to him she said, “What you working on?
Something I can help with?” She smiled and wet her lips.

“Uh, not really. Just doing a little extra credit project
for my portfolio. Just wanted to double check a couple of things.” Nothing like
having to explain every freaking detail to nosey people. He scanned the room
again for a vacant computer. Looking at her, he asked, “Who’s up next for their
break?”

“Hmm, not sure.” She looked at him a moment. “I’ll take my
break early and you can use my computer station, but only if you agree to
attend my birthday bash next Thursday at the Rockout Club. Deal or no?”

Trevor was starting to sweat again. “I think…I think I’m
free that night. Not sure but I think so. Sounds like fun.” Before thinking he
reached out and hugged her.

She clung to him whispering, “Your body feels sexy, Trevor.
I’ve got everything you want in a female. Just give me a chance, huh?”

“You’re about to get me addled. I need to think clearly,
can’t mess up this project. Thanks for use of the computer.” He laughed
nervously, stepping back.

“Okay, I better see you at my party.” She winked at him,
swinging her hips as she walked away.

He barely had minutes before the all-seeing supervisor,
Alberta Simmons, arrived in the lab. He schooled himself to make no mistakes.
Every stroke on the keyboard had to be accurate the first time. He clicked
through the layers of security protocol, user id, password, but he also knew a
couple of over-rides that he’d learned that would minimize his presence on the
network.

His data was on his flash drive. He inserted it in the USB
port, made some quick double checks. Everything was in order or it had better
be. No second chances. The clock was ticking and the damn supervisor was
probably locking her car heading for the building entrance. The most on-time
woman he’d ever known.

He hit the print button, and began exiting from the
computer, backing through the security layers, and pocketing his flash drive.

By the time he got to the printer, Meg, a lab newbie was
collecting her print job. She was looking through her sheets, noticing that
she’d picked up additional pages.

“Sorry about that, Meg. You beat me to the printer.”

“What is this stuff anyway? Hey, I’ve seen that kind of
chart in one of my textbooks last year. Transplant stuff. Who’s up for a
transplant?”

“Oh, no, nothing high tech like that. Just a little side
project I’m working on for extra credit.” His laugh made a quacking sound.

“I thought you were through with classes.”

“I am but I’m toying with a couple of ideas for next year.
Got to keep building my portfolio so I can get me a job like you’ve got one of
these days.”

“Don’t patronize me, Trevor.” She stomped off.

The lab supervisor was coming through the door heading for
her corner office. Trevor folded his printed report twice, jammed it into his
lab coat pocket, and sauntered for the door leading to the hall.

The supervisor walked toward him. “I wasn’t aware that you
were scheduled for work this morning.” She stared waiting for an answer.

“Oh, hi, Mrs. Simmons, I just dropped by to get my…my pen.”

“You forgot your pen?” Stern probing tone.

“Yes ma’am. Is that a problem?”

“The pen isn’t a problem, but your forgetting is a problem.
We’re not running a kindergarten here. This is a very serious place to work.
Forgetting will not get you very far in this world. Are you aware of that,
Trevor?” She scowled as she had been doing from birth sixty years ago.

“Yes ma’am I am, and I thank you for reminding me. I do
appreciate your helpfulness. You’ve really been a good supervisor. I’ve learned
so much from you.”

She preened at his comments. “I try, Trevor. I try. Your
continued appreciation of good management leadership will take you far in this
profession. Don’t you forget that.”

“Yes ma’am. I’ll remember.”

She turned looking out across the lab area at the
technicians hunched over their work stations. “I’d better check and see what
kind of shenanigans these worker bees have been up to overnight. Dear me,
there’s always a ton of work waiting for me to straighten out.” She walked off,
as if she’d never had a conversation with Trevor.

He was grim-faced as he left the lab and headed to the staff
restroom for men through another doorway down the hall. He stepped inside,
quickly noticing that no one was in the bathroom. He walked over to one of the
sinks, looking at himself in the mirror. He literally looked like death on
legs. He ran the cold water splashing it on his face several times, before
drying off with paper towels.

He finally let out a deep breath of air, as he thought about
a change of career. Something like a forest ranger living fifty miles from
nowhere and no damn nosey people pounding you with frivolous questions. Maybe
Selena would come live with me as my wife someday. If only… His eyes watered
thinking about her.

Rachel was completing a patient report when her phone rang.
“This is Rachel Johnson.”

She listened, and then said, “I can meet you in his room in
about thirty minutes. Any problems?” She nodded.

As the call ended, she sighed with a silent prayer. She
finished her report but had to double check it because her thoughts had drifted
off task. A no-no for a nurse of her experience and caliber.

After nursing for twenty-five years, and the long days on
her feet and the demands of nursing were beginning to take their toll. But
retirement did not seem to be an option anytime soon. She had a grown son and
daughter living back home with her while they looked for work, and her grandson
had daycare and other needs. The burden was hers.

Rachel made her rounds to her other six patients, ending up
in Roscoe’s room. He was standing at his window watching the activity on the
sprawling front lawn of the hospital campus. He also noted the darkening
overcast sky. Strong thunder storms were forecast for overnight.

He was dressed in khakis and blue short-sleeve shirt. He’d
slipped on his casual loafers. He turned at the sound of Rachel entering the
room. “Heard anything yet from Trevor?”

Looking a little puzzled she said, “He called and I told him
I’d meet him in your room about now.” She glanced at the wall clock. “Didn’t he
call you?”

He shook his head. “Did he say anything about…?” His voice
faded.

She shook her head and stared at the floor.

Roscoe walked to his door peering up and down the hall. He
turned and got his smartphone on the small bed stand, hitting one of his speed
dial numbers. He left a voice mail. He hit the next speed dial number, leaving
another voice mail. Sighing, he hit the third speed dial. After the message
played he said, “Trevor, this is Roscoe. Just wondering how things are going.
Please give me a call ASAP. Thanks.” He clicked his phone shut. “Don’t know why
he’s not answering at any of his numbers. He raked his hand through his thick
black hair, feeling helpless.

His room phone rang. “Yes? Yes, this is room 405.” He
paused. “Lunch? You want me to order lunch?” His head rolled back, staring at
the ceiling, and then the wall clock. “Uh, yes I’ll order. Let me have double
orders of fresh fruits, apples, bananas, oranges, cantaloupe, raisins, two cups
of yogurt, three packs of peanuts, and three containers of cranberry juice.
That ought to do it.”

Rachel said, “Well for a man with an ailing foot you surely
have an interesting appetite. I noticed as you walked I didn’t detect even the
slightest limp, and yesterday you were really in major pain. Tsk! Tsk! My, what
a quick recovery, Fallington.” She chuckled. “You’re not even a good actor.”

“I’m practicing getting well, since you’re going to throw me
out of the hospital tomorrow.” He raised an eyebrow. “Any chance of delaying
that release?”