Second on the Right (14 page)

Eileen and James arrived back in New York
rested and happy. During their trip on Saint Vincent Island, the
couple had come up with a plan for their future. James was to use
her apartment whenever business called him to the city. Though his
primary residence was in England, he expressed a burning desire to
stay in New York. By the end of the month, James had moved to New
York. One aspect Eileen liked about the arrangement was that she
finally rid herself of her apartment mate, who had been behind on
rent for a few months. With James it would never be an issue.

The first day after returning from vacation,
Eileen confidently strode into her supervisor’s office. “George!”
she said brightly.

George, who was lost in thought staring at
his aquarium, jumped at his name. He gawked as the self-confident
and poised beautiful young woman entered his office. “Eileen?”

She grinned at the dumbfounded look on his
face. “The one and the same.”

“No,” he said more to himself than her. “Not
the same.”

Eileen tried to suppress her grin, but the
fact was she was proud of the woman she had become. “George,” she
began, but sighed. His attention was back on the aquarium.
“George!”

“Hmm?” he asked distractedly, only offering a
glance in her direction.

She slipped a letter in front of him. “I’m
giving my resignation, effective immediately.”

His head turned so quickly, he winced from
the whiplash. “What?” he shouted at her, his face turning a deep
shade of red. “You can’t just quit! It would look bad on your
resume. I won’t give you a good reference. You’ll be begging for
this job in less than a week!” He stood, his shoulders heaving as
he leaned on his desk for support.

Eileen was not fazed. Resisting the urge to
roll her eyes, she simply said, “I quit, George. It would do you
good to leave it at that, unless you’d also like a harassment suit
to boot?” She gave a smirk. “A friend of mine is very well
connected. He knows several lawyers who would be interested in
hearing of my treatment here, especially the ‘terms of endearment.’
Oh yes, and the slaps on the—”

“You wouldn’t,” he said breathily.

“Goodbye, George.” She turned on her heels,
strolling out of the office. Before she was completely out of his
sight, she looked over her shoulder, “Good luck with the board. I
know they’d love to hear how you’ll manage my ideas on the new
product line. Don’t bother calling me. My cell number has changed.”
The last thing she saw before leaving was an ashen-faced George,
his eyes wide with fright.

James provided continual encouragement for
Eileen. Believing in her abilities, he had helped guide her towards
completing her remaining medical courses. Her progress was slow at
first because of her precarious financial situation. James offered
to pay for her education, but she did not feel it was right to
accept his money while they were simply dating. James had jokingly
noted there was a simple solution for that, but she had laughed off
the implicit proposal. It took some convincing, but his
stubbornness and determination finally wore her down. She agreed to
accept help from him in order to complete her classes. Once
finished, it was a friend of his that secured a residency for her
at a local hospital in New York.

James had partially moved into Eileen’s
apartment only a week after the end of their cruise. They had been
seeing one another exclusively since. Business often kept James in
England, but he spent as much time with Eileen as possible. He was
happy, especially once he won the argument on managing both of
their finances.

Agitated by a mystic tidal force, the lonely
star was now set on course.

Witch, fortune teller, old woman or friend,
all to bring the two together again.

November 14, 2006: 11:24pm

A city of romance, mystery, danger, and more,
New York has attracted tourists for decades. As night fell and the
stars came out, the crisp November air chilled. The sidewalk was
damp from a recent storm. A couple, new to the city, had recently
finished an evening of fine dining, followed by a Broadway show.
Deeply intoxicated with the sights and sounds of the city, they
walked arm-in-arm, the woman's head resting lightly on the man's
shoulder. Every once in a while the couple would pause to kiss,
only to resume walking.

Soft giggling echoed down the street as the
man whispered something into the woman's ear. Again stopping, they
embraced into a passionate kiss. The moon high above, partially
covered by clouds, gave soft light, hinting at the expressions of
the two love birds.

Once again the happy couple resumed their
walk down the street, this time their pace quickened as their
attraction for each other increased exponentially. A fire within
their hearts, they ambled, hand in hand to their destination.

The man nearly tripped on his feet when he
craned his neck to make out what he had thought was a large pile of
clothes. Regaining his balance, on second glance he realized the
rags were the body of an unconscious man, lying in the gutter.
Water rushed over the drifter.

He assumed the vagrant was drunk. He was
going to continue walking, but the woman tugged at his hand. She
nudged him towards the man lying on the ground.

"He’s soaked, and it's freezing. We should
help him," the woman urged.

"There are countless of homeless on these
streets and in any city, for that matter. He's probably used to
living this way. Or, he could be a junkie," he replied tersely.

She pressed him further. "We should at least
call someone to help him. What if he's dying, or…d-dead?"

With his foot, he lightly kicked the leg of
the transient lying on the ground. There was no response.
Perhaps she's right…perhaps he is dead or dying.

With irritation at the bum, at his
girlfriend, and at the world, he pulled out his cellphone.
One-and-a-half hours later, the police and paramedics arrived.
Obviously, this homeless man was not a priority on their list.
After answering the police officer’s questions, the couple was
released to go to their hotel. Their mood had changed from the
ordeal. The girlfriend, upset at her boyfriend's hesitation to show
compassion, had already made up her mind he would be sleeping on
the couch.

The police notified the paramedics. The
ambulance arrived and the EMTs assessed the vagrant. He was nearly
frozen with no pulse. Confirming he was dead, the paramedics called
the city coroner's office. The coroner pronounced the time of death
and loaded the body into a van to be taken to the city morgue.

The city morgue was a technologically
advanced facility. Though most television shows seemed to depict
them as dark and dingy, this particular morgue was well lit. The
layout consisted of one large storage area in the middle,
surrounded by a hallway with smaller rooms outlining the outer
portion of the facility. The storage room held the cadavers, nearly
four hundred at the moment. It was equipped with metal tables and
shelves, littered with bodies. The morgue staff had been inundated
with cases over the past few months. It seemed that as the economy
changed, more and more corpses were coming in.

Dr. Perkins had been taking a much-needed
break in one of the nearby rooms on an exam table. In the dark, he
was having a pleasant dream involving himself, a beach, some
drinks, and the new blonde intern who had started working that
week. It was just beginning to get interesting as the intern slowly
undressed.

A click followed by a loud crash interrupted
Perkins’ dream. A large stream of light flooded the room, falling
over his body as he lay on the table. He blinked, raised a hand to
block the light, and whined, asking for five more minutes.

"Get up!" the well-endowed new intern
shouted.

Grumbling to himself, Perkins rolled off the
autopsy table, landing onto his feet. He ran his fingers through
his dark brown hair and then over his face as he tried to wake up.
When he stepped into the storage room, his green eyes looked over
the bodies upon bodies on shelves and on tables. The sight
depressed him. It was an enormous amount of work.

So many bodies, so little time,
he
thought with a chuckle.
At least I have a captive
audience.

The intern handed Dr. Perkins a green card
file. He matched it to the toe tag, but not before taking a long
look at the intern's backside as she walked away.

Nice, very nice.
He grinned.

Back to the task at hand, he laid the file on
the table. He pulled open the bag covering the body and again
matched the description on the file to the body before him.

Gender: Female

Ethnicity: Caucasian

Height: 5' 2" (157.5 cm)

Weight: 110 lbs

Eyes: Brown

Hair: Brown

Confirming information and description
matched what was in the chart, Dr. Perkins began his preliminary
exam of the body. Approximately a half-hour into the process, he
began to yawn. He stretched his back and rolled his head around.
What he wanted more than anything was a nice hot shower and a good
night's rest. Unfortunately, he had drawn the short straw and had
the pleasure of working all night. He glanced at his watch: 2:00
am. Closing his eyes briefly, he tried to shake off the weariness
he was feeling. It was then that his ears picked up a rustling
sound.

His body froze. A few minutes passed by, and
he heard nothing. Chalking it up to his sleep-deprived mind, he
returned to the chart and body. As he was completing his exam, the
rustling sound came again from behind. He spun around quickly. He
surveyed the room, finding nothing but metal shelves and bagged
bodies. He called for the intern, thinking she was trying to play a
trick on him. She entered from the hallway.

"Yeah?" she asked, in the middle of eating a
ham sandwich.

"You've been out there the whole time?" he
questioned, trying his best to disguise his fear.

"In the break room. Is it
all right
if
I take a break to eat?" she said, annoyance both in her voice and
on her face.

Ignoring her, he asked, "Did you hear
anything?" He continued to look around the room.

She shook her head and grinned. "Really? You
are the doctor here, and you're getting spooked?" She laughed as
she walked back out of the room.

He sighed heavily.
So much for the dream
coming true. She really is a bitch
, but his thoughts were
interrupted by more rustling. It came from his left, away from the
door the intern disappeared through. As he crept towards the area,
he mumbled to himself, "I don't get paid enough for this."

James wanted to propose formally to Eileen,
but every time he made a plan to do so he was thwarted by business.
J.A.S. was having an exceptionally successful year, which meant
more time away from what he now felt was his true home.