Emergency Room
Part Eight
By Gary Schneeberger
TheSchnays@cs.com

There was something all-too-familiar in the way his cellular phone rang, something that told John Wells it was time to swap
his "I'm in charge here" voice for his "Absolutely boss, anything you say" one.

"Hello."

"John, how's it going out there?"

"Fine, Mr. Crichton. Just fine. We're about ready to wrap it up."

"So, no problems, then? Dr. Romano and his staff have been helpful?"

"Well, there may have been a glitch or two here and there."

"A glitch or two?"

"Yes, sir. A glitch or two."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing major, really."

"John?"

It sounded like a question, but it really wasn't.

"Well, you see, uh ... Eriq almost beat up his doctor. And Alex... well, Alex and her doctor didn't click too well, either."

"Is that it?"

"Yes, sir. Mostly."

"Mostly?"

That sounded like a question, too. But it wasn't, either.

"Well, we haven't really had a chance to talk about all of the interviews yet. We're going to have dinner here in about an hour
and debrief, but ..."

"But?"

"Well, sir, it just seems a little odd is all. Michael's been sleeping for the past hour, Goran's been walking around muttering
something about viscosity, Anthony can't seem to find his doctor at all and Paul -- well, sir, Paul just looks like he's about to
cry and break into song."

"Do I need to come out there, John?"

"No, sir. Absolutely not. I've got it all under control."

"I hope so, because this is a very important project. I can't afford another Congo, you know? If this hits, we could have a
series on our hands. At the very least, I'm already working on the sequel."

"Really, sir, what's the premise?"

Wells had worked for Mr. Best-Selling Novel long enough to know that the surest way to avoid his wrath was to get him talking about himself.

"Well, you know that big kid who used to work there we read about in the background material the board sent along, that kid with the kangaroo fetish?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, everyone thinks he just vanished off the face of the earth, right?"

"Yes, sir. It's the strangest thing. No one around here ever even talks about the guy. Like he's been gone millions of years or
something."

"Exactly. But what if, one day, he came back to Chicago? Just showed up after having faded from everyone's memory? With big plans? Plans to open a wild marsupial refuge as a tourist attraction?"

"Fascinating concept, Mr. Crichton. Just fascinating."

Thank God I'm in a hospital, Wells thought. It'll be easy to find some aspirin once I'm off the phone with this guy.

"Know what I'm going to call it?"

"No, sir. But I'm sure it's brilliant."

Oh, yeah, right up there with "Looker."

"Jer-assic Park."



"So, does it bother you that the actresses who are playing us aren't even here?"

Abby didn't usually spend a lot of time talking to Jing-Mei, but she figured that since--as usual-- there wasn't a whole lot of
actual medical stuff for them to do, she might as well strike up a conversation.

"No, not really," Jing-Mei replied, just happy to finally get a line now that everybody else--again, as usual--already had had a
speaking part.

"It doesn't make you feel, you know, like we're not very important around here?"

"Not at all. I already feel like I'm not that important around here. I mean, I've actually stooped to walking around here with a
tight black dress on, for no earthly reason at all, just so the guys, at least, will have an excuse to interact with me."

"I know how you feel. I'm not really thrilled about getting so personally involved in the lives of my patients, since it violates every professional and ethical standard they're teaching me in medical school. But since no one seems to really know anything about my own personal life, I figure I can at least have something to do if I attach myself to somebody else's."

"It worked for Lucy."

"I know. Everyone says I remind them of her. I want to be just like her ... aside from that part about being stabbed to death,
of course."

The words that would have officially made it the longest conversation Jing-Mei had ever had with an E.R. colleague were
almost out of her mouth when her eyes spotted the image, sending the sentence fleeing hurriedly back to the safety of her
thoughts. Abby noticed it, too, and braced for the unpleasantness they both knew would come.

Nothing but bad could result from the sight in front of them: Dr. Weaver, looking prettier than usual out of her glasses and lab
coat, yes, but also limping more laboredly that either of them had ever seen her limp before. Oh, God, they thought, almost pained themselves as they watched the determined, clumsy cudgel-clacking of each crutch stroke, she must have hurt herself
-- and now she's looking for someone to hurt back before she heads home to recuperate.

Neither wanted to be the first to speak, but Jing-Mei finally leapt into the breach, mindful that she might not get another chance to talk to anyone in a month of Thursdays.

"Everything OK, Dr. Weaver?"

Those waiting to have their boils lanced and their indigestion eased as they looked on from chairs probably thought they were
watching a woman deaf since birth who had miraculously had her hearing restored. Even Jing-Mei and Abby were dumbfounded by the double-wide smile that had lit up Kerry's face the moment she heard the question.

"Yes! It worked!"

Jing-Mei's and Abby's perplexion hung between them just a beat or two before it was dissolved by the familiar, nasal and
none-too-pleased voice behind them.

"Ms. Innes, if you're finished embarrassing yourself over there, I have a few minutes to talk."



"Dr. Weaver, I hope you understand what I was doing."

Yeah, I understand it, Kerry thought. You were making fun of me. Like Doug did that time. And I ended up making him regret that, didn't I?

"It's just that realism is so important."

"I don't see how it's very realistic for you to impersonate me in front of my staff."

"Oh, I wasn't impersonating you, really. I was just trying to get a feel for your character, for Dr. Kathy Siever. And it worked. They really thought I was you."

Of course they did, Kerry thought. It was Abby and Jing-Mei. I haven't had any scenes with either one of them in months.

"You see, realism is so hard to find on television today. That's what makes 'Emergency Room' so special. It's grounded in reality, your reality. It's the antithesis of most of the other programming out there -- you know, all those sitcoms with stand-up comics and all that stupid professional wrestling?"

The words stung Kerry at the very core of her being, deep down in that secret place she didn't share with her colleagues. No, she wasn't a big fan of "Everybody Loves Raymond" or "The Hughleys," either. But how could this woman, this actress, say something like that about-

"You understand what I'm saying, don't you?"

Oh, yes, I understand it. I understand you're trying to rob me of the one joy I have in a life that's been overtaken by 12-hour
days that end with my clothes stained with blood and my mind stained with knowing everybody around here hates me. How could you be so cruel?

Kornberg. She closed her eyes and saw him, right where she left him -- waiting for her, all bulging and sweaty, in her dreams.
God, how she longed to have those hairy, tattooed, 26-inch biceps around her. How even her good knee felt weak everytime she watched him enter the arena on TV to the roars of the crowd, his singlet snug enough to answer even her most lascivious questions. How she wished she could kiss it and make it better everytime a bad guy gave him a crotch shot when the ref was looking the other way.

"Dr. Weaver?"

She still wasn't sure she'd recovered from last week, the first chance she'd had to see him in all that glorious flesh since he'd
been in with his knee injury. She'd taken Gabe along, just to get him out of the house, to the "Windy City Wingding" pay-per-view at the United Center. And just for a moment, when his eyes met hers in front row as she waved her "Kornberg Rules!" big red sponge hand, she thought he remembered her.

"Are you OK?"

OK, so he didn't remember her. He was only staring so intently at her because he wanted her to come up and retrieve Gabe, who had wandered into the ring thinking that the foreign object buried in the Macho Man's shorts were his eyeglasses, which he'd misplaced again. But it didn't really matter. She still had the "Kornberg Rules!" big red sponge hand to curl up to each night as she ached for the moment it would be her - not Hulk Hogan - who was on the receiving end of one of his power slams.

"Should I call someone?"

It was the clap of the ambulance bay doors, not the question, that snapped Kerry back to reality. She struggled instinctively
to her feet, turning away from Innes to head down the hall, then paused as the thought hit her.

"OK, so you want some help to make the limp more realistic?" she asked.

"Absolutely," Innes replied.

"Here," Kerry added, her crutch landing with a hollow crack just above the actress's right knee.

She was halfway down the hall, her satisfied smile growing with each clod-hopping step, when she saw who she thought was Mark whiz by on her right and around the corner. She was sure it was Mark when she turned the corner herself and had to execute one of those Dick-Van-Dyke-avoiding-the-ottoman sidesteps to avoid spearing him and the guy he had knocked over in his haste to get to Trauma 1.

She continued on, catching only the other guy's first few words as he helped Mark to his feet.

"Dr. Greene, I've been looking all over for you. I'm Anthony Edwards."



NEXT TIME ON "EMERGENCY ROOM": Mark wonders why Ted McGinley, who at least was one of the jocks in "Revenge of the Nerds," couldn't be playing him instead.