Makarovia! Yes, I Know Where That is! Sophomore Year - 82. Just A Marriage?

Just A Marriage?

After sleeping in our not round bed, I was waking and saw sunlight shining through those small windows. Those small windows had several reasons. They protected us from invasion and weapon fire and it helped to keep heat in. Letting in light from the sun was very low on the list for priorities; if that was on it at all. I wondered how much firewood, torches, and candles were used. In the winter, days would past and the sun could barely be seen. I could see enough to guess the approximate time of day.

I heard someone's breathing change and the arm around me tighten its hold on me, re-enforcing my security with our relationship. I looked at my watch and it told me it close to nine in the morning. We seldom use alarm clocks unless we had to be at class or meeting someone early in the morning. That didn't happen for the past two weeks.

“Olek's getting married in four to five hours,” I said.

Peter stretched a little to wake up. “What time is it?”

“Eight fifty-two.”

Peter brought me closer and groaned. “I guess we need to get up,” He sighed. “We need tell Olek and Yuri about Cosmo. They need to call the hospital in Athens.”

I nodded, “There is an hour difference there. It's seven fifty-two in Greece.”

“Okay,” Peter said, wonder in his voice why that's important.

“Morning rounds?” I suggested as a hint, “Doctors go around and check with patients and check for any change in their health, both good and bad.”

I was pulled flat and Peter slid on top of me. He manually pinned my arms in place, “Okay, I know you had some deaths and learned from experience, but you know a Hell of a lot more you could get by observation and caregiving a few people. You’ve done it.”

“I told you,” I grinned. “I seriously considered Psychiatry. That requires a medical degree.”

“You did say that,” Peter nodded, “but you describe procedures, injuries, and illness like you more the saw it, but did them! Yourself!”

I laughed, “Some I did. I got blood pressures and temperatures for those doctors for their rounds. ”

I saw Peter's eyes widen, “You did.” He said to confirm.

“Yes, me!” I shook my head, “By my junior year of high school. I was seriously considering getting my medical doctor degree. Grandpa had died and this was before my mother was terminally diagnosed.” I shrugged, “That year I was a volunteer after class and on the weekends. I was in Central Supply. I delivered a lot things like ted-hose for compressing the legs, foley catheters and sterilized prewrapped packages for some surgical utensils...” We were speaking Makarovian and as I said before, the medical procedures and things used the same words.

“You were allowed to put in catheters?”

“Not that year,” I answered. “I was allowed to watch with the patient's permission.” I smiled. “I caught the attention of an attending doctor,” I looked at Peter. “Do you know what an attending is?”

Peter nodded, “He or she is in charge of individual patients and their care.”

“That's right,” I smiled. “He is the nicest man.” I shook my head. “He is from the Netherlands and he had an accent making him hard to understand at times. I never had any trouble.”

Peter tilted his head but looked suspecting something else. “Why do I sense you've left something out?”

“I had a crush on him,” I confessed.

“How old was he?”

“He was in his late thirties and early forties,” I answered, “but no, we didn't do anything. He was married!”

“So?”

“I was not going to be the other person in his life! He was a good looking man. Dr. Jon Donkervoet.” I shrugged, “He seemed to like what I did at the hospital and had me enrolled as a trainee where credits were earned that could transfer to college. He insisted I have a job there.” I shrugged, “My senior year I had a job after school and weekends.”

“They allowed you to do those things there?”

I nodded, “It was part of the Medical University and a teaching hospital. I did things with supervision, so nothing invasive.”

“You put a catheter up dicks! T hat's not invasive?”

I laughed, “Well, technically, it is internal, but...you have three holes; your mouth, penis, and anus with a long tube that joins them. You absorb nutrients as food passes through and gets rid what is waste the same way and released using the other holes, but in reverse. When I put in a catheter, I wasn't piercing the skin. Then it would have been invasive.”

“Okay,” Peter said cautiously. “You've never done anything invasive.”

“And, God forgive me,” I shook my head, “but guys were so easy. You simply a tube up his tube.” I shrugged. “Women were harder for me.”

Peter grinned, “Why?”

I shuttered, “I…” I began. “I’ll say this, if I had any doubts about my sexuality; that would have confirmed it. I do not like vaginas. But get this! When it began to circulate I was gay, I started to get requests from staff to put them in!” I shrugged. “I could do it and quickly to not have to look at it. The staff said who better to do than someone who doesn’t like them? I was safe!”

Peter nodded with a chuckle, “I can understand that.”

I shrugged, “There was Phlebotomy...” Again, the word was so similar. He knew what I said.

“You took blood from a vein.”

“Many times,” I said and thought. “I don’t believe a day went by I didn’t do it.”

“Supervised,” Peter asked to qualify.

“At first,” I nodded. “It's not that difficult.” Then a memory came. “That's also when my mother was diagnosed with cancer.”

“You said you stayed to help care for her,” Peter said. “You have knowledge and talent for medicine and you seem love it. What happened?”

The uneasy discomfort of memories and unpleasant feelings came back and I watched Peter's face lose his normal expression. “When Dad died, I was a kid. I spent many hours at the hospital. I didn't really understand what was happening. His death wasn't quick. He got this...infection...after he was being treated for a head injury.”

“You don't have to tell me,” Peter said softly.

I nodded, “I do. You're my husband.” I swallowed louder than I usually do. “The infection was Meningitis, the inflammation of the membrane that covers the brain and spinal cord?” Peter nodded, so I went on, “His head injury did crack open the skull, but could be treated for that. I found out later it was the viral version of Meningitis. Meaning he got it from someone who was a caregiver there who didn't wash their hands after going to the bathroom and had a bowel movement! His head was bandaged so not exposed. It's the only way he could have gotten it.”

Peter's eyes widened again as he quickly crossed himself, “Jesus Christ!!” Peter would say damn, Hell, and occasionally shit. Never had he said that. It was a prayer. “He shouldn't be dead!”

I shook my head, “No, he shouldn't. They gave him medicines to stop it.” I shook my head, “All that did was prolong his death. It took three weeks for him to die.” I took a breath. “A few years later of us., Grandpa drops. Dead. That one was quick. When Mom got cancer, at first I kept going with my schedule. Even with Grandma's help it was just too much.” I saw my vision blur a little and tears were coming. “I began to hate that hospital and medicine.”

Peter's eyes were reddening, “I am so sorry.” He released my arms and hugged me.

“I just wanted to escape death,” I confessed. “Medicine would put it back in my life. I couldn't do it anymore. No death is easy on anyone. I've had a sudden death, quicker death, and a lingering death. They all hurt.”

Peter didn't say it will be alright and other trite things. Those weren’t comforting. He was there.

It was almost ten in the morning when we arrived in the dining area. Olek and Helga were sipping coffee having finished eating. Everybody else went to start their day.

“I was starting to worry,” Helga said.

“I told Peter about some tough moments in the past,” I said a little sadly. “About the deaths of my parents and grandparents.”

Olek with sympathy, “Is everything alright?”

I nodded, “Yes. I promise to tell you, but there is something you should know about Cosmo.”

“First,” Peter smiled, “we need coffee.”

Our coffees were gotten and two steaming plates were placed in front of us.

Once we had told Olek and Helga about the possible complications with Cosmo, Olek was nodding toward the end.

“Of course,” Olek stated. “Cosmo will stay here until he can return to work. No questions.” He thought a moment. “Mikell has a certified copy of the Power of Attorney with him. I'll talk with Yuri. We should have the original here on file in the Security Office.” He smiled. “We can call it in about an hour from now.”

Peter chuckled, “Just don't forget; you're getting married today.”

Olek grinned, “I'll forget my head before I forgetting that.” He looked at Helga. “It's really a formality today.”

“But it can be more than that,” I argued. “You are about to do something you've never done, Olek.” I looked at Helga, “I don't really know about your split with your ex-husband, but might be gratifying if he is shown who he lost,” I shrugged. “Every little girl I know wishes to be a princess and have a big, fancy, magical fairytale wedding and I know there will be a wedding in about a year,” I squinted an eye and pointed at her, “but you; won't become a princess. You'll be a Queen!”

Helga chuckled, “The person would pay good money to see is Marg's reaction. She is my ex-mother-in-law.”

“Gosh,” Olek said in perfect English and then back to Makarovian and added sarcastically, “A son's mother doesn't like his wife. I've never heard of such a thing.”

“Oh, she more than just didn't like me,” Helga laughed at the absurdity. “That woman loathed me! No one was good enough for Kent.”

“You have a doctorate's degree!” I said, “And there's just a few women that can hold a candle to you in beauty,” I paused, “Mom could, but you're both stunning!” I pressed my hand to my own chest. “I'm gay and if I can see it, she should have! You're beauty and brains!! What more could she want?”

Helga smiled and nodded, “Thank you. There is one thing in particular she wanted. Control! Control of Kent and she tried with me. That wouldn't work.”

I nodded smiling, “Because you are both German!”

“What!?” Olek asked sort of smiling. “Why does that mean anything?”

I wasn't bothered at all and explained, “Germans are known to be inflexible and once in place takes a lot to get them to move. They stay.”

Olek chuckled, “Who told you that?”

“A German-American,” I answered instantly. “Karla.” I grinned. “I'm sure there are some agents that would be willing to find her and slap her for you.”

Helga was smiling more. “That is tempting, but Karla is an American, right?” Helga stated to clarify.

I nodded, “Yes, she was born in America,” Raising that finger to make a point. “She was. Her parents met and married in Berlin. They were Germans. Karla's father mother and came to the United States on a student visas to go to school.” I looked at them. “Do you know the term anchor baby? That was Karla.”

Two pair of eyes just stared at me.

I chuckled, “Any child born on American soil is a citizen. They used Karla to stay in the United States. Making Karla the anchor that allow them to stay.”

Olek nodded, “That makes sense.”

I scowled looking at Peter, “See what I mean? There is always too many damned rabbits!”

“Rabbits??” Helga responded baffled. “What...”

“Should I have said hasenpfeffer?” I asked.

“Peppered rabbit!?” Helga was thinking and then smiled, “Do you mean hase?”

“Do I?” I asked looking from Olek to Peter, “I was thought that was the German word for rabbit.”

Helga shook her head laughing, “It is, but usually it has to be cooked and pepper added to be hasenpfeffer.”

“Who taught you that word?” Olek asked.

“From a great instructor,” I said grandly, “I'm sure I mentioned this before. The one and only...Bugs Bunny!”

Helga now had tears in her eyes as now. The laughter got louder. Olek was laughing hard now holding his side as if they would burst or drop off. You may already know about good humor and health. I did that for the niece or nephew that was coming. Laughter is the best medicine. It will reduce pain, sharpen your mind, and strengthens the family.

And is there anyone who doesn't know who that famous rabbit? You might not know if you've never seen a television. The developed countries had TVs everywhere. Bugs was translated into many languages for people that can't understand English to be enjoyed.

“Damn it,” I said, “and we're doing it again!!”

Peter snickered, “It means a new topic comes up like rabbits from their hole and begin to persue the new topic and lose the first one.”

Again, there was that nod and two long “oooh.”

“Where was I?”

“We talked about Bugs, because we talked about of Mr. Fluffy Long-ears.” I remembered, but this more fun. I was doing it for the baby. A happy mother is a healthy mother. Comedy was almost always welcome.

Peter leaned toward me and said, “The marriage?”

“Yes!” I brightened, “Don't be like my great-grandmother and great-grandfather.” I indicated with my hand going from one side to the other “She was Dad's side of the family.”

“The bootleggers?” Peter grinned.

“That was only for family and close friends.” I shot back.

Peter nodded, “And how many friends were made after they knew about...” he thought a second, “What do you call it? Moonshine?”

“It goes by many names! And you are scaring another rabbit up. Stop it.” I looked back as Olek and Helga were still chuckling. “She married my great-grandfather at thirteen. She gave birth to her first child at fourteen.” I hurried on. “They had a judge or preacher to perform the marriage in the front yard of the house he built on the family's land. They had witnesses, but guess what happened next.” No one was answering the question. “The witnesses go home and the preacher to someone else. Great-grandmother went in to make both their lunch.”

“How old was your grandfather?” Helga asked. “She was thirteen!?”

“Seventeen and in two months turned eighteen.” I grinned. I grew up hearing those tales they swore were true. I'll just direct you to the fish story that grows bigger as it's told. “Many of the families married each other which made hard to find anyone we weren't related to us. When you did, you married them. Quickly. Before they get away.”

“What year was this?” Olek asked.

“Nineteen-twelve,” I smiled. “We shouldn't just go back to our routine. A marriage is a life altering event.” I looked at Helga.

“Why don't we go to the Grotto?” Peter asked. “It's in a secluded area, but there will be hundreds of people there.”

“Have you ever been?” I asked.

Olek used a phrase when he learns he missed something, “I've been busy!”

“Don't make me get Mom involved,” Peter said.

There was a puzzled look from Helga.

I pointed at Olek while looking at Helga, “He didn't tell you?”

“A year ago,” Peter began. “He had never taken time off for even a weekend in years. Mom, Eric, and I practically had to force him to take a week off!”

“I know she'll side with us,” I said. “We don't have to give a reason we go, but I wish to. This isn't a typical day.”

“Fine,” Olek nodded, then suddenly pointing at Peter. “She and Mario go, as well.”

We returned to our room and quickly sent emails I said I would. Email is one of the greatest things! And don't forget Word processing! I typed out a letter and simply hit “send.” I texted all our agents to meet us to go to the Grotto. It didn't take long for me to get messages back. They were all coming.