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Re: The Call Goes Out [message #90 is a reply to message #21] Sun, 22 July 2012 16:39 Go to previous messageGo to previous message
Tikatu is currently offline  Tikatu
Messages: 813
Registered: April 2012
Location: South Carolina
Karma:
Field Commander
Ubiquitous one
Monday 6 February. 6.43 a.m. Tracy Aerospace Medical Base, Kansas.

The whine of distant aircraft mingled with the whistle of the wind as it swirled glittering snow crystals across the parking lot. Dominic pulled back the light, cottony curtains and squinted out, his breath misting on the glass. It took all his willpower not to draw something silly in the white film. Outside, the sun had reached the midpoint of its daily journey, and only thin wisps of cloud streaked the intense blue sky.

The laminate floor was cold, and his feet squeaked as he walked out of his bedroom, freshly showered and shaved. The scent of toast greeted him as he wandered into the small kitchen area. Mmm, breakfast. Well, lunch is more correct, I guess, he thought. As he opened the fridge door to get some juice, the familiar clicking of a laptop keyboard drew his attention.

"Morning," he said as he reached for a glass.

The early afternoon sunlight glinted off Tom Hawkins's round glasses as he flashed Dominic a smile. Dominic's half-brother, a freelance magazine writer, Tom was trying to build up a good enough reputation to make it big.

"Good morning, Dak," the blond said cheerfully as he resumed his typing, the laptop balanced on his crossed legs. "There's breakfast, or lunch - whatever - made for you."

Dominic smiled at the nickname and nodded his thanks. He took a gulp of juice, picked up the plate Tom had left for him on the kitchen counter and flopped down on the sofa across from him.

"You got in later than usual this morning," Tom said, looking up from the monitor for the briefest of moments.

"An emergency case came in fifteen minutes before my shift ended. An early morning flight test went wrong," Dominic said, and took a bite of toast. "We were operating on him for about an hour; fitting a DHS."

"DHS?" Tom asked.

"Sorry, a dynamic hip screw." At Tom's still-confused expression, Dominic clarified. "It's like a prosthetic hip. Poor guy."

"Ah, I see. Well, Joshua was fine all night, and this morning."

"Good." Dominic wiped a few crumbs from his lips and took another drink. "I can't believe he's going to be three in December. It seems like just yesterday he was a screaming baby," he said with a lopsided smile.

Tom barked a laugh and peered over his glasses at some of his shorthand notes.

"Three? Joshua's only just turned two, Dak." He chuckled. "I remember the first time you and Mags brought him around. My ears still haven't recovered." They laughed. After a moment, he peered across at his brother. "How is she, anyway?"

Dominic shrugged and set his plate aside. Margaret Houston was his ex-girlfriend, a doctor, and the mother of his son. She had put work above family and left six months after the child's birth.

"I don't know. I haven't heard from her in months. Once she left for Boston Mercy, I knew she would never come back."

They sat in silence for a few moments, only the clicking of Tom's keyboard and the crows cawing from outside. Eventually, Dominic stood and cleared away his dishes. He glanced at his watch: one-thirty. It was time to pick up Joshua.

***

It was nearing little Joshua's bedtime when the letter came. Dominic was sitting on the floor of the apartment, colourful building blocks strewn around him and was watching as his young son built a progressively taller tower.

"Good boy!"

The child's bright blue eyes sparkled as he gave his father a huge grin, and then went back to his blocks. The door knocked, and Dominic ruffled the child's hair before going to answer it.

"Special delivery for a Mr D. A. Kelly," the young man said. He held out a letter and a clipboard, and Dominic signed for it.

"Thanks," he said, his brows knitted in confusion.

This is odd, Dom thought as he ripped the envelope open. Who sends me priority mail? He pulled out the short letter and his eyes widened as he read the writer's name.

Dear Mr Kelly,

Your application for a position on my personal medical staff has been successfully accepted. We have set up an interview for you on Wednesday February 8, 2068. If there is a problem, please send a reply to the return address. Otherwise, a representative of mine will meet you at the terminal entrance of the Tracy Industries Airbase, Kansas.

You are free to bring your son.

Sincerely,

Jeff Tracy,
CO Tracy Industries

Dominic gaped at the letter. Yes, he had sent away an application, but he had never expected to get a reply! He laughed and re-read the letter. Joshua looked over and smiled at his father's joy. Dominic picked him up and swung him around; the child giggled and clapped his hands.

"Da!" He said.

"That's right, Jak! Daddy might be getting a new job!"

Post by ArtisticRainey on 01/06/2004

Jeff heartbeat Dianne plain My IR:TNP OTP!

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