Right Through Me

O N E

"Señorita Lina! Señorita Lina!"

Lina's days always started off like this.

"Yes? Yes? What happened?" she asked, examining the groaning little boy in the old woman's hands.

"Oh Díos Mío!" the old woman wailed, more tears running down her face than the little boys. "Senorita, he just collapsed! He was playing--Oh Díos Mío!"

"Come," Dr. Lina said ushering them towards one of the examination rooms. "Leslie, check in the next patients. Give them drinks for the wait," she said turning towards the young Medical Assistant intern. Leslie nodded, her dark brown ponytail whipping as she did so, and turned to head towards the front desk of the small clinic.

Lina headed to the back, shutting the door behind her as the old woman began to rock the little boy in her arms, still crying loudly and praying to God. Lina approached them, giving the woman a reassuring nod.

"I need to check his heart beat," she said calmly, placing a comforting hand on the old lady's slim, boney shoulder. The woman nodded, sniffling heavily as she adjusted the little boy in her arms.

Lina placed the stethoscope in her ears and tucked the end under the boy's thin shirt, pressing lightly down on his chest above his heart and listening intently. The heartbeat was there, it was quiet and slow but it was there. Pulling away, Lina placed a gentle hand on the boy's forehead; fever.

"He needs some fluids," Lina began, a big smile stretching across her face. "He'll be just fine. It's most likely a cold and with him playing—as you said—he most likely got dehydrated. A nurse will be in here to hook him up. I'll be back in twenty minutes to check on him."

The woman let out a loud prayer to God and, instead, began crying tears of joy. Smiling softly, Lina exited the room.

"We need an IV hooked up to a young boy, room three," She told Amanda, one of the LPN's, and headed back to the front of the clinic to call back the next patient.

"Gerard!" Lina gasped, smiling at the old man who sat in the full lobby. "What happened now?" She asked, smiling at him as he stood and hobbled over to give her a hug.

"Oh—Lina," he began, smiling so brightly. "I fell, twisted my wrist. It was hurting a while ago but seeing you made the pain all go away," he said, his smile widening.

"Oh, goodness," Lina began, examining the old man's wrinkly and bruised wrist. She held his hand and slowly moved his wrist, every other movement causing a hiss to escape the mans lips. "Just a sprain. But, to be sure, I'll have Mia do an X-Ray. I'll be back after I see your results to wrap you up," she explained, smiling happily at him as he followed Mia down the hall.

"Okay," she began, turning back towards the full Lobby, every patient looking up at her. "Who's next?"

* * * * *

"Oh, gosh," Lina groaned, flopping back in the leather chair behind the front desk. Mia, Leslie and Amanda all sat in chairs of their own, dead-beat tired after the long shift.

"I don't know how you do it, Lina," Amanda began, logging out of the computers and shutting them down. "We easily go through dozens of patients everyday and you—you help every single one of them. You're very popular in town."

"Yeah, seriously. You're like the Guardian Angel of Araville," Leslie commented, letting her long brown hair down and gathering her work bag.

"I just...help people," Lina said simply, smiling softly. "I like helping people."

"You've got a pure soul, Lina. Not many people have that in Araville," Mia said. "See you Monday," they waved, exiting through the front, leaving Lina to stand there, alone and tired.

Sighing deeply, Lina did her final run through and gathered her things and locked the front door. The clinic was her home, literally. She owned the entire building, the first floor being the entirety of her little clinic with only three exam rooms, an X-Ray room and a room for light procedures. The second floor was her house, fit with a tiny kitchen, one bedroom, one bathroom and a cozy little living room; the perfect size for her.

After she locked the front and back door, she headed upstairs to her home and locked that door too. She sat her bag down by the door and removed her doctor coat, hanging it up, and shuffling over to her couch. She reached over and turned on the TV, the screen flashing with the bright view of the Gladiators, the fights.

Not finding the motivation to change the channel, she watched quietly, inspecting the two men that were fighting. At the bottom of the screen flashed the two names of the fighters and a picture of each. Scott Ivanov against Donovan Ander. They were both large men, rippled with nothing but pure muscle and layers of sweat, drops of blood on each.

Lina could see it right away, as if she was sitting there in the crowd, the much bigger man, Donovan, wasn't tired. He was acting. Scott Ivanov, on the other hand, was limping around the cage, breathing heavily, his left eye already swollen shut and clearly tired.

He's playing him.

With that thought in mind, Donovan landed a crushing blow to Scott's jaw and, involuntarily, Lina turned the TV off, sickened at the sight.

"So much for watching TV," she mumbled to herself quietly, standing up and heading towards her bedroom.