Chapter
21:
Code
Blue and Jedi Too
It was exactly 3:33 a.m. when nurse Tricia Tibbles heard the
familiar “wheeeeee-ooooooo, wheeeeee-ooooooo” of an ambulance pulling into the
ambulance bay outside the Emergency Room at Orlando General Hospital.
“Is this the high profile case that’s coming in?” she asked her
colleague, Dr. Tami Flue.
“Yes,” answered Dr. Flue in a grave whisper. “It’s AJ McLean, one of the Backstreet
Boys. According to the call, he
collapsed at a bar and is suffering from suspected alcohol poisoning.”
“Oh no!” Tricia gasped, contorting her mouth into an expression of
horror. But when Dr. Flue was not
looking, she grinned maliciously. One of the Backstreet Boys, is it? And hm, too much to drink? That would make for a big story if the
tabloids got wind of it, she thought, the wheels in her mind already
turning as she began to plot and scheme.
“Come on, Tibbles, the paramedics are bringing him in now,” said
Dr. Flue, springing to action. Tricia
obediently sprang to action right behind her.
“Hey, you two might want to stop springing around here. I just washed the floor; it’s still wet,”
warned janitor Charlene Chavez, otherwise known as “Chacha” (not because she
was the best dancer at Orlando General, just because her first and last name
both started with “Cha”… although she did still have the worst reputation. After expulsion from med school and a brief
stint in rehab, she’d finally managed to get a job in the “housekeeping”
department at the hospital and spent her days mopping up blood, vomit, and
other bodily fluids, and… well, I guess this really isn’t that important… so
never mind.)
Hardly acknowledging Chacha’s warning, Dr. Flue and Tricia hurried
to meet the paramedics at the entrance to the ER. Tricia looked down at the stretcher they were
wheeling to see that Dr. Flue had been right; it was indeed the Backstreet Boy
AJ McLean. He was unconscious, his skin
a deathly pale shade of ashy, pasty, chalky, ghost/paper
whitish-gray.
“Trauma 2,” Dr. Flue directed, and as
she and Tricia helped the paramedics roll AJ there, they recited his vital
signs. “Patient is unconscious and in
respiratory distress, pulse is weak, BM 80%, BLT 40/70, extreme LC, KUI and KAK
both low…” (Of course, most of this is
just made up gibberish that sounds similar to what they say on ER a lot… cause
come on, boppers don’t research anything, they just guess.)
They had just hooked AJ up to all of the medical gizmos and
gadgets that would need to be in place by the time the other Backstreet Boys
came to visit, in order to have a good description about how lost AJ looked
amidst the mass of wires and tubes, etc., when the line on the heart monitor
went flat.
“Code Blue!” called Dr. Flue.
If only they knew what was to come…
***
Meanwhile, in that very same hospital, just in a different ward,
the other four Backstreet Boys sat in the waiting room while Ali, Nikki,
Taylor, and Safyre visited Praline. Over
the intercom, they heard the call, “Code Blue in ER Trauma 2. Code Blue in ER Trauma 2.”
Brian sat up straight, putting his hand over his heart, just as
Howie gasped.
“What??” Nick and Kevin cried in unison.
“AJ!” came Brian and Howie’s panicked reply.
“Huh?” said Nick.
“The Code Blue in the ER,” Brian whispered. “It’s AJ!”
“How do you know?” Kevin demanded.
“The Lord told me,” replied Brian.
“Did He tell you too, Howie?”
“No…” Howie said slowly. “I
just knew. AJ’s my best friend – we just
have that connection, I guess.” He
shrugged. “I guess it’s kind of like
Jedi using The Force in Star Wars.”
Nick eyed Howie suspiciously.
“Wait… are you saying you and AJ are really Darth Vader’s long lost twin
sons?”
“No… I’m saying AJ’s down in the ER dying right now.”
“Oh, good cause I would have been hella pissed if you two had Jedi
powers and never told us!” Nick retorted.
“Shut up, Nick. We have to
get down to the ER before it’s too late!” cried Kevin, leaping to his
feet. The other Boys followed suit,
jumping up and sitting back down, busting a quick and slick pop-locking move,
then jumping back up again and sprinting from the room.
If only they knew what was to come…
***
