Puppets

Posted on Sat Jan 2nd, 2021 @ 4:07pm by Lieutenant Commander Carolyn Corrigan MD
Edited on on Sat Jan 9th, 2021 @ 10:46am

1,284 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Episode 108 – Tragedies, Fortunes, and an Endgame
Location: Medical Bay, SB400.
Timeline: MD1, 1630 hours

"I don't believe, that I have ever seen anything so surreal as classic literature performed by sock puppets..."

Contemplating the festive performance he had just witnessed, Doctor William Corrigan stood as the room emptied and the chatter of the audience faded into the distance. The stage was no in darkness, the 'cast' safely returned to their beds after accepting the rapturous applause of their audience. "Although I have to say, it was quite enjoyable," he added.

Standing, he began to pull on his coat, his eyes taking in the decorations that lined the walls. Most were clearly pictures made by patients, but he saw far more expert touches too. Stepping closer he tilted his head as he studied one aspect in particular, a small smile playing on his lips.

"I remember seeing this before," he mused, examining the unicorn. "And of your sister being blamed for drawing it on several of your grandmother's walls..."

Climbing to her feet, feigning innocence, Carolyn moved towards the door. "I have no idea what you are talking about," she lied. While her sister had gone through a phase of creating 'art' on any surface she could reach, she was never especially good at it. It certainly hadn't been Carolyn's fault that her grandmother had made assumptions. Of course, Carolyn had never owned up either. But then Jayne had torn a page from her favourite book so in her mind, it had evened the score.

"Shall we?" she urged, "our table is booked."

She had, naturally, considered arranging for a fake 'emergency' that would allow her to escape the hours which would follow. Or to request a reassignment to the darkest deepest regions of space. But no. Running from problems did nothing and if he were here, she knew Harris would be urging her to at least listen.

Or maybe he'd be more inclined to open an airlock. Given who his father was...

They made their way in relative silence to the Promenade. Her father asked a few questions here and there, mostly about the station and the medical facilities, just to avoid the silence becoming too much. All in all it was awkward. As if it was two strangers, polar opposites being forced to co-exist.

At the restaurant she passed up the chance of a window seat and the potential host of distractions it would give, opting for more privacy at a table at the very back of the room. The waitress was happy to oblige and if he was suspicious of it, her father said nothing.

Taking a drink order, the waitress moved off to let them decide on food. "I never had quite the same love of Italian food as you and your brother," her father observed as he studied the menu. "You got that from your mother."

"Oh..." Carolyn frowned. She had not been out to dinner with her father often. And it had been years. Now that she thought about it, she realised she had erred. "I'm sorry. We can settle up and go somewhere else...?"

"Don't be ridiculous," he chided. "They do some steak, that will do nicely. Besides, what's important is that you can find something you enjoy eating."

Her eyes narrowed but she let it slide. In part because the waitress chose that moment to return, offering a welcome distraction.

With a bright smile she set down their drinks and took the food order. "Your food will be right out, Just let me know if you need anything else," she reminded them before retreating again.

"I imagine this is one benefit to not being on a starship," her father commented as he gestured to the room and then the Promenade beyond. "I noticed an art gallery as well."

"Yes. Most of the shop owners are back now and the Promenade is almost like it was," Carolyn agreed.

"I noticed a chocolatier," he added.

"An amazing one at that," Carolyn enthused.

"You always had a sweet tooth," her father smiled, sipping his wine. "No matter where we tried to hide them, you would always find them."

"I had some help."

"Yes, your brother," her father nodded as he set down his glass. "Always into something or other. I admit I find it difficult to reconcile all of you with the children I remember covered in soot from climbing up chimneys."

"I was five and we had to know who could climb the highest," she countered.

"And who could break the most bones?"

"That was because I saw the spider and then I slipped," she shrugged. "Fortunately, there are no chimneys here."

"Hardly the safest environment though," he pointed out before holding up a hand, "simply an observation. I am impressed with the medical department here. Quite remarkable. Far different from the small general practice I have to watch over. I can see the appeal. When I was your age I was much the same mind as you but when we decided to settle down and have a family... well, the practice simply made more sense. And your mother had such a way with people."

"She did," Carolyn agreed after a moment. She did not know where, if anywhere, he was going with this.

"I miss her, very much," William admitted, shifting in his seat. "And she would be so ashamed of this... this distance between us. No, not ashamed. Furious!
She had quite the temper at times. Put the fear of God into me more than once. And she had little time for your grandmother. She saw the world so much better than I did."

Carolyn took a long drink of water. "I miss her too."

"I never made the decisions I made to hurt you," he added. "All of those times I was told by your doctors that I should just let you go. But I was too much of a coward to face burying my child. As your father, I thought it was my duty to give any hope of surviving that I could.

Even then, I know I made that choice but then retreated from the repercussions of it. All of the surgeries, rehabilitation, the pain of it all. To me, I just saw your strength and determination as you got better. As you defied all expectations. I chose not to think of what it was actually like to survive something so horrific. And I thought I had done right. What a father should do.

But then when you said it would be best to let your mother go, I was so furious. It felt hypocritical. For if I had done that, been reasonable and logical and... cold! Well, you could not have been standing there saying such a thing. Especially not about your own mother. I am ashamed of what I said to you. Out of all of us, you were perhaps thinking the clearest. You saw she could be free and happy. And I was not ready to let her go."

Carolyn frowned. "Are you dying?"

"What?!"

"All of this... you have never been one to be so -" she struggled to find the right word.

He actually laughed, "quite. But rather like the story your sock puppets told so well, finally saying goodbye to your mother and hearing some harsh home truths from your nana has given me a lot to think about."

"Clearly."

"All I ask," William added as the food arrived, "is that we can talk. Not even tonight. Or tomorrow. I am here for a couple of days at least. But I do not want you to feel pressured. I just want a chance to try and make amends."

She was quiet for a long moment. "I'll try."

"That's all I ask."



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