Epilogue #2
I don’t know what I was expecting to see in the waiting area, but I’m taken aback by the quantity and variety of creatures who have shown up in search of medical care.
Among them are a family of gnomes, a carbuncle curled up in one of the chairs, a man whose leashed dog has glowing red eyes, and what appears to be a werewolf stuck mid-shift.
I look at Ryder helplessly. Ryder shrugs.
“Knock ‘em dead?” he says with a smile.
I sigh and open the file in my hand. “Daniel Park?” I call out into the noisy room.
A frazzled-looking woman and a young child stand from their seats and hurry over. They look like perfectly healthy Quotidians and seem so normal compared to the chaos in the rest of the waiting area that I have to wonder if they might be in the wrong place.
“You… don’t look like a cryptid,” I say to the boy. “Are you Daniel, pet?”
The child opens his mouth to answer, but instead of words, a waterfall of bright, multicolored liquid comes pouring out like fluorescent vomit, dissolving into glittery dust before it hits the floor.
I blink once, then smile gently at him. “Seems like you’ve learned a very important lesson about not disturbing Pixies, haven’t you?”
The boy nods fervently, squeezing his mother’s hand.
“Can you help him?” she asks worriedly.
“Yes, it’s quite an easy fix,” I assure her as I hold open the door leading to the exam area, “I was about his age when I learned that lesson myself.”
As I watch Senán disappear into an exam room with his first patient, I smile to myself. Underneath all the snarky comments and intimidating glares, Senán really does love to care for others. He’s good at it. And I love seeing him in a position to do that without having to hide his skills.
And, for what it’s worth, he still takes some energy work clients on his off days. Contrary to what popular media will tell you, a lot of sex workers actually like their jobs.
I feel good about all the things Senán is doing, about the work that we’re doing—me, him, and Nix, together.
I sigh proudly and stroll into Nix’s office, iced coffee in hand, ready to dive in head-first on my first real day in the medical field.
“So,” I say, “what’s my job? How can I help you guys? ”
Nix barely looks up from her laptop to answer me. “Those boxes are all case files the FWS sent over. You can come up with a filing system for them.”
I look down at the stacks of dozens of cardboard boxes crammed with medical files, then at the eight yet-to-be-assembled filing cabinets still sealed in their shipping packages. “Right. Filing. Got it.”
My tone makes Nix look up. “Look, I know a desk job isn’t what you had in mind—”
I cut her off with a wave of my hand. “I wanna support you guys in what you’re doing here,” I say as I kneel on the floor.
“And if that means filing paperwork and assembling furniture, then…” I trail off, unsure how to spin the end of that thought.
I settle for a thumbs up gesture and pick up the first of many boxes.
“You sure you wouldn’t rather go back to the public sector?” Nix asks. “FWS is clearly overwhelmed, and I’m sure that Paige would put in a good word if you want to apply for an FBI position.”
I shake my head. “I’d rather spend the rest of my days alphabetizing forms and making copies than sell my soul back to the US Government.” It sounds a little more dramatic than I think I intended it to be, but it’s still true.
The room is quiet for a few minutes, the sound of cellophane and Styrofoam packaging filling the space, before Nix pipes up again. “He asked me something weird,” she says. “Charlie, at the FWS, when I talked to him this weekend.”
“Oh yeah?” I say, not one to turn down conversation while performing mindless labor.
“He asked me if we have a mobile clinic.”
That makes me pause. “Mobile clinic?”
“Yeah, mobile. He told me that for every case that comes to them for help, there’s two more that can’t. Location and travel and whatnot.”
“Huh.” I continue with my task, organizing parts and pieces in preparation for assembling them into a whole. I think I know what she’s getting at, but it’s probably best to let her lead to keep from getting my hopes up.
“And, I mean, I told him we’re only one office, with just three of us here. We can’t send our only medically-trained employee out wandering around the country.”
“Right…”
“So, I just think, y’know. It’s a shame there aren’t any other Witches available for this stuff. Ones that could maybe work closely with Senán to learn how to provide that kind of care.”
I stare at the booklet of assembly instructions that I don’t need.
I haven’t told her yet. It’s not that I’m trying to hide it from her—I’m just still coming to terms with it myself.
So I can’t tell her that there is a Witch available, one who is already learning the tricks of the trade.
Because Senán is teaching me Magick, but I haven’t learned anything impressive, and even though it’s clear to both me and Senán that I am most definitely 100% a Witch, there’s still some part of me that doesn’t feel like I really am one, not yet.
There’s some part of me that wants to be able to prove myself before I tell anybody.
I swallow my thoughts. “Yeah, shame,” I say, and return to my task.
Nix is silent behind me for several seconds before she closes her laptop and stands from her desk. “Total shame,” she agrees as she crosses behind me. “I’m gonna grab a bagel, I haven’t had breakfast… also, your coffee’s levitating.”
I look to my right and, just as I realize that my dirty chai latte is, indeed, floating a foot and a half off the floor, it suddenly drops out of the air as though it’s just been let go of.
“Shit!” I exclaim as sugary liquid and ice spill all over the carpet.
Nix is already gone, leaving me alone with my unruly telekinesis and tea-splattered scrubs.
And, even with the mess, even with my very obvious ineptitude in the field, even with the litany of obstacles already in the way, I’m sitting here wondering whether a converted van or a customized trailer would make more sense to house a mobile clinic.
I’m pricing used school buses before the day is out.