Homeless Once More, Part One
By Cathy Roberts
glroberts@bigfoot.com


Carter sagged against the doorframe of the stairwell, weary as he gazed upon the destruction that used to be a hallway.  No one was in sight, a fact that wasn't too surprising considering it was two o'clock in the morning.  But, where was Lucy Knight?  He carefully picked his way through the debris to his room, then found his tiredness turn to anger as he realized his door was ajar. 

"Dammitt, Lucy!  Don't you know how to lock a door?" 

Entering the room only made him angrier.  It wasn't in much better shape than the hallway.  He had believed Lucy when she assured him that she could handle chaperoning the Halloween party.  Just as he had believed her when she said she could do I.V.'s and other procedures.  Once again, she had made a fool of him.  He kicked at a nearby chair, then stood quiet and still because he thought he heard her voice. 

"Lucy?  Are you in here?" 

"Dr. Carter?  Please let me out of here!" 

Her voice was coming from the direction of his closet.  The door was blocked by his dresser and he pushed it out of the way and opened the door.  Lucy Knight sat on the floor of his closet, her tear stained face telling him a lot more than words ever could.  His anger at her quickly vanished, replaced by anger for the so-called adults who lived on this floor. 

He reached out a hand to her, "Come on out of there." 

She held on tight was he helped her get to her feet.  She gasped as she saw the mess that was once his room. 

"Dr. Carter, I'm so sorry about everything.  How could they do this?" she began to cry again and he led her to the bed and sat her down. 

"It'll be okay, Lucy.  I can clean this up." 

"I told them to settle down, but they wouldn't listen to me.  Then they started drinking.  I told them they couldn't do that either!  One of them just picked me up and put me in your closet.  I heard them slide something in front of it, and when I tried to open the door, I discovered I was trapped inside.  There was so much noise from that I didn't realize they were trashing your room." 

"Not just my room.  It looks as if they trashed the entire floor." 

"This is all my fault.  I should have called security or something." 

"No, Lucy.  You can't blame yourself for this.  They are all adults and know better than to behave like this.  I should have been here.  I am the R.A. and they would have had to listen to me or else risk being kicked out of the dorm.  They knew you couldn't do anything to punish them.  I never should have accepted your offer of help." 

"What's going to happen now?" 

"Right now I'm going to take you home.  First thing in the morning, the students on this floor are going to get clean-up detail." 

"Are you sure you're not angry with me?" 

"I'm sure.  I am angry though.  Right now I'm angry with a lot of people, but you're not one of them.  Come on." 

As they were on their way out the door, his telephone began to ring. 

"That's probably your father again.  Once things quieted down, I would hear the phone ring and he would leave a message on your machine.  I would yell for help, but I guess he couldn't hear me.  Are you going to get that?" 

"No.  He can just leave another message." 

"Things didn't go well at dinner, did they?"  She knew how much he had looked forward to seeing his parents earlier that evening.  That was why she had volunteered to chaperone the party - so he could visit with his mom and dad. 

"I'd prefer not to talk about dinner.  Let's get you home." 

As he shut and locked the door, the answering machine engaged.  After the beep, a very exasperated sounding Roland Carter left yet another message for his son, "Johnny, I'm really sorry about all of this.  If you're there, please pick up and talk to me.  Okay, I was wrong to do what I did, but your mother and I worry about you.  We were concerned for you.  Please call, no matter what time you get in.  I love you, son."


When Carter returned to the dorm, the destruction looked even more extensive then it had before.  He flopped on his bed, unable to even look at the mess. 

"Just like my life", he muttered.  He had thought it would be an okay day, just like all his days.  Not good, not bad.  Just okay.  He had been seeing more of Roxanne and was beginning to think that maybe she could be the person to help him get over Anna Del Amico.  He had even been looking forward to the Halloween party at the dorm.  Out of the blue his father called him.  His parents were in Chicago and they wanted to have dinner with him on the houseboat they kept out on Lake Michigan.  He hadn't seen his parents since way before the previous Christmas, but he found himself telling his dad no.  He had to chaperone that party.  Lucy Knight had been waiting for him and she immediately volunteered to chaperone the party.  The next thing John knew, he was telling his Dad that he would be there and his Dad was telling him he could even bring a date.  After he hung up with his father, he immediately phoned Roxanne.  She was eager to accept his dinner invitation, telling him that she had never been out on the Lake before.  When he picked her up, she had looked gorgeous and once she met his parents, they seemed to get along well.  His father looked well and so did his Mom, although she always had a sad look around her eyes, she was still a beautiful woman.  To John, that sad look was an ever present feature, even though it had only been there since Bobby had died.  As he watched Roxanne easily interact with his parents, he felt that this would be an evening worth remembering. 

His father asked him to go tell the Captain they were ready to head out and halfway there, John had decided to take Roxanne on a tour of the boat.  He turned around and headed back to get her.  He heard them long before they could see him.  His father was asking Roxanne questions about his finances and state of mind.  When she said that she had already told him all she knew, Roland had replied, "Roxanne, I'm paying you good money to find out what's going on in John's life.  I'm not paying you to tell me that he can't afford a decent stereo system!"  God, that had hurt!  John must have made some type of noise because they all seemed to realize he was standing there.  All three of them looked guilty and he didn't know what to say to them.  He wasn't sure he could trust himself to say anything at all.  "How could you do this to me?" was about all he could manage before he fled the boat.

Of course, Roxanne came after him, but he refused to slow down to allow her to catch up.  She must have run to catch him, because he felt her grab his arm. 

"John, you've got it all wrong," she gasped. 

He twisted out of her grasp as he turned to face her, "Do I?  Just what do I have wrong, Roxanne?  Do I have it wrong that you've been working for my father?  That you've been using me?  Spying on me?  My God, woman, you purposely hurt yourself in order to get to me!" 

"That's not true!  I really did drop that weight on my foot by accident.  I had already come up with a plan to meet you.  John, your parents hired me because they were concerned about you and they care about you!" 

"Oh yeah.  Loving parents always go around paying women to sleep with their sons!" 

He had expected a slap for that remark, but somehow she held her temper in check, even though she was now angry.  "I was never paid to do that!  As far as I know, they have no idea that we're lovers!  John, I really do like you.  I've enjoyed the times we've been together." 

"If you say so." 

"I do!  Look, your parents wanted to make sure that you were really doing okay, especially since you moved out of your apartment so suddenly." 

"It wasn't a sudden move.  The lease was up for renewal and I couldn't afford to stay there.  It happens to a lot of people.  It was never my apartment to begin with; I ended up there alone when my roommate died.  You don't need to defend my parents to me.  I know they love me, but if they were that concerned about my well-being then they should have just come home.  I needed them here, not in Europe or the Caribbean, but here, in Chicago.  You give them that report!" 

He turned away from her and hurried off, not sure of where he was going.  All he knew was that he had to get away from Roxanne and his parents.


John was startled out of his thoughts by the ringing of the telephone.  He automatically reached out for it, then stopped.  It was probably his father again and he didn't want to talk to him.  He reached over and unplugged the phone from the wall jack.  As he settled back on his bed he thought how it was a good thing he didn't have to work in the morning.  A rare day off. 

He knew he should try to get some sleep, but once more his thoughts kept getting in the way of that.  After leaving Roxanne behind on the sidewalk, he had eventually found himself outside of The Kenner Institute.  It had been about a week since he had seen Chase.  He had gone in, but it didn't take him long to remember why he hadn't been going there as often anymore.  It was a very depressing visit.  Chase had progressed to being able to say two words "John" and "Anna".  Hearing Anna's name was something he just wasn't up to right now.  Chase just couldn't seem to understand that Anna had gone away and wasn't coming back.  John kept hoping that Chase was going to get better; he prayed for that to happen every day.  But it wasn't happening.  Chase was never going to get any better and John knew it was his fault that Chase was in this condition.  If it had been another overdose victim who had gone without oxygen for that long, John would have given up the fight and allowed the person to die.  But, he wasn't able to do that with Chase.  He had pushed way too hard and revived him.  Now, the shell of a person that was once his vibrant cousin was his fault and responsibility.  A responsibility that he was finding increasingly difficult to handle.


A loud pounding at his door brought John out of a fitful sleep.  He glanced at his clock.  It was a little after eight.  At least he had gotten some sleep. 

"Coming," he called out as he got of bed and opened the door.  "Dean Walthers!" 

The Dean didn't look happy at all, not that John could blame him for that.  "Dr. Carter, are you aware that several of the students from this floor ended up spending the night in jail?" 

"No, sir.  I didn't know that." 

"They tried to call you, but they couldn't get through to you.  They didn't even get your answering machine." 

"I unplugged my phone." 

"Dr. Carter, you were supposed to supervise the party that was held here last night.  The medical school has a very strict policy regarding student drinking on campus and you allowed that policy to be violated last night.  This place is a disaster area.  Rooms are damaged, fixtures in the bathroom are broken and missing, windows have been broken.  It is apparent that you are unable to handle the responsibilities of being a Resident Advisor.  You have until noon to pack your belongings and vacate the dorm." 

"You're firing me?  I didn't wreck this place!" 

"It was your responsibility to see to it that this type of thing didn't happen.  You failed in that, Dr. Carter.  You'll also be responsible for paying for all damages done to your room, just as the students will be financially responsible for the damages they caused.  We will deduct all damages from your last paycheck.  I wouldn't not suggest that you put me down as a reference for another job.  I do not carry a high opinion of you right now.  Good day." 

The Dean walked away and John slammed the door, "Dammitt all to Hell," he yelled.  He grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be a chair, and heaved it across the room, not caring that it broke.  It was as if a dam of anger burst inside of him, and object after object followed the chair across the room.  As his stereo hit the wall, John's energy suddenly left him and he sank to his knees, crying.  How could so much have gone so wrong in the past twelve hours?  His parents had betrayed him, as had the woman he thought he could trust.  His students had behaved like animals and now he found himself homeless once more. 

He roughly wiped away his tears, "Well, there's no sense in sitting here and crying about it.  You have to pack." 

He surveyed the damage he had just done, "Well, at least I don't have too much to worry about." 

He stood and went to the closet to get his suitcases.  By noon, he had not only packed, but had also thrown out the damaged items.  All that he had was able to fit in the back of his Jeep.  Things would have to get better, he thought as he left the parking lot.  He was now getting paid by the hospital, so he should be able to save enough to get an apartment somewhere.  Maybe a room at the YMCA.  Something would turn up.  He just had to keep believing that things would get better.

Chapter Two

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