53

Sylvia

I couldn’t wait to get to work and to tell Hattie everything. I hadn’t slept all day, but I made a fresh thermos of coffee before leaving the house and drove to the burger stand on my way to work to pick up a cheeseburger for dinner. I sat in the parking lot and quickly devoured my dinner and watched as the sun smeared the sky with pink-orange smudges just before it set. When I stepped out of the car, I could already hear the crickets chirping, signaling nighttime.

I punched in and was juggling my thermos and purse and sewing bag, clomping down the hall to find Hattie, when I spotted Dr. Marshall lording over the nurse’s station with his back to me. I slowed my pace and when I approached him, the rest of the nurses scattered like birds. He swung around and said, loudly enough for everyone to hear, “You need to leave.”

Anger rolled through me and I narrowed my eyes at him. “You can’t fire me.”

He poked a hard finger in my collarbone. “If we must discuss this, then we better do it in my office.” I strained over his shoulder to try and find Hattie but she was hunched behind the station, filling out a chart; she wouldn’t meet my eyes.

In his office he slammed the door behind us and stood right in front of me, his stale, hot breath panting in my face. “I can’t believe you went behind my back and went to the police with this,” he said, trembling with rage.

“You can’t fire a person for doing what I did. For trying to do the right thing,” I spat back at him.

“Listen,” he hissed in my face, “I can’t prove it, but I know you went against my orders and stopped giving that girl her meds.”

My stomach clenched but I kept his gaze, narrowing my eyes and giving my best withering look.

“Listen, I’m just firing you, but you keep this up and I’ll find a way to prove it and you’ll lose your license. You’ll never practice nursing again.” His bald head was splotchy-red with anger and I felt like the office was shrinking so I shot him one last hard look before turning to the door and leaving that basement forever.