I knew screaming in a mental hospital was frowned upon. Yet, when I saw the brown metal broom handle in my bathroom, I couldn’t keep the noise from blaring out. Thinking quickly, I shoved my hand over my mouth.
I reminded myself that I was a professional. So I shut my lips beneath my grip. Then I took ten slow, deep breaths. I looked out the bathroom door to see if anyone was coming into my room. The hallway was empty. Good. They must have figured my half-scream had been on television.
The damn broom handle glared at me.
Attached was a yellow Post-it note. Wanna bee next?
I didn’t think they meant the flying insect. I also don’t think the note writer meant anything good was about to happen.
I stared at the broom handle a few seconds, then stood silently. There. I could remove my hand now. As I did, I heard a shuffling of footsteps in the hallway. Quickly I shoved the metal culprit toward the wall and dropped two towels on it. The note stuck to my shoe. Great. I wiggled and danced a bit until I could reach my foot and grab it. Then I shoved it into my pocket and hurried out of the bathroom.
“Everything all right in here?” Sister Barbie asked from behind me. I turned to see she held a tray of medication and was doing that squinting thing like my mother.
I wondered if that really helped someone see better like holding a book miles away from your face does once you hit forty.
Now, in my flustered state, I’d have to remember Jagger’s instructions on how not to swallow a pill. “Yes . . . Sister. Everything is fine. I was about to go to sleep. Tired after my pass. You know, my cut and all.” I prayed she wouldn’t ask to see it.
Thankfully her hands held a tray filled with psychedelic colored pills. Seemed like hundreds of them. As usual, she was in a hurry to shove them at patients. When she gave me the little green one, Novitiate Lalli appeared at the door, flashlight in hand.
Damn.
With my mouth shut, I wiggled my tongue to get it exercised enough to do the trick. Sister started to turn.
“Take it now, Pauline.”
Novitiate Lalli moved closer like some private dick investigating a case and not some novitiate nurse about ready to scrutinize my mouth. The woman gave me the willies. I mentally moved her up higher on my list of suspects. Tied with Spike now.
Hmm. A new nun. How convenient. Maybe she had pretended she really wanted to be a nun just to get this job to . . . commit fraud. My gut and my experience said she was a nursing student, but the nun part was still in doubt.
“Take the pill,” Lalli reiterated. “We have plenty of patients to medicate.”
I’ll just bet you do. I opened my mouth, said a silent prayer and popped the pill in. Then I did the Jagger trick while swallowing.
“Stick out your tongue,” she ordered.
The moment of truth. Suddenly fear gripped my insides when I realized there’d be consequences if I got caught. What they’d be, I had no idea. I only assumed I wouldn’t like them, and, they could blow my cover. I looked to see Novitiate Lalli glaring at me, lit flashlight aimed high.
I wiggled my tongue, did as Jagger had said and opened.
As if digging for gold, she leaned so near I could smell the scent of cologne. Hmm. Nuns wear cologne? It was some kind of musk oil, light but sweet.
“Lift up your tongue.”
Yikes.
After a sneeze, I did as I was told, praying at record speed that the pill was safely out of sight.
“Clean,” she pronounced, shut off her light and turned toward the door.
Unfortunately, Sister Barbie Doll hesitated.
Soon the pill would start to melt. Melt mind-altering drugs right into my system, and I’d be a basket case. So, again with the nonexistent acting skills, I smiled at her and yawned. “My head is starting to hurt from my cut.”
She looked at me a few seconds. “Then, my child, you should get some rest.” Following Novitiate Lalli, she turned and went out the door.
Poof!
I spit the damn pill out across the room before it could leak anymore into my system. Quickly I grabbed it, hurried into the bathroom and flushed the pill into oblivion. Had to keep a clear head around here now that I was alone.
Oh, my God! I was alone.
After what not only seemed like hours but must have been, I tossed and turned for the last time. In between tosses I had dozed but kept waking up. Deciding to get up and get a drink of water, I shoved off the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. An eerie silence filled my room.
Nighttime in a mental hospital is what scary movies are made of. I sat for a few minutes then shoved on my slippers and grabbed my robe. I started to head to my private bathroom and then realized—the broom handle was still in there.
Great.
A feeling of doom grabbed me inside, as if the metal object were some snake or other venomous reptile. I told myself to get over it. It was an inanimate object. Sure, one that was put there to scare the stuffing out of me. I decided to toughen up or I’d never be able to do a good job.
I stood, let my blood pressure stabilize and walked into the bathroom.
Empty.
No towels.
No broom handle.
Hmm. I didn’t recall there being a maid service in this place. So who took it all?
I grabbed at the sink as if the absence of the damn thing was more horrifying than the presence of it earlier. The idea that someone had snuck in and took it while I dozed was a frightening thought. I took a deep breath and decided I’d go out into the ward.
I turned, walked to the door, opened it and looked down the hallway. Empty and quiet. In the distance, faint snoring filled the air. Had to be from the patients who actually swallowed their meds. While I made my way toward the nurses’ station to inform them I’d be sitting out in the dayroom for a while, I thought of Margaret. I really needed to be there to help her, and Jagger would soon realize that I was gone.
He’d come. I knew he would. Jagger was always there in a pinch—and sometimes I wanted to pinch his . . . never mind those kinds of thoughts. Preservation and growing old had to be my first priority.
A lay nurse sat at the desk. I hadn’t been out here during the night before but figured with the shortage of nuns, there had to be plenty of laypeople working in this place. She looked pleasant enough in her floral scrubs while she bent over a computer keyboard.
I cleared my throat when I stood near the window of the glass-enclosed (shatterproof, I assumed) nurses’ station. “Excuse me, ma’am.”
She looked up and smiled. “Nurse Lindeman. Sharon Lindeman. Can I help you, Mary Louise?”
Not that again. Okay, I’d cut her some slack since she wasn’t around during the days and probably had only seen my chart and me asleep most nights. “Yes and no. First, please call me Pauline. My doctor said to. Second, I can’t sleep—”
She got up. “I’ll check your orders for a sleeping pill.”
“No!” I smiled. “No, thank you, Nurse Lindeman. I only want permission to sit in the dayroom for a bit. Then I’m sure I’ll go back to my room and fall asleep like a baby.” I’d been at my sister’s during naptime and always wondered why the comparisons were made to sleeping like a baby. None of my nieces or nephews ever wanted to go to sleep. They cried until wiped out. Maybe there was too much on my mind to sleep tonight, but that couldn’t possibly be the problem babies had. I figured crying around here would only get me heavily medicated or wrapped in the wet sheets like a tamale.
She stared at me a few seconds. “Fine. Just don’t put on the television.”
I chuckled. “What the heck would be on right now anyway?”
“Movies,” a deep voice said from behind.
At first I thought it was Jagger in disguise, but I turned to see a damn fine-looking guy about my age, standing there in a white lab coat. Hmm. Maybe he’d replaced Dr. Dick.
“Movies? Well, that would be nice,” I said smiling, “but I don’t want to wake anyone. I’ll just sit and meditate.”
“I’ll join you.” He stepped closer. “Terry. Terry Myers. Dr. Terry Myers.”
I looked to see Nurse Lindeman’s reaction, but she had turned back to her computer. That was good enough for me. She didn’t see any problem with me talking to this doctor. Maybe, without breaking any confidences, I could get some information that might help the case.
He followed me to the dayroom, sat opposite my chair and proceeded to tell me about his education, from Yale Medical School to his stint here. After I’d told him that I had gone to Yale for my master’s degree, we reminisced about our alma mater.
“Small world,” he said, staring at my legs. “Same school.”
I had to believe that my Maciejko legs—inherited from my mother, grandmother and well, all the rest of the female clan—were of interest to him. I shifted and recrossed.
He continued to look down and told me how attractive I was.
Hey, wait a minute. Wouldn’t that be considered unprofessional—even if true? “Yes, I guess it is a small world.” I tried to gain some eye contact, but he kept staring at my legs—and it started to get creepy.
I had to keep my eye on this doctor and hope he wasn’t assigned to my case.
Then he stood, still looking at my legs. My investigator instinct told me this was no ordinary doctor. Sure, some psychiatrists seemed whacky themselves and could use a dose of their own medicine. Yet, something bothered me here.
“Dr. Terry” leaned forward to whisper, “I’ve seen you around here a lot. Lovely blonde hair.”
I pulled back and looked over his shoulder for Nurse Lindeman. With her back toward us, she looked as if she were typing at her computer.
Ruby suddenly appeared and grinned. “Hey, Terry. How’s it hanging?”
“Don’t ask me things like that, Ruby.” He looked at her, and then back at me. “Gray eyes. Interesting. You must be of European descent.”
I sucked in a breath and sat straighter, ready to bolt. “Polish.” Good, I thought, if Ruby stays, I’ll feel better.
I could see her watching us, but then she turned and walked away. Wonderful.
His staring moved from my legs to my face. “I know.”
Gulp.
I got up.
“Well—” I yawned. “I think I could sleep now. Nice meeting you—”
“It wasn’t our first time. And I love you, Pauline.”
Whoa, boy. I pulled back. “Good night, Terry.”
He went to reach out to me—I assumed for a hug—but when he reached out, his clothing shifted.
I gasped.
Beneath his lab coat was . . . nothing.