The Case Of The Not-So-Nice Nurse. Mabel Maney

a picture she made with her starched white uniform ironed just so and her crisp white cap pinned at a jaunty angle atop shiny black curls.

      Suddenly the squeak of rubber-soled nurse’s shoes on shiny linoleum woke Cherry from her daydream.

      “Sleeping on the job, Nurse Aimless?” Nurse Marstad asked, her arched eyebrows framing steely gray eyes. Cherry was too afraid to answer. She shook so hard the pills on her tray rattled.

      “Well, Nurse?” Nurse Marstad asked, tapping her pencil against the little black book she held in her hand. Everyone knew Nurse Marstad kept a record of every infraction and referred to the book when deciding upon promotions and salary increases. Cherry had worked and prayed all year for a promotion from probation nurse to permanent staff, and so far her record was spotless. But today she had been caught off her guard twice. Surely Nurse Marstad wouldn’t be so cruel as to blemish her record over these slight transgressions? Or would she?

      Cherry looked at the stern nurse through teary eyes. Nurse Marstad was scribbling furiously in her book. Hadn’t her mother warned her to get her head out of the clouds before something terrible happened? “Oh, why didn’t I listen to mother?” Cherry groaned to herself. “And on the eve of my big vacation!”

      Cherry took a few deep calming breaths and got down to the business of nursing, under the austere gaze of Nurse Marstad. She was relieved to see that her first patient was Miss Lillian Bee, a quiet elderly woman suffering from a strange sleeping sickness. Cherry took a deep breath and began preparing Miss Bee’s injection. She blushed as she readied the syringe. Nurse Marstad’s attention made her nervous, and she clumsily dropped the needle. She hastily prepared a fresh injection, hoping the head nurse hadn’t noticed.

      But she had noticed and was making another notation in her black book. Cherry blushed a deep crimson, her red cheeks highlighting her fair coloring and sparkling green eyes. She bit her ruby lips as she prepared a sterile needle. Giving injections was difficult for her, as she hated to cause the slightest bit of pain to any living creature, even if it was for their own good.

      Just as she was moistening a cotton pad with antiseptic, a voice called for Nurse Marstad over the intercom. With a brusk “Carry on, nurse,” Nurse Marstad left the ward. Cherry breathed a deep sigh of relief.

      With Nurse Marstad gone, Cherry competently injected Miss Bee, plumped her pillow and gave her a relaxing shoulder rub. She was glad the head nurse had been called away. Cherry was an efficient and kind nurse, as her patients would willingly testify, but there was something about Nurse Marstad that always unnerved her!

      She finished soothing Miss Bee, and moved to her next patient. It was Lana, the amnesia victim. Although there was nothing physically wrong with Lana, Cherry was sorely tempted to massage her, too. Tonight her patient seemed unusually sad. She was sitting on the edge of her narrow hospital cot, clutching her book, with a faraway look in her eyes. It took her a moment to realize Cherry was at her side.

      “I bet she’s upset because it’s been two whole days and we haven’t made any progress on her case,” Cherry guessed, vowing to double her efforts to identify Lana. Perhaps there was something she’d overlooked, she thought, surveying Lana with keen eyes.

      “Perhaps there’s a clue in the book?” Cherry wondered. She remembered that Nurse Marstad had admitted Lana to the ward. “She’s so thorough, she surely would have checked,” Cherry realized.

      Suddenly an idea came to her. “Lana must be married—she’s wearing a gold band. I wonder if anyone has looked inside her ring. If it’s engraved, it will be our first clue. I must see that ring!”

      “Oh, what a pretty ring,” Cherry remarked, trying to keep her tone casual.

      “Like it?” Lana asked, polishing it on her hospital-issue cotton smock. Somehow even the cotton gown looked like a couture dress on lovely Lana. “My honey gave it to me,” she said, looking wistful. Much to Cherry’s delight, Lana seemed genuinely interested in showing off her ring.

      “Oh, your hands are so tiny! I bet that ring wouldn’t fit on my pinkie!” Cherry exclaimed, hoping to get her hands on it.

      It worked. Lana took off her ring and handed it to Cherry. “Try it on; I bet your hands aren’t as big as you think.”

      Cherry slipped the ring on her finger, then took it off. She pretended to admire its smooth surface as she looked for an inscription. She found what she was looking for.

      “From G.A. to C.M. with love, 5-2-49” read the inscription in tiny cursive writing. For some reason, the thought of Lana being married upset her. What kind of man would this woman marry? She could see why any man would want to marry Lana, for she was not only pretty, she was charming, friendly and witty as well.

      “Why, if I were a man, I’d marry her,” Cherry thought, blushing furiously at the idea. She realized Lana was looking at her with a penetrating gaze that made Cherry feel all flustered.

      “Why, it’s as if she can read my mind,” Cherry thought, feeling a flush race up her cheeks. She hurriedly handed back the ring and gave Lana a little paper cup containing two pink pills.

      “Thank you for showing me your lovely ring,” she said. “Perhaps when I finish dispensing medication we can have a little talk and maybe you’ll remember something about your husband,” Cherry said.

      Lana laughed merrily at this suggestion, squeezed Cherry’s hand, and said she’d be delighted to have a nice chat.

      “I have a feeling I’ll really get somewhere tonight,” Cherry thought happily as she went about her tasks. “I’m sure in no time at all Lana will be home, safe and sound!”

      She hummed happily as she resumed her rounds, and her cheerful mood seemed to lift the spirits of her patients. In addition to giving out pills, Cherry always took a moment at each woman’s bedside to ask about her progress. She became so engrossed in one patient’s tale that it was almost an hour before she finished.

      When she returned to Lana’s bedside, she was surprised to see a nun sitting on the edge of the bed.

      “Why, Sister, I didn’t see you come in!” Cherry exclaimed. The nun pulled her veil closer around her face and said nothing.

      Cherry wasn’t accustomed to seeing nuns visiting during the night shift, and if the truth be known, the quiet creatures in head-to-toe black always made her a little nervous. The nun spoke to Lana in a low, hushed voice; Cherry could tell she wanted privacy. But Lana seemed to welcome the intrusion, and cheerfully called Cherry to her side.

      “Nurse Aimless, I have that book you loaned me,” Lana said, reaching under her pillow. She held out the book she had been guarding so carefully the last few days, and smiled. There was a queer animated tone in her voice, one Cherry hadn’t heard before. She seemed like an actress playing a part.

      “You were right—it’s a great book! Especially chapter fifteen. Oh, boy, I laughed so hard I cried!” Lana continued merrily.

      Cherry stumbled for an answer. She hadn’t loaned this book to Lana. Was she playing a trick, Cherry wondered, or was her amnesia getting worse? Cherry decided the best thing to do was to play along, and took the book from Lana.

      “Thank you for returning it so promptly,” Cherry said. “There are others waiting to read it. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

      Something was very queer here. “I’d better contact Dr. Spreck immediately!” Cherry thought.

      But before she had a chance to telephone the doctor, she heard a shout.

      “Nurse! Nurse!” came a muffled cry from outside the ward. Why, it sounded like someone was calling for help! Cherry raced out of the room and in the direction of the shouts, but by the time she reached the end of the long corridor, all was quiet. Strangely quiet. A priest sat calmly at the duty nurse’s desk, reading a tattered magazine. He smiled at Cherry as she caught her breath.

      “Goodness, my child, where’s the fire? You don’t want to break a leg and