He really knew how to pick ‘em, didn’t he?
Billy trudged into the medical supply room to retrieve the IV bags he needed. And ran right into Starla Berring.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she cooed at him. “Haven’t seen ya for a couple days.”
“Ummm, yeah,” he said. “Yesterday was my day off, plus I’ve been pretty busy—“
She sidled up to him, pressed her whole body up against his. “Too busy to bother with little ol’ me, huh?”
“Well—“
Starla just pressed against him even harder. “Billy, honey, I’ve got a key to the door of this here supply closet. I can lock it from the inside, and we can get busy right here and now. Nobody will ever know. We can even use one of the condoms they keep in here for distribution at the free clinic.” She nodded at a large plastic jar of brightly-colored condoms. “Convenient, ain’t it?”
“Starla, ummm, this really isn’t a good time—“ Billy stammered. And it wasn’t. He had work to do. And he had to find the mysterious, nameless woman he just might have fallen in love with this morning. But even if his mind and heart weren’t in it, his body sure as hell was. His cock went rock-hard against Starla’s thigh.
Starla cast her eyes downward at the bulge in Billy’s scrubs and giggled. “Well, maybe you don’t think it’s a good time, but I can guarantee that something else does.”
Billy abruptly backed away. “Look, Starla, you’re a real nice girl and all, and we did have ourselves some fun the other day, but I think that was just a one-time thing.”
Starla threw her head back and laughed. “Aw, honey, whenever you get into my britches, it’s never just a one-time thing.”
She reached out for him then, but only grabbed empty air. Billy grabbed a packet of IV bags from the shelf and made a dash for the corridor.
Once he arrived in Geriatrics, he saw that the IV bags he grabbed were the wrong size. They were larger than normal, designed for dosing obese patients. But that shouldn’t matter, should it? After all, they were still marked with standard metric measurements. They might be twice the size of the regular IV bags, but any nurse worth her salt who filled them would just read the measurements and adjust accordingly, right? Of course. That’s what he would do. That’s what anybody would do. Reading and checking (and re-checking) IV measurements was Nursing 101.
Still, it wouldn’t hurt to go back to the supply room and double-check that there weren’t standard IV bags available. He waited until he was sure Starla had left, then popped his head back into the supply closet. He searched in vain for standard-sized IV bags, but there just weren’t any. The oversized ones were apparently all the hospital had.
Oh well. It would have to do. Hopefully it wouldn’t be a problem.
Billy shrugged. He didn’t have time to think about that too much. He was already running behind as it was. He strolled up to the nurses’ station on Geriatrics Ward Two, and tossed the packet of IV bags in front of the duty nurse. “Here’s your IV bags as requested, ma’am. Anything else you need on the ward at the moment?”
The middle-aged nurse looked up at him over the rims of her reading glasses. “Well, it took you long enough, didn’t it?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Things are a little crazy here today.”
The women shrugged. “Just drop them over there,” she muttered, pointing to an overladen supply cart. “The shift nurse will take things from here.”
Billy did as he was told, then headed back to the main nurses’ station for his next assignment. More dirty bedpans and emptying butt-bags, most likely. I didn’t go to nursing school for this shit, he thought. And it was shit, literally. Cleaning up other peoples’ filth made up his entire job description on this gig. Had he known beforehand that this was what contract nursing work would be like, he wouldn’t have signed up in the first place. This sure as hell wasn’t in the brochure.
Then again, meeting his beautiful mystery woman just might make this shit job worthwhile. There was only one way to find out.
He had to find her.
He decided to take the first step on his quest at the nurses’ station. Maryam Malone was on duty. That old woman was a big-time gossip and all-around busybody. If anyone knew how to find his mystery woman in this hospital, it would be her. Failing that, Statesville wasn’t exactly a big place. He’d go door to door if he had to.
He sauntered up to the nurses’ station, full of renewed purpose. He’d gladly empty out another five hundred shitty bedpans if that’s what it took for him to find the woman of his dreams. Though he’d much prefer something more interesting to do instead. Not to mention cleaner.
“Hiya, Miss Maryam. I got those IV bags down to Geriatrics like you asked. What else do you need me to do?”
Maryam looked up from a stack of patient files. “Oh, um, Billy. I didn’t expect you back here so soon.”
“Well, you gave me a pretty simple task, Miss Maryam. And you did tell me to be quick about it.”
“So I did,” the older woman mused. “Well, truth be told, Billy, I ain’t exactly planned out what I want you to do next. So why don’t you just have a seat there in my private office for a few minutes while I have a chance to figure something out.”
With that, Maryam went back to her stack of patient files—but not without stealing a lascivious glance that a woman of her age had no business giving a hot young twenty-two-year old. Billy felt a cold chill go up and down his spine at the very thought of a dried-up old stick like Maryam Malone finding him attractive. It was obvious the lady was just stashing him back here so she could stare at his ass some more.
This was borderline sexual harassment, for Chrissakes. When was this hell going to end?
A moment later, he got his answer.
Dana Johnson walked up to Maryam at the nurses’ station, a frown pulling her beautiful features downward. “Maryam, I’m telling you, you have got to get me away from Joanna and Darth Vader. I don’t think I can stand working with those two for another minute. I’ll do anything to get out of OR duty with those two. Anything. I’ll go to Labor & Delivery and help give epidurals. I’ll empty bedpans. I’ll—“
Billy’s head jerked around at the sound of that familiar female voice. It was just as sweet and lovely as he remembered. Their eyes met, and locked.
It was magic.
“H-Hi,” Billy stammered. Suddenly his tongue felt too large for his mouth. “We met in the hallway. D-do you remember me?”
Dana’s smile lit up her entire face. “Of course I remember you. You were so funny. So cute and funny.”
Billy clapped his hands. It was probably the best compliment of his life. “Wow. Thanks!”
“I never learned your name,” Dana said. “Mine’s Dana. Dana Johnson.” She extended her hand, and he shook it. The feel of her velvet-soft skin against his palm was like nothing else he’d ever touched before, or even imagined. It was as if his entire life had led up to the exact moment their hands touched. And now that he had her hand in his, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to let it go.
Dana gazed up into Billy’s blue eyes. “So what’s your name?” she asked, squeezing his hand hard. He could feel the tiny bones of her fingers, almost like a bird’s, and he suddenly had a powerful urge to protect her with all his might.
At long last, Billy finally found his voice. “It’s Billy. Billy Hartzell. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dana Johnson.”
Dana’s amber eyes sparkled. “The pleasure is all mine, Billy.”
They just stood there staring into each others’ eyes for what seemed like an eternity, but was really only a minute or two. Finally, Maryam got fed up and loudly cleared her throat. “Pardon me, lovebirds, but you’re both on the clock.”
They both turned to Maryam, who was red-faced, her hands balled into fists. Any frank observer could see that the old nurse was jealous. An awkward moment, to be sure. But then Maryam took a deep breath, seemed to collect herself, and everything returned to normal. She looked at Dana, then at Bil
ly, then back to Dana. Finally, she spoke, her voice raspier than usual. “Well, Dana, if you’re looking for a chance to escape the OR, I’ve got an assignment for ya. You an’ Billy can do it together. How’s that sound?”
The pair of them literally jumped up and down, clasping hands and giggling. Lovebirds, indeed.
“Now hold on, kids,” Maryam said, and all at once her jealousy melted away. “You ain’t even heard what I want the two of you to do yet.”
“I’m sure whatever it is, it’s fine,” Dana said softly, cutting her eyes at Billy, who nodded in agreement.
“Don’t say that ‘til I tell you what it is.” Maryam sighed. “We’re short-staffed in Psychiatric. Well, hell, we’re short-staffed everywhere. But especially in Psychiatric. The shrinks need some help with restraining and sedating patients. I think the two of you would be perfect for that. Billy’s big and strong, and the combo of Dana’s pretty little face along with her drug dosing should help get things under control up there. Neither of you are certified for Psychiatric work, so I can’t force ya to do it, but if ya do, I’d consider it a personal favor.”
Billy and Dana exchanged glances, and they both nodded simultaneously. “We’ll be happy to do it,” Dana said. Billy smiled in agreement.
Maryam clucked. “Well, y’all might not be so happy about it once you’ve been up there for a couple hours. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. But I’ll make a note in my files that the both of you volunteered for this. Might be a nice thing for you to have in your corner, come raise time, Dana.” She cut a cryptic glance at Billy. “Well, you two best get going. I’ll phone up to Psychiatric and tell them y’all are on your way.”
Billy and Dana headed to the elevators, giggling and whispering all the way.
“Well, those two are stuck together like glue,” Maryam mused to herself. “Too bad the hospital’s lookin’ for an excuse to get rid of him.”
****
Dana and Billy stepped off the elevator opposite the Psychiatric unit. It was a lockdown unit, and required all visitors and staff to be buzzed in through a heavy security door. There were two layers of security leading into the psych ward. Once inside the first door, they both had to have their staff badges scanned, then sign a log before passing through the second door, which was even thicker and heavier than the first. Neither Dana nor Billy had ever set foot inside the Psych unit, which occupied an entire floor of the hospital. Dana had only passed by the outside entrance on a staff tour shortly after she was hired, while Billy had never been on the floor at all. Neither of them had done any psychiatric nursing since they were in college. Neither knew what to expect.
A hulking security guard verified their staff credentials with Human Resources and completed some routine paperwork. He stepped out from behind the desk, carrying two small plastic devices that looked like garage-door openers. “These are your panic buttons,” he growled in a deep, intimidating baritone. “Keep them on your body at all times, preferably tucked inside your scrub pocket of your pants. If a patient attacks you or you need backup, press the panic button and one of our on-ward security orderlies will be there to help. And whatever you do, don’t ever let a patient get a hold of the panic button.” He handed one to each of them, then made a notation in his security log. “You’ll need to hand these back in to me when your shift is finished. Anytime you’re up here, whether as nurses or visitors, you’ll need to carry one.”
“I’m wondering if we’ll live to regret this,” Dana mused as the security guard fitted them both with special badges and wristbands.
“Aw, it ain’t so bad,” the security guard said. “We just do this as a precaution. Most of our patients here in Psych are harmless. The real bad ones end up in the state hospital, not here. But you never can tell, so it never hurts to be safe. Name’s Julius, by the way. I’ve been security on this ward for four years now, and I’ve only seen three major incidents in that entire time.” He shook Dana’s hand, and patted Billy on the back. “But we do have a couple really touchy ones here on the ward right now, and that’s why they called the both of you up here.”
Dana took a tiny step backward. “What exactly do you mean by touchy?”
Julius averted his eyes. “I’ll just let Dr. Marx explain. He’ll be waiting on the other side of the door for you. Go on over and I’ll buzz you both in.”
The both stepped cautiously up to the massive security door, and Julius buzzed them inside. The corridor into the ward proper was empty, though there were security cameras everywhere. There were several doors leading off the main corridor, and every single one of them was thick, magnetically sealed steel, with only a small peephole of metal-reinforced bulletproof glass. The whole place reminded Dana of a maximum-security prison.
“This is really depressing,” she remarked. “I don’t remember the psych ward where I did my nursing-school Psych rotation being like this at all.”
“Psych wards can really vary from hospital to hospital,” Billy said. “I worked on two different ones back in Atlanta when I was in school. One was pretty laid-back and homey. That was at a private Catholic hospital. The other one, at the county hospital, was just like this, only a lot bigger.”
Dana squeezed Billy’s hand. “Were you ever scared? ‘Cause to be honest, I’m sort of scared right now.”
Billy squeezed back. “Don’t worry. What Julius says is right. Most of the time, nothing bad happens in these places. The really dangerous ones don’t end up in the local hospitals. At least, not usually. But then again, that may be exactly why we’re here.”
Dana shivered. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
As if on cue, one of the heavy metal doors buzzed loudly, and a grizzled man with a gray beard and a steel clipboard appeared. He was wearing a white lab coat over a rumpled suit and tie. His security badge said “Eugene M. Marx, MD.”
“Hi there, I’m Dr. Marx. You are Dana Johnson and Billy Hartzell, I presume?”
They both nodded.
“Good. Maryam Malone called and said you were on your way. And not a moment too soon. I was hoping you both could help with a couple of difficult cases.”
Billy and Dana exchanged looks. It seemed they were already in over their heads. Dana’s stomach quivered and she fingered the panic button in her pocket. “What exactly do you mean by difficult?” she asked.
“Why don’t you step into my office and I’ll explain further,” Dr. Marx said, motioning for them to follow him. They went to the end of the corridor to yet another heavy steel door. Dr. Marx fed his ID card through the security reader and it buzzed open. He held the door open and motioned them both to step inside his private ward office, a spare and sterile room that contained only a desk, two chairs, and a single bookcase containing three textbooks and an empty plastic binder. “Sorry it isn’t much to look at. My regular office is in the main hospital wing. I only use this one to have private therapy sessions with the ward patients who don’t have outside pass privileges. And these days, that’s pretty much every patient I have.” He sighed and shook his head. “Between the HMOs and state budget cutbacks, it’s a miracle anybody gets any kind of psychiatric care these days. Which brings me to the two cases I could use your help with.” He motioned to the two empty chairs. “Please, won’t you sit down?”
They did. Dr. Marx took his place behind the desk, templed his fingers under his chin and frowned. “We have two patients here on the ward that were overflow from the North Carolina State Hospital. They sent them to us because the state wards are completely full, and the state legislature just cut the mental health budget for the umpteenth time this year. The state hospital at Raleigh is coping by sending their so-called ‘less-dangerous’ patients out to community hospital wards. We’re frankly not equipped to handle these types of cases with at least some outside help. But the hospital wouldn’t let me bring in outside help. They sent the two of you instead.”
Billy felt a sinking feeling deep in the pit of his stomach. No wonder Maryam had warned them ab
out coming up to Psych in the first place. Emptying bedpans suddenly seemed like a much more attractive option. “What exactly do you need us to do?” he asked.
Dr. Marx wrung his hands for a moment. “Well, to be quite honest what I need from you both is rather bizarre. I can’t require you to do it, I can only ask. Whether or not you choose to do it is entirely up to you. But if you do, the hospital is prepared to pay each of you a three-thousand-dollar bonus.”
Billy’s eyes widened. “Three grand, huh? Maryam didn’t say anything about that.”
Dana looked afraid. “Three grand to do what? Sedate somebody or put them in a straitjacket? Because that’s what Maryam Malone said we’d be doing up here.”
“Well, what Maryam told you was true,” Dr. Marx admitted. “It just wasn’t the whole truth, I’m afraid.”
“What do you mean?” Billy asked.
“We have some patients here who have some rather strange phobias, which is the main reason they’re kept away from society. I specialize in treating phobias through immersion therapy. Do you know what that is?”
They both shook their heads.
“In a nutshell, immersion therapy is where you treat a phobia by exposing the patient to exactly what they’re most afraid of,” Dr. Marx explained. “In a controlled environment, of course.”
“What exactly are they afraid of?” Billy asked, skeptical.
“Women,” Dr. Marx replied. “Specifically, young beautiful women. Like Miss Johnson here.”
Billy jumped to his feet. “Now wait just a minute—“
Dana placed a gentle hand on Billy’s shoulder. “It’s all right, Billy. Let’s just hear this out.” She nodded at Dr. Marx. “Go on.”
The older man took a deep breath, then blew it out. “Thank you, Miss Johnson. The two patients in need of immersion therapy have committed acts of violence in the past that stemmed from their irrational fear of women. Some call violence against women an act of hatred, but in my opinion, and in many other clinicians’ opinions, it’s actually the result of primal fear. My immersion therapy treats these patients by exposing them to their greatest fear—beautiful young women—and showing them that there is nothing for them to fear.”
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