Psychiatric Nurse

by Dan Ross

  "May I have this dance?" a pleasant voice inquired at her elbow.

  She turned in surprise to face a smiling Frank Burns. The young millionaire-hippie was looking quite formal in a dark suit and tie.

  "Yes, of course," she said. "You look very nice, Frank."

  "Square," the freckle-faced youth said with a wink. "But when Victoria Wales sets the rules, you have to try to follow them."

  "I see her standing over there with Dr. Breton," Jean said.

  Frank glanced toward the entrance door where the elderly woman and the stout doctor were chatting. "Yes. She likes to be there to keep an eye on her guests."

  He led her out onto the floor, and she was at once impressed by his excellent dancing. He seemed to enjoy it, and they remained there for several dances. Then he escorted her to an empty spot along the wall. Standing with her in the subdued light, he gave her another warm smile.

  "I've been looking forward to this party," he said.

  "You enjoy the dances?"

  "I enjoy being with you," he said pointedly.

  She was slightly flustered by his outspokenness, but she took it with an easy air. "It's good that we have these affairs," she said.

  "I think so," he said, as if he weren't really thinking about it.

  She gave him a searching look. "You'd have a lot more good times if you got out of here. Don't you realize that?"

  "Bad times, too."

  "You mustn't resign yourself to staying here," she said urgently.

  The youth's pale blue eyes studied her earnestly. "Does it mean a lot to you what happens to me?"

  "It means a great deal, Frank," she said sincerely.

  She was glad that they were alone and in a dark area of the room. No one would be paying attention to them, and she could speak her mind freely.

  "If that's so, I'll try to get out," he promised.

  "You must."

  Then Frank really startled her by quietly adding, "You know I'm in love with you. Will you marry me if I get my freedom?"

  "You're joking!" she gasped.

  "No."

  "What about Peggy?"

  "She'll manage."

  "She's in love with you!"

  He shook his head. "I think it's sympathy that she feels, not love. It could be different with us." His hand touched her arm. The orchestra was playing again, and most of the people were dancing.

  Jean still didn't know what to say. Awkwardly, she told him, "I'm fond of you, Frank, and I want to see you well. But I've never thought of you as someone I'd fall in love with."

  "Do I repulse you?"

  "On the contrary. I think you have a great deal of charm. And you have a good mind as well. Too good to waste in this place."

  "Well, then?"

  "I can't talk about it here," she protested. "They'll be seeing us and wondering."

  "Do you think I care?" Frank asked with one of his slow smiles. And he capped his words by suddenly drawing her to him and kissing her.

  She drew back quickly. "Frank!"

  "I'm not sorry," he said.

  She was about to warn him to consider the other patients. The rules against this kind of behavior at the patient dances were rigid. Any violation of them by a single individual could result in the discontinuation of the parties. But just as she started to voice this warning, she saw a figure moving in the shadows beyond them. And as the figure drew closer, she saw that it was Bertha Fraser who had been standing there watching everything that had gone on.

  "Bertha!" she exclaimed in a voice of appeal as the dark-haired nurse gave her a stony glance and walked by without a word. Jean turned a stricken face to Frank. "Now we're really in trouble."

  "Because of her?"

  "Yes," she said. "She's been waiting for something like this. You can be sure she'll use it against me. She won't lose a minute in getting the news to Dr. Werner. And then I'll be discharged and there'll be no more dances."

  Frank looked worried. "I'm sorry," he said.

  "You should be!"

  "Maybe Dr. Hastings could persuade her not to say anything. It isn't fair for the other patients to be penalized because of us."

  "You should have thought of that!"

  "Why don't you speak to him?" Frank urged.

  "I don't think it will do any good," she said dejectedly.

  "Try," the young millionaire pleaded.

  The music had stopped again, and so Jean left him to look for Ken. She found him standing alone, and with her heart beating wildly, she sputtered, "Bertha saw Frank and me kissing just now. I'm sure she intends to tell Dr. Werner and cause trouble. Will you try to coax her not to?"

  Ken looked dumbfounded. "Repeat that for me."

  She did, awkwardly. "It didn't mean anything," she finished lamely.

  "I see," the young doctor said, his handsome face shadowed. "I'll try to head her off."

  Frank came up to her after Ken went off. "What did he say?"

  Jean was very depressed. "He's going to do what he can."

  "Let's hope she listens to him," Frank said worriedly.

  They stood there for a while. The music began again and Frank asked her to dance, but she declined. Then he went over to Peggy, and Jean saw them move toward the dance floor.

  At last Ken returned. "I've talked Bertha into saying nothing," he told Jean. "It wasn't easy. You'd better be more careful in the future. That was pretty indiscreet." And she knew by his tone and the sober expression on his face that he was badly hurt.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Jean had no idea how Ken had managed to get Bertha to pledge her silence. But he managed it somehow, for nothing was reported to the head doctor about the unhappy incident with Frank. However, it brought about a coolness between her and the young doctor. She felt she could explain it all satisfactorily to him if she could just get some time with him alone. But the pressure of the following days left no chance of this.

  It was on Wednesday that she had lunch in the cafeteria with Nurse Muriel Evans, who had been her friend since her arrival at the hospital.

  "Guess who took Bertha out last night?" Muriel asked.

  Jean thought she already knew. "Go on," she said.

  "Ken Hastings," Muriel replied. "I'm sure it's the first time they've dated for months."

  "I'm not surprised," Jean said a trifle grimly. And she wasn't. She felt that it probably had something to do with Bertha's guarantee to keep quiet. Or perhaps Ken had assumed that the thing with Frank was serious.

  "I didn't think that romance would ever warm again," was Muriel's opinion.

  Jean shrugged. "You can't tell about these things."

  "Bertha isn't the right girl for Ken," Muriel stated. "He likes you. You should do something to save him."

  "He may not want to be saved."

  "Men need guidance in these matters," Muriel said firmly. "I say you're foolish if you just let him go back to Bertha. You should offer some fight."

  Jean gave the other nurse a wan smile. "I'll think about it."

  But she knew there wasn't much she could do. Through no fault of her own, she had been placed in a compromising position by Frank. She still liked the young millionaire, but she felt he had behaved in a selfish and stupid fashion.

  That evening was the regular weekly concert night, and so she once again found herself in the audience listening to Frank's folk songs and his satirical comments on himself and life in the hospital.

  She thought his performance was less carefree than it had been the first time she had listened to him. There was a strained air about his humor and his singing. But he still was a tremendous success with the audience of his fellow patients. When he finished, they gave him the usual round of applause.

  It was time for the refreshments to be served, and Jean remained to chat with Victoria Wales for a few moments. Neither Ken Hastings nor Peggy Chase was in the audience, though both were regular attendants at the concerts given by Frank.

  Victoria Wales, in an antiquated green dress and a lon
g string of pearls, was her usual self. "Dear Frank is an entertaining singer," she confided to Jean, "but the boy will never make his mark in grand opera."

  "I don't suppose so," Jean replied.

  "I have entertained so many of the Metropolitan's great stars," the old woman said with a smile on her wrinkled face. "I must say that I had Caruso as a house guest when he was the best of all the stars. And Mary Garden! What a delightful person she was!"

  "You've always been fond of music?" Jean asked.

  "I have." The old woman sighed. "So I really wouldn't miss one of the Wednesday concerts, though I don't fully understand this young man's type of singing."

  "It's very popular these days."

  "Well, his songs do tell a story," Victoria Wales said, and moved on.

  Jean was about to leave when she saw Frank coming toward her. She had no chance to get away, so she waited for him to join her. The first thing he said was, "You've noticed that Peggy isn't here?"

  "Yes. I wondered about that."

  Frank's face was shadowed with concern. "She had a bad seizure this afternoon."

  This was a surprise to Jean. "I hadn't heard," she said. "I thought she was coming along very well."

  "She was. She hadn't had a spell since she came here."

  "It's too bad," she said wanly.

  The young man with the yellowish hair gave her a knowing look. "I say there is more to it than you'd guess. She's been writing to her father about discontinuing the treatments and leaving here."

  "I know. This could be a setback to her plans."

  "And I don't think her having the seizure right now was any coincidence," Frank said. "I've an idea her father has been discussing taking Peggy out of the hospital with Werner, and that the doctor deliberately juggled her medications to bring on a fit."

  Jean gasped. "Would he go that far?"

  "As long as he was reasonably sure he wouldn't be caught," Frank said. "And who is going to be able to prove a thing like that?"

  "A pretty safe move," she agreed.

  "I say he did something to make sure she'd remain."

  "If that is true, it's a double reason for getting her out," Jean told him.

  "How?" he asked bitterly. "Have her run off into the winter night like Maxwell and die somewhere in the cold? What chance is there of getting her away from here if Werner can persuade her father that she needs continued treatment?"

  "Her father will have to be convinced of the danger to her here," Jean maintained. "I think she could enlist Dr. Hastings' aid. He might speak to her father privately."

  Frank showed disbelief on his long, freckled face. "I'm not sure Hastings is on our side any more after what I pulled the other night. He's avoided me ever since, and he was friendly before that."

  "You may be imagining it," she said. But secretly, she felt that he was right. Ken had also been avoiding her.

  "I doubt it," the young folk singer said with a sigh. "I never realized how much Peggy meant to me until today."

  She offered him a forlorn smile. "Perhaps you'll think twice now before you go around kissing other girls in public."

  "I still feel the same way about you."

  "We have plenty of problems without that," she said. "I'll try to find an opportunity to speak to Ken about Peggy."

  "Will you?" he asked eagerly.

  "I promise," she said. "What have you done about getting away from here yourself?"

  "Not much," he admitted. "But I'll begin now. I know I have to for Peggy's sake, if not for mine. I've got to get her away from Werner's influence."

  "Keep that in mind," she advised him.

  The next morning, on her coffee break, Jean left her office and went to the one down the hall occupied by Ken Hastings. The young doctor was out when she got there, so she waited for a few moments. Just as she was ready to leave, he appeared in the doorway.

  He studied her with surprise. "Well, I didn't expect a call from you so early in the day."

  "I've come about Peggy."

  His face shadowed. "The seizure?"

  "Yes."

  "What about it?"

  "Frank thinks Dr. Werner did something to bring on the seizure. That he changed her drugs in some way to cause the fit, knowing that she'd written her father about leaving the hospital."

  "Frank has some pretty radical ideas," Ken said.

  She gave him a pleading look. "He may be right. You know enough about things here to realize that."

  "Let Frank find a way to prove his accusation," the young doctor said.

  "He knows he can't."

  "So?"

  "So he hopes that you'll do something to help—perhaps quietly explain things to Peggy's father. Let him know that his daughter is needlessly being hospitalized, and the danger it places her in."

  Ken came farther into the office and shut the door so they couldn't be overheard.

  "Have you any idea of the fix that would place me in with Dr. Werner?" he asked.

  "You shouldn't be working for that dreadful quack, anyway," Jean said with some spirit. "You're as much at fault as anyone."

  "Great!" Ken said with sarcasm. "Now the girl who kissed patients in public is giving me a lecture!"

  Jean crimsoned. "That was something I couldn't help."

  "I'm sure of it," he said dryly. "A great romantic moment!"

  She stared at him defiantly. "Are you on the side of those two or aren't you? Do you really want them to be destroyed so that Tranquility Place can show a healthy profit?"

  Ken lost some of his bitter look. "Sorry. Maybe I have gotten off the track a little."

  "They need your help, Ken," she implored. "Whether you're angry with me or not, don't take it out on them."

  His eyes met hers. "What about you and Frank?"

  "There's nothing between us," she told him. "He's lonely and confused. I've tried to be his friend. He kissed me on an impulse. Yesterday, when he found out how much danger Peggy was in, he realized that she's the one he really loves."

  "You're sure of that?"

  "Of course I'm sure. And if that telltale Bertha hadn't seen us, no one would ever have known about that meaningless kiss."

  "Bertha could still take it into her head to tell Werner and finish you here," Ken warned.

  "Is that why you're catering to her? Dating her?"

  "Maybe," he said.

  "When I asked you to try to silence her, I didn't expect you to get involved to that extent," she protested sadly. "Don't go on with it for me!"

  He gave her a wise look. "Maybe you'd better let me finish what I've started in my own way."

  "I suppose I'll have to." She started for the door and turned back with her hand on the knob. "When we do something for Peggy and Frank, we should both leave here."

  "I'll think about that," he said quietly.

  She returned to her own office with the feeling that she had made some headway in explaining about Frank. She hadn't expected Ken to immediately accept what she had to say and therefore resume their relationship as before. That would take time. But she felt that now Ken better understood what had happened.

  When she finished work that afternoon, she made it a point to seek out Peggy. She found the girl, pale and unhappy, in her own room. When Jean entered, Peggy was curled up on a sofa whose back was to a large window, staring out at the winter scene.

  Jean came over and sat by her. "Are you feeling better?" she asked.

  Slowly Peggy turned to her. "I'm still jittery. It wasn't pleasant having another seizure after so long."

  "I'm sure," Jean said sympathetically.

  Peggy looked miserable. "Of course, Dr. Werner phoned Father at once."

  "I'm not surprised."

  "Then Dad called me, and he was in a state. I'm sure he was just about ready to take me out of here, and now he doesn't know what to do."

  "Frank told me about that," Jean said. And with a wan smile, she added, "One good thing has come out of your seizure. It made Frank realize how much he love
s you."

  Peggy's pale face brightened a little. "Did he say that?"

  "Yes."

  "I know I love him."

  "He is sure that Dr. Werner either didn't give you enough medication or gave you an overdose to bring on your fit."

  Peggy nodded vigorously. "I've been thinking the same thing. And I feel frustrated and trapped."

  "There is still someone who can help you."

  "Who?"

  "Dr. Hastings. I've talked with him, and I'm almost certain that I've convinced him to see your father and tell him the truth about the way this hospital is being run. He needs to be told that Werner is interested in patient fees, not cures."

  The petite dark girl looked at Jean anxiously. "Will he do it?"

  "I hope so."

  "If Dr. Werner finds out, it could mean Dr. Hastings' job," Peggy worried. "And my father might take it into his head to tell Werner."

  "Dr. Hastings knows about that risk," Jean told the unhappy girl. "He shouldn't be working here, anyway. He's much too talented. It's all right for a failure like Dr. Firth Breton, but not for him."

  "I agree," Peggy said. "If he decides to talk to Father, I hope he won't put it off too long. I'm frightened. Dr. Werner may try some other experiments on me to make me seem worse."

  "Dr. Hastings understands that."

  "What about Frank?" Peggy asked. "I wouldn't want to leave and have him remain here."

  "We've been working on that as well. It may be more difficult, but I don't believe that Dr. Werner can keep Frank a prisoner here indefinitely."

  Peggy gave her a grateful look. "What would we do if we didn't have your friendship?"

  Jean smiled. "I'm sure there would be someone else."

  "No," Peggy said. "So few really care."

  The dark girl's words remained in Jean's mind long after she left her. In her room, Jean reviewed the whole situation and knew that something had to be done soon. It was true that she sincerely did care. That was her whole purpose in taking up nursing— to be of help to those who were, at least for a while, helpless and dependent. In coming to Tranquility Place, she had expected to find a specialized hospital interested in very personal treatment of the mentally ill. She had been positive that she would be working with doctors dedicated to their field.