Grimmson Tale

            In her third-floor apartment that overlooked the park, Sonia White finished pulling a brush through her long dark hair and braided it without looking.  She put a few dabs of concealer under her eyes to mask the circles and spread some blush over her cheekbones to give herself some color.  The doctor she had worked with during her earliest months at the hospital had called her a ghost and asked if she ever went outside.  That was when she started wearing blush and lipstick – not that the lipstick stayed on for long.  She had developed the nervous habit of worrying her bottom lip with her teeth as a child, and she’d never grown out of it.  She gave herself a once-over in the full-length mirror on the back of her door before grabbing her keys.

            The fifteen-minute drive to work was usually a time for her to focus and prepare for the coming shift, but today her mind refused to calm.  She’d had a disturbing dream the night before about being locked in a coffin, and she’d felt unsettled ever since she woke up.  When she stopped at a red light, she closed her eyes for a moment and took three long, deep breaths, as she often instructed her patients to do, letting her worries slip away with each exhalation.

            The pickup behind her honked, and she jumped, hitting the accelerator and sending her black Honda forward with a jerk.  Waving vaguely over her shoulder in apology, she forced her mind back onto the road.  Her heart hadn’t yet returned to its normal rhythm by the time she stopped at the parking-lot guard booth to show her ID.

            “Good morning, Charles,” she said to the tall, blonde, and extremely attractive security guard.  The other four or five guards who worked the employee entrance were between 45 and 60 with receding hair and growing stomachs.  Charles, on the other hand, was about her age; he was a proverbial starving artist who worked long hours as a security guard and attended classes at night.  “How are you doing today?”

            Charles marked on one of the sheets of paper that covered his tiny desk in the plexiglas-walled booth.  “The sun’s out, the bees are buzzing, I haven’t gone crazy yet, and I just passed my art history midterm.”  He punched a button, and the blue-and-white striped bar in front of her car rose slowly.  “Oh, I should warn you; the staff’s all abuzz about a new patient.”

            “Don’t tell me.  It’s an axe murderer who thinks he’s a canary,” Sonia deadpanned.

            “Guess again.”

            “A CEO with an inferiority complex?”

            “Last chance.”  Charles’ grin widened, exposing the dimple in his left cheek.

            “A schizophrenic movie star?”

            Charles laughed.  “Wrong times three – you owe me.”

            Sonia laughed at the familiar rhyme.  “I’ll bring something sugary and unhealthy tomorrow.”

            “Don’t forget,” he warned mock-seriously. 

            “So who is the new patient?” Sonia asked, reluctant to drive ahead into the dim parking garage.  Charles was a wonderful source of gossip.  She told herself firmly that getting information from him was the only reason she stopped to talk every time he was working.  It had nothing to do with him being cute and single.

            “Don’t know the details, but Margie said it was the worst case of Multiple Personality Disorder she’s ever seen.”

            Sonia groaned.  “I can guarantee you he’ll be in my wing.”

            “That’s why they pay you the big bucks, m’dear.”

            “Right.”  Sonia rolled her eyes and gave Charles a parting wave as she eased the Honda into the parking garage.  Somebody had stolen her parking space, so she had to go to the fourth level before maneuvering into a spot between two SUVs.  She hauled her brown leather briefcase out of the backseat and hit the lock button on her key ring as she walked back down the ramp, her low heels thudding dully on the pavement.

            Three stories above the security booth, Patricia Finch turned her dark leather chair away from the window.  When she moved into the CEO’s office eight years ago, she purposefully placed her desk so a slight push to the left allowed her to roll her chair to the window that overlooked the employee entrance.  Six weeks later, she knew the make, model, and color of every employee’s car, and could identify each of them by its roof.  It was a little excessive, perhaps, but Patricia was not afraid of excessive caution.  Power was not built, as some thought, by daring risks, but by carefully thought-out maneuvers that took one up the ladder of success one step at a time.  And, as CEO of the Grimmson Institute for Mental Health, Patricia knew a lot about power.

            While waiting for Sonia’s arrival, Patricia flipped through the first seven pages of yesterday’s daily report.  Most of it was bureaucratic fluff, but she always skimmed it to ensure that she knew everything of importance that passed through her hospital.  Uninformed people were powerless people.

            The expected buzz over her phone came a moment later.  “Ms. Finch, Nurse White is here to see you,” her secretary droned.

            “Tell her to come in.”  Patricia glanced in the little gold-rimmed mirror on the wall to her right.  She ran one hand over her perfectly coiffed sandy blonde hair and twitched her navy blue jacket to eliminate invisible wrinkles.

            Sonia closed the door softly behind her.  “How are you, Patricia?”

            “Well.”  Patricia gave her a serene nod and folded her hands on her desk.

            “Good.”  Sonia stood still in the middle of the room; the only indication of her nerves was the way she chewed on her bottom lip.  “Why did you want to see me?”

            “Am I not allowed to speak to my own daughter?”

            Patricia noted the word “Step” beginning to form on Sonia’s lips, but the younger woman bit it back.  “Of course you are,” she said coolly.  “But you usually don’t ask me to come here without a reason.”

            “I merely wanted to see how you were doing,” Patricia responded.  “I have not heard much about you lately.”  That was a lie; she kept very careful track of her stepdaughter’s actions. 

            “Things are going well.  I have no complaints.”

            “Good, good.”  Patricia let Sonia squirm for a moment before bringing up the reason for her summons.  “I was going through the annual performance reviews yesterday, and yours caught my attention particularly.”

            “What did Dr. Woods say?”  Sonia tensed.

            “He has nothing but praises for you and your work; in fact, he considers you the best nurse he has ever worked with.”

            “That’s very kind of him,” Sonia replied neutrally.

            “Yes.”  Patricia narrowed her sharp grey eyes.  “He also says that your administrative skills have improved immensely over the past year.”

            “I did take three business classes at the community college last year,” Sonia reminded her stepmother.  “I’m glad they paid off.”

            “Yes,” Patricia repeated.  She studied Sonia for a long moment before speaking again.  “I should let you get to work.  Thank you for coming.”

            Sonia tipped her head to one side, a sign of deep thought.  Patricia stifled a smirk.  The girl was so easy to read.

            “You’re welcome.”  Sonia shook her head slightly and left the office as quietly as she had entered it.

            Patricia allowed herself a quiet sigh as the door closed.  Her stepdaughter clearly did not realize the significance of the report; Patricia herself might have overlooked it as mere rapport between a doctor and his nurse if not for the anonymous letter she had received last night.

            “Ms. Finch,” it said in a thin script, “you may believe yourself to be invincible, walled away in your plush office.  But very soon, Grimmson will have a new CEO.  Your stepdaughter is almost ready to take your place.  Be prepared, or you will lose everything you have attained.”  The note was signed “From One Concerned.”

            Despite the letter’s overdramatic wording, its contents concerned Patricia.  Who was grooming Sonia to take her place?  And did the girl even know about it?  Or was the letter merely a hoax to frighten her?  Well, “One Concerned” was about to discover that Patricia Finch did not frighten easily.

            Sonia had nearly forgotten the odd interview with her stepmother by the time she stepped off the elevator.

            “I was getting ready to send out the search dogs,” Dr. Woods said with no anger in his voice as she opened the door to his office.  “You’re a minute and a half late.”

            “Ms. Finch wanted to see me,” Sonia replied.

            “Why?”

Sonia had her story ready.  “She wanted to congratulate me on my progress over the last year.”  She had no interest in becoming the subject of the hospital gossip network; nobody at Grimmson knew that she and Ms. Finch were related.  While their frosty relationship meant that Patricia was more likely to make life more difficult for her rather than make things easier, most of the staff would not see it that way.  Quickly, she changed the subject.

            “So, did we get the patient Charles was telling me about?” she asked.  “The Multiple Personality Disorder case?”

            Dr. Woods laughed, a deep belly laugh.  “He’s the first one on our rounds.”

            “I knew it.  Why do I always get stuck with these cases?”

            “Because you’re the best nurse in the hospital?”  He wiggled one eyebrow up and down and leered at her teasingly.

            Sonia rolled her eyes.  “Stop flirting, Daniel.  What would your wife think?”  Before he could respond, she got down to business.  “What’s the situation?”

            Dr. Woods chuckled as he handed her the chart.  Once Sonia had an idea in her head, it took a small explosion to turn her attention elsewhere.  It made her a wonderfully focused nurse, even if it got her into trouble occasionally.  “Guy’s name is Dan Hayes.  Dr. Vince said it’s one of the oddest cases he’s ever diagnosed.”

            “Seven personalities,” Sonia murmured, scanning the chart.  “And he realizes he has them?  And remembers what each of them has done?  That is odd.”

            “We haven’t been able to figure out which one is ‘normal,’ either,” Dr. Woods commented.

            Sonia chuckled.  “Sarah must have been the one taking the notes.  Did you see what she named the personalities?”

            Dr. Woods nodded.  “Happy Dan, Sleepy Dan, Shy Dan, and Angry Dan.”

            “Plus Tired Dan, Crazy Dan, and Calm Dan,” Sonia finished.  “She is the only one who could turn out something that unimaginative.”  She handed back the chart.  “Let’s go meet Mr. Hayes.”

            Dan Hayes turned out to be a short, bearded man with broad shoulders, dark brown eyes, and the beginnings of a beer belly.  He wore a navy blue t-shirt under a blue and green jacket; his jeans were faded, and his brown work boots, while clean, were scuffed and wearing out.  At the sound of the door, he stepped away from the window.  “Hello!” he exclaimed in a rich baritone.  “How are you this fine morning?”

            Sonia returned his warm smile.  “I’m doing well.  How are you feeling?”

            “Quite well, thank you.”  Dan’s nod resembled a bow.

            Dr. Woods extended a hand.  “Mr. Hayes, I’m Doctor Daniel Woods.”

            Dan jumped backwards.  “You’ve got my name,” he said quietly.

            “Shy Dan,” Sonia murmured.

            Dr. Woods stood still, just inside the now-closed door.  “Yes, we have the same first name.  That gives us something in common.  Please, won’t you sit down?”  He motioned toward the plush chair in the corner of the room.

            Dan slunk toward the chair, then dashed the last few feet and jumped, landing with a poof of air in the center of the cushion.  He grinned at Sonia, lips pulling back to show all of his teeth.

            Unfazed by the rapid changes, Dr. Woods sat in the big brown chair across from Dan.  Left without a seat, Sonia crossed to the far corner and leaned against the wall behind the bed.  She scribbled the date, time, and patient’s name at the top of her yellow legal pad.  Then, in her own personal shorthand, she transcribed the conversation between doctor and patient.

             “Mr. Hayes, how long have you been having these feelings?”

            “What feeligs?”  Dan’s voice had taken on the distinctive cast of a person with a severe head cold.  “I do’t dow why you people do’t believe me.  I’b okay.  I do’t deed to be here.”  He sneezed fiercely.

            “We just want to be sure you are all right, Mr. Hayes,” Dr. Woods said in his “calm-down” voice.

            Dan calmed instantly.  “Of course.  But you do understand how frustrating it can be to be locked up in here like an...an animal?”  He growled the last two words.

            If Sonia had been in the observation room rather than in the room with the patient, she would have whistled in disbelief.  Six personalities in less than three minutes!  No wonder the hospital was buzzing about this guy.

            After a long half hour, Dr. Woods closed the door of Dan Hayes’ room behind him.  “I’ve never seen a case this bizarre in my life.”

            “Severe but with only some of the symptoms,” Sonia added.

            “Let me see.”  Dr. Woods glanced over her shoulder at her notes.  “’No loss of...’ what is that last word?”

            “No loss of memory,” Sonia translated.  “I’ll re-copy the chicken-scratch later.”

            “I know.”  Dr. Woods ran a hand through his thick, graying hair.  “Remind me to look through the books when we get back to my office to see if I can find anything that might help.”

            “Will do.”  Sonia scrawled another note.

            Sonia didn’t return to the office until her shift was nearly over.

            “You head on home,” Dr. Woods said when she handed him her paperwork.  “I want to get my papers filed before I leave, but you don’t need to stick around.”

            “Are you sure?”

            “Yes.  Go home and enjoy your evening.  Go on a date or something.”

            Sonia laughed.  “With whom?”  She waved a hand as he started to speak.  “Don’t answer that.  I’m scared of anybody you’d think was a good romantic match.  Don’t stay too late.”

            “I won’t.  G’night!”  Dr. Woods moved his hand in a gesture somewhere between a wave and a “get out” motion.

            Sonia took the hint.  “’Night,” she replied, heading out the door.

             “Charles?” she said incredulously as she stopped at the security booth on her way out of the parking lot.  “Don’t you ever go home?”

            He chuckled.  “I’m covering for Steven.  His wife’s out of town on business and his toddler got the flu.”

            Sonia winced.  “Tell him he was missed.”

            “So I’m not good enough, huh?” Charles teased.

            “You shouldn’t be working sixteen-hour shifts,” she retorted seriously.

            He shrugged.  “I’ve got some Mountain Dew, and I’ve finished two drawings today.”

            “Can I see?”

            Charles flushed ever so slightly, but handed two thick papers out the window.  Sonia put her car into park and held the two drawings to the florescent light in the booth.  The first was a desert landscape; despite the fact that the picture was in black and white, she could tell it was sunset.  The other was a woman’s face; her dark hair was blowing in the wind, and she was smiling – no, she was laughing.  The woman looked familiar, but she didn’t allow herself to rest on that idea for more than a moment.

            “They’re magnificent, Charles.”  She handed them back, careful not to smudge them.

            The red in his face darkened.  “Thank you.”

            A car pulled up behind Sonia.  “I’ve got to go; have a good evening, and don’t fall asleep.”

            “Drive safely,” Charles replied, raising the gate.  As he turned toward the next car, he glimpsed movement from the third floor.  What was Ms. Finch still doing there?  She was usually gone by five.  Charles shrugged and pushed the thought away.  None of his business.

            The moment Sonia’s car was out of sight, Patricia buzzed her secretary.  “Page Dr. Woods for me.”

            “Yes, ma’am.”

            When Dr. Woods arrived, Patricia motioned brusquely for him to sit on the other side of the imposing mahogany desk.  “I was reading your annual evaluation, Daniel.  Very impressive.”

            “Th-thank you,” he stuttered.

            Patricia had to hide a smile.  Exactly where she wanted him.  “But what surprised me was the glowing report you gave my daughter.”

            Dr. Woods just looked at her, clearly confused.

            “Stepdaughter, technically,” Patricia amended.  She gasped in feigned surprise.  “You didn’t know Sonia was my stepdaughter, did you?”

            “Sonia?”  Dr. Woods shook his head.

            “Yes, Sonia.  Your nurse.”  Patricia couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice.

            “Of course.  No, I had no idea she was related to you.”

            “She is.  May I be honest with you, Daniel?”

            “Of course, ma’am.”

            “Your report on Sonia worries me.”

            “How so?  She is one of the most competent . . . ”

            Patricia cut him off.  “Yes, I know.  But what worries me is that, with a record like hers, she might soon be leaving us for a better place at another institution.”

            “I don’t know about that.  Sonia loves her work here,” Dr. Woods replied.

            “I have it on good authority that she is already entertaining another offer.  My question to you is this -- do you think she will accept?  Her salary would be higher there; I am afraid the budget did not allow me to give her a raise this year.”

            “From what I know of her, money has never been a priority for Sonia,” Dr. Woods replied slowly.  “Unless she has a reason to leave, I think she will stay on here at Grimmson.”

            “Thank you.  That was what I wanted to know.”  Patricia turned away; the interview was over.

            But Dr. Woods was not finished.  “If I may ask, why are you and Sonia so secretive about your relationship?”

            “Surely an intelligent man like you can understand.”  Patricia adopted her perfected mix of kindness and condescension.  “If word got out that Sonia was related to the CEO, everyone would assume she got her position here based on our relationship, rather than on her own merit.  And you know that can’t be true.  Even when she was inexperienced, uncertain, and maybe a bit bumbling, she had the potential to become an excellent nurse.”

            “Yes.  Of course.”  Dr. Woods remained in his chair for a moment before getting up to leave.

            “Oh, one more thing, Daniel.  I would appreciate it if you would refrain from discussing this in the hospital.  If you wish to discuss it with Sonia herself, that would be fine, but I would prefer this conversation not leak out.”

            “Of course.”  Daniel gave her a respectful nod and strode from the room.

            “Too easy,” Patricia murmured.

            Dr. Woods brought up his conversation with Miss Finch the next day.  “Why didn’t you tell me that you and Miss Finch were related?”

            Sonia was visibly startled.  “Who told you that?”

            “She did.  She also said you were entertaining an offer from another company.”  He folded his arms across his chest, practically glaring at her.

            “What?”  Sonia twirled her pencil in her fingers.  “That’s ridiculous.  Why would I want to leave Grimmson?”

            “That’s what I said, but your mother . . .”

            “Stepmother,” Sonia corrected him firmly.

            “Of course.  Your stepmother was certain.”

            “She’s wrong.  And I don’t want to discuss it further.”  Sonia grabbed the charts from Dr. Woods’ desk and stalked down the hallway.  She had only passed two doors when she heard her name.  She didn’t make a practice of eavesdropping, but her curiosity got the better of her.

            “She’s her daughter?”

            “Stepdaughter is what I heard.  You know that’s how she got her place here, don’t you?”

            “Don’t say that; she’s a great nurse.  She doesn’t need any help.”

            “She’s good now.  Were you here when she first came on staff?  She was all thumbs and had no idea what she was doing.  We all wondered how she’d gotten the job in the first place.  Now we know.”

            “But she did turn out well.”

            “That’s not the point.  The point is that she got the job unfairly.  And now that she’s used her stepmother to get herself established, she’s off to make more money in a bigger city.”

            “Seriously?”

            “Seriously.”

            Throughout the conversation, Sonia’s face became redder and redder.  Without thinking, she spun on her heel and half-ran back to Dr. Woods' office.

            “How dare you?  How dare you spread those lies about me?  It’s bad enough that you believed that lying witch of a woman, but you had to tell the rest of the hospital about it!  I have spent the last three years working my butt off to become a good nurse and to establish a reputation, and you ruined all of it with your big mouth!  You could at least have had the decency to wait until you had asked me about my relationship with my stepmother before spreading it to the rest of the staff!”

            Dr. Woods took several steps backwards, stunned by the ferocity of the verbal attack from his soft-spoken assistant.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sonia.  The only two people I have discussed this with are you and Melissa.”

            Sonia expelled a lungful of air.  “You really expected your wife not to spread a bit of gossip this juicy?  She’s friends with half the staff, Daniel!”

            Dr. Woods dropped into his chair.  He had told Melissa not to tell anybody about his conversation with Ms. Finch, but he should have known that his wife would not be able to resist commenting.  Every person in the gossip chain had probably been told not to pass it on.  “Sonia, I’m sorry.”

            “Forget it.  I have to do the med run.”  Sonia charged into the hall.

            She locked away her emotions while she dealt with the patients, alternately coaxing and forcing pills down unwilling throats.  The last room on her rounds was Dan Hayes’.  His chart said he was showing some improvement, but Sonia took a moment to steady herself, feeling as if she were about to dive into a whirlpool.

            “Good evening, Mr. Hayes.”

            The stocky man jumped at her entrance.  He was sitting on his bed staring out the window.  “Oh.  Good evening, Miss White.”

            “You remember my name,” she said, surprised.

            “Of course.”

            “How are you feeling today?”

            “Tired.”  He fell backwards, sprawled across the bed.

            “Well, why don’t you take these pills, and then you can take a nap.”

            Dan yawned.  “Do I have to?”

            “I’m afraid so.”

            Dan rolled over onto his stomach.  “I like you better than the other nurse who brings me pills,” he said quietly, a blush creeping up his tanned cheeks.  “Will you come every evening?”

            Sonia blinked hard.  “I’m – I’m not sure, Mr. Hayes.”

            “I see.”  He sat bolt upright.  “Gimme the pills.  You can just go,” he snapped.

            Sonia couldn’t let him stay as “Angry Dan.”  “I wish I could come every evening, but I’m not sure how long I’ll be here.”

            “You hate it here too, huh?”

            “I’m just not sure.”  She handed him the small cup of pills and a glass of water.

            “Those things make me all fuzzy in the head.”  He sighed, but swallowed the pills without further complaint.

            “Hopefully, they’ll help you feel better so you can go home soon.”

            Dan grunted.  “I doubt it.  They’re going to keep me here until I rot.  Nobody wants to be around seven people in one body.”

            “Don’t say that.”  Sonia’s curiosity, once again, got the better of her.  “Don’t you have any family, Dan?”

            He jumped.  “You called me Dan.”

            “I suppose I did.  Is that all right?”

            “Yes.  And, no, I don’t have any family left.  What about you?”

            Sonia felt her eyes prickling.  She blinked hard, forcing the moisture back down.  “No real family.  Just a stepmother who would probably be happier if I disappeared.”  The words sounded as if they were coming from somebody else; she almost glanced around the room to see who else was there.  She wasn’t discussing this one of her patients, was she?

            “What about a man?  A boyfriend?  You aren’t married, I know.”  He gestured at her left hand.

            Sonia chucked mirthlessly.  “No.  I’ve never met a man who was seriously interested.”

            “What about seven men?” he asked with a roguish wink.

            “Sorry, Dan.  There’s a rule against dating patients.”  But she was smiling now.

            “Well, you should find somebody.  A pretty woman like you should have a boyfriend.”

            “Thank you.”  Sonia turned to go.

            “Miss White?”

            She turned back.  “Yes?”

            “Don’t let it get to you.”

            “Don’t let what get to me?”

            “It.”  Dan bobbed his head up and down like an old man delivering valuable advice to a grandchild.

            Sonia quickly slipped out of the room.  He couldn’t know what was going on, could he?  The nurses might gossip like old housewives, but they were professional enough to keep it from their patients.  Perhaps under all the chaos of his mind, Dan of the Seven Personalities was shrewd enough to see her inner turmoil.

            Her mind remained in a fog for the rest of the shift; she did her job mechanically, avoiding other staff members.  Charles had to reach out and knock on her window to get her to roll it down when she pulled up to his booth.

            “You look a little lost, Sonia.  Anything wrong?”

            To her surprise, the tears welled up again.  “It’s...it’s a long story, Charles.”

            He bit his lip, unknowingly copying her nervous gesture.  “Would you be willing to talk about it, say, over dinner?  Steven should be here to relieve me any minute now.”

            Sonia stared at him.  “You’re asking me to dinner?”

            “It doesn’t have to be anything fancy,” he said quickly.  “I just thought you might want somebody to talk to.  You look like you’ve had a rough day.”

            She considered for a moment, then smiled weakly.  “That would be wonderful, Charles.  Thank you.”

            Sonia met Charles at the Chinese restaurant down the street.  She ordered sweet and sour chicken, and he ordered spicy beef and broccoli; they split an order of veggie eggrolls.

            While she ate, Sonia glanced across the table at Charles.  She had talked to him three or four times a week for about six months as she passed the security booth, but she realized that she knew very little about him.  “Do you have any family around here?” she asked.

            Charles smiled sadly.  “Nope.  My mom lives in Oklahoma, and my little sister is studying abroad in Paris this semester.  It’s just me and my little apartment.”

            “I bet it’s covered in artwork.”

            Charles smiled a real smile.  “Yeah, it is.”  He reached over and touched her hand lightly.  “But I didn’t come to talk about me.  What’s up with you?”

            Sonia jumped at his touch; she could feel heat rising in her cheeks.  “It’s...it’s nothing awful.  Just some rumors that I’m letting get to me.”

            “What kind of rumors?”

            Sonia looked into Charles’ sympathetic blue eyes, and her resistance melted.  She began to talk, and the entire story flowed out -- Patricia’s dislike of her that bordered on hatred, the lies her stepmother had told Dr. Woods, and the things the nurses had said.  Charles listened without comment, occasionally nodding his head or wincing in sympathy.  When she finished talking and took a gulp of her Diet Pepsi, Charles spoke.

            “That sucks.”

            She chuckled.  “Yeah.”

            “Is there anything I can do?”

            Sonia looked up into his eyes again, and the emotion there triggered a response in her; moisture built up in her eyes and she looked away, trying to blink the tears back.

            “It’s ok,” Charles whispered.

            His kindness broke the dam, and the tears rolled down her face.  Charles reached out and took her hand in his, rubbing it gently as she cried.

            An hour later, Sonia closed the door of her apartment behind her and collapsed onto her bed.  She avoided her mirror; she did not want to see how awful she looked.  Some women could cry and look beautifully tragic, but Sonia did not have that gift.  Her eyes were cherry red and swollen, her face was pale, and her cheeks were blotchy.  The tears had dried, leaving her drained and exhausted.  Yet, a glimmer of joy flickered in her heart.  Charles had been wonderful, the perfect gentleman.  He’d driven her home and walked her to the door, offering a quick kiss on the cheek.

            Sonia changed into a long cotton nightshirt and crawled into bed without bothering to do anything else.  She was asleep before she could pull the blanket over her.

            It was nearly eleven when Sonia woke.  She did not have to be at Grimmson until four, so she took her time showering and getting ready.  She didn’t notice the blinking light on her answering machine until she picked up her purse on her way out.

            “Hey, Sonia,” Charles’ voice said.  “I wanted to see how you were feeling and see if you needed a ride back to the restaurant, since we left your car there.  Uh...give me a call.  493-2356.  Thanks.” 

            Sonia grinned and flipped her cell phone open.  She replayed the message and typed in the number.  It rang five times before Charles’ voicemail picked up.

            “Hey, this is Charles.  Either the phone’s off or I’m ignoring you.  Leave a message.”  Beep.

            “Hey, it’s Sonia,” she said, chagrined to hear that her voice was trembling.  “I just got your message.  I’m doing better today; I think some sleep helped.  I’m taking the bus to work, and I can probably get somebody to run me over to the Chinese place, or I’ll just walk.  But thank you.  See you soon.”

            Charles wasn’t working when Sonia arrived at the hospital.  She parked her car and went straight to Dr. Woods’ office.

            “Sonia!”  Dr. Woods stood when she opened his door.  “I’m glad to see you.  About what happened yesterday...”

            Sonia cut him off.  “Don’t worry about it, Daniel.  It’s in the past.”

            “But...”

            “I said, don’t worry about it.”

            Dr. Woods nodded and grabbed a stack of files from his desk.  “All right, then.  Here’s the list for today.”

            Dr. Woods was the only staff member who was kind to her all day.  The doctors, the other nurses, and even the cleaning staff either ignored her or shot glares at her when they passed her in the hallway or in the staffroom.  Sonia tried to shrug it off, imagining that she was a duck and the looks and whispers were drops of water rolling off her oiled feathers to fall back into the pond, but it only worked for a while.  By the end of her shift, she was just as discouraged as the day before.

            The next three days were the same or worse.  Sonia began hearing snatches of the gossip as she walked through the staffroom or past open office doors.

            “...blackmailed Ms. Finch into giving her the job.”

            “She doesn’t even like it; she’s in it for the money.”

            “I heard she’s using Ms. Finch’s name to get a senior position at another hospital.”

            Monday, Sonia’s day off, had never looked so attractive.  She was only a few yards from the hospital door Sunday night when one of the interns called her name.

            “Miss White?”

            When she turned, the short, curly-haired intern grinned at her.  “Ms. Finch wants to see you.”

            Sonia smiled insincerely.  “Thank you.”  She let the sarcasm fill the world, causing the young intern to physically step backward.  She let out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan.  “Sorry.  Thank you.”  This time, the phrase sounded sincere.

            The intern motioned for her to proceed, but Sonia said, “I know where it is.”

            “I figured you did.”  The intern clapped one hand over her mouth; clearly, she hadn’t meant to say that.

            Shoulders slumped, Sonia trudged to the elevators.  She forced her shoulders back and her head up as she opened the door that read “Patricia Finch, CEO.”

            “Ah, Miss White,” said the secretary, a thin, angular woman with short grey hair and pale, thin lips.  “Go in; she’s expecting you.”

            Sonia didn’t even try to smile at the secretary, whose name she had forgotten.  Patricia changed secretaries so often that she had given up trying to remember their names.

            “Sonia, come in.”  Patricia sat behind her desk, hands folded in front of her, waiting as a cat lies in wait for its prey.

            Sonia obeyed, feeling as if the door was permanently locking behind her.  “Hello, Patricia.”

            “Please, call me Ms. Finch.”  The words were terse.

            Sonia swallowed and pulled her lower lip into her mouth.  Her heart beat so loudly that she wondered if Patricia could hear it.

            “I’ve received several complaints about you, Miss White.”

            Sonia flinched at the use of her title.  “What kind of complaints?”

            “You are not paying enough attention to your job.  You have been uncooperative with other staff members.  Your paperwork is improperly filed, if it is filed at all.  You have gotten emotionally involved with a patient, Mr. . . .” Patricia looked at a paper in front of her.  “Mr. Dan Hayes.  Must I go on?”

            Sonia had no words.

            “Miss White?”

            Sonia shook her head, still unable to speak.  Shock held her muscles in its icy grasp.

            “What do you have to say about this?”

            “I...”  Sonia swallowed hard and cleared her throat.  What she said now was vital.  “None of those things are true.  All sorts of rumors have been going around about me, and the other nurses have been avoiding me...”

            Patricia cut her off.  “Do you mean to tell me that you are allowing gossip to interfere with your job?”

            “No!”  Sonia took a deep, steadying breath.  “None of that is true.  I have been doing my job just as I have always done.”

            Patricia leaned forward.  “That is part of the problem.”

            “What do you mean?”  Sonia dug her teeth into her lower lip again.

            “Your work in this hospital is not up to standards, Miss White.  This is not the first time I have received complaints about your shoddy work performance, but I have allowed it to pass.  After all, you are family, and I know you could not find another job without my assistance.”

            Sonia heaved in a gasp of air; it seemed thick, almost liquid, gagging her as it filled her lungs.

            Patricia continued, her voice smooth as oil.  “But I cannot continue to risk the health of those under the care of this institution.  I am sorry to inform you that as of today, your employment here at Grimmson is terminated.  Mrs. Todd will see to your paperwork.”

            Sonia could not move.  “I’m...You...You’re firing me?”

            “That is correct.”

            “Because I’m not good enough?”

            “Correct again.”  Patricia picked up a silver-plated pen and pulled a stack of paperwork toward her.  “That is all.”

            Sonia stood in the center of the room, statue-like, for what seemed like hours.  Thoughts sped through her mind like flies, too fast to catch.  Should I appeal? she thought.  Don’t be stupid.  Whom could I appeal to?  Who complained?  Did Dr. Woods complain about me?  Impossible; he’s the only person who’s been civil to me all week.  How could she do this to me?  Why?

            Sonia became aware that Patricia was staring at her, one neat eyebrow raised in challenge.  Patricia wanted her to appeal, she realized.  Her stepmother wanted to watch her beg for her job.  Sonia would not give her the pleasure.  She spun on her heel and walked stiffly to the door.

            Patricia waited until the door closed with a gentle click, then set down her pen.  A feral grin stretched her lipstick-reddened lips.  She ripped up the forged complaint letters she had made in case Sonia wanted to see them and dropped them into her wastepaper basket.  Then she slid the note “From One Concerned” from beneath her stack of forms and laughed.  “So much for you,” she crooned.  She took a cigarette lighter from a drawer and put the blue-orange flame to the corner of the paper.  “No more threats.”

            Tears blurred Sonia’s vision, but she managed to reach the elevator without incident.  She let her head fall forward against the mirrored wall and cried, drops of salt water splashing on the floor below.  Finally, the tears subsided and she reached for the buttons.  Looking down, she saw a pile of paperwork in her hand that she didn’t remember getting from the secretary.

            Fired.

            The word bounced off the walls of her mind.  She wiped her eyes and pushed the ground floor button.  She met no one on the way down, and, by keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the floor, she managed to avoid conversation until she reached Dr. Woods’ office.  She took a deep breath before tapping on the door.  She needed to tell him.

            “Come in,” he called.

            Sonia opened the door, and Dr. Woods gasped.  “Sonia, what’s wrong?  Are you all right?  What happened?”  He guided her to a seat.

            “Did you send in a complaint about me?” she asked quietly.

            “No.  Why?”  Wrinkles formed on his tall forehead.

            “Somebody did.  Several somebodies.  And she...she fired me.”

            “Who?”

            “Patricia.  Ms. Finch.”

            “She fired you?”

            Sonia was pleased that Dr. Woods sounded outraged.  “Yes.  No warnings or anything.”  She snorted.  “And I doubt I’ll get a recommendation letter for a new job from her.  Or anybody else, for that matter.”

            “I’ll write you the best letter you’ll ever get,” Dr. Woods replied firmly, turning to scribble a note, which he stuck to his computer screen.  “Don’t worry about that.”

            Sonia nodded.  “Well, I should go.  I wanted to let you know.”  She stood.

            Dr. Woods caught her arm.  “Sonia, please...”

            She pulled away.  “Daniel, I need to go.  I will talk to you later.  Maybe.”  She walked out the door, and he didn’t stop her.

            A familiar voice caught her attention as she plodded down the hallway.

            “I...no.  I won’t!”

            Sonia stopped in front of room 1473 -- Dan Hayes’ room.  Through the tiny window, she could see the stocky man pacing the length of the room, talking to himself.  Before she could talk herself out of it, she tapped on the door.  Dan looked up, startled, but broke into a grin when he saw her.  Sonia glanced up and down the hallway; satisfied no one was watching her, she slipped into the room.

            “Hello, Miss White!”  Dan said cheerfully.  “The doctor told me I might be able to go home soon!”

            “That’s wonderful!” Sonia exclaimed, and she meant it.  At least the world was bright for someone.

            Suddenly, Dan’s forehead wrinkled; the expression looked so much like Dr. Woods’ that Sonia experienced a brief moment of déjà vu.  “It’s very early for my medication,” he said.

            “I’m not here with your pills,” Sonia replied.

            He looked up, and sorrow flickered through his gentle brown eyes.  “Have you been crying?”

            “I’m afraid so.  I...I guess I wanted to say good-bye,” Sonia said, suddenly nervous.  Why had she come in here?  Maybe Patricia had been right about one thing.  Maybe she was emotionally involved with a patient.

            “You’re leaving?”  Dan’s lower lip quivered, but he set his jaw after a moment.

            Sonia smiled, glad to see that he was trying to fight off the other personalities.  “Yes.  I have to.”

            “They fired you?”  Dan stepped toward her.  When she nodded, he responded, “That’s awful.  It’s absurd!  It’s...it’s...”  He turned away from her.  “I’m sorry.  I’m working on controlling them.”

            “Don’t apologize.”  Sonia gently touched his shoulder.  “It’s nice to know somebody’s sad to see me go.”

            Dan turned around with a smile Sonia hadn’t seen before.  It took her a moment to identify it.  It was the smile of the real Dan, the one who was just beginning to emerge from underneath all the other Dans.  “Anybody would be sad to see you go.”

            Sonia couldn’t help it -- the smile was contagious.  Her lips pulled up and she smiled back at him.  “Thank you.”  It struck her again how absurd this was, and she stepped back.  “I have to go.”

            “May I give you one piece of advice?”

            “Don’t let it get to me?”  Sonia repeated his words from several days ago.

            “That, too.”  Dan drew himself up straight.  “Don’t be afraid.”

            Sonia smiled in fake appreciation, shook Dan’s hand, and left.  But his words still rang in her head when she got the phone call from Charles the next day.  She’d called him to tell him that she’d been fired, but had only gotten his voicemail.  She didn’t want to leave him that kind of message, so she’d only said they needed to talk.

            They met at the Chinese restaurant again, this time for lunch.  Charles reacted relatively well to the sudden news.

            “What are you going to do?” he asked after expressing his disbelief, anger, and confusion.

            “I’m not sure yet,” she replied.  She was trying not to think about the fact that she was now unemployed.  She had enough money in the bank to get her through a few months without any problems, so she had focused instead on the luxury of a few days of relaxation.  “Dr. Woods said he’d write me a referral letter, so I guess I’ll try to find another job.”

            “But...there aren’t any other mental institutions near here,” Charles said haltingly.

            Sonia shook her head.  “I’ll have to move.”

            Charles shook his head.  “No.  You can’t.”

            “Why not?” Sonia asked, confused.

            Charles flushed red.  “Because I was going to ask you out on a real date.”

            “You were?”  She was pleasantly surprised.

            “Yeah.”  He balled up his napkin.  “And it’ll be hard to take you out if you move away.”

            Sonia wondered if she should just agree that it would be hard and change the subject.  It would be easier to let it go.  But she wanted to go out with Charles and talk with him and listen to his laugh and talk about his artwork and forget Patricia and Grimmson and being fired.  “Don’t be afraid,” she whispered, remembering Dan’s advice.

            “What?”  Charles was watching her.

            Sonia blushed and waved a hand vaguely.  “Nothing.”  Then she reached out and covered one of his hands with hers.  “I’m not moving just yet, and my schedule is suddenly very free.”

            “So you’re saying you would go out with me?”

            “As long as you’re asking,” she replied gently.

            “Definitely.” 

            Charles leaned slowly toward her.  Sonia recognized the chivalry that gave her the opportunity to back away, but she leaned in and met him halfway across the little white-topped table.  The kiss was gentle and sweet, just as she thought it would be.  When they pulled back, Sonia realized she was grinning.  Maybe this unemployment thing wasn’t so bad.

            A week later, Sonia was leafing through a newspaper when a headline caught her eye.  “Investigation into Mental Hospital Fraud Infuriates Community.”  She read the article quickly, her smile growing by the moment.  Somebody, probably Dr. Woods, had gone to the Board of Trustees at Grimmson and told them about Patricia’s unjust actions.  An official inquiry had been launched.

            Two weeks after that, Sonia’s phone rang.  “Hello?”

            “Sonia, it’s Dr. Woods.”

            “Hello, Daniel.  How are you?” Sonia asked, pleased to hear his soothing voice.

            “I’m fine.  I have an offer for you.”

            “Shoot.”  Sonia was curious.

            “You may have read in the papers about the inquiry here.  Have you seen the latest?”

            “No.”  Sonia hadn’t looked at a paper in several days.

            “She got sacked.”

            “Who?”

            “Ms. Finch.  Officially, she stepped down, but the Board fired her.  And, after reviewing her records, they started making a few changes.  I’ve been authorized to hire you back on at Grimmson.”

            “I...I...”  Sonia wasn’t sure how to respond.  Patricia was fired?  That thought made her grin.  But did she want to go back to Grimmson?  That decision took only a moment’s thought.  “Daniel, I would love my job back.”

            “Wonderful!”  Dr. Woods practically yelled.

            Sonia giggled.  She’d never heard him this excited.

            “To be honest, I’ve missed you,” he said seriously.  “The new girl they assigned me was awful.  Awful!  But I’ll see you tomorrow?”

            “So soon?”  Sonia was taken off guard.

            “Whenever you want to, really.”

            “I’ll be in on Tuesday, then,” Sonia replied decisively.  She didn’t want to jump back into her hectic work life just yet.

            “Tuesday then.  Wonderful!”  Dr. Woods hung up without saying good-bye.

            Sonia stared at the phone and laughed until she thought her lungs would burst.

            Charles came into the kitchen from the living room, where they had been watching a movie.  “What happened?”

            Sonia told him, and he pulled her into a bear hug.  “I told you everything would work out.”

            She grinned up at him.  “Yes, you did.  Do you want a gold star?”

            “I have a better idea.”  With an impish grin, Charles leaned down and kissed her.

            After he pulled away, Sonia asked, “So does this mean happily ever after has started?”

            “I suppose it does.”

            “Good.”  Sonia leaned in for another kiss.

 

 

 

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