she was so damn bored staying up with no one to talk to. Maybe she could help Darlene. Darlene was always willing to give her something to do. Part of it was propaganda: showing her the wonders of nursing. Every time Cindy did something, Darlene would praise her to high heaven and tell her what a wonderful nurse she’d make, how the profession needed smart, dedicated people like herself. Cindy took the compliment but tuned out the message. Though she’d learned that nursing was a lot more than changing bedpans, she’d also sensed that the profession was a lot of hard work and responsibility for the compensation. Always under a doctor’s orders…
Not that power and money were important to her. But passion was. She didn’t feel passionate about nursing, not like she did about criminal sciences.
Cindy blinked several times, then stared out the window to the nursery. Lightly, she massaged her temples, trying to rub away the small throbs of an upcoming headache. Headaches just like Dad’s, only sometimes hers turned to migraines. Dad said he had them in his younger days. The wonders of genetics. It was all the noise. The babies going at it without coming up for air—so loud.
Carefully, she tiptoed to the main section of the nursery, her eyes falling on the layettes aligned in teeth-comb order. No one was around—not Marie, not Darlene, not any of the other nurses. Distressed-infant cries were echoing off the walls.
Cindy felt strange and suddenly cold.
She called out a hello, projecting so she could be heard over the squeaks and wails.
No answer.
Wrapping her arms around her chest, she walked over to the layettes. Baby Girl Jackson’s diapers had leaked onto theblanket. Spencer Dole had become completely untucked, the blanket loosely covering the infant’s face. My God, even Baby Boy Yamata was crying. He had spit up on his blanket, black hair wet and sticky.
Cindy pulled the coverlet off Spencer’s face and placed the red-faced little baby boy on his stomach after reswaddling his body. Comfortable and cozy, the infant immediately fell asleep as he sucked on his fingers. She cleaned Baby Boy Yamata’s face with a sterile wipe, wrapped him in a clean blanket, and placed him on his stomach. That was his position of choice. He closed dark eyes and drifted off to baby slumberland.
She looked around. Alone and anxious, she changed Baby Girl Jackson’s diaper, hoping no one would walk in and think she was molesting the infants. She knew she had no business touching the babies, but no one was in sight.
Something was wrong.
She looked inside the glass window of the nurses’ station for Nursery J.
Empty.
Where the heck were Marie and Darlene?
Cindy looked at the clock, looked at the window, looked at the babies, her mind dizzy with indecision. She started toward the yellow line, but realized she was suited up. If she crossed the border, would she have to regown in order to get back to Hannah? She didn’t even know where the nurses kept the gowns.
Then she saw the wall phone and a directory posted to the phone’s immediate right. She dialed the exchange for Front Desk. The phone rang and rang, and no one answered. Then she tried the hospital operator, who answered after ten rings. Cindy explained the situation to the operator and was then connected back to the front desk. Again no one answered.
Darlene had said there had been some major cutbacks at the hospital, but this was ridiculous ! Suppose Cindy was a sick person who needed help? Or suppose she was calling for one of the babies who needed help? What a disaster thatwould be. Her mind was suddenly besieged with worst-case play-outs.
The clock read 1:45.
All of a sudden, time was moving quickly.
Two experienced nurses supposedly on shift, and there wasn’t a soul in sight.
What to do, what to do?
Give it another five minutes.
And then what would she do?
At two, she tried the front desk again.
No one.
Where was everyone? A baby could be choking or
Not that power and money were important to her. But passion was. She didn’t feel passionate about nursing, not like she did about criminal sciences.
Cindy blinked several times, then stared out the window to the nursery. Lightly, she massaged her temples, trying to rub away the small throbs of an upcoming headache. Headaches just like Dad’s, only sometimes hers turned to migraines. Dad said he had them in his younger days. The wonders of genetics. It was all the noise. The babies going at it without coming up for air—so loud.
Carefully, she tiptoed to the main section of the nursery, her eyes falling on the layettes aligned in teeth-comb order. No one was around—not Marie, not Darlene, not any of the other nurses. Distressed-infant cries were echoing off the walls.
Cindy felt strange and suddenly cold.
She called out a hello, projecting so she could be heard over the squeaks and wails.
No answer.
Wrapping her arms around her chest, she walked over to the layettes. Baby Girl Jackson’s diapers had leaked onto theblanket. Spencer Dole had become completely untucked, the blanket loosely covering the infant’s face. My God, even Baby Boy Yamata was crying. He had spit up on his blanket, black hair wet and sticky.
Cindy pulled the coverlet off Spencer’s face and placed the red-faced little baby boy on his stomach after reswaddling his body. Comfortable and cozy, the infant immediately fell asleep as he sucked on his fingers. She cleaned Baby Boy Yamata’s face with a sterile wipe, wrapped him in a clean blanket, and placed him on his stomach. That was his position of choice. He closed dark eyes and drifted off to baby slumberland.
She looked around. Alone and anxious, she changed Baby Girl Jackson’s diaper, hoping no one would walk in and think she was molesting the infants. She knew she had no business touching the babies, but no one was in sight.
Something was wrong.
She looked inside the glass window of the nurses’ station for Nursery J.
Empty.
Where the heck were Marie and Darlene?
Cindy looked at the clock, looked at the window, looked at the babies, her mind dizzy with indecision. She started toward the yellow line, but realized she was suited up. If she crossed the border, would she have to regown in order to get back to Hannah? She didn’t even know where the nurses kept the gowns.
Then she saw the wall phone and a directory posted to the phone’s immediate right. She dialed the exchange for Front Desk. The phone rang and rang, and no one answered. Then she tried the hospital operator, who answered after ten rings. Cindy explained the situation to the operator and was then connected back to the front desk. Again no one answered.
Darlene had said there had been some major cutbacks at the hospital, but this was ridiculous ! Suppose Cindy was a sick person who needed help? Or suppose she was calling for one of the babies who needed help? What a disaster thatwould be. Her mind was suddenly besieged with worst-case play-outs.
The clock read 1:45.
All of a sudden, time was moving quickly.
Two experienced nurses supposedly on shift, and there wasn’t a soul in sight.
What to do, what to do?
Give it another five minutes.
And then what would she do?
At two, she tried the front desk again.
No one.
Where was everyone? A baby could be choking or
Similar Books
