One Dead Under the Cuckoo's Nest by Lori Avocato Page A

her. “Sometimes it takes a while to get used to the medication.”
    Get used to! Some psychedelic pill had me hallucinating the rain forest in my tiny, stark room, and I had no damn intention of getting used to it or taking a pill again.
    I inhaled and wanted to ask her what the hell I had been forced to swallow, but it probably was some usual “cocktail” they gave all the newly admitted patients. Maybe Jagger had prevented them from giving me one the other day, but he might have a harder time going up against the head of this place.
    I shut my eyes a second to think and ask myself what the hell I was going to do next.
    The only question that came to mind was, Had someone really come into my room or not ?

Eight
    Once Sister Liz had left my room, I made my way to the nurses’ station on wobbly legs. “I want to see my doctor immediately,” I said to Novitiate Lalli, who was behind the glass window typing on a keyboard.
    She kept typing until she appeared to be done.
    I wanted to bang on the window, but thought better than to do that. “Sister?”
    Finally she looked up. “Doctor’s name?”
    â€œPlummer. Dr. Plummer.” Thank goodness I remembered this time.
    She reached for the list of phone numbers then looked up at me. “You know, your psychiatrist is not at your every beck and call, Pauline. He has other patients too.”
    Yeah, right. Not my psychiatrist.
    She leaned closer and eyed me up and down. “You don’t look so great, so I’ll call him this time. But don’t be surprised if he reprimands you. Go sit in the dayroom.”
    I think she smirked at me.
    I bit back that he had left orders to call him whenever I wanted. No sense in making enemies around here. I didn’t know who I could trust or who I should watch out for.
    On my way to the dayroom, I said a silent prayer that she’d learn more compassion if she was serious about this nun thing. Before I knew it, Spike came bounding down the hallway. Oh, boy. I grabbed a pillow, sat and became a statue.
    He came so close to me I could smell that he’d recently had a cigarette. “Your doc is here. Get up.”
    I sprung up like a Jack in the box so he wouldn’t manhandle me. I had visions of poor Margaret, whom I hadn’t seen today yet, being shoved around by Spike. Of course, the stupid Green Demon had me knocked out for so many hours that Margaret could be asleep along with all the other patients. Without windows in the room, I couldn’t tell if it was day or night.
    â€œLead the way,” I said to Spike with a bit of humor that went way over his basketball-sized head.
    Once down the hallway, I paused. Through a window in a door I could see someone, one of the patients who looked a bit like Jackie Dee, wrapped in white sheets, lying still on a twin bed with rails, and some nun I didn’t recognize was sitting at the side.
    While I was zonked out, Jackie must have had some kind of incident that landed her in cold wet packs. My heart broke as I walked past the room, unable to do anything to help. I had to constantly remind myself that this was a hospital, and although some of us really didn’t belong here, most actually did.
    Spike opened the door to the doctor’s office. I held my breath for a second. Jagger sat on the end of the examining table. He looked as if he’d walked in off the street. Although in full character makeup, he hadn’t bothered to put on a white coat.
    Damn. The medication must still be in my system.
    â€œHere she is, Doc,” Spike said and promptly headed off after Jagger nodded at him.

    He looked at me and said, “Close the door.”
    I did and turned around to him, thinking he’d move and let me take the table. But no, he remained, so I sat in the rolling doctor’s chair. I wheeled closer to him.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?”
    â€œI . . . Barbie gave me a green