When Willow arrived home that evening, she expected to find her mother preparing dinner in the kitchen. The scent of food was in the air, but Willow wasn’t certain what it was. She walked into the kitchen to find Wyatt and Kreb eating out of take-out cartons and metal trays.
“Squirt.” said Wyatt, his mouth packed with food.
“Greetings, Krimble sibling,” said Kreb, shoving half of a burrito into his face
“Hey, guys. Where’s Mom?”
“Paged by the hospital … ” replied Wyatt, slurping noodles, “… two nurses called in sick … had to fill in … left money for take-out. Grab a plate.”
“I’m not really hungry,” said Willow, staring at what looked like two Neanderthals feasting over a fresh kill. “So, Mom’s at the hospital right now?”
“She’s been there for two hours already,” said Wyatt, lo mein dangling from his chin.
“Hmm ... ” Willow began thinking about all of the sick and injured patients lying in their hospital beds. “You know, maybe Mom would like some food.”
“Are you listening, Squirt? She’s not here.”
“I get it, big brother, but maybe I can bring her some food at work. Looks like you ordered enough for 10 people.”
“Or enough for two hulking athletes,” said Wyatt, licking the fingers on his right hand from the sparerib he just devoured while fist-pumping Kreb with his left.
Willow shook her head as she began filling up an empty carton for her mother.
“Guess I’m taking the bus today after all.”
It was 6:55pm when Willow arrived at Stratlin Medical. Visiting hours were over at 7pm, but Maurice, the security guard, recognized Willow and let her in.
“Know where the elevators are, do you?”
Willow nodded with a smile and headed to the elevator bank.
Upon arriving on the 2nd floor, Willow made her way to the nurses’ station, which usually housed at least one nurse behind the desk. Willow was surprised to find it empty.
Mrs. Krimble had just rounded the corner from the opposite end of the hallway when she spotted her daughter.
“What are you doing here, Sweetheart?”
“I just wanted to bring you some dinner. Wyatt ordered take-out.”
“Ooh - House Of Bamboozal?”
“Nah. Like I said, Wyatt ordered - Zen Loco’s.”
“Leave it to your brother to find the only Chinese/Mexican restaurant on the island. Thanks, baby.” Mrs. Krimble took the bag of food and sniffed it. “Mmmm, I’m starving, but it’ll have to wait. We’re so short-staffed tonight and I’m crazed.”
“Oh, I’ll get out of your way then.”
___________________________________
Page 41
“Willow, you are never in my way. Just give me 15 minutes to check on Mr. Krattlebrank in 258. He buzzes me every five minutes, claiming there are bats in his room. It takes me another 10 minutes to convince him they’re only fruit bats that aren’t interested in his blood because it’s easier than convincing him there’s nothing there. Oh, and he keeps on calling me 'Alice’. So sad - early stages of Alzheimer’s.
“His daughter was supposed to spend the night and see him into his wrist surgery in the morning, but she had an emergency with her son and ...” - Mrs. Krimble ran her fingers through both sides of her hair as if to squeeze her own head - “... this is shaping up to be quite a night.”
Willow spotted a large woman wearing a uniform similar to her mother’s, shuffling down the hall toward them.
“Samantha, did you give Mrs. Stigler her pain medication?” the woman asked, checking her clipboard, not bothering to look up at either Willow or Mrs. Krimble.
Mrs. Krimble checked her watch.
“On my way, Gladys. I’ll be right back, Willow. Just wait here by the desk.”
“Take your time, Mom.”
Willow watched as her mother ran down the hall and made a sharp right while the woman, who Willow assumed was her mother’s supervisor, walked in the opposite direction, never dislodging her gaze from her clipboard.
Willow suddenly found herself alone in the hallway. She could hear the sounds of several television sets playing in various rooms. An orderly appeared suddenly out of room 293. He gave Willow a quick smile, then dashed down the hall to his next task.
Suddenly, a number flashed in Willow’s mind: 258. That was the room her mother said Mr. Krattlebrank was in.
What did she say he had? Alzheimer’s? Willow tried casting her nerves aside.
Just go. Patients get visitors all the time.
Willow followed the numbers down the hall … 292, 291. This is the right way … 288 … must be through these doors … 261 … here it is - 258.
Willow walked into the room and knew at once the patient before her, out of bed and in his hospital gown, was Mr. Krattlebrank. He was a short, thin, balding old man with bandages around his left wrist. Whatever few hairs he had left on his head were disheveled, as if a huge gust of wind had just blown through the room. His television was tuned to a game show, but his attention was focused on the ceiling, or so it appeared to Willow.
It only took a few seconds for the old man to realize he had an unexpected visitor.
“’Bout time, Alice!” the patient barked. “There’s more of ‘em now … bats – bats everywhere!” He quickly ducked down as if to dodge something. “Afta my blood, but I keep tellin’ ‘em I ain’t got much left.” He ducked down again.
Willow approached the old man cautiously, staring up at the ceiling.
“But there are so many of them,” she said. “Maybe we can offer them something else so they’ll leave you alone.”
___________________________________
Page 42
“Blood, they wants blood! Ain’t got none ta give!” There was another ducking motion followed by a grunt.
Willow reached into her pocket and pulled out the mints Father Strauburn had given her.
“Well, I have something better than blood. Look, I’ve got … quipple seeds,” Willow said in a whisper.
Mr. Krattlebrank halted his bat-dodging for the moment.
“Watcha got?”
“Quipple seeds. Oh, surely you’ve heard of quipple seeds,” said Willow, holding out her hand, displaying the mints.
“’Course I hearda ‘em.… Whadda dey do again?”
“Well,” Willow continued, in a whisper, “bats love ‘em, more than anyone’s blood. But what they don’t’ realize until it’s too late …” - Willow motioned for Mr. Krattlebrank to come closer and he obliged - “… as soon as they eat them,” Willow whispered even more softly, “their wings freeze up and they fall to the ground, petrified.”
“Yeah?”
“And - oh this is the best part - their teeth fall out.”
“HEH! I know what dats like!” Mr. Krattlebrank smiled, displaying a total of nine teeth, pointing to his dentures on the stand next to his bed.
“Okay, here’s what we’ll do, ” Willow instructed, “on the count of three, I’m going to throw the quipple seeds into the air and then we have to take cover. We don’t want any bats crashing down on us once they freeze up.”
“Dem bats is in fer it. Yer a genius, Alice. A genius, ya hear?”
“As soon as I count to three, you run into bed, get under those covers and don’t come out ‘til I give you the ‘all-clear.’”
“Ooh Dem bats is gonna be sorry dey evah messed wit Cecil S. Krattlebrank.”
“Okay, ready? One ... two ... ” Willow counted, watching Mr. Krattlebrank rub his hands together in a scheming fashion “... THREE!” She threw the mints into the air.
Mr. Krattlebrank let out a squeal of delight as he darted for his bed. He threw the covers up over his head, mistaking the sounds of landing mints for crashing bats. Willow heard faint muttering coming from beneath the sheets, “Bats is gonna pay, but good. Heh, heh.”
After a few moments of Willow listening to Mr. Krattlebrank’s muffled commentary, she cautiously approached his bed and sat down beside him.
“Okay, Mr. Krattlebrank, all clear. The bats are all grounded. You can come out now.”
Like a child playing hide-and-seek, Mr. Krattlebrank flung the covers off of his head and bolted upright. He instantly threw his gaze to the floor.
“Look at ‘em all … lyin’ there,” he said, pointing to the floor, giggling. “I told ya Alice would fix yas,” he mocked before turning to Willow. “We did it, Alice … we got ‘em.”
“Yes ... we got ‘em,” said Willow, offering a slightly trembling hand to Mr. Krattlebrank.
___________________________________
Page 43
The old man stared at Willow for a moment. He glanced at her hand, then glared into her eyes, shifting his gaze back to her hand, then her eyes once again.
“Yer not Alice!” He tore his covers off entirely and slid out of bed.
“Where’s Alice? Whataya done wit ‘er?”
“Mr. Krattlebrank, please, I just - ”
“Ya thought ya could fool ol’ Cecil, eh? Not today!”
Mr. Krattlebrank shuffled toward the door and poked his head out.
“Security! Police!” he shouted. “We got an imposta here. Help! Someone, help da old man!”
“Please, Mr. Krattlebrank, I was trying to - ”
Willow heard footsteps running toward her direction and began to panic. Uncertain of her next move, she ran into the connecting bathroom and closed the door behind her just in time to hear a familiar voice.
“Mr. Krattlebrank …” said Mrs. Krimble, breathing heavily from her sprint, “… I thought I told you, those bats are not - ”
“Feget dem bats. We got bigga fish now!”
“What is it now, Mr. Krattlebrank?” asked Mrs. Krimble, exasperated.
“There’s a spy in dis here room. She’s hidin’ in the crappa.”
Mrs. Krimble suppressed a chuckle.
“Really now?”
“Yeah! We gots to shackle ‘er, Alice. Get out them shackles!”
Mrs. Krimble gently grabbed Mr. Krattlebrank by his right arm and led him back to his bed.
“Alright, Cecil, how about you get back into bed and get some rest while I check your bathroom.”
Mr. Krattlebrank walked back to his bed, stepping over, what he perceived to be, petrified bats. Mrs. Krimble glared at him curiously.
Mrs. Krimble tucked Mr. Krattlebrank under his sheets and assured him that she would search the bathroom on her way out. She opened the bathroom door and poked her head into the darkness, as Willow hid behind the door, holding her breath.
“Your spy seems to have climbed out the window, Mr. Krattlebrank. I’d better go and alert security.” Mrs. Krimble smirked at her own tall tale.
“Make sure dey use them big guns on dis one, Alice.”
“Of course; what else would they use? Now, close your eyes and get some rest ... you’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
Mr. Krattlebrank closed his eyes and continued mumbling to himself. Mrs. Krimble turned off the television set and flipped off the light switch as the sounds of her patient’s mutters serenaded her exit, “ … bats ... spies ... security ... guns - big guns ...”
Willow waited until her mother’s footsteps died away. She slowly opened the bathroom door and tiptoed out into the room toward the patient’s bed. She suddenly found herself looking down at Mr. Krattlebrank. His muttering had transformed into loud snores. The room was dark, the only light seeping in from the hallway and the tall street lamp shining through the blinds.
___________________________________
Page 44
Willow grabbed the old man’s left hand, gently grasping his fingertips. As she continued to gaze down at him, she found herself repeating the last thing she heard her mother say: “Get some rest, Mr. Krattlebrank ... you’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
The following morning, Willow was eating breakfast when her mother arrived from her shift, through the back door, looking exhausted.
“Gladys owes me big-time for last night,” said Mrs. Krimble, throwing her car keys onto the counter, collapsing into a chair next to Willow. “Honey, do you mind taking the bus this morning? I’ve got to get some sleep before my afternoon shift.”
“No problem, Mom. You know I don’t mind taking the bus to school. The stop is only two blocks away.”
“I know, but I cherish those extra minutes where I actually get to see you and - ” Mrs. Krimble tilted her head sideways to peak into her living room, spotting a vacant couch, “ - TV’s not on which can only mean one thing ... ”
“I told him to get up, but he just grunted something about being ‘tired from too much practice.’ He rolled over and went back to sleep.”
“WYATT!” bellowed Mrs. Krimble. “GET DOWN HERE - NOW! YOUR BUS LEAVES IN 25 MINUTES!”
Willow and Mrs. Krimble heard the bathroom door slam shut, signifying that the man of the house had finally awoken.
“So, what happened last night?”
“What do you mean?” replied Willow, facing her bowl of cornflakes.
“I came back to the desk, but you were gone.”
“Oh … I just realized how busy and short-staffed you were, so I figured I would leave you to it.”
“Well, I’ll be honest, I really was crazed. Buzzed by someone new every 10 minutes. You know I love what I do, but I can’t be the only one doing it; I only have two hands. And just before my shift ended, one of my patients, who was scheduled for wrist surgery, was ranting and raving how he didn’t need the operation, how ‘his wrist never felt better’, insisting on new X-Rays.”
Willow would not look at her mother for fear of revealing something about the previous night’s excursion.
“Why would he say those things?” she asked.
“Well, he has Alzheimer’s and he tends to get delusional. Last night he claimed there was a spy in his bathroom. This was after the bats flew all around his room. Anyway, his daughter showed up at 5am and said that her father seemed different; these weren’t his usual rantings and she begged us for new X-rays. It was really crazy, but the new tests showed that his arthritis was gone. Dr. Flirsten had no explanation for it. He also said that Mr. Krattlebrank (Willow dropped her spoon in her bowl at the name) seemed different this morning. He was much easier to reason with and his ramblings had ceased. They’re performing more tests today before they release him. What a night … what a morning!”
___________________________________
Page 45
Willow pensively placed her bowl in the sink as she heard Wyatt shuffle down the stairs and crumple onto the sofa.
“No you don’t, mister!” said Mrs. Krimble from her kitchen chair. “Eat something and get to walkin’.”
Wyatt grumbled something incoherent as he shuffled into the kitchen. Willow placed a clean bowl and a box of Cinnamon Pucks in front of him.
“Hey, Mom,” she said, “since we haven’t spent much time together, maybe I could come by the hospital again this afternoon.”
The school day seemed to pass uneventfully. Aside from some muttering in the hallways between classes as people stopped to catch a glimpse of “the girl who wiped-out on stage,” the day was more tolerable than Willow and Razzel had imagined. This was due, in part, to the fact that Shayla and Snella seemed too busy organizing the yearbook layout, or rather, delegating to others, that they weren’t even in all of their classes. “Great. They get to boss everyone around and take credit for everything while we’re stuck doing geometry,” Razzel protested.
Willow found it difficult to concentrate even in her favorite classes. As soon as the final bell sounded, Willow cleared out her locker and ran for the bus. She explained to Razzel that she had to hurry and catch the C-2 bus, which would drop her off two blocks away from Stratlin Medical.
Willow arrived at the hospital at 3:22pm and hastily made her way to the elevator bank. It wasn’t until she stepped into the elevator that she realized she had no idea what her next move should be. Should she ask her mother who the sickest patients were and sneak into their rooms, hoping no one else was visiting them? Should she check other floors and wings of the hospital that her mother wasn’t covering?
As the elevator doors opened to the 2nd floor, Willow’s mind raced with uncertainty.
This is crazy ... now what?
She found herself walking toward the nurses’ station when she saw a young woman in her 30’s, wheeling an old man in a wheelchair, who looked awfully familiar. They were accompanied by a middle-aged man wearing a white lab coat. They stopped right in front of the nurses’ station at the same moment Willow reached it. There was a young Indian Nurse behind the desk who spotted Willow.
“Hi, there,” said the nurse, smiling at Willow while stapling paperwork. “You’re Samantha’s youngest, aren’t you? We met at last year’s holiday party at The Lamppost Lounge.”
“Oh, right, hello ... Nurse Tilak,” replied Willow, quickly reading the nametag on the nurse’s uniform. “Have you seen my mom?” Even as Willow was asking her question, she was trying to listen in on the conversation taking place not more than two feet away from her. She could hear something about “test results.”
“She just went to check on a patient,” replied Nurse Tilak. “She should be back in a few minutes. You can come back behind the desk and take a seat if you like.”
___________________________________
Page 46
Willow appreciated the gesture, but remained rooted to her spot.
“Oh, no thanks. I’ll just hang out here and wait for her.”
“No problem,” said Nurse Tilak, turning around to file her paperwork.
Willow tried shuffling sideways to get closer to the trio she was eavesdropping on.
She could hear the Doctor more clearly now: “I keep telling your father I want him back in for some neuropsychological testing, but, of course, I can not force him. I’m very happy with his physical test results, but this sort of thing does not disappear and I want to study - ”
“I ain’t no lab rat, Doc! I told ya, I’ve nevva felt betta in my life, and I don’t need this stinkin’ wheelchair!”
“Now, Mr. Krattlebrank, I don’t know what happened with your wrist and I am in contact with your family physician to see what went awry with his original diagnosis, but I assure you that your ... other condition - ”
“I aint got that stinkin’ brain disease you keep talkin’ about!” Mr. Krattlebrank barked. “Sure, I don’t rememba much on how I even got ta dis place, but I’m tellin’ ya, I feel great!” Mr. Krattlebrank turned to the young girl beside him. “Sign me out and let’s get goin’. Dey bin pokin’ and prodin’ me fer hours.”
The woman who Willow now understood to be the old man’s daughter turned to the doctor.
“Thanks for everything, Doctor Flirsten, but I’ll take it from here. I’ll keep an eye on him at home and take notes on his behavior.”
“Very well, Mrs. Tartris,” said Dr. Flirsten, exasperated. “I’ll just sign your paperwork and you can take your father home.”
“’Bout freakin’ time,” growled Mr. Krattlebrank.
Willow slowly turned to the patient and his daughter, who was now kneeling before her father, to chance a look at them.
“You really do seem more like your old self, Pop.”
“’Course! Who else would I be like?” At that moment, Mr. Krattlebrank looked over his daughter’s shoulder and met Willow’s gaze. She quickly turned away.
“Hey … hey you!” the old man grumbled, as his daughter turned around and stood up to investigate her father’s beckon.
Willow pretended not to hear him.
“Little, lady!” Mr. Krattlebrank continued to summon.
Willow realized she needed to respond; she couldn’t continue pretending she didn’t hear the loud calls. She turned around slowly to address the old man in the wheelchair.
“Are you talking to me?”
“’Course I’m talkin’ ta you. Anyone else standin’ ova there?”
“Pop, don’t be rude,” said the old man’s daughter.
“A’right, a’right. I just wanted ta ask this lovely little lady where I seen her before, s’all.”
Willow swallowed hard.
“I don’t believe we’ve ever met before, sir.”
Mr. Krattlebrank visually surveyed Willow for a moment until an enlightened smile suddenly stretched across his face.
___________________________________
Page 47
“I know where I seen ya … ” he said, showing off his dentures, “ … you was in my room last night, wasn’tcha?”
“What ... no ... I couldn’t have, I - ”
“I’m sorry,” said the old man’s daughter, “Pop is sick and he - ”
“I ain’t sick, damn it!” snapped Mr. Krattlebrank. “And I know you (he pointed to Willow) was in my room last night, in a dream I had.”
Mr. Krattlebrank’s daughter gave Willow a flustered look.
“Pop, I think we should just - ”
“I dreamed I was being attacked by somethin’. Can’t rememba what exactly … ” - the old man scratched his head - “… then you showed up and you helped me. Yeah, that much I rememba.” Mr. Krattlebrank looked down toward the floor for a moment and squinted his eyes as if he was trying to recall something. He rummaged through his mind for what seemed to be a distant memory.
“I was lost somewhere; lost fer a long time. Things was chasin’ me and … and then ... ” - he looked up and met Willow’s eyes - “… then you came in and ... made them all go away. You ... you took hold’a my hand and ... showed me da way back so’s I wasn’t lost no more.”
Willow could see Mr. Krattlebrank’s bottom lip begin to quiver. His daughter looked at him anxiously. She knelt down by his side once more.
“Pop, are you alright?
Mr. Krattlebrank looked into his daughter’s eyes and nodded. As a tear streaked down his creased cheek, he gave her a broad smile.
“I’m betta than alright ... I’m back.”
Willow wasn’t certain how to respond; she couldn’t admit to anything, but she didn’t want to continue denying Mr. Krattebrank’s account for fear that his daughter would think he was delusional. She opted to simply remain in her spot, taking in the scene of a daughter comforting her father.
The moment was interrupted by a voice from behind the desk.
“Alright, Mrs. Tartris,” said Dr. Flirsten, “if you can just sign your full name here … ”
The old man’s daughter stood up and signed her name on the slip presented to her. Dr. Flirsten collected it back from her for examination.
“Alice?” he said with a smile. “Alice Tartris? Alice is also my daughter’s name. Look at that, Mr. Krattlebrank … ” Dr. Flirsten spoke as if his patient was five years old, “ … you and I have something in common.”
Mr. Krattlebrank ignored this statement, as he focused once again on Willow. His daughter thanked Dr. Flirsten one final time as he reminded her that her father’s “condition” would cause his memory to come and go. Mr. Krattlebrank could hear Dr. Flirsten, but continued to ignore him.
As Mr. Krattlebrank’s daughter began to wheel him away from the desk, he reached out and grabbed Willow’s wrist, forcing his daughter to stop.
“Dad, we really should leave this poor girl alone, you - ”
“Ya don’t suppose I’m a wacko, do ya, kid?” the old man asked Willow.
Willow glared at him for moment. She wanted to tell him that he certainly was not “wacko”; that he was healed; that he needn’t bother returning to the hospital for further testing, but she knew these words were not an option. She knelt down beside her former patient’s wheelchair and lay her hand on top of his. She looked him straight in his moist eyes as she chose her words carefully:
___________________________________
Page 48
“I would bet that you’re just as sane as I am.” She leaned in closer and lowered her voice to a whisper, “Maybe everyone else around here is wacko.”
The old man smiled. Willow looked up at his daughter.
“But it looks like you’re in pretty good hands.”
Mr. Krattlebrank glanced at his daughter and let out a chuckle. He then turned his gaze back to Willow.
“Ya got that right, kiddo.” He tapped Willow on the top of her hand three times as if saying goodbye to an old friend, and then slowly retracted both his hands as Willow stood back up.
Mr. Krattlebrank’s daughter began to wheel her father toward the elevator. Willow noticed her mouth the words “thank you” to her as she rounded the corner. Willow nodded in return.
“What was that all about?” asked Mrs. Krimble who had been standing there for an indefinite amount of time.
Willow turned to her mother.
“Just saying goodbye to a new friend.”
Dr. Flirsten was still standing behind the desk, jotting something on his clipboard.
“Poor guy …” he said, shaking his head, “… carrying on about being chased by creatures and then being saved in his dreams by a complete stranger. Only going to get worse.”
Willow was frustrated by Dr. Flirsten’s pessimism. Sure, he didn’t know the truth about what really happened, but did he have to be so cold and negative about it?
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Willow, “I think he might be just fine.”
Dr. Flirsten suddenly crossed his arms across his clipboard.
“Oh, and how many years of medical training have you had, young lady?” he said, condescendingly.
Willow turned red.
“I … just have a feeling - ”
“Oh, a feeling. Well … I guess the next time I need to diagnose a patient, there’s no need to perform any medical examinations; I can just ask you what you’re feeling. Then, you can give my patients false hope with your unprofessional, inexperienced prognosis!”
Willow was taken aback and did not quite know how to respond. Mrs. Krimble was furious. She opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it. After another moment of awkward silence, Dr. Flirsten stormed away, mumbling to himself, “ … feeling ... ”
Mrs. Krimble turned to her daughter.
“I’m so sorry, Willow. He can be a real jerk, but the last nurse that got on his bad side is on permanent night shift and I - ”
“It’s okay, Mom – forget it.”
“One of these days, I just might risk having to work the night shift, ” chimed Nurse Tilak from behind the desk. “I’d like to slap that arrogance right outta him.”
___________________________________
Page 49
Willow and her mother both laughed.
“You’re actually right on time for my break, Willow,” said Mrs. Krimble. “Come on, I’ll buy you a cup of tea. Want anything, Reena?”
“Ooh, yeah, bring me down some of those cider doughnuts,” replied Nurse Tilak. “The powdered kind.”
“You got it. Come this way, Willow; we can take the staff elevator.”
Willow and her mother needed to take the elevator up three flights to the 5th floor cafeteria. When the elevator stopped on the 3rd floor, a male and female nurse were waiting with their patient in a mobile bed.
“Afternoon, Samantha,” said the male nurse.
“How are you Scott … Christa?” Mrs. Krimble addressed her colleagues.
The nurses wheeled their patient onto the elevator. Willow looked at the bed and saw a teenage boy, blankets up to his neck, an oxygen mask over his mouth and some sort of monitoring mechanism attached to him.
“Movin’ Freddy here to ICU,” said the male nurse. “Just got outta surgery … really bad skateboarding accident … chest and ribs were in bad shape ... doctors pulled bone fragments out of his - oh you don’t need to hear about that. Parents are a real mess ... won’t know anything for sure for a while, but it’ll take a mira - oh, I’m sorry,” the rambling nurse finally spotted Willow in the corner behind him. “Didn’t see ya there, or I wouldn’ta gone on like that.”
“Scott, Christa, this my daughter, Willow. Willow, these are Nurses Scott Froutner and Christa Binter.”
“Oh, nice to meet you, Willow,” said Nurse Froutner while Nurse Binter merely nodded.
“Hi,” responded Willow, unable to make eye contact with the nurses when she spoke; her attention was completely occupied by the boy in the bed. She had to do something, but she couldn’t reach him from where she stood.
The elevator sounded when it reached the 4th floor.
“This is us,” said Nurse Froutner.
Willow watched in distress as the bed was wheeled off of the elevator. She had to act fast, but what could she do?
Just as the hind wheels rolled over the gap between the elevator and the floor ...
“WAIT!” Willow ran over to the boy in the bed and combed her fingers through his hair, lightly brushing his scalp. She then flicked her hand outside the open elevator door as her mother and the two other nurses stared at her, bemused.
“There was a spider on his head,” Willow lied. It was all she could think of. As she said it, she thought: A spider? In a sterile operating room? Really? You idiot!
“This damn place is infested,” said Nurse Froutner. “I found a huge spider in my locker last week! Damn thing was the size of a baby tarantula; webs all over my shoes. Thanks, Willow.”
Willow rejoined her mother on the elevator and watched the doors close as the two nurses wheeled their patient down the hall.
“That was a close call,” said Mrs. Krimble.
“It sure was … ”
Next Chapter
“Squirt.” said Wyatt, his mouth packed with food.
“Greetings, Krimble sibling,” said Kreb, shoving half of a burrito into his face
“Hey, guys. Where’s Mom?”
“Paged by the hospital … ” replied Wyatt, slurping noodles, “… two nurses called in sick … had to fill in … left money for take-out. Grab a plate.”
“I’m not really hungry,” said Willow, staring at what looked like two Neanderthals feasting over a fresh kill. “So, Mom’s at the hospital right now?”
“She’s been there for two hours already,” said Wyatt, lo mein dangling from his chin.
“Hmm ... ” Willow began thinking about all of the sick and injured patients lying in their hospital beds. “You know, maybe Mom would like some food.”
“Are you listening, Squirt? She’s not here.”
“I get it, big brother, but maybe I can bring her some food at work. Looks like you ordered enough for 10 people.”
“Or enough for two hulking athletes,” said Wyatt, licking the fingers on his right hand from the sparerib he just devoured while fist-pumping Kreb with his left.
Willow shook her head as she began filling up an empty carton for her mother.
“Guess I’m taking the bus today after all.”
It was 6:55pm when Willow arrived at Stratlin Medical. Visiting hours were over at 7pm, but Maurice, the security guard, recognized Willow and let her in.
“Know where the elevators are, do you?”
Willow nodded with a smile and headed to the elevator bank.
Upon arriving on the 2nd floor, Willow made her way to the nurses’ station, which usually housed at least one nurse behind the desk. Willow was surprised to find it empty.
Mrs. Krimble had just rounded the corner from the opposite end of the hallway when she spotted her daughter.
“What are you doing here, Sweetheart?”
“I just wanted to bring you some dinner. Wyatt ordered take-out.”
“Ooh - House Of Bamboozal?”
“Nah. Like I said, Wyatt ordered - Zen Loco’s.”
“Leave it to your brother to find the only Chinese/Mexican restaurant on the island. Thanks, baby.” Mrs. Krimble took the bag of food and sniffed it. “Mmmm, I’m starving, but it’ll have to wait. We’re so short-staffed tonight and I’m crazed.”
“Oh, I’ll get out of your way then.”
___________________________________
Page 41
“Willow, you are never in my way. Just give me 15 minutes to check on Mr. Krattlebrank in 258. He buzzes me every five minutes, claiming there are bats in his room. It takes me another 10 minutes to convince him they’re only fruit bats that aren’t interested in his blood because it’s easier than convincing him there’s nothing there. Oh, and he keeps on calling me 'Alice’. So sad - early stages of Alzheimer’s.
“His daughter was supposed to spend the night and see him into his wrist surgery in the morning, but she had an emergency with her son and ...” - Mrs. Krimble ran her fingers through both sides of her hair as if to squeeze her own head - “... this is shaping up to be quite a night.”
Willow spotted a large woman wearing a uniform similar to her mother’s, shuffling down the hall toward them.
“Samantha, did you give Mrs. Stigler her pain medication?” the woman asked, checking her clipboard, not bothering to look up at either Willow or Mrs. Krimble.
Mrs. Krimble checked her watch.
“On my way, Gladys. I’ll be right back, Willow. Just wait here by the desk.”
“Take your time, Mom.”
Willow watched as her mother ran down the hall and made a sharp right while the woman, who Willow assumed was her mother’s supervisor, walked in the opposite direction, never dislodging her gaze from her clipboard.
Willow suddenly found herself alone in the hallway. She could hear the sounds of several television sets playing in various rooms. An orderly appeared suddenly out of room 293. He gave Willow a quick smile, then dashed down the hall to his next task.
Suddenly, a number flashed in Willow’s mind: 258. That was the room her mother said Mr. Krattlebrank was in.
What did she say he had? Alzheimer’s? Willow tried casting her nerves aside.
Just go. Patients get visitors all the time.
Willow followed the numbers down the hall … 292, 291. This is the right way … 288 … must be through these doors … 261 … here it is - 258.
Willow walked into the room and knew at once the patient before her, out of bed and in his hospital gown, was Mr. Krattlebrank. He was a short, thin, balding old man with bandages around his left wrist. Whatever few hairs he had left on his head were disheveled, as if a huge gust of wind had just blown through the room. His television was tuned to a game show, but his attention was focused on the ceiling, or so it appeared to Willow.
It only took a few seconds for the old man to realize he had an unexpected visitor.
“’Bout time, Alice!” the patient barked. “There’s more of ‘em now … bats – bats everywhere!” He quickly ducked down as if to dodge something. “Afta my blood, but I keep tellin’ ‘em I ain’t got much left.” He ducked down again.
Willow approached the old man cautiously, staring up at the ceiling.
“But there are so many of them,” she said. “Maybe we can offer them something else so they’ll leave you alone.”
___________________________________
Page 42
“Blood, they wants blood! Ain’t got none ta give!” There was another ducking motion followed by a grunt.
Willow reached into her pocket and pulled out the mints Father Strauburn had given her.
“Well, I have something better than blood. Look, I’ve got … quipple seeds,” Willow said in a whisper.
Mr. Krattlebrank halted his bat-dodging for the moment.
“Watcha got?”
“Quipple seeds. Oh, surely you’ve heard of quipple seeds,” said Willow, holding out her hand, displaying the mints.
“’Course I hearda ‘em.… Whadda dey do again?”
“Well,” Willow continued, in a whisper, “bats love ‘em, more than anyone’s blood. But what they don’t’ realize until it’s too late …” - Willow motioned for Mr. Krattlebrank to come closer and he obliged - “… as soon as they eat them,” Willow whispered even more softly, “their wings freeze up and they fall to the ground, petrified.”
“Yeah?”
“And - oh this is the best part - their teeth fall out.”
“HEH! I know what dats like!” Mr. Krattlebrank smiled, displaying a total of nine teeth, pointing to his dentures on the stand next to his bed.
“Okay, here’s what we’ll do, ” Willow instructed, “on the count of three, I’m going to throw the quipple seeds into the air and then we have to take cover. We don’t want any bats crashing down on us once they freeze up.”
“Dem bats is in fer it. Yer a genius, Alice. A genius, ya hear?”
“As soon as I count to three, you run into bed, get under those covers and don’t come out ‘til I give you the ‘all-clear.’”
“Ooh Dem bats is gonna be sorry dey evah messed wit Cecil S. Krattlebrank.”
“Okay, ready? One ... two ... ” Willow counted, watching Mr. Krattlebrank rub his hands together in a scheming fashion “... THREE!” She threw the mints into the air.
Mr. Krattlebrank let out a squeal of delight as he darted for his bed. He threw the covers up over his head, mistaking the sounds of landing mints for crashing bats. Willow heard faint muttering coming from beneath the sheets, “Bats is gonna pay, but good. Heh, heh.”
After a few moments of Willow listening to Mr. Krattlebrank’s muffled commentary, she cautiously approached his bed and sat down beside him.
“Okay, Mr. Krattlebrank, all clear. The bats are all grounded. You can come out now.”
Like a child playing hide-and-seek, Mr. Krattlebrank flung the covers off of his head and bolted upright. He instantly threw his gaze to the floor.
“Look at ‘em all … lyin’ there,” he said, pointing to the floor, giggling. “I told ya Alice would fix yas,” he mocked before turning to Willow. “We did it, Alice … we got ‘em.”
“Yes ... we got ‘em,” said Willow, offering a slightly trembling hand to Mr. Krattlebrank.
___________________________________
Page 43
The old man stared at Willow for a moment. He glanced at her hand, then glared into her eyes, shifting his gaze back to her hand, then her eyes once again.
“Yer not Alice!” He tore his covers off entirely and slid out of bed.
“Where’s Alice? Whataya done wit ‘er?”
“Mr. Krattlebrank, please, I just - ”
“Ya thought ya could fool ol’ Cecil, eh? Not today!”
Mr. Krattlebrank shuffled toward the door and poked his head out.
“Security! Police!” he shouted. “We got an imposta here. Help! Someone, help da old man!”
“Please, Mr. Krattlebrank, I was trying to - ”
Willow heard footsteps running toward her direction and began to panic. Uncertain of her next move, she ran into the connecting bathroom and closed the door behind her just in time to hear a familiar voice.
“Mr. Krattlebrank …” said Mrs. Krimble, breathing heavily from her sprint, “… I thought I told you, those bats are not - ”
“Feget dem bats. We got bigga fish now!”
“What is it now, Mr. Krattlebrank?” asked Mrs. Krimble, exasperated.
“There’s a spy in dis here room. She’s hidin’ in the crappa.”
Mrs. Krimble suppressed a chuckle.
“Really now?”
“Yeah! We gots to shackle ‘er, Alice. Get out them shackles!”
Mrs. Krimble gently grabbed Mr. Krattlebrank by his right arm and led him back to his bed.
“Alright, Cecil, how about you get back into bed and get some rest while I check your bathroom.”
Mr. Krattlebrank walked back to his bed, stepping over, what he perceived to be, petrified bats. Mrs. Krimble glared at him curiously.
Mrs. Krimble tucked Mr. Krattlebrank under his sheets and assured him that she would search the bathroom on her way out. She opened the bathroom door and poked her head into the darkness, as Willow hid behind the door, holding her breath.
“Your spy seems to have climbed out the window, Mr. Krattlebrank. I’d better go and alert security.” Mrs. Krimble smirked at her own tall tale.
“Make sure dey use them big guns on dis one, Alice.”
“Of course; what else would they use? Now, close your eyes and get some rest ... you’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
Mr. Krattlebrank closed his eyes and continued mumbling to himself. Mrs. Krimble turned off the television set and flipped off the light switch as the sounds of her patient’s mutters serenaded her exit, “ … bats ... spies ... security ... guns - big guns ...”
Willow waited until her mother’s footsteps died away. She slowly opened the bathroom door and tiptoed out into the room toward the patient’s bed. She suddenly found herself looking down at Mr. Krattlebrank. His muttering had transformed into loud snores. The room was dark, the only light seeping in from the hallway and the tall street lamp shining through the blinds.
___________________________________
Page 44
Willow grabbed the old man’s left hand, gently grasping his fingertips. As she continued to gaze down at him, she found herself repeating the last thing she heard her mother say: “Get some rest, Mr. Krattlebrank ... you’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
The following morning, Willow was eating breakfast when her mother arrived from her shift, through the back door, looking exhausted.
“Gladys owes me big-time for last night,” said Mrs. Krimble, throwing her car keys onto the counter, collapsing into a chair next to Willow. “Honey, do you mind taking the bus this morning? I’ve got to get some sleep before my afternoon shift.”
“No problem, Mom. You know I don’t mind taking the bus to school. The stop is only two blocks away.”
“I know, but I cherish those extra minutes where I actually get to see you and - ” Mrs. Krimble tilted her head sideways to peak into her living room, spotting a vacant couch, “ - TV’s not on which can only mean one thing ... ”
“I told him to get up, but he just grunted something about being ‘tired from too much practice.’ He rolled over and went back to sleep.”
“WYATT!” bellowed Mrs. Krimble. “GET DOWN HERE - NOW! YOUR BUS LEAVES IN 25 MINUTES!”
Willow and Mrs. Krimble heard the bathroom door slam shut, signifying that the man of the house had finally awoken.
“So, what happened last night?”
“What do you mean?” replied Willow, facing her bowl of cornflakes.
“I came back to the desk, but you were gone.”
“Oh … I just realized how busy and short-staffed you were, so I figured I would leave you to it.”
“Well, I’ll be honest, I really was crazed. Buzzed by someone new every 10 minutes. You know I love what I do, but I can’t be the only one doing it; I only have two hands. And just before my shift ended, one of my patients, who was scheduled for wrist surgery, was ranting and raving how he didn’t need the operation, how ‘his wrist never felt better’, insisting on new X-Rays.”
Willow would not look at her mother for fear of revealing something about the previous night’s excursion.
“Why would he say those things?” she asked.
“Well, he has Alzheimer’s and he tends to get delusional. Last night he claimed there was a spy in his bathroom. This was after the bats flew all around his room. Anyway, his daughter showed up at 5am and said that her father seemed different; these weren’t his usual rantings and she begged us for new X-rays. It was really crazy, but the new tests showed that his arthritis was gone. Dr. Flirsten had no explanation for it. He also said that Mr. Krattlebrank (Willow dropped her spoon in her bowl at the name) seemed different this morning. He was much easier to reason with and his ramblings had ceased. They’re performing more tests today before they release him. What a night … what a morning!”
___________________________________
Page 45
Willow pensively placed her bowl in the sink as she heard Wyatt shuffle down the stairs and crumple onto the sofa.
“No you don’t, mister!” said Mrs. Krimble from her kitchen chair. “Eat something and get to walkin’.”
Wyatt grumbled something incoherent as he shuffled into the kitchen. Willow placed a clean bowl and a box of Cinnamon Pucks in front of him.
“Hey, Mom,” she said, “since we haven’t spent much time together, maybe I could come by the hospital again this afternoon.”
The school day seemed to pass uneventfully. Aside from some muttering in the hallways between classes as people stopped to catch a glimpse of “the girl who wiped-out on stage,” the day was more tolerable than Willow and Razzel had imagined. This was due, in part, to the fact that Shayla and Snella seemed too busy organizing the yearbook layout, or rather, delegating to others, that they weren’t even in all of their classes. “Great. They get to boss everyone around and take credit for everything while we’re stuck doing geometry,” Razzel protested.
Willow found it difficult to concentrate even in her favorite classes. As soon as the final bell sounded, Willow cleared out her locker and ran for the bus. She explained to Razzel that she had to hurry and catch the C-2 bus, which would drop her off two blocks away from Stratlin Medical.
Willow arrived at the hospital at 3:22pm and hastily made her way to the elevator bank. It wasn’t until she stepped into the elevator that she realized she had no idea what her next move should be. Should she ask her mother who the sickest patients were and sneak into their rooms, hoping no one else was visiting them? Should she check other floors and wings of the hospital that her mother wasn’t covering?
As the elevator doors opened to the 2nd floor, Willow’s mind raced with uncertainty.
This is crazy ... now what?
She found herself walking toward the nurses’ station when she saw a young woman in her 30’s, wheeling an old man in a wheelchair, who looked awfully familiar. They were accompanied by a middle-aged man wearing a white lab coat. They stopped right in front of the nurses’ station at the same moment Willow reached it. There was a young Indian Nurse behind the desk who spotted Willow.
“Hi, there,” said the nurse, smiling at Willow while stapling paperwork. “You’re Samantha’s youngest, aren’t you? We met at last year’s holiday party at The Lamppost Lounge.”
“Oh, right, hello ... Nurse Tilak,” replied Willow, quickly reading the nametag on the nurse’s uniform. “Have you seen my mom?” Even as Willow was asking her question, she was trying to listen in on the conversation taking place not more than two feet away from her. She could hear something about “test results.”
“She just went to check on a patient,” replied Nurse Tilak. “She should be back in a few minutes. You can come back behind the desk and take a seat if you like.”
___________________________________
Page 46
Willow appreciated the gesture, but remained rooted to her spot.
“Oh, no thanks. I’ll just hang out here and wait for her.”
“No problem,” said Nurse Tilak, turning around to file her paperwork.
Willow tried shuffling sideways to get closer to the trio she was eavesdropping on.
She could hear the Doctor more clearly now: “I keep telling your father I want him back in for some neuropsychological testing, but, of course, I can not force him. I’m very happy with his physical test results, but this sort of thing does not disappear and I want to study - ”
“I ain’t no lab rat, Doc! I told ya, I’ve nevva felt betta in my life, and I don’t need this stinkin’ wheelchair!”
“Now, Mr. Krattlebrank, I don’t know what happened with your wrist and I am in contact with your family physician to see what went awry with his original diagnosis, but I assure you that your ... other condition - ”
“I aint got that stinkin’ brain disease you keep talkin’ about!” Mr. Krattlebrank barked. “Sure, I don’t rememba much on how I even got ta dis place, but I’m tellin’ ya, I feel great!” Mr. Krattlebrank turned to the young girl beside him. “Sign me out and let’s get goin’. Dey bin pokin’ and prodin’ me fer hours.”
The woman who Willow now understood to be the old man’s daughter turned to the doctor.
“Thanks for everything, Doctor Flirsten, but I’ll take it from here. I’ll keep an eye on him at home and take notes on his behavior.”
“Very well, Mrs. Tartris,” said Dr. Flirsten, exasperated. “I’ll just sign your paperwork and you can take your father home.”
“’Bout freakin’ time,” growled Mr. Krattlebrank.
Willow slowly turned to the patient and his daughter, who was now kneeling before her father, to chance a look at them.
“You really do seem more like your old self, Pop.”
“’Course! Who else would I be like?” At that moment, Mr. Krattlebrank looked over his daughter’s shoulder and met Willow’s gaze. She quickly turned away.
“Hey … hey you!” the old man grumbled, as his daughter turned around and stood up to investigate her father’s beckon.
Willow pretended not to hear him.
“Little, lady!” Mr. Krattlebrank continued to summon.
Willow realized she needed to respond; she couldn’t continue pretending she didn’t hear the loud calls. She turned around slowly to address the old man in the wheelchair.
“Are you talking to me?”
“’Course I’m talkin’ ta you. Anyone else standin’ ova there?”
“Pop, don’t be rude,” said the old man’s daughter.
“A’right, a’right. I just wanted ta ask this lovely little lady where I seen her before, s’all.”
Willow swallowed hard.
“I don’t believe we’ve ever met before, sir.”
Mr. Krattlebrank visually surveyed Willow for a moment until an enlightened smile suddenly stretched across his face.
___________________________________
Page 47
“I know where I seen ya … ” he said, showing off his dentures, “ … you was in my room last night, wasn’tcha?”
“What ... no ... I couldn’t have, I - ”
“I’m sorry,” said the old man’s daughter, “Pop is sick and he - ”
“I ain’t sick, damn it!” snapped Mr. Krattlebrank. “And I know you (he pointed to Willow) was in my room last night, in a dream I had.”
Mr. Krattlebrank’s daughter gave Willow a flustered look.
“Pop, I think we should just - ”
“I dreamed I was being attacked by somethin’. Can’t rememba what exactly … ” - the old man scratched his head - “… then you showed up and you helped me. Yeah, that much I rememba.” Mr. Krattlebrank looked down toward the floor for a moment and squinted his eyes as if he was trying to recall something. He rummaged through his mind for what seemed to be a distant memory.
“I was lost somewhere; lost fer a long time. Things was chasin’ me and … and then ... ” - he looked up and met Willow’s eyes - “… then you came in and ... made them all go away. You ... you took hold’a my hand and ... showed me da way back so’s I wasn’t lost no more.”
Willow could see Mr. Krattlebrank’s bottom lip begin to quiver. His daughter looked at him anxiously. She knelt down by his side once more.
“Pop, are you alright?
Mr. Krattlebrank looked into his daughter’s eyes and nodded. As a tear streaked down his creased cheek, he gave her a broad smile.
“I’m betta than alright ... I’m back.”
Willow wasn’t certain how to respond; she couldn’t admit to anything, but she didn’t want to continue denying Mr. Krattebrank’s account for fear that his daughter would think he was delusional. She opted to simply remain in her spot, taking in the scene of a daughter comforting her father.
The moment was interrupted by a voice from behind the desk.
“Alright, Mrs. Tartris,” said Dr. Flirsten, “if you can just sign your full name here … ”
The old man’s daughter stood up and signed her name on the slip presented to her. Dr. Flirsten collected it back from her for examination.
“Alice?” he said with a smile. “Alice Tartris? Alice is also my daughter’s name. Look at that, Mr. Krattlebrank … ” Dr. Flirsten spoke as if his patient was five years old, “ … you and I have something in common.”
Mr. Krattlebrank ignored this statement, as he focused once again on Willow. His daughter thanked Dr. Flirsten one final time as he reminded her that her father’s “condition” would cause his memory to come and go. Mr. Krattlebrank could hear Dr. Flirsten, but continued to ignore him.
As Mr. Krattlebrank’s daughter began to wheel him away from the desk, he reached out and grabbed Willow’s wrist, forcing his daughter to stop.
“Dad, we really should leave this poor girl alone, you - ”
“Ya don’t suppose I’m a wacko, do ya, kid?” the old man asked Willow.
Willow glared at him for moment. She wanted to tell him that he certainly was not “wacko”; that he was healed; that he needn’t bother returning to the hospital for further testing, but she knew these words were not an option. She knelt down beside her former patient’s wheelchair and lay her hand on top of his. She looked him straight in his moist eyes as she chose her words carefully:
___________________________________
Page 48
“I would bet that you’re just as sane as I am.” She leaned in closer and lowered her voice to a whisper, “Maybe everyone else around here is wacko.”
The old man smiled. Willow looked up at his daughter.
“But it looks like you’re in pretty good hands.”
Mr. Krattlebrank glanced at his daughter and let out a chuckle. He then turned his gaze back to Willow.
“Ya got that right, kiddo.” He tapped Willow on the top of her hand three times as if saying goodbye to an old friend, and then slowly retracted both his hands as Willow stood back up.
Mr. Krattlebrank’s daughter began to wheel her father toward the elevator. Willow noticed her mouth the words “thank you” to her as she rounded the corner. Willow nodded in return.
“What was that all about?” asked Mrs. Krimble who had been standing there for an indefinite amount of time.
Willow turned to her mother.
“Just saying goodbye to a new friend.”
Dr. Flirsten was still standing behind the desk, jotting something on his clipboard.
“Poor guy …” he said, shaking his head, “… carrying on about being chased by creatures and then being saved in his dreams by a complete stranger. Only going to get worse.”
Willow was frustrated by Dr. Flirsten’s pessimism. Sure, he didn’t know the truth about what really happened, but did he have to be so cold and negative about it?
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Willow, “I think he might be just fine.”
Dr. Flirsten suddenly crossed his arms across his clipboard.
“Oh, and how many years of medical training have you had, young lady?” he said, condescendingly.
Willow turned red.
“I … just have a feeling - ”
“Oh, a feeling. Well … I guess the next time I need to diagnose a patient, there’s no need to perform any medical examinations; I can just ask you what you’re feeling. Then, you can give my patients false hope with your unprofessional, inexperienced prognosis!”
Willow was taken aback and did not quite know how to respond. Mrs. Krimble was furious. She opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it. After another moment of awkward silence, Dr. Flirsten stormed away, mumbling to himself, “ … feeling ... ”
Mrs. Krimble turned to her daughter.
“I’m so sorry, Willow. He can be a real jerk, but the last nurse that got on his bad side is on permanent night shift and I - ”
“It’s okay, Mom – forget it.”
“One of these days, I just might risk having to work the night shift, ” chimed Nurse Tilak from behind the desk. “I’d like to slap that arrogance right outta him.”
___________________________________
Page 49
Willow and her mother both laughed.
“You’re actually right on time for my break, Willow,” said Mrs. Krimble. “Come on, I’ll buy you a cup of tea. Want anything, Reena?”
“Ooh, yeah, bring me down some of those cider doughnuts,” replied Nurse Tilak. “The powdered kind.”
“You got it. Come this way, Willow; we can take the staff elevator.”
Willow and her mother needed to take the elevator up three flights to the 5th floor cafeteria. When the elevator stopped on the 3rd floor, a male and female nurse were waiting with their patient in a mobile bed.
“Afternoon, Samantha,” said the male nurse.
“How are you Scott … Christa?” Mrs. Krimble addressed her colleagues.
The nurses wheeled their patient onto the elevator. Willow looked at the bed and saw a teenage boy, blankets up to his neck, an oxygen mask over his mouth and some sort of monitoring mechanism attached to him.
“Movin’ Freddy here to ICU,” said the male nurse. “Just got outta surgery … really bad skateboarding accident … chest and ribs were in bad shape ... doctors pulled bone fragments out of his - oh you don’t need to hear about that. Parents are a real mess ... won’t know anything for sure for a while, but it’ll take a mira - oh, I’m sorry,” the rambling nurse finally spotted Willow in the corner behind him. “Didn’t see ya there, or I wouldn’ta gone on like that.”
“Scott, Christa, this my daughter, Willow. Willow, these are Nurses Scott Froutner and Christa Binter.”
“Oh, nice to meet you, Willow,” said Nurse Froutner while Nurse Binter merely nodded.
“Hi,” responded Willow, unable to make eye contact with the nurses when she spoke; her attention was completely occupied by the boy in the bed. She had to do something, but she couldn’t reach him from where she stood.
The elevator sounded when it reached the 4th floor.
“This is us,” said Nurse Froutner.
Willow watched in distress as the bed was wheeled off of the elevator. She had to act fast, but what could she do?
Just as the hind wheels rolled over the gap between the elevator and the floor ...
“WAIT!” Willow ran over to the boy in the bed and combed her fingers through his hair, lightly brushing his scalp. She then flicked her hand outside the open elevator door as her mother and the two other nurses stared at her, bemused.
“There was a spider on his head,” Willow lied. It was all she could think of. As she said it, she thought: A spider? In a sterile operating room? Really? You idiot!
“This damn place is infested,” said Nurse Froutner. “I found a huge spider in my locker last week! Damn thing was the size of a baby tarantula; webs all over my shoes. Thanks, Willow.”
Willow rejoined her mother on the elevator and watched the doors close as the two nurses wheeled their patient down the hall.
“That was a close call,” said Mrs. Krimble.
“It sure was … ”
Next Chapter
