Chapter 8: The Office

Edie's drawing was taped to the wall over my bed.

The day nurse had done it, humming. "There. Something nice to look at."

I looked at it for nine hours.

Goodbye Mommy. I miss you.

At ten the night shift came on, and I stopped looking at it, because I had work to do.

At eleven-fifty the orderly came in to check me.

She stood at the foot of the bed and turned her flashlight off.

"Matthew says you're out of your mind," she said quietly.

"He's right."

"He also says he's at the gate and he's got a spare tire this time." She almost smiled. "Are the women ready?"

"They've been ready since lunch."

"The office key's on the board behind the station. Ring with a green tag."

She looked at the door.

"The night nurse never takes her eyes off that board. Unless something's on fire."

"Something's going to be on fire."

At twelve-oh-five, something was.

It started with a scream from the far end of the hall.

"She took my pudding!"

It was the girl.

Her voice cracked.

"I did not take your pudding," the professor's wife said, very loud and very clear.

"I have never in my life taken anyone's pudding. I have a doctorate."

"It was chocolate! She hid it in her robe!"

"It was tapioca, and it was mine!"

Something crashed.

A chair, I thought. Or the plastic water jug from the dayroom.

"Ladies!" the night nurse called. "Ladies, back to your rooms!"

Her chair rolled. Her shoes squeaked across the station floor.

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