deep enough for a machinery accident, yet it wasn’t ragged like an animal bite. Whatever it was, it would make an impressive scar, one that even dwarfed the marks spitting fires had left on his arms.
She lifted the patient’s arm and wound bindings underneath, over his shoulder, and around his neck to hold the pad. He groaned again.
Ozzie bit her lower lip. She worked fast and gently.
She tucked his arm back next to him on the surgery bed. He shifted. His eyes opened briefly. They were soft and brown, nothing like his rugged face.
“Take him to the empty room beside the last one,” Dr. Sims ordered. “We’ll keep him as long as we have the room for charity.”
Without another word, he walked out of the room. Ozzie watched him go. The orderlies lifted the man from the table and laid him into one of the wheeled chairs that sat along the wall. The patient’s head rocked back and forth as he came out of the ether-coma.
When she was certain Dr. Sims was out of earshot, Ozzie called to the orderlies. “Jim, Mike, do either of you have a key to chemical cabinet?”
“No, ma’am,” the taller of the two orderlies, Jim, told her. “The doctors keep those keys. And Mrs. Netter for when she has to count them at the end of the month.”
Ozzie nodded. “Hm.”
“This about the missing ether?” Mike asked, his voice deeper than Jim’s.
Ozzie nodded again. “Yes.” She thought a moment. “When was the last time we saw it?”
“Two days ago,” Mike told her. “When that patient was gardening and cut her finger up.”
“And has anyone been in the surgery room since the last time it was out?”
“No, ma’am,” Jim said again. “The last time I saw it was Dr. Sims consoling that patient with a little before he stitched her finger. I watched him put it back in the cabinet when he was done.”
“So it should have been in the cabinet,” Ozzie said. “Nothing was broken, and nothing else was stolen. Whoever went after it meant to get it.”
She hummed again as the orderlies buckled the patient around the waist with a cloth belt that would keep him from falling out. Then they buckled leather straps over his wrists.
“Is that necessary?” Ozzie asked.
Jim nodded. Mike shook his head and grunted.
“This one’s a fighter,” Jim said. “Those farmers what brought him in, when he saw this was the loony bin—”
“Don’t call it that, Jim,” Ozzie said. “These are sick people, just like at any hospital.”
Jim winced. “Sorry, Miss Ozzie.”
Ozzie smiled. “Thank you, Jim. What about the farmers?”
“He tried making a break for it,” Mike said. “Gave one a black eye and nearly beat the wind out of the other. If me and George hadn’t gotten out there to take him down, he probably would have broke free and run all the way to Lake Providence. We had to shackle him to the floor to get him cleaned up.”
Ozzie looked down at the redheaded fireman. As his head lolled in the ether-nap, it was hard to imagine him hurting anyone. “What did they say his name was?”
“He didn’t,” Mike told her. “All he’s been doing is ranting about monsters eating us all up.”
Jim shivered. “Let’s get him back to his room before he wakes up and talks about that anymore. It’s too much for me.”
The taller black man pushed the wheelchair, and Mike settled into line behind him. Ozzie hurried two steps after them. “I’ll go with you.”
“Don’t you need to clean the surgery?” Mike asked.
Ozzie clenched her teeth and glanced back over her shoulder. It was her duty to toss out the old stitches, and she wanted to make certain the tools were scrubbed. Yet, the mysterious fireman seemed to call to her.
“I’ll come back to it,” Ozzie said. “I want to make sure he settles in all right.” She then added, “And maybe he’ll wake up and tell us a little about himself.”
Mike shrugged and turned back to follow after Jim. Ozzie picked up her skirts and hurried after them.
The
She lifted the patient’s arm and wound bindings underneath, over his shoulder, and around his neck to hold the pad. He groaned again.
Ozzie bit her lower lip. She worked fast and gently.
She tucked his arm back next to him on the surgery bed. He shifted. His eyes opened briefly. They were soft and brown, nothing like his rugged face.
“Take him to the empty room beside the last one,” Dr. Sims ordered. “We’ll keep him as long as we have the room for charity.”
Without another word, he walked out of the room. Ozzie watched him go. The orderlies lifted the man from the table and laid him into one of the wheeled chairs that sat along the wall. The patient’s head rocked back and forth as he came out of the ether-coma.
When she was certain Dr. Sims was out of earshot, Ozzie called to the orderlies. “Jim, Mike, do either of you have a key to chemical cabinet?”
“No, ma’am,” the taller of the two orderlies, Jim, told her. “The doctors keep those keys. And Mrs. Netter for when she has to count them at the end of the month.”
Ozzie nodded. “Hm.”
“This about the missing ether?” Mike asked, his voice deeper than Jim’s.
Ozzie nodded again. “Yes.” She thought a moment. “When was the last time we saw it?”
“Two days ago,” Mike told her. “When that patient was gardening and cut her finger up.”
“And has anyone been in the surgery room since the last time it was out?”
“No, ma’am,” Jim said again. “The last time I saw it was Dr. Sims consoling that patient with a little before he stitched her finger. I watched him put it back in the cabinet when he was done.”
“So it should have been in the cabinet,” Ozzie said. “Nothing was broken, and nothing else was stolen. Whoever went after it meant to get it.”
She hummed again as the orderlies buckled the patient around the waist with a cloth belt that would keep him from falling out. Then they buckled leather straps over his wrists.
“Is that necessary?” Ozzie asked.
Jim nodded. Mike shook his head and grunted.
“This one’s a fighter,” Jim said. “Those farmers what brought him in, when he saw this was the loony bin—”
“Don’t call it that, Jim,” Ozzie said. “These are sick people, just like at any hospital.”
Jim winced. “Sorry, Miss Ozzie.”
Ozzie smiled. “Thank you, Jim. What about the farmers?”
“He tried making a break for it,” Mike said. “Gave one a black eye and nearly beat the wind out of the other. If me and George hadn’t gotten out there to take him down, he probably would have broke free and run all the way to Lake Providence. We had to shackle him to the floor to get him cleaned up.”
Ozzie looked down at the redheaded fireman. As his head lolled in the ether-nap, it was hard to imagine him hurting anyone. “What did they say his name was?”
“He didn’t,” Mike told her. “All he’s been doing is ranting about monsters eating us all up.”
Jim shivered. “Let’s get him back to his room before he wakes up and talks about that anymore. It’s too much for me.”
The taller black man pushed the wheelchair, and Mike settled into line behind him. Ozzie hurried two steps after them. “I’ll go with you.”
“Don’t you need to clean the surgery?” Mike asked.
Ozzie clenched her teeth and glanced back over her shoulder. It was her duty to toss out the old stitches, and she wanted to make certain the tools were scrubbed. Yet, the mysterious fireman seemed to call to her.
“I’ll come back to it,” Ozzie said. “I want to make sure he settles in all right.” She then added, “And maybe he’ll wake up and tell us a little about himself.”
Mike shrugged and turned back to follow after Jim. Ozzie picked up her skirts and hurried after them.
The
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