corridor was long and dim. While each of the patients’ rooms on either side had large, barred windows to let in plenty of light while keeping them safely inside, only a little of that light slipped under the locked doors into the center. Things were noisier in the violent ward, where many of the rooms had iron rings built into the floor for chains and shackles. Footsteps pounded from early rising patients pacing in their rooms. Someone murmured loudly to himself. Unintelligible words leaked into the hallway.
Ozzie wanted to tremble, but she wouldn’t let herself. She was a nurse.
Suddenly one of the doors banged beside her. She let out a soft scream and dove to the opposite side of the hall.
Mike stepped in front of her with his arm out. “Take it easy in there, Rodney!”
Ozzie peeked up from behind her fingers. She hadn’t realized she’d thrown her hands over her face. She put her arms to her sides and tried to stand tall.
The man behind the door was Rodney Flipp. He had been brought into the state hospital by the Rail Agency after being caught trying to steal mail from a train out west. The courts were still trying to discern whether he was part of a larger gang, so they had delivered him along with an order he be held quietly. Flipp had concocted a whole, lying backstory and fought tooth and nail with any of the doctors who tried to question him. It had taken days of stern talking and a few doses of sedatives to finally calm him down.
Ozzie had wondered why they hadn’t put him in a jail cell. When she had a good look at him, she understood. The man had no hair: not on his head, not on his brow, nowhere. He spent most of his days now sitting on his bed in a tight ball, mumbling to himself and sniffing. Clearly, something had agitated his mind.
Flipp’s face was pressed against the little, barred window that stood at eye-level in the door. He had been quiet enough that the orderlies had left it open.
Now Flipp’s voice was strained, almost wheezing. “I can smell it on him!”
Ozzie’s skin crawled.
“Stop that!” Jim called. He didn’t wait for a reply and hurried down the hall toward the new patient’s empty room.
Mike remained rigidly in his place in front of Ozzie. She cleared her throat and looked over his shoulder. “What can we do for you, Rodney?”
His wide eyes had been following the new patient, and they flicked back toward her. “My name’s not Rodney.”
“Rodney, please,” Ozzie said in a firm voice. “We’ve been over that. You don’t remember things correctly.”
Flipp furiously banged his head against the thick wooden door. It made dull thuds. “Oh, I remember! I remember all too much! I just want to be rid of it, and then you bring…that…on him! You bring him in here with that stink all over him!”
“What stink?” Ozzie asked calmly. “He should smell just fine. The orderlies gave him a bath not an hour ago.”
“You can’t wash it off,” Flipp said. He held a thin-fingered hand up next to his face. “I can smell it on my own skin…” He gagged and pulled his hand away.
“What smell?” Ozzie repeated.
“The smell of death!” Flipp shouted. “The foulest devils! Hell itself!”
Other patients in the hall began shouting. The ones already awake started bellowing, waking up the rest. Howls and wails rang down the hallway.
“I’ll calm him down,” Mike announced. He cracked his knuckles and then pulled a master key off his belt.
Flipp retreated from the doorway. Mike gruffly opened the door and went inside.
Ozzie watched after him a moment. Mike’s curt voice barked several times. Flipp replied in a squeal to the first two, but then he went quiet.
Ozzie turned away and rushed down the hall. Jim was already inside the new patient’s room. She doubted she could help Flipp, and she did not want to see Mike restrain him. Some things had to be done.
She tried not to think about it and turned the corner into the new patient’s room. Jim had
Ozzie wanted to tremble, but she wouldn’t let herself. She was a nurse.
Suddenly one of the doors banged beside her. She let out a soft scream and dove to the opposite side of the hall.
Mike stepped in front of her with his arm out. “Take it easy in there, Rodney!”
Ozzie peeked up from behind her fingers. She hadn’t realized she’d thrown her hands over her face. She put her arms to her sides and tried to stand tall.
The man behind the door was Rodney Flipp. He had been brought into the state hospital by the Rail Agency after being caught trying to steal mail from a train out west. The courts were still trying to discern whether he was part of a larger gang, so they had delivered him along with an order he be held quietly. Flipp had concocted a whole, lying backstory and fought tooth and nail with any of the doctors who tried to question him. It had taken days of stern talking and a few doses of sedatives to finally calm him down.
Ozzie had wondered why they hadn’t put him in a jail cell. When she had a good look at him, she understood. The man had no hair: not on his head, not on his brow, nowhere. He spent most of his days now sitting on his bed in a tight ball, mumbling to himself and sniffing. Clearly, something had agitated his mind.
Flipp’s face was pressed against the little, barred window that stood at eye-level in the door. He had been quiet enough that the orderlies had left it open.
Now Flipp’s voice was strained, almost wheezing. “I can smell it on him!”
Ozzie’s skin crawled.
“Stop that!” Jim called. He didn’t wait for a reply and hurried down the hall toward the new patient’s empty room.
Mike remained rigidly in his place in front of Ozzie. She cleared her throat and looked over his shoulder. “What can we do for you, Rodney?”
His wide eyes had been following the new patient, and they flicked back toward her. “My name’s not Rodney.”
“Rodney, please,” Ozzie said in a firm voice. “We’ve been over that. You don’t remember things correctly.”
Flipp furiously banged his head against the thick wooden door. It made dull thuds. “Oh, I remember! I remember all too much! I just want to be rid of it, and then you bring…that…on him! You bring him in here with that stink all over him!”
“What stink?” Ozzie asked calmly. “He should smell just fine. The orderlies gave him a bath not an hour ago.”
“You can’t wash it off,” Flipp said. He held a thin-fingered hand up next to his face. “I can smell it on my own skin…” He gagged and pulled his hand away.
“What smell?” Ozzie repeated.
“The smell of death!” Flipp shouted. “The foulest devils! Hell itself!”
Other patients in the hall began shouting. The ones already awake started bellowing, waking up the rest. Howls and wails rang down the hallway.
“I’ll calm him down,” Mike announced. He cracked his knuckles and then pulled a master key off his belt.
Flipp retreated from the doorway. Mike gruffly opened the door and went inside.
Ozzie watched after him a moment. Mike’s curt voice barked several times. Flipp replied in a squeal to the first two, but then he went quiet.
Ozzie turned away and rushed down the hall. Jim was already inside the new patient’s room. She doubted she could help Flipp, and she did not want to see Mike restrain him. Some things had to be done.
She tried not to think about it and turned the corner into the new patient’s room. Jim had
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