I glanced down at my navy blue scrubs and Nikes. “Gertie, these are my work clothes… I’m not even dressed up for Halloween.”
Gertie’s friend, who was walking beside her with a walker of her own, patted her on the back. “If she wants to dress up like a slutty nurse, let her. She’s young. These kids are so reckless these days.”
They kept walking off in a tizzy, shaking their heads at how deplorable I was dressed.
“I’m literally in my normal work scrubs!” I yelled after them, only then realizing that they couldn’t even hear me anymore.
I pressed my fingers against the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes, repeating the phrase “I love this job, I love this job,” over and over again in my mind.
This was going to be a long shift. I had actually been looking forward to a quiet night at home in my apartment. I was going to make some popcorn and talk myself into buying Halloween candy for kids, but then eat it all myself since no one trick-or-treats in an apartment complex. It would have been perfect.
Instead, I’d picked the short straw at the beginning of October and had landed Halloween duty. But, I’d come prepared this time. I had two years of Paradise Springs under my belt, which is why I had the following items inside the pockets of my scrubs:
— Band-aids
— a roll of butterscotch Lifesavers
— a pair of small latex gloves
— two condoms
— a small bottle of disinfectant
One couldn’t be too prepared during the Halloween shift at Paradise Springs. I was running through the possible outcomes of the night in my head when I knocked on Anne’s door. Anne was always my favorite stop during my rounds. I’d camp out in her room during my shifts, explaining that she needed some extra TLC. In reality, we would sit on her bed flipping through rag magazines and gossiping together.
When I knocked and entered her room that day, she was sitting at her small vanity getting ready for the party. I breathed a sigh of relief as I pushed through the door and closed it behind me. Her vanity was small and old, a relic from her house. It didn’t seem to belong in the sterile room when she’d first moved in, but we’d decorated her room for months, making it feel homey and comfortable. Now there were a series of framed photos that hung on the wall beside her vanity: her and her late husband, her and her grandchildren, and even one of her and me together.
“Hot mama alert!” I said as her gaze met mine in the mirror.
“I thought you said you were going to dress up,” she frowned.
I reached to grab the pair of ears out of the back pocket of my scrubs. The moment I positioned them on top of my short pixie cut, Anne smiled.
“There, much better. Those mouse ears really suit you,” she said, adding a bit of blush to her cheeks. If I had any say in how I aged, I hoped I would look like Anne. She was beautiful with emerald green eyes (just like her grandson), white hair that she always spun into artfully done up-dos, and just enough wrinkles to give her a wise appearance.
“Are you saying I’m mousy?” I joked, narrowing my eyes on her as I moved to take a seat on the end of her quilted bed.
She laughed. “No. You’re cute, like a little mouse.”
“Whatever you say,” I smiled. “What are you supposed to be anyway?”
I glanced down her royal blue dress that wrapped around her in tight folds. It was beautiful, but I couldn’t place it as any costume I’d seen before. A gold statement necklace wrapped around her neck and hung down her chest.
“I’m not dressed up as anything. I wasn’t sure what we were supposed to do since George will be giving us characters to play in the murder mystery. I thought it’d be too confusing if I was in costume as well.”
I nodded. “That’s a good point. Too bad Sandy is already dressed up as Catwoman.”
Anne’s mouth dropped open. “Is she really?”
“Yes, and Gertie called me a whore in the hallway.”
Anne started laughing then, and the skin around her eyes crinkled as her grin overtook her features. When she finally took a deep breath, I asked her a question.
“Hey Anne, is it really a good idea to do a murder mystery in a nursing home?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
I pressed my lips together as I tried to work out the precise way I should word the next sentence.
“It’s just that… some of you are older… not you, Anne, but you know.” I was flailing around like a fish on a hook.
She laughed and clapped her hands together. “You mean because one of us could actually die!?”
Well at least she thought I was a hoot. You see what I just did? “A hoot.” When you work with old people for two years, you start to adopt their language. I would have never said “hoot” before becoming best friends with Anne. Yes, I am friends with an eighty-two-year-old. But, let me tell you, she can kick my ass. They did a self-defense class one time at Paradise Springs right after I was hired. Apparently, there’d been a break-in and they wanted to make sure everyone knew some basic skills on how to defend themselves. (Seriously, who breaks into a retirement home? Apparently, the criminals didn’t take anything except for some chocolate pudding from the kitchen. And I’ll admit, if I no longer worked at Paradise Springs, I’d break in for that chocolate pudding, too.)
Anyway, yeah, Anne was my partner for the self-defense class. She was putting me in a choke-hold, and when I thought I was going to pass-out, I tried tapping out like the instructor had shown us. Anne wasn’t listening during that part, so she thought I was just encouraging her to strangle me harder. No, yeah, please keep going. I want to die at the hands of an eighty-two-year-old today.
And that’s the story of how Anne almost killed me.
After that, we’d become inseparable.
“Well, I for one, think it’d be hilarious if someone keeled over today. It would make the murder mystery feel real.”
I burst out in laughter, holding my hand over my mouth.
“Anne, if you’re killed,” I began in a mock serious tone, “I swear I will avenge your death and find your murderer.”
She laughed, and then turned around on her chair to face me.
“You’ll have Sawyer to help you solve the mystery. He’s supposed to be here any minute.”
My heart rate picked up at the mention of her grandson, but I tried to sound casual as I asked my next question.
“Oh, is Sawyer going to be here tonight?” I glanced down at my hands spinning circles on her hand-made quilt. I didn’t think I was fooling anyone, least of all, Anne. Even still, something kept me from admitting my serious crush on him.
“Yes. He promised me he’d stop by before he went to another Halloween party. I thought I had already mentioned this to you?”
She had, but I didn’t want to appear too obsessed with him. “Do you think he’s bringing a date?”
The edge of Anne’s mouth tipped up. “You know, I’m not sure. He broke up with that Lisa girl. Did I tell you that?”
My eyes practically bulged out of my head. “What?! No, you didn’t tell me that!”
She smiled. “Surprise.”
The first time I saw Sawyer, I’d only been working at Paradise Springs for two weeks and I had urine in my hair. Not my urine. No. I was going through rounds during my shift and making sure that everyone was doing okay. I’d just left Mr. Tennon’s room, where he’d thrown a fit about getting a sponge bath. He was one of the high maintenance residents, and I was still learning how to handle him (I’d learn six months later that if you enticed him with the promise of an episode of Baywatch, the man would do anything you wanted).
Anyway, I was helping Mr. Tennon take off his clothes and as I dipped down to pull his pants over his ankles— I felt it. Urine seeping into my hair and running down the side of my face. I tried my best to stay calm, it’s not like he meant to pee on me. I knew incontinence was something that came with the territory, but it was a low blow to my self-esteem either way.
Becoming a nurse seemed so much more heroic and adventurous when I was studying in school. I thought I’d be caring for gunshot victims and yelling things like “10 ccs stat!” and “We’re going to have to intubate!”