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Betsy walked off the elevator, humming to herself and moving briskly toward Marla’s room. She didn’t even take the time to change out of the scrubs she wore every day at the bakery. Before coming to work at the bakery Betsy had put in thirty years at a nursing home and couldn’t get out of the habit of wearing scrubs. In her opinion they didn’t make anything more comfortable to wear or more durable. Nowadays they came in all sorts of happy patterns and cheery colors and Betsy was pretty sure she had them all in her closet.
Suddenly Betsy realized that she was completely alone. At first she thought she had gone the wrong way, backtracking to look at the signs again. No, she had been headed in the right direction. Boy, the hospital must have made some major staffing cuts for it to be this empty. She slowed down her pace and peered into the open doorway of some of the patient rooms to see if she saw any staff. Nothing. When she looked up she noticed that several of the nursing call lights were lit outside the rooms. That couldn’t be normal. You can’t keep all these sick people waiting for care. Once in a while when people heard her passing their open doors they yelled for her, mistaking her for a nurse. As she was rounding the last corner to Marla’s room she froze in her tracks. The nursing station across from Marla’s room was empty as phones rang and call bells beeped insistently. It was like a ghost town. The chair sitting outside of Marla’s room was empty where her police protection was supposed to be. The hair on the back of her neck rose, making her shiver. She slowly headed for Marla’s room, crouching below the nursing station so she couldn’t be seen passing by. Luckily, Marla’s door was cracked open just enough for her to squeeze through. She silently closed the door behind her, relieved when she saw Marla lying there with her eyes closed, resting comfortably.
“Marla,” Betsy whispered while she gently shook her shoulder, jumping slightly when her eyes popped open quickly.
“Betsy. What a surprise. I didn’t know you were here. What’s going on at the nursing station, listen to all that noise. It’s been like that for the last twenty minutes. I guess it’s true, you can’t get any rest in a hospital,” Marla joked. When Betsy didn’t laugh she realized something was wrong.
“What?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute. Can you walk or do you need a wheelchair?”
“I’m not supposed to get out of bed. Why? What’s going on Betsy?”
“I need to get you out of this room. I’ll be right back. I just need to find a wheelchair.”
“There’s one under the window here in my room. Tell me now.”
“Marla, I could be making a mountain out of a mole hill but there isn’t anyone out at the nurse’s station and your guard isn’t in his chair. No one’s taking care of the patients so I need to stash you somewhere safe and then I’ll call Pete.” Betsy gave the narrative while she grabbed the wheelchair and put it next to Marla’s bed. “I’ll grab your I.V. bag and help you into the chair. Let’s go.”
Without argument she did everything as directed.
Quietly Betsy opened the door, listened for a few seconds, and then cautiously peered out. Nothing had changed, all the phones were still ringing and call bells were still going off. Betsy decided to head back toward the elevators, knowing getting off the floor would be the best for Marla’s safety.
“Okay, here’s the plan. I’m going to wheel you as fast and quietly as I can to the elevators. Don’t say a word or make a sound until the doors on the elevator have closed and it starts to move. If it takes too long for the elevator to come or I hear a noise I’m going to park you in the stairwell. If that happens you need to lock the door as soon as I can get it closed.”
“Got it! Let’s go.” Betsy could see Marla trembling, the poor little thing. Impressed that she did what she had to regardless of her terror.
Betsy eased the wheelchair quietly over the thresh hold of the door, then took off running at top speed. Thank God for tennis shoes.
They rounded the corner on one wheel, almost tipping over if not for Marla pushing against the wall to put the airborne wheels back on the ground. Betsy almost had trouble stopping the wheelchair at the elevators with all the momentum she’d built up. Nervously she pushed the elevator call button several times. She sneaked back to peer around the corner, making sure no one was following them. Muffling a gasp when she saw a man with a gun standing in the middle of the nursing station, yelling commands to someone in the room behind the station. She decided quickly that she needed to get Marla in the stairwell if the elevator didn’t come by the time she reached her again.
Just as she returned to Marla the elevator doors slid open. Betsy grabbed the handles of the wheelchair, pushed Marla in and pressed the down button. Seconds before the door closed completely someone wedged their chubby fingers through the tiny opening.