Corridor B

Every door in that building opened onto something nobody was ready for.

Earlier, at the clinic, both corridors were quiet, patients waited, and the moths went about their business, buzzing and slapping the flickering light bulbs. The wind grazed the windows in circles, carrying one or two dead leaves from the frozen fall. More couldn’t be desired from the sleeping bodies that, drugged, managed to get a good afternoon’s nap. The men in white coats mopped the floors side to side from opposite ends, with their backs facing each other. Their white shoes gave off a squeaking sound that traveled everywhere, leaving an inexplicable satisfaction in one’s ears. Their arms were in tune to one another, and as they squeezed the mops, drops of sweat dripped into the big, yellow Rubbermaid buckets that laid beneath. One wrap around their hands freed the dark water within each braid. Slowly, the bleach and water vanished, leaving no streaks behind. The chemical fusion rose quickly and lingered beneath their nails, where we begin to lose contact with our flesh.

The silence ended with one last stroke. From the depths of Corridor B, sprung the loud sound of a door slamming open and the clicking and clacking from someone’s feet. It was Dr. Linda Child, walking furiously towards the counter, flapping a yellow file in her stubby hand.

“Dr. Child,” the man in the white coat greeted her with his head down, finger on his cap, smiling. She didn’t respond and continued walking straight ahead.

Robbin caught wind of the commotion and immediately thought the worst had happened. What has she done now? she thought, with Alma in mind. I told her she’s not the talking type. It was a simple in and out job. Drop the file, say hello and leave, she continued drawing conclusions in her head. Until her first glimpse of Alma running behind Dr. Child.

Alma had her head down and her bun was coming undone. “Oh boy,” the same man whispered, scratching his head. He looked across the corridor making eye contact with his mate.

Hearing the nurse hustling behind her. “There’s no point in running after me. This doesn’t concern you,” Dr. Child said.

Robbin dropped everything on the table and smiled deliberately.

“Where is he?” Dr. Child asked furiously.

“Who, Dr. Child?” Robbin asked hastily.

Pressing for an answer. “Don’t play coy with me. Where’s Dr. Harris?”

“He was here earlier.”

Sarcastically, “Well I know that. His door is wide open, and he’s nowhere in sight. Anything less obvious you could share?”

“Let’s see. Its half past eleven… he’s probably on his way back from the liquor store,” Robbin responded, looking through the calendar and glancing at the clock behind her.

“So, while he’s out buying more bourbon, I’m stuck here getting more cases? His cases!”

Robbin lowered her gaze, not knowing what else to respond.

“Are you responsible for this, Robbin?” she continued to press.

“My God, no Dr. Child. We’re only following orders.”

“What in God’s name are you talking about? Speak!”

“Earlier today he ordered us to change the caseload, effective immediately.”

“What?!”

“That Mrs. Dwight and her family will now be consulting you,” putting her face down, tomato red.

“You said what?!” Dr. Child asked, stressing the letter h, as though she mixed it with “who”.

“Indeed. He told us to take the file for your review and that next week she’d be transferred to your schedule.”

“I already know her case,” she was losing her temperament. “For Christ’s sake, everyone I’ve met in this little town knows her case. That woman can’t keep her mouth shut. Ipso facto Robbin.”

Ipso who? she thought. Not knowing what to say, nurse Robbin responded. “I don’t quite know what to say.”

“How about saying”Dr. Harris, is it a good idea to make this change right away without consulting Dr. Child?" Maybe. Or… “Dr. Harris, why don’t we get Dr. Child to meet with you first, just to make sure she has no other impediments,”" she provided Robbin with examples while imitating her nasally voice.

Unexpectedly, Alma rushed behind the counter, rubbing shoulders with Robbin.

Alma insisted, “please don’t think I had anything to do with this. If I’ve offended or harmed you in any way, it wasn’t my intention,” apologetically.

They both waited quietly. Not making a single movement.

“He does this all the time: dislikes a patient and immediately sends it my way. I’ve had enough of it! Now he wants to pair me up with the—” she began to whisper, “biggest psychopath of them all?”

Everyone around knew Dr. Child was startled. She was usually a very composed woman, a prude of sorts. Rarely did she speak to anybody but those assigned to her corridor, and even with them she’d only listen, analyze, and share her advice for how to cope, until further consult. Visits always concluded with a typical “We’ll have to look further into this on your next appointment”. Never a personal matter, cold. Yet here she stood, aggravated, exposed to her surroundings, uninhibited by the criticism of her peers.

The phone rang. “Harris & Child Psychiatric Center, nurse Robbin speaking,” she quickly responded. “How may I direct your call?” she asked. “He’s not in at the moment, who am I speaking with?”

Losing her temper, Dr. Child mumbled, “Of course not, he’s on a liquor run!”

On the phone. “Oh, how are you Sheriff Bryant? Almost didn’t recognize your voice,” she said. Her voice sweetened; twirling with the phone line between her fingers. She continued, now with her back towards Alma and Dr. Child. “Sher-iff,” she smiled, “Can’t really talk right now, honey, Dr You-know-who is climbing my tree. Think you can call back later?” she asked.

Confused, Dr. Child asked Alma, “What’s she going on about? He’s not here, can’t she take a message?”

Alma moved her brown eyes side to side, confused.

“Why did you sound so serious? You know I always answer the phone… you thought it was nurse Bubba Mae?” Robbin said letting out a giggle. “You almost had me fooled, thought you really needed to speak to Dr. Harris…” she continued, pulling filing bins to play out the act. “Oh, you did need to speak to him… Well, like I said, he’s not here right now. Is everything okay?” she asked opening a file with the name Rita Parker—not important. “Oh, okay. I’ll let him know to call as soon as he returns.”

Robbin asked one final question, “Hey, sheriff… are you still in the mood to go over that case with me later tonight?” She hung up, and with it, too, did her smile.

“Was that another one of his patients? Is this another one of those that he’s trying to get rid of and send to me?” Dr. Child asked, steaming out of her ears.

“That was Sheriff Bryant,” Robbin answered, glancing at Alma.

Dr. Child was curious. “What did he need?”

“I don’t really know Dr. Child. He didn’t say.”

Dr. Child leaned in closer to the counter, so much that she had to tiptoe as her breast laid over the edge. “Can I ask you something?”

“Well, of course.”

Dr. Child smiled and angled her chin. “Is there anything you actually know? Honestly. That you actually do know?” she said leaving Robbin puzzled. Alma raised her eyebrows and lowered her gaze as Dr. Child walked back to corridor B.

As the two began to whisper. “Robbin…”

“Yes?” she responded nervous caught by the surprise of Dr. Child, yet again.

“Do let me know when Harris gets back.”

“Of course!” she answered swiftly.

“Oh, and…”

“Yes, Dr. Child?” they both said in unison.

“Do your job and don’t send the new girl down to my office. She’s not my service, you are.”

Robbin began mocking her with faces, but Dr. Child turned around, catching her in the act. “Do I make myself clear, Nurse Robbin?”

All heads turned away. Except for Robbin, who buried her head in the soil, searching for worms, embarrassed.

She bowed. “Of course!”

Alma looked at Robbin, distracted, not knowing what was more interesting: seeing Dr. Child’s true colors or seeing Robbin exposed.

Already past the revolving doors, past the yellow bucket, the mop and its beholder, Stubby Linda said, “I’ll be waiting.”

Alma’s eyes were frozen. “What are you staring at? Back to work new girl. Sign in those patients and reorganize those bins from A through Z, by address and prescription,” Robbin ordered.

“Which bins?” Alma asked confused.

“Figure it out!” her injured superior responded.

Robbin began to fix her already straight hair, sat on a chair and called another patient. “Mister and misses Morris.”

Walking over to Alma, a white coat said, “She’ll get over it. These two have been going at it for years. It’s all a crazy act.”

In her office, Dr. Child wondered why Bryant called. She thought about the Barrow case and whether it was related. She knew Harris and Bryant were childhood friends, but, in her mind, he was not too keen on calling the clinic. Last time she heard of him was five months ago, on the nightly news, sharing some report on arrests made that year.

She couldn’t let it go. What has he got up his sleeve? What is he trying to dig up from that drunkard? she thought aloud.

Her desk was covered in files, a picture of an aging man, a pair of round frames and a silver thimble the size of an acorn. From her right coat pocket, she pulled a set of keys and placed them on the space created when thighs join hands. She laid her elbows over the desk and pressed her torso firmly against the darkened edge above the drawer, rubbing her forehead meticulously with the sides of her knuckles.

The skin below her eyes was as thin as a chicken’s, staying in place after she rubbed it. “God,” she sighed. Hesitating, she opened a drawer with a passkey, moved a few documents and, beneath it, laid a single red folder labeled Jade Smith.

Holding it up to the light, she began to open it, as though she regretted it. The phone rang! “Dr. Child,” Robbin was on the other line.

“Yes,” she responded startled.

“Dr. Harris just walked in.”

“Please have him come to my office,” she responded while locking the file in the drawer.

“Will do! Will that be all, Dr. Child?”

“Just send him to my office.”

Robbin began to say, “Dr. Child, me and Alma are heading to…” but Dr. Child had hung up.

Grabbing away at her short, messy brown hair. I can’t let this get back to me again, Dr. Child spoke to herself, still staring at the passkey.

She had developed an unfamiliar relationship with Gertrude prior to her death. They met in Tucson while at a gem festival three years back.

And of all the tents, both Gertrude and Dr. Child, stopped to look at the map and scratch their head in front of this one, by the restrooms.

“You seem just as lost as me,” Dr. Child said to this strange woman looking down on her map.

“Don’t know if I’m lost or simply foolish,” the stranger responded.

“From the looks of it, you’re lost,” Dr. Child said, letting out a laugh. “Where are you headed?” she asked.

“Well, that’s a good question.”

“So far I figured this is Campbell avenue, which means that we’re very close to Euclid, where I’m heading,” Dr. Child added, moving closer to see the strange woman’s angle of the map.

“Would you look at that? I’m headed the same direction, to the…”

“JADE EXTRAVAGANZA!” they yelled at once.

“Small world,” Dr. Child couldn’t help smiling.

“You betcha,” the stranger responded.

“Hey! That’s my alma mater,” Dr. Child said, pointing at the woman’s dark blue shirt.

“My brother went there,” she responded quickly.

“What year?” The question had brought a swift sense of quiet in the middle of thousands. “My apologies, I seem to be asking too many questions,” Dr. Child continued, glancing at the stranger’s left hand. “Misses?”

She had a ring on her finger. “Barrow, Gertrude Barrow. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Doc… sorry it’s a habit. Miss Child, Linda Child. And the pleasure is all mine.” They shook hands awkwardly. “Again, misses…” she stopped to think.

“Mrs. Barrow,” she reminded her.

“Mrs. Barrow, that’s right! Look at me already forgetting your name. How embarrassing.”

Gertrude said jokingly, “Thought you went to Yale,” they both giggled. “No worries. Try being a teacher on the first day of classes…”

“Oh, you win!”

“And call me Gertrude. Only my students call me Mrs. Barrow, although some call me Ms. B.”

“I almost became a teacher, a professor I should say. I was an English major.”

“So, you were a teacher too?” Gertrude asked with glimmer in her eyes. She felt like smiling, like she found her missing dog. “It’s difficult to come by other teachers around here. At least ones as young as us,” she continued.

Linda laughed. “I seem to have mislead you,” she said. “I was studying English but seeing what being a teacher entailed I figured I might as well work with adults,” she said.

“You should meet my husband, makes my daughter look like a grown woman,” Gertrude responded, joining the laughter.

“Husbands… I see so many of them, so foolish,” Linda said, rolling her eyes.

“I take it you’re a nurse?” Gertrude asked.

“Not quite. Turns out I became a doctor. A psychiatrist, to be exact. But don’t go calling me doctor, Linda will do.”

“Oh, look at you, isn’t that just swell. Didn’t think there were many female psychiatrists out there,” she said delighted.

“So, you’re from New York?” Gertrude asked excited.

“It’s funny,” Linda responded. “The moment I mention that I’m from New York people in Colorado always ask me that same question. Is it a Mid-West thing?”

“Wait, you said Colorado?” Gertrude interrupted without letting Linda finish.

“Yes, I moved there last year.”

“Whereabouts?”

“Place called Plainview, near Lazy Peaks National Park. You’ve heard of it?”

“Have I heard of it? Am from the other side of Plainview, from The Pines. You’re talking to a Little Pines graduate and now teacher there,” she said proudly. Linda nodded and smiled. “Born and raised in the pines.”

Oddly enough, this may have been the first time Linda looked excited to meet someone proud to be from The Pines, and so they continued chatting and laughing with excitement. Ecstatic, grabbing at each other’s arms in joy.

“Well, this is just fascinating. All this time I’ve been living in that boring little town,” she paused and tapped Gertrude on her shoulder, “and I never bumped into you? You’re like a breath of fresh air.”

“By God, I’m just as shocked as you are and, between you and me, the town has gotten better.”

“I’m willing to bet that’s why you’re here today, huh.”

They laughed insatiably.

“What about mass?”

“What about it?” Linda responded swiftly.

“Never seen you in mass.”

“Oh, I’m not a believer,” she answered with a dull face letting out a clicking sound from the corner of her lips.

Gertrude asked surprised, “You’re not catholic?”

“No, not at all.”

“Please tell me you’re not an Adventist…”

“Neither. I don’t follow religions. What some may call atheist… although at times I feel agnostic.”

Gertrude’s face changed colors. The pupils of her blue eyes widened in shock.

“I can almost guess what you’re thinking right now, you think I’m a disgrace.”

Gertrude smiled.

“Not at all, only God can judge.”

“Good to know.”

“Shall we head to the jade show?” Gertrude asked.

“Let’s!”

Making their way through the crowds, sharing details about their life, Linda and Gertrude began what was to become a deep yet brief relationship.