Luck of the Draw

Chapter 13 - Flo Nightingale

"What happened to you?" She came up beside the bed and looked at all the paraphernalia decorating his table and tray.

"You have to get me out of here." His plea sounded more than desperate.

"What happened, Mickey?"

"I fell in the apartment and broke my cast. I got stuck under the coffee table and I couldn't get up."

"How did you get here?" She picked up his hand with the new cast and frowned at the weight and amount of plaster used for a small break.

"I managed to get my cell phone." He pointed to the Band-Aid on his head, "It fell off the table. I called 911, and you wouldn't believe what I had to go through to get help."

"Why? They just ask your name and address and send someone then they talk about your problem."

He thought about that and realized that the medics did arrive quite soon after he hung up. Maybe he was too hasty in judging the quality of the service.

"It seemed difficult at the time. Then they had to break in and they knocked Naughty over and he stuck in one of the guy's legs."

"Who's naughty?"

"My prickly pear cactus. The one by the door."

"Oh him." Carly patted Mickey's shoulder. "Don't worry, I picked him up and gave him a shot of your cactus juice."

"You did? That was really thoughtful, Carly."

"How about driving all the way out here? I was at work, Mickey—on a Sunday."

"So how did you come to be at my apartment?"

"I live there too you know. I went home for lunch."

"Oh, of course... I'm really pleased to see you." He tried to sit up. "You have to get me out of here."

"Why?"

"The nurse I told you about, the witch from hell, she's here. She was working on me."

"You mean the one from the clinic?"

"Yes! Her!"

Carly pressed the buzzer and Mickey stared in alarm as they heard the thud of sensible shoes pounding down the corridor.

"Now what, Mr. Schaf- oh... was it you that rang, Miss?"

"Yes it was. Mr. Schafer is concerned that you have some kind of antagonism toward him and he would like to be released."

The nurse grew a frightening countenance and wandered around the opposite side of the bed.

"Is that true, Mr. Schafer? Are you now spreading your racist lies among the public? You want to go home?"

"Racist? What do you- you're the same as me!"

She pulled an exaggerated clown smile. "Oooh, I don't think so. Not by a long shot."

"I do wish to leave. I want to get as far away from this nut house as possible."

"You realize the expense you have put the medical community to recently with your minor complaints? And now this orange alert?" The nurse continued, leering down at him menacingly. "That poor medic is still in fear for his life. He has a wife and children you know."

"I don't think that it's your place to chastise," Carly answered for him. "If there has been suspected abuse then you should report it to your superiors, not take issue with the patient, or abuse him in return."

"I never abused—"

"You scolded me each time for coming to the clinic." Mickey chimed in. Bolder with Carly's intervention. "And now, when I have another legitimate need, you accuse me of being some kind of- of Frankenstein."

The nurse pinched her lips and snorted through her nose. A horse annoyed with its handling. She picked up his chart and dashed off a few terse comments then roughly unhooked his antibiotic feed and stood back, arms folded belligerently.

"You are free to leave, Mr. Schafer."

"Thank you." Mickey crawled out of the bed and too late, to his dismay, realized he was in a backless hospital gown, displaying his bare backside to both women. The nurse sneered with disgust. Carly grinned.

!!!!!

"That was humiliating." Mickey moaned, as Carly helped him get set up on his sofa in front of the TV. She brought water, some snacks and his phone to the side table. His offending cane was propped safely between the cushions but not too close to present another dangerous accident.

"I thought it was instructive." She smiled at his red face.

"How?"

"I could plainly see where you were getting unfair treatment from that nurse."

"Oh... I thought- never mind."

"Although I did notice," she added. "You do have nice legs... in spite of the cast and the bruises."

"Ohhh-h-h, Go-d-d..." He covered his flaming face with the shiny new casts on both hands.

"Oh c'mon, Mickey, I'm teasing you." She looked at her watch and made a grunting sound. "I have to get to the store. If I keep closing up to look after you I'll be out of business in no time."

"I'm really sorry. You've been a brick and I really appreciate it. I just couldn't have managed..."

"Yeah, yeah. I suppose this is another lead in to a plea for dinner."

"I wasn't- I didn't—"

"Sure you did. No problem. But not tonight. I'll pick up some finger food for us on the way home tomorrow. Meanwhile, I'll heat up some soup for you tonight." She gave him a huge grin when the soup was ready, said good night and sashayed out the door.

Finger food!

He contemplated his hands forlornly. Cupping the bowl between the casts, he raised the soup to his lips and burned his mouth, spilled the soup and set fire to his lap. He looked with despair at Agnes who looked back. No one would believe a cactus could roll its eyes, he thought.