Money, Power, Glory (Terry Silver Fanfic)

Chapter 4

Manhattan, 1965

I just turned eighteen this month and no longer need to live in an orphanage since I'm an adult.

I wandered through the streets of Manhattan aimlessly not knowing what to do next. As I kept walking, my eyes caught a neon sign across the street written "Sunliner Diner." I crossed the street to get a closer look at the diner.

I stood outside the diner watching happy couples laughing as they made jokes with each other and others sharing a milkshake that was being delivered by waitresses wearing baby blue aprons and a headdress. 

I observed for a little while until someone exited the diner and approached me. It was a middle-aged man with a mustache, "Hey lady if you're looking for a job I recommend you ask instead of standing outside and scaring the customers," he spoke in a heavy Southern accent.

When I didn't reply to him, he raised me a brow snapping his fingers in my face, "Hey you deaf or something?"

I shook my head, "I am looking for a job," I mumbled. He placed his index and middle fingers behind his ear, "I need you to speak up, Little Lady."

"I said, I need a job!" I yelled this time. He nodded looking me up and down.

"How old are ya, Little Lady?"

"Eighteen."

He let out a sigh, "What's your name?"

"Lana. Lana Isley," I replied. He nodded again before stretching his hand to shake mine, "I'm Carl. I run the place," he informed me. I nodded shaking his hand.

"Do you need a job, Little Lady? Maybe you should just stay home and help out your folks?"

I folded my lips into a thin line, "My folks are dead." Silence. Carl scratched the back of his head looking down out of embarrassment. He rubbed his chin, "Come back tomorrow at noon for trainin'," was all he said before returning to the diner. I turned around from the windows of the restaurant smiling to myself. Baby steps, I reminded myself.

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Manhattan, 1967

As I was wiping down vacant tables, a middle-aged woman was holding a stack of papers at the entrance of the diner. I was told by Carl that sometimes some people would come into the restaurant to advertise their products and what you should do is always reject them.

I put the wet rag on the vacant table before walking up to the woman, "May I help you?" I asked her nicely. She smiled widely at me and handed me a paper from the stack, "We are looking for young women like you to serve as nurses for our soldiers in Vietnam." I looked down at the paper she just handed to me. It had a picture of a group of women dressed in white nurse attire holding first aid kits. I turned it over to the back to see a picture of a nurse injecting medication into a soldier with the information below the picture.

I looked up to her again and she smiled at me, "So, what do you say young lady?"

Being a nurse on a battlefield sounded very interesting to me. The thought of being needed and depended on made me feel a little needed as if I had my place in life. "What if you don't have any nursing experience?" I asked the woman a little invested now.

She shrugged, "Well, you could always be a nursing assistant or have some real-life training as you go."

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Vietnam, 1968

As Darcy was bandaging up one of the soldiers, I kept myself busy by organizing the medicine cabinet.

Shortly after the soldier left, Darcy turned to me from her seat across the tent. I felt her eyes staring into my soul from behind. I turned around, "What the fuck are you staring at, Darcy?"