The local hospital is generally a quiet place. The peculiar smell of hand sanitizer and IV fluids combined with the beige walls and tile floors were simple and plain in the eyes of others.
But for Lay, there was something about the plainness that made the hospital beautiful. The patients he saw everyday were all clothed in the same hospital gowns, though each one had their own personality, their own problems and sicknesses that brought them here in the first place.
And like the tiles on the floor, there was something about each patient that made them unique; they all hope for a better life.
That was all that Lay wanted to give his patients. Being a nurse was no easy job, he knew. It was his job to help the patients, deliver them their daily medicines that were claimed to "heal" their sickness.
Lay knew there was more to healing than just medicine. He was no wizard that could magically heal people, but if he could give the one thing they needed, the one thing they were clinging onto, then he believed he could truly heal them.
The other hospital workers thought Lay was out of his mind. He was a young man, not even working for the money. He just wanted to genuinely help others, and that's why he stood out amongst the other nurses.
Lay came in bright and early that Monday morning. He shrugged on his white coat, greeted his coworkers and began to check on his patients: delivering their medications and helping them with treatment.
Lay carried a tray of medicine and a glass of water to the room of an elderly female patient. He quietly slid the door open and saw there was another woman at her side.
"I'm sorry," he excused himself. "Is now a good time?"
The woman nodded. "Please, come in."
Lay entered the room and carefully set down the metal tray on the nightstand. His heart skipped a beat when the patient reached out to touch his arm.
"You're here," she whispered, and Lay gave a small smile.
The woman eyed the male nurse, watching him as he talked calmly with her mother. He talked as though he knew her his whole life, nodding as she spoke weakly and acknowledged her for who she really was—not just a sick woman.
Lay waited patiently as the sick woman quietly took her medicine. He helped her sit up in her bed and with the remote control for the TV. Her frail hands shook uncontrollably as she switched from one channel to the next.
The other woman followed Lay out of the room once the patient found a channel of her liking. Lay slid the door back in place and the woman began to speak.
"Thank you so much," she offered up her gratitude.
Lay smiled. "Why are you thanking me?"
"For taking care of my mother," the young woman replied. "It's relieving to see someone who treats her... as a human, not a patient who's dying."
"She's not dying," Lay remarked truthfully. "She's healing, in her own time. Your mother will be alright,"
The woman's eyes began to water. Before Lay could say anything else, the woman outstretch her arms and gave him a tight hug. He didn't know what to do; it was against the code of conduct for a nurse to hug any patients or visitors. Lay gently patted the woman's back and politely pulled away.
"I'm sorry," the woman wiped her face. "I'm just really grateful, thank you again."
Lay nodded. "It's my pleasure," he stated. "She will be alright, I promise."
Many of Lay's days at the hospital went like this. Everyday was a new adventure; he would tend to his patients and if there were any visitors, they would thank him over and over again. Lay was used to it, and he didn't mind.
After his morning shift, Lay made his way to the coffee shop across the street, hoping to meet up with his friend. He hadn't talked to his friend in so long, he had been very busy at the hospital and his friend was occupied with a very serious lawsuit.
The sweet aroma of ground coffee beans was lingering in the air as Lay entered the small shop. The shop was empty other than a man working at the counter.
Lay pulled out his phone and texted his friend he was already there. Before he went to take his order, he got a notification that his message didn't send. He dialed his friend's number, only to send him to his voicemail.
"What can I do for you today?" The young man at the counter gave a tired smile. His brown eyes looked bloodshot, as if he'd been up the whole night crying or working a late shift.
"I'll have a medium vanilla latte," Lay said politely.
"Is that all?" The man asked, not looking up from the cash register screen.
"Yes, thank you,"
Lay watched as the man turned around and made his order. He worked swiftly, working with precision, even though he seemed very sleep deprived. The man set the cup on the counter and punched numbers into the register.
"That will be..." the man's jaded eyes grew wide as if he just saw a ghost.
Lay frowned. "Is something wrong?"
The man nodded, taking off his apron and stuffing it under the counter. He rushed over to the front of the shop and switched the "Open" sign around.
"What's going on?" Lay questioned, the peaceful feeling of the shop was replaced by an eerie one.
"It's not safe here, sir." The man wore a worried expression on his face. "You should leave, there's a door at the back."
Lay nodded, confused. "How much was the coffee again?"
"It's on me," the man lead Lay to the back of the shop. "Just take it."
"Really?" Lay felt bad for not paying, he figured the worker might really need the money, or at least appreciate a tip. "Thanks."
"No problem," the man hurried to the back door and opened it so Lay could get out. "Make sure no one sees you. Where are you headed?"
"The hospital," Lay answered.
The man muttered something under his breath. "Come with me, you can trust me, I'll give you a ride."
It seemed weird, leaving the shop from the back door, and then getting into a stranger's vehicle. However, the man seemed normal; just your typical coffee shop worker who meant no harm.
"Crap," he muttered, eyeing something in the hospital parking lot.
"What's wrong?" Lay tried to look at what the other was so frustrated about.
"It's not safe to go back there," the man concluded. Men in white suits exited their vehicles and marched into the hospital. Lay knew they did not work there.
"Who are those men?" Lay's heart began to beat fast.
"I thought you would know that," the worker replied, his face pale. "But I think they're looking for you."
e)(o
