One Dead Under the Cuckoo's Nest by Lori Avocato

right.”
    Great. One step closer to becoming friends with my ticket out of here. “Wonderful. I really don’t feel too well. My head is killing me. Sinuses. You know.”
    She nodded and guided me to the door, which she unlocked. Stepping aside so I could walk in, she said, “Oh yes, child. Sinus problems are horrible. I suffer in the spring, so I barely go outside.”
    I may never see the outside again.
    â€œYes. But since my head hurts, perhaps my treatment could be postponed.”
    Sister stopped. “My, no. We have to keep our schedule around here. Sister Barbara is quite adamant about that. No. You cannot postpone anything. Besides, my child, your head will feel better after . . . you know.”
    You know. You know. You know!
    Yeah, I’m guessing a gazillion volts of electricity could make a headache go away if your head didn’t zoom off your neck in the process. Sure I knew this treatment wasn’t that much electricity, but I preferred no electricity to my brain.
    I looked around the room. Stark. A treatment table with that paper roll thingie tucked beneath. A few cabinets. And a horrendous looking gizmo of a machine near the bed sprouting wires and leads and electrodes. On a nearby table were a tongue depressor and some gel.
    I could bite my tongue during this treatment.
    I did not want my tongue bitten by anyone, even me.
    Well, I’d learned to save myself in my past cases, and now was no exception. So, I took in a deep breath and shoved Sister Liz with all my hundred and fifteen pounds. This was one time I wished I was a plus-size kinda gal.
    â€œOh!” From the corner of my eye, I noted that the sister had landed on the treatment table. But that was all I saw since I ran so fast to the door. Shit! It was locked. I hurried back to her and stared to grab her habit. There had to be a set of keys hanging from her rope belt. “I’m so sorry to have to do this!”
    â€œStop, child!”
    I felt something and grabbed with all my strength. A hundred pearl-looking balls scattered to the floor. Sister’s rosary beads. Oops. Not only did I face a brain zapping, but surely I was now on the wrong side of the higher-ups, who’d probably punish me for trashing a blessed set of rosary beads. I quickly said a silent prayer/apology to Saint Theresa so she’d pass it up to them for me.
    While preoccupied, I felt something on my shoulders. I spun and came around face to face with Spike—and he didn’t look any too pleased with me.
    Within seconds, I was strapped to the treatment table with Spike standing guard at my feet. Sister Liz stood in the background, fingering her broken beads. Every muscle hurt, especially my arm where I’d received that shot at the airport.
    I looked at her. “I’m sorry. I’ll buy you a new set. It’s just that . . . Please. Listen to me. I am not Mary Louise. And I’m a Catholic! I am Pauline Sokol , a nurse—”
    The door swung open. In walked what looked like a Swedish masseuse, dressed in a white pantsuit. Gigantic. Arms like boiled hams and a head of straight brown hair. I had no idea if it was male or female.
    Sister Liz nodded. “She’s going to behave now, Gretchen. Aren’t you, Pauline?”
    I looked from one to the other to Spike. I should lie here quietly, I thought. After all, the procedure couldn’t be too dangerous, or they wouldn’t be doing it on the mentally ill. Then again, I was sane, and what the heck would happen to my normal brain cells once they fried? That, I hadn’t learned in nursing school.
    Then again, maybe I too didn’t have any normal brain cells. After all, I’d taken this job.
    I felt a glob of gel on my skin and Gretchen sticking the electrodes to my head.
    I could lose my memory. Never know my family again. Never know Goldie or Miles. Never know . . . Spanky.
    I sucked in a breath as Gretchen continued to