He stared hard at the list of classes offered, though he had the list memorized already: English 101, 102, and 103; Math 101, 102, and 103; history, and so on. Martin thought it sounded a lot like high school and wanted to do something new, go somewhere else; he wanted to start over and forget.
He glanced up from the brochure and the nurse was still staring. She raised her cup in a sort of hello that startled Martin, his own cup slipping from his fingers and splashing coffee onto his shirt. He zipped his jacket to cover up the spot, then stood and headed to the exit. He turned around one last time to look at the nurse and she was still smiling. She gave him a little wave. He thought she was probably crazy.
When he returned to Hannah’s door, she wasn’t there. He stood outside her room for several minutes and then made his way to the nurses’ station, where he found the green-eyed nurse who didn’t look quite as crazy as she had downstairs. “Hey,” he said.
“You’re the guy who ran away without giving me his name.”
“Yeah, I . . .”
She motioned for him to come closer. “It’s OK,” she said. “Charlotte’s doing rounds. She’ll be giving little Leon his antibiotics. Leon likes to talk after taking his meds, so Charlotte won’t be back for a while.”
Martin smiled and stepped closer to the nurses’ station.
“You’re the guy who keeps bringing presents for Hannah and doesn’t want to be seen,” the nurse said quietly, looking around, making sure no one heard her. “Don’t worry. I’ve noticed you and haven’t said a word about it. I know you’re harmless. I’m a terrific judge of character. You look very trustworthy—a little sad, maybe, but not dangerous,” she said, nodding.
I was right, she’s crazy, Martin thought. But she didn’t look crazy. She looked pretty and sweet.
“My sister knows someone who goes to school with Hannah. One of her good friends,” he lied.
The nurse nodded.
“Where is she?” Martin said, trying not to stare at the nurse’s pretty lips.
“I’m sorry,” she said, leaning forward, “but the poor girl’s back in intensive care. I used to work in intensive care.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t work there anymore. I was transferred.”
“No, I mean with Hannah.”
“Oh,” she said. “Of course. You don’t care about my work.” She laughed.
“What happened to Hannah?” he asked again.
“Fever spike—we think it’s some sort of infection. We’ve been running tests for days.”
He looked down at his shoes and thought about giving the nurse the paper dolls for Hannah, but decided that he’d already risked enough just talking to her.
“I gotta go,” he said.
“What’s your name? I can tell the family you came by.”
“Never mind,” he said.
“I won’t tell the family. Obviously, you’ve been giving gifts anonymously. What was I thinking? You don’t want me to tell the family. I won’t tell them. I haven’t told them yet, and I won’t. You don’t seem like a lunatic,” she said.
“Thanks, I guess,” he said. Then, “I’ll come back when the girl gets better.”
“What’s your name?” she said, again. “Hey, hey,” she called after him, but he was already walking away again, heading to the elevator, and pretending he didn’t hear her.
11
WHEN HANNAH’S temperature suddenly spiked, the doctors and nurses seemed to morph into other people. Aggravated and impatient, they rushed around her bed with jobs to do. Their movements were quick, setting up a new IV line, taking her pulse with extra pressure to her wrist. There wasn’t time for pleasantries or the compliments Hannah had grown accustomed to. They were busy and stern professionals. Hannah didn’t feel so smart or mature anymore. She was crying like the baby she was. Dr. Roth leaned in close enough for her to feel his hot breath on her hot face, for her to smell whatever pungent thing he had eaten for lunch. “Where does it hurt?” he
He glanced up from the brochure and the nurse was still staring. She raised her cup in a sort of hello that startled Martin, his own cup slipping from his fingers and splashing coffee onto his shirt. He zipped his jacket to cover up the spot, then stood and headed to the exit. He turned around one last time to look at the nurse and she was still smiling. She gave him a little wave. He thought she was probably crazy.
When he returned to Hannah’s door, she wasn’t there. He stood outside her room for several minutes and then made his way to the nurses’ station, where he found the green-eyed nurse who didn’t look quite as crazy as she had downstairs. “Hey,” he said.
“You’re the guy who ran away without giving me his name.”
“Yeah, I . . .”
She motioned for him to come closer. “It’s OK,” she said. “Charlotte’s doing rounds. She’ll be giving little Leon his antibiotics. Leon likes to talk after taking his meds, so Charlotte won’t be back for a while.”
Martin smiled and stepped closer to the nurses’ station.
“You’re the guy who keeps bringing presents for Hannah and doesn’t want to be seen,” the nurse said quietly, looking around, making sure no one heard her. “Don’t worry. I’ve noticed you and haven’t said a word about it. I know you’re harmless. I’m a terrific judge of character. You look very trustworthy—a little sad, maybe, but not dangerous,” she said, nodding.
I was right, she’s crazy, Martin thought. But she didn’t look crazy. She looked pretty and sweet.
“My sister knows someone who goes to school with Hannah. One of her good friends,” he lied.
The nurse nodded.
“Where is she?” Martin said, trying not to stare at the nurse’s pretty lips.
“I’m sorry,” she said, leaning forward, “but the poor girl’s back in intensive care. I used to work in intensive care.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t work there anymore. I was transferred.”
“No, I mean with Hannah.”
“Oh,” she said. “Of course. You don’t care about my work.” She laughed.
“What happened to Hannah?” he asked again.
“Fever spike—we think it’s some sort of infection. We’ve been running tests for days.”
He looked down at his shoes and thought about giving the nurse the paper dolls for Hannah, but decided that he’d already risked enough just talking to her.
“I gotta go,” he said.
“What’s your name? I can tell the family you came by.”
“Never mind,” he said.
“I won’t tell the family. Obviously, you’ve been giving gifts anonymously. What was I thinking? You don’t want me to tell the family. I won’t tell them. I haven’t told them yet, and I won’t. You don’t seem like a lunatic,” she said.
“Thanks, I guess,” he said. Then, “I’ll come back when the girl gets better.”
“What’s your name?” she said, again. “Hey, hey,” she called after him, but he was already walking away again, heading to the elevator, and pretending he didn’t hear her.
11
WHEN HANNAH’S temperature suddenly spiked, the doctors and nurses seemed to morph into other people. Aggravated and impatient, they rushed around her bed with jobs to do. Their movements were quick, setting up a new IV line, taking her pulse with extra pressure to her wrist. There wasn’t time for pleasantries or the compliments Hannah had grown accustomed to. They were busy and stern professionals. Hannah didn’t feel so smart or mature anymore. She was crying like the baby she was. Dr. Roth leaned in close enough for her to feel his hot breath on her hot face, for her to smell whatever pungent thing he had eaten for lunch. “Where does it hurt?” he
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