It’s Killer

by Eli Lyons

Ray walked in the back entrance, next to the large, retractable, metal delivery doors. They were closest to the staff parking lot. He put out his cigarette in the gutter. The words Alta Bates Summit Medical Center reflected off his mirrored glasses. A large white delivery truck rested in one of the recessed concrete bays. The words, “Gregor Farms,” stood out in large green lettering against the white metal sides of the truck. “Quality Organics since 1995,” it read underneath the logo. The speckled linoleum floor squeaked as Ray walked to the locker room.

“Hey! Haven’t seen you in a bit, Ray,” a bald man in scrubs greeted Ray from across the room, stuffing a shirt in his locker.

“Tony! Good to see you too, good to be back,” said Ray.

“I would reconsider your statement, friend, Judy has some new staff for you.” Tony moved towards the door.

“Oh great, just what I need,” said Ray.

“You wanna get lunch today?” Tony asked.

“From downstairs? No way,” Ray replied, slightly disgusted.

“Hahaha,” Tony laughed. “It’s not what you think, the cafeteria started buying locally while you were gone. You should try the roast beef, it’s killer. I think it’s from one of those organic farms.”

“Maybe I’ll stop by later. The roast beef right?” Ray asked.

“Yeah, catch you around, Ray.”

“Later, Tony.”

Ray changed into his blue scrubs and took his white medical coat off its hanger. He walked out of the locker room toward Judy’s office.

Ray opened the door and walked inside. Behind a desk sat a medium sized dirty blonde woman with green eyes. She was on the phone.

“No, I don’t want them in by Tuesday, I want them in today!” Judy talked loudly, but in a controlled manner into the receiver. “Yeah, yeah, that’s fine, just make sure you’re not late…Okay, bye.”

“Take a seat, Ray. And may I say we’ve missed you this past week,” said Judy, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs.

“Thanks, Judy, I heard you got some newbies for me?” asked Ray.

“Fresh out of nursing school, just for you, Ray. Don’t know endocervical forceps from episiotomy scissors. Their names are…” she looked down at a sheet of paper on her desk, “…Zach Gregor and Laura Pearson.”

“Ugghh…where can I find them…”

“They’re waiting for you in the nurse’s lockers,” said Judy, sitting forwards and pulling out some paperwork. “Oh Ray, one more thing,” Judy called as Ray was about to exit. “There’s been a tragedy. An infant died in the nursery last week. I thought you should know.”

Ray was awestruck. “Oh….” A cloud descended over his consciousness. “Who was on watch?” he asked.

“One of the new nurses. Don’t hold them accountable though, Ray. There was nothing any of us could do. You know that.”

“Well…thanks for telling me…see you later, Judy.”

“Farewell, Ray.”

Before heading to the nurse’s lockers, Ray stopped in the obstetrics office. He grabbed the check-off clipboard and headed to the nursery. The sheet on top showed the layout of the nursery, all 40 beds, and the names of their occupants. The highlight of Ray’s day was walking the aisles of the nursery, looking at the newborn faces. He checked them off on his clipboard as he passed. He recorded a grand total of 30 infants. Returning to the office, he replaced the clipboard. He would cross-reference it with the sign-out list and make sure all the newborns were accounted for at the end of the day. Ray headed toward the nurses’ lockers.

Refraining from running outside to the comfort of his cigarettes, Ray walked into the nurse’s locker room. “Okay…who wants to be an obstetrician?” he asked, rather abruptly to the five or so gathered people in the locker room. The nurses were engaged in conversation, but at Ray’s arrival they became silent. Two nurses in scrubs approached Ray, the rest resumed the discussion. He couldn’t help thinking that one of these people had let an innocent child pass away. The very thought sickened him, yet he also felt compassion. It was a horrible burden to bear on one’s conscience. The male nurse reached Ray first.

“Hello, I’m Zach, and this is Laura.”

“Good morning to both of you, let’s go,” said Ray, the lack of a smile quite obvious on his face. He opened the door and began down the hall. “I don’t care who you are, who your daddy is, or which presidents you voted for, for the rest of your time here you will listen to exactly what I say and execute it without failure, is that understood,” Ray asked, not turning around. He quickened his pace a small amount.

“Yes,” said Laura.

“Yes, sir,” said Zach.

Ray stopped mid stride and turned suddenly. “Do not call me sir,” he said, pronouncing each word for maximum effect. “I am your senior staff, not your dictator, although for our purposes presently, I might as well be.” With that he resumed his arduous pace down the halls.

“What has Judy been occupying you with?” he asked them.

“We’ve been training in the nursery,” said Laura.

“I understand there was a fatality there last week,” said Ray, still walking. Both nurses were silent. It was a moment before Ray realized they were no longer following him. Zach had his arm around Laura, the two of them walking towards Ray slower than he would have liked.

“I…it…I was just…oh God…” Laura’s eyes began to tear up.

“There was nothing you could have done…” Zach offered from her side.

Ray felt immediately sorry for having blameful thoughts earlier. “Laura, it wasn’t your fault. It is a part of this job,” Ray said to her, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Today we will be delivering. I want you to watch me carefully, then it will be your turn. There is no room for error, is that understood?” Ray asked.

“Yes,” replied Laura and Zach, acknowledging Ray’s seriousness.

Ray entered the room to sharp, pained gasps, the two nurses trailing him. He moved over the supine woman. A pale blue hospital gown was draped over her enlarged belly. The man next to her was clutching her hand tightly.

“Please place your feet in the stirrups, ma’am,” said Ray, calmly.

The woman’s gasps quickened and increased in intensity, pain evident in her exclamations.

“Zach, fetch that tray,” Ray commanded, motioning towards a rolling platform with various stainless steel instruments on it.

The gasps were now screams. The woman tightened her grip on her husband’s hand. The sounds continued to escalate. Shrieking flooded the room. Ray was focused on the noise. He could read the noise. Suddenly another voice joined the calamitous choir. A high pitched whine broke over and silenced every other sound. The mother’s screams stopped. Red roses grew on the white sheets.

It was lunch. Ray walked downstairs to the cafeteria. Tony had been unable to join him. Ray wandered down the steps to the main deli window.

“Roast beef sandwich, please,” he said to the woman behind the counter. He paid for his lunch and walked around to the delivery doors, pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. The sandwich was delicious. Meat had never tasted so succulent to Ray; flavor dripped out of every bite. He left the lit cigarette neglected, and it burned to the filter while he was eating. Tony was right. The fresh, organic meat was delectable. Forgetting his urge to smoke, Ray walked back to his office.

When he arrived he grabbed his clipboard and headed to the nursery. On his way he popped into the maternity ward for a moment, to check up on Zach and Laura. He stopped at the door and peered in. Zach was prepping for delivery, while Laura was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey! Where’s Laura?” Ray asked, slightly annoyed.

Zach turned around. “Wha…oh. She ran out a moment ago,”

“What the fuck! God damn it…,” Ray turned and strode furiously out the door. ‘Can’t trust em for a second’, he thought to himself. Ray found Laura in the nursery, bent over an infant. He stormed in.

“Laura! What are you doing?”

She withdrew her hands quickly from the infant’s bed.

“Oh! Oh…I…uhh…I was…err…I wanted to go–”

“Can it, why aren’t you helping Zach? This is unacceptable. You’re supposed to be learning.”

“I’m so sorry Ray! I just…I couldn’t help it! I feel so terrible!” Laura’s eyes began to well up with tears again. “It was my fault entirely! I couldn’t save him!”

“Laura…” Ray began, moving closer to the nurse. Laura closed the distance between them and collapsed onto Ray’s shoulder.

“It’s ok, Laura. There was nothing you could do…” said Ray, his comforting arm encircling her. As if a jolt had run through her spine, Laura straightened and pulled herself away. She smoothed back her hair and dabbed at her eyes.

“I think I’m ok now,” she said.

“Good, just forget about it and go help Zach.”

“Thanks, Ray,” said Laura. Her eyes darted quickly to the infant she had been observing, then back.

The clipboard in Ray’s hand displayed 4 rows with 10 beds each. He moved to the first bed in the first row.

“Lee, Becky,” he read off the clipboard to himself. He checked the nametag on the baby’s wrist, it was a match. He placed a check mark over the first box on his clipboard. He continued like this down all the rows. In the last bed of the third row was the child Ray had delivered himself that morning, number 30. “Riley, Jim,” read the bracelet attached to his minuscule wrist. The child was lying in a blue blanket. The hospital color coded the blankets in the nursery – pink for girls and blue for boys. On his way out he heard a crunch under his foot. He kneeled down to inspect the cause of the noise. A crushed hypodermic needle cap, a common piece of hospital detritus, lay flat beneath his shoe. He threw the cap in the trash and walked to his office to sign out for the night.

Ray arrived at the hospital at eight the next morning, put on his scrubs and coat, and headed to the nursery. He walked up and down the rows, checking off boxes. There were four new infants, bringing Ray’s total to 33. ‘Wait’, he thought, ‘there were 30 yesterday….’ He flipped to the previous page. He counted 29. ‘Huh, could have sworn there were 30’, he thought, but there it was, his signature at the bottom proving its validity. He made for the door, but something caught his eye. The last bed in the third row had a pink blanket. He moved over to it. The name on the list and the child’s wristband read “Michaels, Tracy.”

‘Where’s the boy I delivered yesterday?’ Ray thought. He remembered it clearly, although when he tried to recall the infant’s name he found he was unable. Frustration overwhelmed him. He needed a cigarette. He would wait for Zach to come in and question him about the discrepancy. ‘Obviously the infant’s mother had taken him home early this morning,’ Ray thought. ‘Stupid nurses cant even follow procedure!’ In his aggravation he dropped his clipboard. Bending over to pick it up, he noticed a tiny, oblong item. It was another needle cap. ‘Why so careless with the trash?’ Ray thought, and moved out of the nursery. Ray glanced at his watch. 8:48. Zach would arrive at 9 sharp. ‘Time enough for a smoke,’ Ray thought. He passed two nurses on his way out the delivery doors.

“Have you had the roast beef recently? Its delicious,” said one.

“I heard Judy started buying from a local farm, you know, green business, good for the Earth and whatnot…”

Their conversation was cut off as Ray let the doors swing close behind him. He pulled out a slender cigarette and lit the end. He took long drags, the cloudy white smoke calming his nerves. He glanced at his watch again; 8:52. ‘Time enough for another,’ he though. He flicked the butt against the large, white delivery truck that stood next to him. Ray finished his cigarette at 8:55. ‘Should probably get going,” he thought. As he began walking to the door a flash of color caught his eye. He turned slowly and looked for it again. The rough scrap of blue stood out sharply against the painted white metal. Curious, Ray walked over to the large rear end of the truck. The piece of cloth had gotten caught in the locking mechanism of the Gregor Farms’ truck’s back door. He removed the fabric and scrutinized it. It was definitely from one of the nursery beds. He decided to investigate further. He tried the handle. It was unlocked. The truck door slid upwards silently as he yanked on the handle. The interior was dark, but Ray could make out boxes.

“Ray!” he heard from behind him.

Ray swiveled to face the noise, but a foot caught him in the stomach and he tumbled backwards into the open truck. Ray quickly rose to his feet, hands shielding his eyes against the outside light. Another blow landed on him, this time in the neck. Ray struck out with his hands and grasped wildly at the air. His right hand connected with his assailant’s body, but came away rather quickly grasping a small object. The tiny, stainless steel needle met no resistance as it slid into its mark, the lethal fluid inside making its way into Ray’s bloodstream. Ray dropped to the ground, face first. His right hand opened on the way down to reveal a black plastic nametag. Zach calmly reached down and affixed it to where it had been torn off. The truck door slid closed, concealing Ray’s body in total darkness.

“Hey, Laura, Ray’s not coming in today, he called in sick,” said Zach.

“Oh that’s too bad. Want to get some lunch later?”

“Yeah. I hear the roast beef is pretty good.”