High C

3. Visiting Hours

It didn't feel like a dream. In most dreams you can't actually feel anything. But Bob felt himself on a gurney covered in stiff white sheets. He was surrounded by white, in fact. White walls, white ceiling and as he rolled his eyes back to take in more of the scenery, a cute blonde looking down over him in a white, old fashioned nurse's uniform, with long cuffed sleeves and cap like a folded table napkin, as opposed to pastel scrubs. She was fussing with his pillow and humming a song he vaguely recognized. Something his grandfather used to sing at Christmastime. She looked like a Hollywood starlet of the black and white era, only in saturated colour with bright red lips which broke into an excited smile when she realized he was looking up at her.

"Hi there," she beamed with all the warmth of a long lost relation.

It confused him. "I said I didn't want to go to the hospital," he grumbled, but it was hard to be short with the pin-up nurse gazing at him so lovingly.

"Don't look at me, kid," said the man with pomaded hair and a pencil moustache in a dinner jacket standing on the other side of him. Bob hadn't been looking at him, hadn't even noticed him there until he spoke.

The nurse paid the man no mind.

"Who's that?" Bob asked, even more confused.

Her smile didn't change. "That's the guy they send in when everything's going too smoothly and they need someone to mess it up."

"Oh," said Bob, trying to decipher her meaning. "Why's he wearing a tux?"

"A tux!" the man scoffed. "My dear boy, I really have tried but your penchant for dungarees and those shirts that look like long-johns have made it obvious that fashion is not your forte. This is a formal dinner jacket," he said, sweeping his hand away from his chest to showcase the look. Another sweep of his hand in the opposite direction transformed the jacket into a crisp tuxedo, black tie and all. "This is a tux," he said.

"I see it now," Bob said calmly, looking for an exit sign. "Do you both...work here?

"I'm Crystal," said the nurse, "and that's Jonas."

"The Incomparable Jonas with Crystal," the man corrected her.

The one called Crystal posed with her second introduction and the nurse's uniform she wore transformed into a different version, one with a much shorter skirt and cupcake sleeves.

Bob shook his head looking for an explanation in it. "Is this what they mean by a Shriner's Hospital?"

"We're your guides," Jonas said.

"To discharge?"

"Your spiritual guides. Through life."

"Well it snows in Texas now, so sure," Bob said drolly, now convinced he was dreaming. He felt under his sheets to see if he was dressed. His subconscious had done a thorough job of setting the scene. "Could someone hand me my pants? I'd like to get home."

As he tried to sit up both characters shouted "no!" and shoved him back down again by his shoulders.

"Oh, Jonas, I touched him!" Crystal said in an excited whisper.

Jonas' brow furrowed as he reached his hand out to brush Bob's shoulder again. He tried to hide a small smile and turned his face away. Bob mouthed calling for security but chickened out on giving it volume.

Crystal grabbed Jonas' arm. "Gee, are you tearing up? You big softie. You're gonna get me going."

"I know I'd like to be going so..." Bob tried.

"I'm afraid you can't go anywhere just yet, Robert," Jonas said. "We called in a big favour for you. We might even be breaking the rules. Not that I thought it was necessary but this one kept wringing her hands like she was making soap."