3 - Phyllis the Klutz

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The hospital that Charlotte and her sisters worked at was a vast building, with four floors and several polished white wings. Many nurses and doctors worked at this hospital, Charlotte and her sisters included. Daily, injured soldiers would pass through the doors and be cared for by the nurses. Some injuries were worse than others, but for the most part, it was not as hectic as Charlotte had feared it would be. The Truly sisters, and three other young nurses, worked at the North Wing of the hospital, and the North Wing was always occupied by at least three injured soldiers lying in beds. The North Wing was one long hall bathed in sunlight, lined with beds. Medical equipment and tables laden with instruments adorned the wing.

        Charlotte had forgotten all about Private William McCaden, the soldier whom she'd met when she was seventeen, two years ago. Her new job as a nurse and all her new patients and friends had totally wiped him from her mind. Before, she used to constantly wonder how he was doing, whether or not he was alive, if he had forgotten about her-- things like that. But upon beginning her intensive nurse training and starting her job in a white uniform, Charlotte seldom let her mind revisit that night at the jazz club in 1941. If anything, Charlotte became even more uptight, strict and anti-fun.

        "Rise and shine!" Charlotte boasted one early Monday morning in the bedroom she shared with her sisters. Charlotte walked briskly down the line of her sisters' beds, shaking them awake vigorously. "Up! Up! We have to be at the hospital! Come on!" 

        Marilyn groaned, sitting up from her bed and rubbing her eyes. She yawned, stretching luxuriously. "Oh, Charlotte, can I please have a minute or two? I'm so tired... what is with you? We've got an hour!" Marilyn looked horrified. 

        "The streetcar awaits!" Charlotte scolded. 

        Betty rolled her eyes as she unwound her blonde locks from their curlers, pampering her hair. "Loosen up, will you, Charlotte? We've got plenty of time." Betty yawned. "I haven't slept a wink since last week! I've always been getting night shift, and now's my chance to sleep. You know what my sleep was like? Crummy, that's what it was like!" 

        Charlotte irritably applied a layer of lipstick over her lips and made sure her uniform was properly smoothed down before shrugging on her jacket, slipping on her shoes and slinging her purse over her shoulder. "Alright, alright, don't flip your wig." Charlotte muttered broodingly under breath. "Look, just hurry, okay?" 

        "Fine," grumbled Sally, fully dressed. After hastily doing her makeup and making sure her curls were tight and rigid beneath her nurse's cap, she stood expectantly in front of Charlotte. "Shirley and Ruth are handling night shift, they should be perfectly fine if we're a little late--" Upon seeing the aghast look on Charlotte's face, Sally quickly added, "-- which we aren't going to be!" 

        After a quick breakfast of carefully rationed food, the four girls headed out. Down the street they walked, Charlotte leading the group. Her sisters, meanwhile, trudged along behind, grumbling about how impossible their sister was being. 

        "I'm worried," Charlotte was saying as the four girls boarded the streetcar. "We've got Lieutenant Harrison in Bed Fourteen, he wasn't in such a great condition last night... I hope he's alright. He told me all sorts of war stories from overseas." Charlotte looked deeply troubled. 

        "Oh, relax," Betty assured her sister. "Shirley wouldn't let him die. Now come on. Don't think like that." 

        Charlotte sighed. "I'm sorry. It's just-- this war has got me stressed out. That's all. Sharon from the third floor's two brothers were both killed last week, and Dorothy from the second floor's husband is missing in action. The poor thing, I wonder how she copes... no closure..." 

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