The Candy Striper

Lance 

     Another hospital, that's all I could think as we pulled into the parking lot. For the past two years I have been pulled in and out of hospitals all around the country. Each of them claming to have the best treatment center, best nurses, best doctors, but to me, I haven't seen any difference between them. Each of them possessing white floors and white walls. The musty smell of disinfectant and illness drifting though each hallway, no matter in what state it was in. All the rooms I have been in have two white, uncomfortable bed, a small television, and a side table next to the bed. As I walked into the doors of the hospital, my nose wrinkled at the familiar smell of a hospital.

     A tired looking nurse walked up to me, a forced smile plastered on her face. "You must be Lance Timpltion." I nodded in response. "Let me show you to your room," She said though her teeth as she began to walk down the hallway, grumbling something under her breath.

     I couldn't blame her for her grumpiness. One thing I noticed about nurses at my never-ending stay at hospitals was they worked for long hours, caring for countless patients, and don't get many breaks. If anything, I actually appreciated her attitude. So many hospital works act so cheery and happy around you, acting like nothing is wrong, when you know something is. I would rather be told the hard truth than an hopeful lie, because you learn it's a lie, your heart breaks and it takes everything you have to not give up fighting.

      "Here is its." The nurse said, putting on her fake smile again. She pushed the door open and lead me over to the bed. "If you need anything," She pointed to the big green button on the inside of the railing around the bed, "Just push that button and on of the nurses at the station will be here as soon as possible." With that she left the room.

      I laid down on the bed, sifted and moved around until I got comfortable, then stared at the television set. I didn't pay much attention to what was actually on. I was zoned out, preparing myself for the countless operations, medical exams, test. Then, went the test result don't come out with a positive result, my parents pull me out and ship me to another hospital.  

     "Who you rooting for?" A male voice pulling me out of my thoughts. I looked over my shoulder to see a guy that appeared to be a little younger than me, with one leg and one arm rapped in a plaster cast. His dark hair was shaving in a buzz cut, and his tan skin gave away that he came from along line of southerns, if the twang in his voice wasn't a big enough hint.  

     I shrugged in response for the question. "I don't really follow teams. I just like to watch the sport. It's better than reality TV at least."  

      He nodded in agreement as the sounds of the baseball game filling the room. After a few moments of silence he said, "I'm Buck by the way."  

    "Lance." After awkward silence fell over us again, I decided to strike up a conversation since the game wasn't that interesting. "So how did you break your arm and leg?"  

       Buck sat up straighter, puffed out his chest and said in a proud voice, "I'm an award-winning dirt bike racer. I was doing a victory lap for qualifying for state regional, when my dirty bike flipped over, throwing me off." He chuckled a little before continuing. "I'm famous in this hospital. About once of week I come in with some kind of injury. The staff even calls me Bad Luck Buck. So that's why I'm here. My doctor decided it would be easier to keep me over the weekend, since I would probably be back by Monday."  

     I chuckled under my breath. "It sounds like you have a smart doctor." He chuckled and nodded his head as we both returned our attention to the television. It wasn't long before I began to hear murmurs outside the room. A loud shh quieted the conversations right before a loud choir of voice began singing, "Happy Birthday." Candy stripers, nurses, and a doctor came in, all singing the song in a different key. The first person in the door was a candy striper with a birthday cake in her hands. She had a sunny disposition to her for a person who worked in a hospital, and not fake happiness. I genuine smile displayed on her face as she sang. She looked about my age, her curly brown hair framing her face, green eyes shinning in joy.  

     As she placed the cake on Buck's lap as she kissed him on the cheek. "Happy birthday, Bucky." Chuckling at her little nickname for him, she turn around, "Now who wants some cake?" Hands simultaneously shot up, inducing Buck's.

     As soon as she cut the first piece, she handed to Buck and looked over at me, a friendly smile spreading across her face. "Do you want a piece of cake?" For some reason, my voice was caught in my throat. Something about her pulled me in her direction. After I realized I have been looking at her, dumbfounded, I looked down at my lap and just shook my head. Even though I was embarrassed from looking at her, I continued to look at her as she hand out the rest of the cake. How could someone be so happy in a hospital? Everywhere you looked there was illness and death, but yet you would think she was looking at the world though rose colored glasses. After, serving herself a piece of cake, she then leaned against the wall in between mine and Buck's bed. "So I guess your Buck's new roommate."  

     "I guess so," I smiled at her, receiving a cherry smile from her as well. 

    "Well," She looked at me, "Just don't let this guy get you into to much trouble." 

     "Come on." Buck whined, earning a chuckle from me and the candy striper. "I have been good recently."  

      Everyone ate their cake in silence, causally leaving the room once they were finished but not without saying, "Happy birthday." To Buck again.  

      The candy striper was the last one to finish. Before leaving, she grabbed the remainder of cake. "I'll keep this in the staff's refrigerator and I'll bring you a piece with your dinner and a big slice for breakfast in the morning. Ok?" 

    "You're the best." Buck smiled up at her. "Now about my gift..."  

    The candy striper gave him a shocked expression. "I thought the cake was your gift." Buck had a mischievous smile on his face as he shook his head. Sighing she replied, "Fine what do you want?" The smile on Buck's face only widened, before he closed his eyes and puckered his lips. Giggling, the girl pressed her palm against his lip, "Nice try, Buck."  

    He laughed along with her. Shrugging he said, "A guys got to try." She laughed harder and waved good-bye as she exited the room.  

     As soon as I couldn't hear her footsteps any more, I looked over at Buck. "Who is she?"  

    "That, was Mary. Everyone calls her Saint Mary, simply because, well she acts like her. She spends every ounce of her free time volunteering at the hospital. But don't waste your time, man. Every guy in this entire city wants her, but she always here. So unless you want to have a date in the cafeteria, I wouldn't ask her out."  

      I nodded my head. There was no doubt in my mind that other guys find her attractive. I mean, any one with two eyes could see she was beautiful. Even though I knew Buck's words were completely true, a little part of me longed to get to know Saint Mary.

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Ok guys. A candy striper is a volunter at the hosiptal. The are normally 13-18 years old. They got the name "Candy Striper" because of their triditonal outfit. Its a dress with red and white strips on it, the more strips the more you volunter. The name striper comes from the navy because the more strips you have on your uniform the more expranced you are. Also the red and white of the outfit resemles a candy cane. So we got the name "Candy Striper."