The Things That Stay [new draft]

Part 1 - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

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         THE PATIENT IN ROOM 210 had never made things easy on anyone, so it was only natural that he would choose the most inconvenient time to die. New Year's Eve was about as dramatic a holiday as any, and it was certainly not a night the remaining orderlies wanted to spend juggling IV bags and defibrillating. Most of the staff had the evening off, exchanging their stethoscopes and syringes for confetti pops and tequila shots. There were only two nurses left in the Pulmonary Ward when 210 flatlined.

Tulsi was there because nobody else was. In all likelihood, the other secretaries had no intention of wasting the final hours of 1985 behind the P-Ward reception desk, languishing under endless, droning rows of fluorescent lights. Who could blame them? This certainly wasn't her first choice, either, but working overtime was surely more productive than draining a whole jug of boxed wine alone in her apartment. Still, this particular part of the hospital was reserved for non-contagious pulmonary cases, so the atmosphere was almost always sluggish and depressing. Even the brand-new air-conditioning unit seemed to wheeze. For her part, Tulsi had been nose-deep in a medical journal ever since her shift started, only half-listening to the New Year's resolutions of her coworkers down the hall in the nearby staff break room. (Nurse Nina Cortez wanted to lose twenty pounds—apparently her goal increased by a factor of five every year—and Nurse Mary Katherine hoped to go from two packs of Virginia Slims a day to just one.) Tulsi found herself craving a cigarette of her own, but hadn't the wherewithal to get up and head to the designated smoking room; instead, she just flicked her brass lighter on and off with one hand and held open her periodical with the other—an article on the expansion of malignant tumors.

"Oh, I should check on Simon before midnight so the doctor doesn't have to," Nina had said at one point, and Tulsi faintly recognized the name: a long-hauler with a penchant for passing out early, as she'd never so much as glimpsed him on her usual night shift. "Such a pity he wasn't feeling up to joining the other patients in the rec room."

"Yes...and he seemed so eager for New Years," was Mary K's response. "Speaking of—can you believe Dr. Staroska's still hauled up in his office? Who on earth volunteers for a thirty-six shift on New Year's Eve?"

"I think he's worried about Simon: been watching the boy like a hawk lately. But hovering isn't his job—that's what we're paid for!"

The two nurses chuckled; then Nina had left the lounge and walked down the south hallway. Tulsi observed the departure out of the corner of her eye, but quickly lost interest. She'd just gotten hooked on a paragraph about high grade Lymphomas and their response to antibiotic shots when the head nurse's voice crackled over the intercom, ricocheting through every hall: