---

 

This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book... “Carpool” Down in the Dirt, v149 (the September 2017 Issue) You can also order this 6"x9" issue as a paperback book:

Order this writing in the issue book the Light in the Sky the Down in the Dirt Sept.-Dec. 2017 collection book		get the 418 page May-August 2017 Down in the Dirt issue anthology 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Shane

Clarence Chapin

    The receptionist noticed him as he passed her desk. She called out “Hi Shane” in a friendly way. That was what most people called him. Some people used the abbreviated “Doc.” Some of the more enthusiastic women used pet names. Others just called him “Boy.” It was not meant to allude to his color. He was much younger than his patients. He did not care what he was called as long as they let him do his job. Some of the staff judged him by the way he looked. They did not think he should be allowed to be there. He took it in stride. Some prejudices never die.
    He reminded himself that it was not about the nurses or the doctors. The reason he stayed was because of his patients. He was there to help heal them. If he could not heal them he at least tried to make them feel like people. Many of them found it difficult to remember who they were. The way some of the nurses treated them did not help their confidence any more than it did their conditions. He tried to be different. He wanted to win their trust. If nothing else he wanted to be a friend to them. For some of these people he was the closest thing they had to a friend. It was not a burden. He felt glad that he could make a difference in the lives of so many people. It was a small difference but if it helped them in any way that was why he was there. Some of the doctors had forgotten that. They did not see the people. They saw only weakness.
    Shane had a general rotation he followed but usually he could visit whatever patients he chose. He was not a healer of the traditional sort. That was why many people did not like him being there. He worked around the nurses and doctors rather than with them. His methods of healing rarely fit with theirs. He thought his methods were better. He was sure they felt the same way about their own practices. For him it was not a competition. Whatever method healed a particular patient was the best one. In almost every case it was a blend of their methods and his. That was why he considered the staff allies. Even those who disliked him. The only enemy here was death.
    The first room in his rotation that morning belonged to Shauna. The color of her dark body almost matched his own. She hated getting up as much as Shane did. She was extremely cranky in the mornings. Someone else might have tapped the door and tentatively announced their presence to avoid offending her. That was not how Shane did things. He had maintained some of his youthful mischievousness as an adult and he displayed it when he could.
    So this is what he did. He entered the room and walked to the edge of the bed. He tried not to see her frail form or hear her ragged breaths. He ignored the tubes and wires that kept her alive. Then he plopped onto the bed beside her.
    Her head shot up from her pillow. Curses flowed freely from her thin lips. She was angry and startled. But these emotions reminded her that she was still alive. Sometimes that was all that sick people needed.
    “Shane!” She said after her initial shock. He could not make out her entire response through her profanity. She swatted him playfully but he knew she was happy to see him.
    Once she calmed down she started to speak. Shane listened to the words but he put more weight on the way she said them. He learned long ago that was the best way to read people.
    By the time the nurse came with her food Shauna was laughing aloud.
    “Shane,” Eva said. Their eyes met and she gave him a respectful nod. She liked him. She appreciated what he was trying to do. She was one of the few.
    Shauna seemed disappointed that Shane was forced to leave so soon. But she understood. He had so many people to see today. He left Shauna to her food and continued down the hall. It had been a short visit. But he had made her laugh. He hoped that was enough for today.
    Shane spent most of the afternoon visiting other people in the wing. He sometimes broke his planned rotation if he heard or saw something that seemed urgent. He realized that grief could come at any moment and wanted to be ready when it did. Shane was familiar with most of the patients but he did not know many of them by name. He tried not to put too much emphasis in names. What living beings were called did not seem as important as the way they expressed themselves. The way they moved. The way they smelled. The way they felt. One word could not represent all of that. So he tried to get past the names and focus on the people.
#
    It was an odd thing about Yvonne, concealing her eyes behind sunglasses during the day, and behind visors at night, so no one could see the whiteness of her eyes. Eva had never figured out why it should matter, since she couldn’t see their reaction. It made it difficult to determine when she was asleep, and when she was pulling a fast one to avoid her morning shots.
    “Did Shane stop by?” Eva asked, to determine which one was the case that Monday. Shane loved the patients, and the patients loved him. Any mention of Shane brought them out of whatever daze they retreated to in their loneliness, and allowed them, however briefly, to rejoin reality.
    The tactic worked, because Yvonne stirred in her bed, using every bit of body language she could to show that she was irritated at being disturbed, but that she was glad she had been.
    “How do I know? I’m blind. You should be the one telling me.”
    Some of the other nurses dreaded visiting Yvonne’s room, but Eva understood her. She was a fiery woman. Mean, but not mean-spirited. Eva liked her.
    “Shane has visited me every day for the past—how long have I been here, anyway? I have trouble seeing sunrises. The lighting in this room is terrible.”
    Eva smiled sadly. “You’ve been here for almost a month.”
    “It seems longer.”
    “That’s what they all say. I think you’re responsible for two of our interns quitting. That’s impressive for twenty-eight days.”
    “It’s good to know I still have an impact. You ever been in a place like this for that long?”
    “I work here full-time, Yvonne.”
    “I mean as a patient. You ever been anywhere like this for that long?”
    “I was in a hospital for almost a week after a surgery once.”
    “Did it seem like a week?”
    “Now that you mention it, it seemed like a year.”
    “Then you understand what I’m saying. You feel me, don’t you girl?”
    “Don’t talk like that Yvonne. You’re too old, and you’re much too white.”
    “Am I? All I see is dark. I thought maybe I’d changed, being around you.”
    “No. You’re still white, and I’m still black.”
    As she finished the injection she asked, “Has Shane been helping?”
    “You and Shane are the only ones that make this place bearable. When can I leave?”
    “I don’t know, Yvonne. You’ll have to ask Dr. Mitchell.”
    No one, patient or staff, seemed to like him.
    “He’s an asshole,” Yvonne said.
    “That might be true, but so are you. What did he say last time?”
    “The same thing you said. He doesn’t know. I’m tempted to just pull the plug out of the wall so I won’t have to wake up in this place tomorrow.”
    “Don’t be talking like that, or I’ll have to increase your dosage.”
    “It’s funny, isn’t it? Outside, you end up in prison for messing around with needles. Now that I’m a prisoner, I get as much as I want.” Yvonne smiled her toothy smile. “Beam me up, Scotty. It’s not like there’s a cure. I might as well enjoy the finale.”
    Eva smirked. “Girl, you are a rare breed.”
    When Eva had finished her rounds, she decided to pay a visit to Dr. Mitchell. She dreaded the encounter, but this wasn’t about her. So she grudgingly entered his plain, lifeless office, which wasn’t ornamented by pictures of loved ones, only grotesque portraits of extreme illness.
    “Dr. Mitchell?” The man insisted on being addressed by his last name. Eva wondered if he made his unrepresented relatives do the same. It wouldn’t surprise her. “Yvonne asked again, when she’d be able to leave.”
    “That’s probably because she forgot she asked every day since she’s been here.”
    “She has dementia, Dr. Mitchell.”
    “And she’s blind. And she has cancer. And as of last week, she has no family to speak of.”
    Eva was caught off guard. “What about her son?”
    That caused Dr. Mitchell to look up at last, through the thick glasses that enlarged his listless eyes, which saw only symptoms. “She didn’t tell you? I guess that shouldn’t surprise me. He died of an overdose. Ecstasy, ironically. His funeral was three days ago.”
    “That’s awful.” Eva had taken some much needed time off that week so she was out of the loop. She knew it was silly to feel guilty for the way she’d razzed her earlier. Eva hadn’t known, and for all she knew, neither had Yvonne. Still, it was a sad thing.
    “Awful. Yes, I suppose it was, though it was his own choice,” Dr. Mitchell agreed without inflection. Or compassion. “Given Yvonne’s condition, it would have been unpractical to have her attend the funeral. When I explained the complications of getting her across the country and back, and how difficult it would be on her in her condition, she told me she would consider it. The next morning when I checked in on her, she told me she was getting ready to mail his birthday card.”
    Eva frowned. “She told me that too. That’s why I didn’t know anything had happened.”
    “I explained the situation again the following day, and received the same response. In the end, I had her write him a letter and had one of the interns send it to the ceremony. She doesn’t remember that either.”
    “The poor girl.” That girl was more than twice Eva’s own age. Still, that was how she thought of her. That was how she thought of most of her patients.
    “So to answer your question,” Dr. Mitchell said at last. “She’s never leaving this place.”
    His tone wasn’t callous, only indifferent. He was stating just another fact. It was easy to see why he was in his fifties and had never been married.
    “I have a lot to do. Is there anything else?”
    “Yes, actually. Lindsay wants reappointed. She refuses to work with Mr. Chin anymore. She says he’s become violent.”
    “What was it this time?”
    “He threw his lunch tray at her.”
    Dr. Mitchell sighed. “I know he’s dying, but that’s no excuse for his behavior. Unfortunately, what can we do about it? I say let him die in peace. If Lindsay wants to be reappointed, I’ll take care of it. I’m sure someone around here would be willing to—”
    “I’ll take it.”
    He seemed surprised. “I’d planned on sticking one of the interns on it. Why you? You know what he’s like. I know you think of these people as your kids, but Chin won’t talk to anybody. Not anyone that’s not Chinese, anyway.”
    “Maybe you’re right. Maybe he won’t talk to me. But maybe he will.”
    Dr. Mitchell handed Eva the clipboard. “If you need to give that back at the end of the week, I’ll understand.”
    “I won’t,” Eva said. She hesitated before asking her only request. She knew how Dr. Mitchell felt about him. By-the-books Mitchell scoffed at any type of holistic therapy, whether it be animals, music, massage, meditation, or prayer. In his mind the only thing that cured disease came with a doctor’s prescription. “I was wondering if...”
    “Shane?” Dr. Mitchell’s lips twitched. “He can be involved. For all the good it will do.”
#
    Another day. The receptionist noticed him as he passed her desk. She called out “Hi Shane” in a friendly way. That morning Shane decided to start his rotation with Yvonne. That was what the nurses called her. Shane did not care much for names. He knew her as lonely and desperate. She could not see in life and she could not see a way out of her current situation. Of all of his patients Shane loved her the most. She could not see the world. She could not remember the things that happened to her. She was just waiting for her cancer to kill her. So that she could die. Alone.
    Shane did his best to make her last moments in this world happy ones. He could do nothing else to help her. He could only love. So she spoke and he listened. When she touched him he did not pull away. When she said nothing he allowed her the silence for personal reflection. There was never a feeling of awkwardness at neither of them speaking. They both knew that they both cared. They had formed a bond quickly when she had first arrived. Though their friendship was short their love for each other felt as if it had survived generations. It almost felt as if their spirits were connected.
    Shane stayed as long as he could. He had other patients and Yvonne understood that. As he was leaving her room she called out to him. “Shane.” He looked back at her. She did not say any other words. But she spoke. And he listened. She wanted him to get her out of this place. He wanted to help her. He just had to figure out how.
    After visiting a few more patients Shane ran into Eva in the hall. She had always been supportive of him so there was no question of denying her request. After a quick exchange she led him to a room he had never been to before. As they approached the door a nurse ran out crying. A tray crashed against the opposite wall. From inside the room came a series of angry shouts. Shane felt a little nervous but he had witnessed similar behavior before. He knew there was a root to it. It was his job to either cut it or let it grow.
    Shane indicated that Eva should enter the room first. As she did Shane watched the reaction. A moment later she exited the room as the nurse had. A bowl followed after her. Shane considered this interaction. Then he entered the room.
    The angry glare that Eva and the nurse must have seen was still etched onto the man’s face. But as Shane drew cautiously closer the man’s features gradually relaxed. Shane indicated that he was not a threat. He wanted to help. Mr. Chin understood.
    The angry man began to speak in a language that was unfamiliar to Shane. Shane listened as well as he could. He took note of the man’s body language and facial expressions. He embraced the spirit of his company. Over the following hours they formed a connection that could not be described in words. When Shane left the man was smiling. A smile wasn’t much of a cure. But it was a start.
#
    The next morning, Eva made a point to brag to Dr. Mitchell about what had occurred between Shane and Chin.
    “No one has been able to reach Mr. Chin for the past three weeks, and in less than two hours, Shane had him smiling.”
    Dr. Mitchell grunted. “Shane. Our resident angel.”
    “He is.” After a moment Eva said, “I think Shane could even bring you around.”
    Dr. Mitchell finally glanced up from his paperwork. “Bring me around to what?”
    “To becoming human.” Eva enjoyed Dr. Mitchell’s expression as she closed his office door, but she gave him no more thought once she entered the hall. She had a long day ahead of her, and lots of people to see. Out of all her patients, she was most worried about Yvonne, so she decided to head to her room first.
     When she entered her room, she noticed that Shane had fallen asleep beside her. It was funny, because Shane never seemed to think himself off duty, which is why he’d often be found curled up in a patient’s room instead of the cubbyhole where his cage was kept. He liked to keep his patients company, even when they weren’t awake. It was an endearing trait.
    “Come on Shane, get up. I need to give Yvonne her medicine.” He was a stubborn one, but usually he’d obey once he realized his puppy-dog eyes wouldn’t get him anywhere with Eva. But he hadn’t opened his eyes yet. He must have been exhausted. “Come on Shane, wake up.”
    He didn’t move.
    “Stubborn dachshund.” Eva pulled the tray to the side. “What did you do to the poor dog, Yvonne? Did you wear him out, playing?”
    Her eyes were covered with her visors, but her wan face was stretched in a thin smile.
    “I see you smiling Yvonne. I know you’re awake. Come on now, today is a busy day. I don’t have time for your pranks this morning.”
    Yvonne continued smiling. One frail pale arm, stuck with an IV, lay on the bed between them. Her right arm rested on Shane.
    “Yvonne?”
    No answer.
    “Shane? Here boy.”
    He didn’t move.
    And then she knew. Shane had done what no human could have done for that woman.
    More than anything else, Yvonne had wanted to leave this place and return home. Shane had helped her do that. Sometime before sunrise, they’d left together.

Copyright of written pieces remain with the author, who has allowed it to be shown through Scars Publications and Design.Web site © Scars Publications and Design. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author.

Problems with this page? Then deal with it...