Disclaimer: If I owned Mort, I'd be living with him in his cabin and doing very naughty things with (and to) him…but since I don't, I'm stuck here writing stories about him (sighs).
AN: I thought I'd mention that I have no idea how things work behind the scenes of a mental hospital (staff meetings, lunches, etc), so please don't get mad at me if I'm doing it wrong. OH, and pay attention to the orderly Alexander. What celebrity does he resemble? I dare you to guess! Here's a hint: he and Johnny have been in a recent, very popular movie together with lots of swords. Enjoy this new chapter!
Chapter 3: New Beginnings and Heartbreaking Endings:
Month Eight of Confinement/First Day of Training: Kayla's POV:
Rain pounded the road, creating a curtain of water that was nearly impossible to see through. Even though it was late morning, a person could have easily assumed that it was night. Considering the driving hazards, most people would have pulled over by this time, but with her luck, she highly doubted that would have been a good idea.
"Yeah, with my luck, a rapist or something would have tried to break in and kill me," she muttered, squinting her brown eyes.
Bad enough that her financial aid had run out early due to the incredible increase in college tuition...no, things had only gotten worse. Last week, after she had spent her last dime on rent, tuition, and books, her parents had decided that they'd supported her enough through her college career and had cut off all finances that had kept her clothed and fed. One call home pleading for help to fill her empty pockets, and Kayla Baker was officially on her own and broke.
"You're far enough into college that you can get a decent job and pay your own tuition and rent," her mother had said over the phone. "You won't be getting any more money from us…unless you want to prove that you're totally incompetent."
Silently fuming at her mother's words, Kayla had tried to talk to her father. She'd tried pleading for only enough to survive until she had managed to secure a job, but he had refused and hung up on her. Holding the receiver in her hand, Kayla could have sworn that her heart had broken at the sudden rejection. She wasn't a spoiled girl who had been handed everything in life, but now her parents were treating her as though that were the case. If she could find a reason for her parents sudden abandoning of her, it would have to be because of her brother, who would be starting college in a couple years.
'Probably trying to save up money for their precious baby boy,' Kayla bitterly thought, her hands tightening on the wheel.
After all, didn't Mom and Dad always say that Philip was the future of the family, the one who would carry on the family name after they were gone? Philip: the precious boy-child, the one who would end up supporting their parents when they were too old and run-down to work or fend for themselves. Kayla wouldn't be able to do that, she was only a girl, after all…
"Bastards," she muttered, focusing on the road. "Where did they get the idea that a daughter couldn't possibly do something with her life?"
Sometimes it almost made her glad that they had cut her off. At least now they wouldn't expect her home for the holidays; she'd save big-time on airfare and stuff by not going, and she wouldn't have to deal with all of those lousy relatives getting on her ass about not graduating fast enough. Oh, well, she hated the tiny town she was from anyway, and looking at endless fields of wheat every morning was hardly exciting.
Narrowly missing the guardrail that prevented people from going off the road, Kayla let out a stream of curses as she redirected her car. Who would have thought a mental hospital would be so hard to get to? Or maybe it was the fact that the weather was so shitty today…the career guidance councilor at the job office on campus had said that it was a very pleasant drive up there on sunny days, and that she might like it up there.
'Who in their right mind would actually like working at a hospital for the insane?' she thought, mentally rolling her eyes.
Still, it had been the only job that she was qualified for. As a student who's major was history and writing, she wasn't quite ready (financially or education-wise) to fly somewhere historical so she could research and write a book about something. There weren't going to be any oversea class visitations by the history department for at least six months, and to get in, you had to have money. So, with no other choice, Kayla had to take an office job at the Mary Preston Psychiatric Hospital.
From what she'd been told, it was supposed to be a temporary position and solution to her financial needs. However, it could become permanent if she got along well with everyone, staff and patients alike. Since she didn't have a background in medicine, she wasn't required to handle patients. Her only tasks were to sit in a secure area, safely away from the patients, and do what the staff members told her. From what she could gather, it was a flexible schedule: she could work full-time during school vacations, and work whatever hours she could when classes started up again. All she would have to do was file papers, answer phones, and page doctors over the intercom. Her reward would be a tidy twenty dollars an hour (or more, if she were promoted), full benefits, and ten days vacation.
'Not bad, huh? Not bad at all.'
An hour later: Kayla's POV:
'Oh, man, I forgot how much I hate hospitals,' Kayla thought, taking a small, experimental sniff.
Even though her grandfather had died nearly eight years ago, she still remembered how sterile and clean the place could smell. Everything was white, off-white, or beige, and there were no plants anywhere. Even worse was that, despite the fact that a window or two were open to let in the scent of rain and wet plants from outdoors, the lack of smells indoors quickly chased it out. Shivering at the need of atmosphere, Kayla pushed a strand of damp red hair out of her eyes and approached what she assumed was the front desk. Considering that it had a sign hanging over it that read 'front desk/reception,' she had to assume she was right.
A woman in a nurse's outfit stood within a large, isolated square area that was surrounded by plastic shielding. The shielding surrounded the entire area, and the rim of the desk came up to a seated person's chin. In the front of the desk there was a small waist-high opening so that a nurse or receptionist could address visitors through a window that slid open and shut from inside. From what Kayla could gather, this prevented patients from getting in and possibly harming anyone inside. To her, it seemed very safe indeed.
As she walked across the room to the reception desk, her sneakers squeaked, seemingly louder than normal in the quiet area. The nurse quickly turned around and smiled. Instead of waiting for her to arrive at the desk, the woman walked through a door in the back of the square. She looked nice enough, not like the evil nurse in "One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest" or anything. This nurse was very young and pretty, with long black hair and ice-blue eyes that were friendly. What she was doing here instead of working as an actress or supermodel was beyond Kayla's comprehension.
"Hello, are you Kayla, the new receptionist?" the nurse asked, lips pulling back into a welcoming smile as she offered a hand to shake. "I'm Holly Way, one of the chief nurses here at the hospital."
Kayla grinned back and took the hand. "Kayla Baker," she said. "The guidance councilor told me it was an office assistant job, though."
"Well our last receptionist quit a couple days ago to get married," Holly replied, rolling her eyes. "Gave us about five minutes notice…said she was eloping to get away from her grandmother or something."
Kayla's mouth formed an 'O' shape. "Just like that?"
"Yup," Holly replied, grinning. "So you're getting promoted just like that." She snapped her fingers.
Kayla laughed. "So are you going to show me how this works?" she asked, nodding towards the desk.
"Sure, let's get you started."
Over the next several hours, Holly explained all of the rules. Kayla nearly died of embarrassment when Holly pointed out that this was a professional establishment and that Kayla had shown up in jeans (black jeans, but jeans nonetheless) and a semi-casual green blouse. The blouse was alright, but from then on, she had to wear dress-pants, preferably black, dark gray or navy blue.
"Since you aren't a nurse, you can't wear a nurse's uniform," Holly explained. "And the dressy outfit will distinguish you from some of the visitors we get. Visitors usually are friends or family, and they wear whatever they want, so you'll stand out in a crowd." She winked.
Kayla chuckled. In a place like this, standing out in a crowd would take more than a nice outfit. Still, it didn't seem that bad, and she told Holly so.
Her new friend nodded. "Most of the patients here are non-violent, just occasionally aggressive," she said. "Still, everyone would prefer you to stay within the receptionist area where you'll be safe from anything the patients might pull on you. You're also to not help out the patients in any sort of way."
Walking over to the desk, Holly offered her a seat and proceeded to show how the computer system worked, as well as the color-coded filing system and how to answer the phone and greet visitors. There was even a refrigerator for drinks, a radio, a coffee maker, and large drawer full of snacks.
Holly chuckled at Kayla's surprise and delight. "It gets kind of isolating and, dare I say it, maddening in here," she said, grinning. "We try to make it as easy on receptionists as possible, considering there aren't a lot of visitors or people to talk with. The staff will usually be too busy dealing with the patients to talk with you. But on quiet rainy days like today, we usually have time to chat while patients stay in their room or go to the game room to entertain themselves…with supervision."
Kayla nodded. "So what can you tell me about everyone else? You know, staff members, patients, etc."
"Well, the staff members are people like me. Normal, friendly, yet professional people who know what we're dealing with," Holly replied. "The patients are a different story. We handle non-serious people. No violent offenders or prisoners of any sort. Some patients have the mentality of young children and behave as such. If you tell them in an adult voice not to do something, they'll listen. If they're upset, they'll throw fits and have to have a 'time-out' like children do. One thing we never do is physically harm any patients." Her piercing blue eyes focused on Kayla. "Whatever you do, don't use physical force unless you deem it absolutely necessary. If you use it lightly, the doctors will not hesitate to fire you."
Kayla nodded. "I know self-defense, so I can handle not actually harming someone," she replied. "I can easily subdue them, like pin them to the wall or floor, if that makes you feel better."
Holly let out a relieved sigh. "That'd be great," she said. "You won't be allowed sedatives, so knowing how to handle people on your own will keep a huge burden off of the staff."
"Is there anyone I should especially avoid?" she asked, leaning back in the office chair. It was surprisingly comfortable, and the padding in the back would keep a person's back from getting sore or twisted out of place.
"Well, we've been having problems with one particular patient," Holly slowly replied. "His name is Morton Rainey."
"Morton Rainey?" Kayla felt her eyes nearly fall out of her head. "As in, Mort Rainey the author?"
"Exactly," replied Holly. "Now, I'm only telling you this because you look like a woman that he's been hallucinating about for months. She's got the same red hair and brown eyes that you've got, and we don't want to see you hurt by him. I'm telling you this because he's been known to cause some problems with the other patients and I don't want him to get his hands on you."
"So I should just avoid him, right?" Kayla asked, suddenly worried.
"It's not that simple," her friend stated. "He's allowed to go about his own business like everyone else, and sooner or later you're going to run into him. Just remember to try and get behind the desk when you think you're in danger. Then you push this button." Holly leaned over and showed a hidden button under the desk, right by the entry door to the desk area. "Push this, and a light goes off in the roof of all the places where staff members hang out. Someone is bound to see it a minute after it goes off to come and deal with any difficulties you might have."
Now Kayla started shaking. "This is sounding more frightening by the minute," she said, trying to joke.
A soft hand touched her shoulder. "Don't worry, stuff like that rarely happens," Holly whispered. "If you know how to take care of yourself in such a situation, that's more than any of the previous receptionists knew when they were hired. I think you'll do just fine here."
"Thanks, Holly," she whispered. "I can call you Holly, right?"
Laughter filled the area. "Well, duh, of course you can! That's what friends are for!" A punch in the shoulder and a ruffling of the hair followed. "Now lets go to the staff lunchroom where your wonderful meals will be served, and I can introduce you to the others."
That Evening, Kayla's POV:
As she warmed up inside her apartment with a cup of hot chocolate, Kayla mentally went over the day's events. After being introduced to the staff, she found them to be as pleasant as Holly told her they'd be. The female nurses were happy to have another girl on the team, and the males (guy nurses and orderlies alike) just looked happy to have a new piece of ass to stare at on their breaks. At least the doctors looked like they appreciated her as a fellow worker and not something to drool over. Still, everyone was nice and gave her a warm welcome, as well as a few tips on how to handle herself around aggressive patients.
One of the perks about this job (besides the health benefits) was one of the orderlies. Alexander, or Alex, was especially hot with his shoulder-length, tousled, wavy dark-brown hair and brown eyes that always seemed to be warm and smiling. Plus, he was tall andfairly muscular. He looked like he belonged in the movies, right next to Holly, or at least some other gorgeous woman. What he was doing at a mental institution was beyond her.
After a small brunch with the staff, Kayla worked the desk under the watchful eye of Holly and Doctor Vincent, chief of staff. It was rather unnerving to have the head of staff watching her work, but at least she didn't make the building explode or something while he watched. That would have been interesting…disastrous, but interesting.
After a few hours of work up front, Holly and another nurse, Mary, showed her around the different wings of the hospital, some of which were off limits to her. When she asked why, she was told that some wings were used to isolate dangerous patients or to 'punish' patients by keeping them isolated from others. Some had the legendary 'rubber rooms' that she'd seen in movies and hadn't thought actually existed. It kind of freaked her out, and she was glad that she didn't have to go into those wings. If she had to, for some reason, she would be escorted, which made her feel a little bit better.
She dealt with a few visitors under the ever-watchful eyes of Holly, and was grateful that the day had managed to end without any mishaps. Any disasters would have made her look really bad in front of the others, and Kayla wasn't sure she could handle that sort of embarrassment. Still, it hadn't been that bad of a day at all.
"Now if I can only manage to get my paycheck within the next week or two, I'll be able to actually buy groceries," she said, sipping her hot chocolate. At least she got free decent breakfasts, lunches, snacks, and dinners at the hospital. That would keep food bills down.
Maybe this job wouldn't be so bad after all…
That Evening: Mort's POV:
Something was most definitely different about the hospital today. He couldn't think of what, but the air seemed different…like something had suddenly changed for the better. It was so hard for him to explain what it was to himself, but it was there. The staff seemed a bit more chipper than usual, especially the male members of the nursing and orderly staff. The women seemed happy, but not as happy as the men. That was interesting…
Setting his pen and paper aside, he leaned back in his chair and looked around his room. He had been forced to go to the game room today, even though he didn't like to play games with anyone here, staff member or patient. The orderly who had been trying to get him involved in a game or two had given up and handed him a pen and paper to write with and left him alone. Finally alone with his thoughts, as well as the tools to make them come to life on paper, Mort had eagerly 'dug in.'
With the day almost over, however, his tools were again taken away from him. The staff members were now concerned about his dreams and took every opportunity to read whatever it was he had written that day. Mort was smarter than they gave him credit for, though. He knew what they were doing, so he merely wrote out his latest story ideas for them to take and analyze as they pleased, letting them have their fun. As the staff read over what were merely fictional ideas of his imagination, Mort had been able to slip his descriptions of her up his robe sleeves to be read and worked on later in his room. Smiling, Mort thought about how clever he was.
When no one was paying attention, he had managed to sneak a few pens away from the other patients during the creative time they were given to write their feelings. Even though the nurses were careful to collect the writing utensils after the writing period, they never went looking for pens that patients threw in a fit of rage. They were often too busy trying to calm down the angry patient, and by the time they remembered to go looking for it, Mort had already snatched it up. He then replaced the tossed aside pen with one that he had used up during his nightly writing sessions in his room.
Sighing, Mort leaned back in his chair and looked out the window, trying to figure out the time. From the position of the moon, it was almost time for the staff to check up on him. He'd better put his stuff away and try to get some sleep…he had a lot of writing to look forward to tomorrow. Picking up his papers and pen, he tucked them underneath his clothes in his drawers, thankful that the orderlies and nurses never invaded his clothing drawers.
Taking off his robe and laying it aside, Mort slid beneath the sheets and removed his glasses, setting them gently on the bed-side table. Lying back on the bed, he closed his eyes and tried to think of his dream-angel.
Dream Sequence: Mort's POV:
It's almost time, Mort, she said, smiling at him.
"Time for what?" he asked, again trying to reach of her.
Time for a lot of things, she replied, shrugging. For now, it's almost time for me to stop seeing you this way.
Mort swore he felt his heart stop. "What do you mean?" he cried. "You can't leave me, not like this! Not while I'm still locked in here!"
Please trust me when I say it's for the best, Mort. She gave him a comforting smile. I promise we'll see each other again, and it will be much sooner than you think.
"Wait, what do you mean?" he said, panicking even further. "Please tell me what you mean!"
I'll see you soon, Mort, it will just be in a different way…
A flash of red hair in the wind, and she was gone.
"NOOOO!"
Sitting up in his room, Mort realized she was gone.
AN: I hope that was okay. At least you've now met Kayla (wink, wink). Please leave a review!