A melody, hardly louder than a whisper, arose over the silence the infirmary was engulfed in for most of the night. Singing to herself was an act of self-soothing the young nurse practiced to keep the silence and loneliness at bay, as well as the scary apparitions that always came to haunt her in this building.
Bent over a large wood working table, the nurse worked diligently with an array of different medicinal plants and herbs, crushing them down to a paste with the aid of her stone mortar and pestle.
Sudden loud shouts emanating from the corridor were enough to startle her, causing her to knock down some of the glass vials used to preserve the plants fresh in the apothecary. The young woman didn't bother to pick the vials and their contents up, instead, she cleaned her hands from the stains and strong smells the plants left on her fingers over the light brown apron she donned over her nurse uniform when working on stocking the clinic with medicines.
She rushed to the double mint-colored doors that marked the entrance to the Temps Commission clinic and opened them ajar to allow easy access in case a coworker was being brought in and carried in the arms of another.
Yet there was no rushing emergency as she came to find once she was out in the hallway. There was no Correction Agent bleeding to death over the pristine white ceramics of the floors. No one was being carried in with a half-chopped limb. Not even a drunk coworker from the main office being helped in between two friends to get some help with detoxification and intense vomiting.
Surprisingly, before her stood the elegant figure of a woman known as The Handler, accompanied by an older man she hadn't seen before in her time working for the Temps Commission.
It was the man who had been shouting before, protesting about not needing a doctor, or a nurse, for that matter. She saw the annoyance on his face take pause as he took notice of her presence. This gave the Handler the opportunity to regain control of the situation and placed her fine long fingers over the man's lips to make sure he now remained silent.
The action sent a shiver down the nurse's spine. She didn't like the woman in the slightest, and feared her deeply.
"Tut Tut Tut old man, we need you up and running as soon as possible now you have already signed that contract and I've held my part of the deal with getting you out. I'm sure that after decades in that little private paradise of yours, our Jossie will be able to do something for you." The Handler gave the man a flirtatious smile before laying eyes on said nurse . " At least you can't complain. I'm leaving you in the hands of an old and ugly nurse. We went far in time to find her, so don't scare the little dove will you?"
Five Hargreeves scoffed angrily and seemingly offended by The Handler's insinuation. He was old. He was aware of that. Yet, he wouldn't ever allow himself to fall into the deplorable and embarrassing stereotype, of a dirty old man, that needed to be coerced by the nice legs of a nurse to take his damn pills
"Fine." Five dryly conceded, seeing he didn't have options in this matter, but to follow the orders of his new employer.
"I'll come tomorrow's afternoon. Make sure he's ready by then Josie. "The Handler ordered, purposefully staring with intensity at the nurse.
"Yes ma'am. I'll take care of him. "
The Handler took delight to watch Josie visibly squirm below her gaze. She was such a jittery little thing that it would be considered cute if it wasn't so pathetic coming from a full grown woman. They had headhunted Josie out of 1868 to cut costs for she was a skilled apothecary, or as it would be called now, a pharmacist. She being able to make her own medicines and remedies brought huge savings for the Temps Commission, one of her better ideas that had earned her a hefty raise in her paycheck, and had also allowed the department of Research and Development more funding.
"And you…" The Handler said, her tone becoming flirty once again as she gave her sole attention to Five "Get a good night's sleep darling. Dream of me, " she said with a chuckle, letting her fingers sensually caress his cheek.
To the nurse's surprise, the man gave The Handler a dismissive hand gesture and walked into the infirmary by himself, hands resting inside his pockets. She had not been the one to commit such a transgression against The Handler, but she felt dread over her bones as if she had done it herself and gave a scared final look to the elegant woman before following her new patient through the double mint doors.
Five canned the infirmary with reserve, noting the identical beds lined at either side of the walls waiting for patients. The atmosphere of the place was cold, like any other hospital, with a lingering smell of disinfectant. In spite of it, someone had bothered to try and make the place warmer and more comfortable for anyone unlucky enough to need one of these beds for the night. He took note of the small ceramic vases holding flowers, reading lamps with a warm light and a selection of novels in every night table, the hand knitted blankets neatly folded at the base of the mattress that were extremely soft to the touch. Lost in his observations, it took a while for Five to notice the little nurse standing behind him. She was carrying over her arms a set of folded pajamas, and over them a fluffy towel, and other toiletry amenities sealed in a bag.
"I brought these for you, " she raised the items gently to show him what she was bringing and took the final steps to be right next to him and laid everything neatly down in the bed he seemed to have chosen for the night. Her brown eyes were looking at him with curiosity and her lips parted and closed a couple of times as she tried to gather some courage to speak her following words.
"My… n-name i-is… " her words tangled over her tongue unsure how to introduce herself. Everyone in the Temps Commission called her Josie, yet that was not her true name. Josie was a name given to her by the Commission out of convenience.
"Josie?" Five offered, he had heard the Handler refer to her as such, and wondered if the young woman was stuttering due to being scared by his unruly appearance and took a seat on the bed.
"You can call me that, everyone here does, "her hands nervously played with the hems of her apron feeling utterly silly for having tried to introduce herself, when the Handler had already given out her name.
Five frowned.
"That's… not your name? " he asked, catching up with her behavior. He had indeed noticed a thick accent in her English. She spoke it well, but her pronunciation belonged to someone that learned the language later in life.
" People have a bit of trouble pronouncing my name…it's easier for them to use Josie and that's… fine… "
"Try me. I can assure you I'm not most people" Five said with a smirk below his unkempt beard and mustache as he rested his hands over his knees leaning closer, daring her to have a name he couldn't pronounce.
"it's… Josefa. " her tone of voice slightly changed as she moved to her native language.
It was an outdated and strong sounding name. Five had studied ancient greek and italian under his father´s tutelage , but had learned enough spanish along Diego to defend himself in casual conversation.
" Josefa" he replied, sounding the J correctly in spanish with a more H sound, making him close to the pronunciation of a native speaker. Five observed her dark brown eyes brighten at hearing her true name be called as a big smile plastered over her face. The quiet response from Josefa softened the wariness he was feeling since meeting The Handler in what was left of the Argyle public library in 2043.
"I don't see the difficulty in the pronunciation. It seems to me, you've been surrounded by idiots and assholes , if you allow such language from an old man. "
Josefa giggled at his remark as she took a seat in the bed next to him. She now too seemed much lighter, as whatever that had been worrying her had washed away. It made Five realize she hadn't exactly been scared of him earlier, she seemed to be a skittish woman and had he met her some thirty years ago, he would have found her jumpiness and insecure nature annoying, but ,now as an old man, he wasn't bothered by it. He understood it. He had lived through enough to know life was indeed hard and unnerving. He could also appreciate the fact she wasn't faking a front to cover this side of her character that would be considered weak by most, but left it there for everyone to see.
She just… was. Somehow it was comforting to him after just getting away from the devastation of the apocalypse.
"I'm Five" he extended a hand covered with a fingerless glove for her to shake, which she took readily with a smile so bright in her face, that made her look much younger than she was.
As Josefa held his hand, she couldn't help but notice the blisters that were brushing against the palm of her own hands
"May I? " she inquired, looking down at his hand that she was still holding.
He nodded, unsure of what exactly she was to do. But thankful she had asked before.
She took both his hands on her own, and removed his gloves, revealing calloused and rough hands that were covered in several blisters.
"These must hurt. " she acknowledged and reached for a rag that she dipped in a bowl of water to begin to clean his hands off from the dust and grime they were covered in.
"They're fine," he mumbled. Five found himself unwillingly embarrassed at the fact that such soft hands were touching his own coarse ones and fought the initial desire to retrieve his hands back.
He hadn't even been aware of the blisters she was now tending to. He didn't notice small injuries like that anymore, for they had become such common occurrences in his apocalyptic life.
She cleaned his hands. First with water and soap, then with iodine over the blisters. She was being so careful and tender with such small injuries, that he became enthralled with watching her work.
"I told The Handler I didn't need a nurse. " He felt that surely her time could be better spent somewhere else.
"I heard… but you shouldn't worry. You're doing me a favor by keeping me company. I was all by myself tonight " her voice was tainted with the relief that company brought her. Looking into his green eyes, Josefa leaned in closer to him and mimicking her, Five found himself leaning in too so she could speak her next words closer to his ear.
"The infirmary is haunted . Ghosts appear at night, but they'll stay away when they see you're around. "
Five felt a chuckle rising from him at the idea his presence was keeping some ghosts from terrorizing a young woman. "These ghosts of yours are scared of old men? "he felt amused and didn't notice he was smiling till he felt the tug on his cheeks.
"Now you're making fun of me… "
"I'm not ."
Five looked around the solace of the place. He could see how a young woman might fear such a place when left alone in it. "My brother can see the dead. It used to terrorize him. I'm glad I can be of service to a little lady. "
Josefa smiled with relief over the fact he wasn't being dismissive of her. She was still working over his hands. She had cauterized a needle over flame and had punctured the blisters with the needlepoint to drain the fluid and was now applying petroleum jelly over them to aid them heal. "Did your brother… stopped fearing them? "she asked, hopeful that he would know a proven remedy.
"I'm afraid not. "
"OH… "
Seeing her eyes lose the brightness they had gained earlier when he spoke her true name, made him instantly rummage his mind for words that could fix that. "Back then, we were both kids. I didn't have all these wrinkles and gray hair to scare them off, maybe if I had, they too would have left him alone. "
She giggled at his remark. "You're funny. " she seemed timid to voice this.
He had not intended to be diverting, but he felt that tugging on his cheeks once more.
"All done!" she announced inspecting her own work to make sure she hadn't missed anything"I'm sure before I continue patching your injuries, you'd might like to go take a hot bath and get changed into clean clothes" she said patting the set of blue men's striped pajamas to emphasize what she considered to be the next step of his healing.
"That… actually sounds pretty good to me. Where do I… "he stood with all she had brought earlier for him tucked between his hands and chest in search of a door or corridor that would seem to take him to a bathroom.
"It's the white door at the end. The left handle is for the hot water. Be careful, we've been having problems with the boiler, and it might come out too hot. If it gets tricky though and you need help, just shout for me. "
Five only hummed as an answer and headed to the door she had told him about.
"Mr. Five? "She asked him to get his attention before he left.
He found himself snorting again. He had never been called Mr. Five before. Not even Dolores had even tried to berate him in that manner when he did something she disapproved of. He turned around on his heels "Yes?"
"Have you eaten yet? Would you like some chicken soup? "she asked standing before him, her hands clasped before her toying with her apron once again.
"No, I haven't," he felt his mouth water at the offer of a meal. A real meal. "That… would be very nice Josefa, thank you"
A smile crept over her face, after the fact that her soup wasn't being rejected as it was usually. Patients never wanted soup… or Jell-O, they wanted meals featuring steak or venison and potato salad as if they were in a restaurant down the street.
"I'll heat it up for you then, so it's ready when you come out. "
Behind the white door, Five found a full functioning bathroom. He stared at his reflection for a few moments. He had seen before glimpses of himself in shards of mirrors he found along the rubble or on the murky reflections of puddles.
He was fifty four years old, but he looked so much older… some twenty years older at least. He opened the toiletry bag and to his surprise found a shaving knife and cream. He had tried to shave once he hit puberty and got some stubble. It ended with him enduring many face cuts and he decided trying again was not worth it. Nobody would care if he had a beard or not, he didn't have anyone to look clean or nice for, and shaving hadn't made him feel more of a man as he imagined it would.
Now… now it was different he guessed. Since he arrived at the compound of the Temps Commission, he had seen people at every corner. Walking down the street talking gayly as they headed in search of some recreation after office hours. People, driving cars back to their homes.
So, he took the cream and the shaving knife and went for his second attempt. This time his hand was steadier than when he was seventeen, and he wasn't afraid of cuts as he ran the shave close to his cheek. Not being afraid, seemed to do the trick as he shaved all of it, leaving a clean face. Now before him stood a completely different man. He was still looking too old for fifty four , but he was feeling much better.
Then it was his hair's turn. He took the hair trimmer and began to cut all the matted gray hair away, just leaving a bit of hair close to the scalp to not be left completely bald. Without his messy hair and beard, it was apparent how thin he had gotten over the decades. How hollowed his eyes looked.
Five decided to stop looking. The more he stared, the less he fancied what he saw. It would be better to take that hot shower the little lady had been talking about. He undressed and stepped into the shower, the water indeed was too hot, but by toying with the other handle he found an agreeable temperature.
It felt nice.
Extremely nice.
He watched dirt and grime wash down his body and soon he was singing to himself one of those hideous pop songs Alisson used to play endlessly back in 2002, back then it had filled him with irritation over her bad musical taste. Now, it was comforting to still remember the lyrics.
Barefoot firm steps announced Five´s return. As promised, Josefa had a bowl of chicken soup ready for him at an auxiliary table.
"There's more if you want any second helpings" she said, bringing the table closer to Five. Aside from the soup there was fresh bread, butter, and a glass of water. The Handler handt briefed her from where she had brought Five, yet she could see he was malnourished and had probably not had a meal, or a proper one in a long while. So she had brought food that would be soft to his stomach, so he could ease into eating properly without suffering from stomach pains.
Five tried to keep composure and not act and show table manners of that of a farm animal. But once he tasted the food, he just couldn't help it. He chugged it down hungrily, liking the taste of the warm broth, the tenderness of the chicken and freshness of the vegetables.
Josefa sat silently before him, she had a small bowl of soup for herself, so he wouldn't have to eat alone.
Five was too hungry and occupied to notice at first. But he took notice by his second helping, that she was having dinner along with him. He slowed down in his food intake. Embarrassed, even if she had made no comment on his manners or even seemed bothered by it, he tried to clean the soup dripping from the corners of his mouth with the sleeves of his pajamas, yet he noticed the cloth napkin next to his glass of water and used that instead.
"You didn't have to join me." His voice sounded accusatory even if he didn't intend for it.
"Nobody should have to eat alone Mr. Five" was her soft answer, Five could tell she was almost expecting him to berate her.
He looked down at his plate and the little set up she had done in such a short time, it felt utterly domestic and…warm. Back at the Academy, he and his siblings were meant to remain silent during every meal, then during the apocalypse there was no one to share food with, and even Dolores liked silence to eat and enjoy her food.
Now he had company it seemed, but he wasn't sure how to act, now he had it.
"We don't need to talk," she offered, noting his hesitation.
Five felt relief at the offer, yet he found that's not exactly what he desired. "It's not that… I'm not used to have company at meals" he broke a piece of bread in half to give himself something to do "I'm afraid I'm not that good of company, even if I seem to be doing just fine as a ghostbuster"
Josefa smiled understandingly. She wasn't the most apt at conversation upon first introductions, but she was willing to try for him. "That's all right, I can try to do most of the talking."
Five smiled, thankful, and got comfortable in his bed, still with the bowl of soup cradled in his hands in a sense afraid, the precious food would disappear, or be gone, before he could quench his infinite hunger.
She talked of a Monsieur Moreau, that Five learned was the actual doctor, or physician as she called him, of the clinic that had taken Josefa as his protegee upon her arrival at the Commision some eight years ago. That surprised Five, for she didn't seem to be any older than twenty five, if not younger, how young had she been when she was taken from her time?.
She told him a bit of her work with the elaboration of medicines using only plants and herbs, of Madrid the city that had seen her born, about her mother and how she had learned to cook from her, and some messenger pigeons she had taken care of as a child, and the ruckus they would cause in the backyard that she clearly adored, if he could guess by the longonging in her voice as she told him about it.
He had have truly intended to stay up till the break of dawn when sunlight would brush her fears of foul apparitions away, but he succumbed to tiredness and fell asleep somewhere around two in the morning Still not completely gone to Morpheus domains, he felt her soft hands tuck him in with the knitted blankets he had noticed upon his first inspection of the clinic.
For the first time in decades, Five Hargreves had a peaceful sleep.