Mabel Maney - The Case Of The Not-So-Nice Nurse

Cherry carefully untied the string holding the parcel together. Inside the brown-paper wrapper was Lana’s book!

“Why, this isn’t medicine!” Cherry cried. “Nurse Marstad must have goofed and given me the wrong package!” Although it was hard for Cherry to believe that Nurse Marstad ever made a mistake!

While she was loath to call her boss and admit she had opened the parcel, she knew, as a nurse, she was bound to deliver that special experimental medication!

“Even if I have to turn around and drive all the way back to Seattle General Hospital, I’ll do it,” she declared. “For there’s no such thing as a vacation from helping others!” She hopped out of her car and made a bee-line to the nearest public telephone. She fished through her wet purse for the correct change, and a minute later, she was on the line to the main desk at Seattle General Hospital.

“I’d like to speak to Head Nurse Margaret Marstad, please,” she said in a shaky voice.

“I’m sorry, miss,” the operator replied. “Nurse Marstad is on vacation.”

“How queer!” Cherry frowned. Why, she knew Nurse Marstad had just come back from a vacation.

“I’ll transfer you to our replacement head nurse. Hold, please.”

In a minute, Nurse Gerry George was on the phone. “I need to speak to Nurse Marstad,” Cherry said, trying not to sound frantic. “It’s very important.”

“I’m sorry, Cherry, but Nurse Marstad is gone.”

“Did she leave a message for me?” Cherry asked, not wishing to give away the nature of her call. “About a package?”

“She didn’t leave a message for anyone. It was the queerest thing. I got to work at eleven and was told I would be the replacement head nurse for a while. I’ve got to go, Cherry. Golly, I never realized how hard Marstad’s job was. Have a great vacation!”

Cherry went back to her car feeling more confused than ever. “What am I going to do?” she wondered. She glared at the book in her hand, “All this trouble,” she cried, “over a silly little book!” She tossed it on the seat next to her. A piece of paper fluttered to the floor. “Hmmn. Look, there’s a note!” Cherry felt a sense of guilt creeping over her. She was aware she was reading correspondence not meant for her eyes.

Midge—Mother having problems with Father. Holiday plans canceled. Trouble at home. Can you advise?

Pegs

“If Nurse Marstad simply gave me the wrong package, this note wouldn’t be in here,” she reasoned, remembering that the package had been addressed to a Miss Midge Somebody. “I bet Nurse Marstad went away because of her family troubles, only she was too ashamed to tell anyone about it.”

Cherry’s heart went out to the gruff-seeming nurse. “She hides a broken heart under all her brusqueness,” she thought, tears filling her eyes.

Cherry examined the cover of the book. The Lost Secrets of the Sisters of Mercy . Cherry was not a big reader, and religious stories did not appeal to her in the least. Still, the nun on the cover was awfully attractive, she thought.

She opened the book to the inscription page.

“With love from G.A. to C.M. ,” it said.

“This proves this is Lana’s book, for these are the same initials I saw engraved on her ring!” Cherry exclaimed. “Why did Nurse Marstad claim this book belonged to her?”

Cherry laughed at herself. “I’m sure there’s a very simple explanation for all this. Why, I’m starting to think everything’s a mystery! I’ll just deliver this parcel as promised, and when I get back to the hospital, I’m sure Nurse Marstad will clear all this up.”

But she still had a kernel of doubt in the back of her mind.

She decided to have a closer look at the book. “As long as I’ve already opened it, I might as well have a peek,” she reasoned.

She skimmed the first chapter. “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there is something very different about this book!” Cherry mused as she flipped through the pages. Why, except for some men hired to haul heavy furniture in chapter three, all the characters in the book were women! Fascinated, Cherry read on. Before she knew it, more than an hour had passed, and she was a quarter of the way through the book. She was so deeply engrossed she had lost track of the time.

“Oh, dear!” she cried when she finally checked her watch. Cherry prided herself on her promptness, and although she hadn’t called her mother to tell her she was coming, she had a schedule of her own to keep!

She put the book on the passenger seat, turned on her engine and put her car in reverse. But she found her exit was blocked by two men in a red convertible. She politely beeped her horn to let the men know they were blocking her way, but instead of moving, the driver got out of the car.

He threw his cigar butt on the ground, buttoned his black overcoat up to his chin and pulled his hat low over his face. He sauntered menacingly over to Cherry’s car. His companion had slipped behind the wheel of the convertible and was gunning the engine.

Cherry didn’t want to acknowledge the man, but she didn’t want to be rude, either. “Perhaps he wants my parking spot,” she thought.

“I’m leaving right now,” she said in a cheerful tone that belied her true feelings. Frankly, this man gave her the creeps! “There’s something about him that seems awfully familiar,” Cherry shuddered.

He leaned on Cherry’s car in an insolent manner and grinned. He squinted at her through thick black-framed glasses. “What’s the hurry, sister? My buddy and I just pulled in here for a nice cold beer. Care to join us?”

“No thanks,” Cherry gulped. “I simply must be on my way.” The man’s fresh attitude angered her, but she tried never to engage in a quarrel.

“Always turn the other cheek,” her mother counseled, and those were words Cherry lived by.

The man acted like he hadn’t heard her and opened her car door. Cherry gasped indignantly. “How rude,” she cried. “If you don’t quit pestering me, I’ll be forced to call for assistance!” she declared.

Beep! Beep! A large man wearing a loud Hawaiian shirt and driving a wood-paneled station wagon full of noisy children was trying to squeeze past the two cars. “Hey, buddy, you’re blocking the road!” he yelled. “Move it!”

The rude man in the black overcoat scowled, slammed Cherry’s door, and skulked back to his car. Cherry waited a few minutes after they drove off, hoping to put some distance between herself and the rude men. She pulled out of the parking lot and cautiously maneuvered her car through the heavy late-afternoon traffic. It would be dark soon, and although her mother wasn’t expecting her, if she happened to call the hospital and find out Cherry had left many hours ago for Idaho, she would surely worry.

She stopped at a service station and drank a refreshing orange soda while a capable young girl with a darling short haircut checked her oil, brake fluid and tires and cleaned her windows.

“Great story,” the girl said, pointing to the book on the seat next to Cherry. “You’ll love the ending.”

“I can’t wait to finish it,” Cherry enthused, waving good-bye to the friendly girl. She put all thoughts of the two rude men out of her head and concentrated on the miles ahead of her.

So many peculiar things had happened to her in the last few days. “Once I get to San Francisco I can really relax!” she thought happily.