Free Night Corridor by Joan Hall Hovey Page B

Caroline.
     
    Now, giving Caroline a wave, Ethel came out from behind the partition and introduced her to the others. "This is Caroline Hill," she said.
     
    Ethel had a nice smile and soft, greenish gray eyes, crinkled at the corners.
     
    The introductions were brief, a few people calling out to her, "Welcome, Caroline," no time for more. The black man, who Ethel introduced as Ron, gave her a wink and flashed a gold tooth as he set out steaming plates of food onto the stainless steel counter. Someone tossed her an apron and pointed her to the dishwasher.
     
    If she'd felt anxious before, now she was stricken with panic. At the hospital, she'd washed dishes manually. She had liked immersing her hands in the hot, sudsy water, washing and drying and putting away. She knew how to do that. Knew where everything went.
     
    As she stood there staring at the contraption, the red-haired waitress burst through the swinging doors calling out for an order of pancakes with bacon.
     
    "Don't look so scared, honey," a male voice said beside Caroline. "You'll do okay. I'm Mike Handratty, assistant cook."
     
    He'd had his back to her when Ethel introduced her, and was the only one she hadn't met. He held out his hand to her and Caroline tentatively put out her own, which was immediately swallowed up in his damp, hot grasp. She tried to smile but her face felt stiff. "I'm Caroline Hill," she said.
     
    "Yeah, we heard. Well, Caroline Hill," he said, moving toward the dishwasher, giving it a little tap on the side, "You have to let it know who's boss. Just like a woman. Ha ha."
     
    He finally let her hand go, and she resisted the urge to wipe it on her apron.
     
    She knew the 'just like a woman' comment was a joke and although she didn't see the humor in it, the stiff smile remained.
     
    Caroline took in his light brown, tight curly hair, his quick movements as he showed her how to use the dishwasher. He pointed to the shelves where she was to stack the thick, cream-colored plates and cups and saucers when they were clean. The knives, forks and spoons went in the special plastic racks in the drawers, the same as at the hospital, except those at the hospital were blue, while these were a tan color.
     
    Caroline followed his directions exactly, scraping the bits of food from the dirty dishes on the bus trays into the garbage can, then stacking them carefully into the machine, standing the plates up in their proper slots, the cups and saucers in theirs. She poured in the measured amount of liquid soap, shut the door and pressed the button he had indicated. At once, water rushed into the machine and she couldn't suppress a smile of relief at her success.
     
    The man named Mike Handratty laughed, and Caroline heard the mocking sound in the laugh, but she said nothing. "See?" he said. "You'll soon be an old pro at this, Carrie. It ain't exactly rocket science, honey."
     
    She didn't like him calling her honey, or Carrie, which was not her name, but again she said nothing. When he turned to walk away, he gave her backside a slap and she whirled around, startled, feeling the burn through her skirt. But he was already crossing the floor to the big freezer against the pale yellow wall, paying her no further attention. Seconds later he disappeared behind the partition.
     
    Caroline turned back to the dirty dishes, scraping more bits of food from them into the garbage can, her face still hot. She had not liked him touching her, but told herself he was just being friendly, a jokester kind of person.
     
    Sometimes the ward-attendants would give you a hug or call you honey, as if you were a small child, and she didn't mind mostly. They were just being nice. Which was much better then when they weren't. But he had not made her feel child-like. No, that would not describe the feeling he gave her.
     
    And no one had ever called her Carrie before either. Carrie was not her name. She was sure it was a very fine name, but it was not hers. Her name was