Free Lost Cause by J.R. Ayers

and Jack looked out with satisfaction at the vista
of building tops with red shingled roofs and the white cumulus
clouds and the curve of the blue sky beyond. Though his shoulder
ached and his head throbbed, he actually felt good for the first
time in days. He watched Nurse Brewster bend over to inspect
Campbell’s wound and saw her flowing skirts with a hint of
petticoat at the hem and thought of Marie Hayes.
    “How many nurses are employed here?” he
asked.
    “Five, including me. But there are more
coming to help out.”
    “Do you know when they will get here or where
they’re coming from?”
    “Why? Have I not taken good care of you?”
    “You’ve done well. Couldn’t ask for more.
Except. . .”
    “Except what?”
    “You could have mentioned how very handsome I
am.”
     
     
    After Nurse Brewster had gone, Jack lay on
the bed and looked out the open bay door wondering when the doctor
would come. An orderly bought a fresh pitcher of water and Jack
asked about a surgeon but the man said he wasn’t privy to the staff
schedule. While Campbell slept Jack drank two cups of water and
looked out the window at the sky until his eyes grew heavy and he
went to sleep.
    An hour later Campbell and he were awakened
by an orderly bearing a food tray. He was accompanied by a small
severe woman with white hair and piercing green eyes. She said her
name was Mrs. Martha Styles, Superintendent of nurses. It was clear
from the outset she didn’t like Jack and he decided almost
immediately he didn’t much like her either. She asked too many
questions and scolded Jack for being so forward with Nurse
Brewster. “She’s to be treated with the utmost respect. Please keep
your amorous proclivities to yourself, Corporal Saylor.”
    “She told you I was being amorous?” asked
Jack.
    “She mentioned you were a bit. . .shall we
say aggressive.”
    “I’m a sick man, Mrs. Styles. I have a head
injury. In my compromised condition, I may have said some things
that were out of line. Please accept my humblest apology.”
    Mrs. Styles wasn’t sure if Jack was being
serious or mocking her. She stared down her nose at him and said,
“One of our physicians will be by to see you gentlemen as soon as
you’ve eaten. Is there anything else we can do for you in the mean
time?”
    “You can move that chamber pot a little
closer. It’s the water. Very tasty water you have here in Corpus
Christi.”
    Mrs. Styles instructed the orderly to leave
the food and fetch fresh chamber pots. Then she turned and walked
away without another word. After she’d left Nurse Brewster came
in.
    “Why were you so flippant with Mrs. Styles?”
she asked. “She only wants to see that you men receive the best
care possible.”
    “I wasn’t trying to be. But she was such a
snob.”
    “She said you were very rude.”
    “I don’t think I was. By the way, where’s
that doctor? Ya’ll do have doctors on staff don’t you?”
    “After you’ve eaten. I’ll leave you to
it.”
    “You know, my shoulder hurts a great deal. Do
you think you can help me out?” Maybe feed me some of that gruel? I
don’t think I can hold a spoon.”
    “You’re incorrigible, Corporal Saylor,” she
said. Then she hurried out of the room before he could say
more.
    Jack and Campbell ate the simple meal slowly,
Campbell favoring his shattered jaw and Jack put off by the texture
and flavor of the unseasoned bacon and grits. Afterward they sat on
the bed and took turns wondering when they were to see a surgeon.
“Good thing we’re not bleeding to death,” Jack said.
    “Guess they have more severely wounded folks
here,” Campbell offered. Most of the grits he’d put in his mouth
earlier were now deposited on his chin and the front of his bed
shirt.
    The orderly came in for the tray and Jack
suggested he fetch another shirt for Campbell. “The flies will
throw a party on him tonight if we don’t get him cleaned him up,”
Jack pontificated.
    The orderly went for the clothes and