118Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhYEWJm1kgw
Sitting up in bed, Elizabeth Talbot sneered at the doctor. The hovering nurse shrank back against the door. Fearfully, her eyes widened. Marietta Johnson previously faced irate patients. However, the military wife in room 208 eclipsed the others. Liz’s refusal of treatment sent the nurse scurrying for the doctor.
Suddenly, the hospital table containing the lunch tray went flying. A ham and cheese sandwich landed between the doctor’s feet. As though nothing out of the ordinary occurred, he bent to pick it up. Avoiding a smear of apple sauce, he righted the table and placed the sandwich on it.
“Where is my EVAC?” Liz shouted, swinging her legs over the bed’s side.
“Why don’t you lie down, Mrs. Talbot?” Dr. Maurice Culver calmly questioned. Taking a step forward, he moved in to assist her.
“Get away from me, you nig…” Liz hissed, swiftly removing her arm from the doctor’s grasp.
“There’s no need to use derisive language, Mrs. Talbot,” Maury hastily cut her off. Usually, he kept his bedside manner in check. However, his current patient tried his patience.
“I’ll have you know my husband is Lt. Col. Oliver Talbot. My father is General Thomas Amberley,” Elizabeth imperiously remarked. “My husband put an EVAC order in place for me. The only place I’m going to is OUT OF HERE.”
"You will remain quarantined, Mrs. Talbot," the doctor began again. "I have not received an order for an EVAC. I will get you out of here as soon as I do."
Doctor Maurice Culver wished for nothing better than to release Elizabeth Talbot. Since she arrived, the plague ward fell into chaos. He ordered her door kept closed to hold down the commotion she caused. The other patients under his care did not warrant her disturbances.
The light at the nurse's station signaling attention for her room blinked constantly. The trained nurses became reluctant to respond. Repeatedly, they complained about playing dodge 'em over flying objects.
The other two women Liz arrived with showed civilized manners. Allyson Michaels and Gayle Murray good-naturedly submitted to tests. Treating their nurses kindly, they became favorites amongst the staff. When Gayle contracted the plague and died, her caregivers mourned for her. Allyson Michaels received her EVAC and departed cheerfully. She promised to see her stateside physician immediately. A thorn in her doctor's side, Elizabeth Talbot, remained behind.
“You do that,” Liz hissed, folding her arms beneath her bosom. Sardonically, she stared at Dr. Culver. “And get my friends in here. I want to talk to them.”
“No can do,” the doctor flatly responded, heading toward the corridor.
"You get them in here." Liz's tone grew increasingly threatening.
"I told you 'No.'" Maurice Culver pivoted at the door. Refacing Elizabeth Talbot, he continued, "No visitors permitted."
Since Liz Talbot did not hold blood relationship with her friends, Dr. Culver withheld his information. Their health and whereabouts did not concern her. An announcement of a death and departure would create another fury. As much as he wished to rid himself of the nuisance, he remained stuck with her. Unfortunately, because of her ongoing behavior, he doubted the EVAC's arrival.
“Take me to them,” the irate patient demanded.
Deftly, Elizabeth began unhooking her IVs and leads to medical monitors. Red lights flashed to the cacophony of sirens. Swiftly, Dr. Maurice Culver sprang into action. Beckoning Nurse Johnson, they restrained their patient. Uncontrollably, Liz thrashed beneath their strong arms.
The doctor grabbed her beneath the armpits and held her. The nurse reinserted the equipment.
When the doctor’s fingers discovered the bubble beneath her arm, he swiftly stepped back. Washing his hands in the sink, he motioned for the nurse to leave. Maurice immediately followed her.
“Plague,” Doctor Culver stated to the nurse. They stood in the corridor with their backs to the door.
Marietta Johnson's eyes widened in terror. Acting quickly, they both touched the incensed patient without gloves. Applying a de-Germer, they breathed a sigh of relief. However, they were both exposed. In a matter of time, they would know if they had contracted the deadly disease.
Doctor Culver and Nurse Johnson showered and awaited their test results. Dr. Markham and Nurse Lavant replaced them and continued their rounds. Both wore protective gear, including transparent plastic pants and ponchos. Masks and shields fit snuggly over their faces. The doctor entered Liz Talbot's room; his nurse shadowed him.
“Oh, terrific, aliens invaded the earth,” Liz sarcastically remarked. “This must be a real scare-fest someone’s pulling.” She snorted when she laughed. “First the plague, then UFOs.” Under her breath, she hummed the Twilight Zone tune.
"This is no joke, Mrs. Talbot," the doctor announced. Behind him, Nurse Gracie Lavant solemnly nodded. "Plague is a serious disease."
“Yeah, right. Serious. Got it.”
“Mrs. Talbot…” Dr. Joshua Markham querulously began.
“Are you going to get me out of here?”
“No.”
"My husband, Lt. Col. Talbot, will hear about this. You're keeping me here against my will. I am the wife of a United States Army Officer. Do you understand that?" Elizabeth pronounced, elongating her words. If she carefully pronounced her words, perhaps the idiot pretending to be a doctor might comprehend. "You cannot keep me here."
“You have the plague, Mrs. Talbot.” The doctor pronounced his words as clearly. “Unless I receive other orders, you will remain here. You will be isolated. Other than your doctor and nurses, you will see no one. Am I understood?”
“No.”
Posturing herself, Liz straightened her back. Ominously, she glared at the physician. Scoffing at the word plague, she did not believe him. In her mind, she told herself she could not have the dreaded disease. Elizabeth's left fingers caressed the bubble growing on her armpit as she refolded her arms beneath her breasts. Aghast, her face paled.
118Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7BxqXpxU7a
******
118Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8IvwVDffxb
Throughout her school days, Elizabeth Amberley did not pay much attention. Her young mind flew to frivolous activities. Meeting her friends and listening to music entertained her. No one expected her to accomplish a higher education. A career never interested her. All her life, she knew she would marry an Army Officer.
Liz knew very little about the plague. Too far in the past, it did not interest her. All her fascinations lay in the here and now.
Keen on history, Oliver attempted to draw her into his hobbies. Seeking a common past time, he wished to share his enthusiasms with his wife. However, they did not share common interests. Liz, on the other hand, brushed him off.
Lt. Col. Talbot considered himself well versed in the different eras of the past. Although he and Nicola Prescott avidly discussed history, Liz presented a brick wall. She cut him short when he tried to speak about specific events to her.
“Why should it worry us, Ollie?” Liz asked. She rolled over in bed, then sat up. “Those times are gone, the people dead. It has nothing to do with us.”
Oliver often read in bed at night. The glare of the light frustrated her beauty sleep. Angrily, she yanked the book away from him.
“You can learn a lot from history,” Oliver responded, grabbing for the hardback. When she raised it as high as her arm, he knelt on the mattress. Twisting her wrist, he forced its release.
“So what?” she shrieked, tired of how he constantly ignored her. “If I’d known you were a bore, I wouldn’t have married you.”
“That makes both of us,” Ollie sneered, the words out before he caught them. He reopened his book and studied the page. Leaning in, the map of an old battleground fascinated him. His wife faded into the background.
“Humph.” Elizabeth folded her arms beneath her breasts. Snatching the book, she heaved it against the wall. It thumped, then fell to the carpeted floor. Satisfied, she marched from the room.
The Jeep Cherokee backed out of the garage. Liz humped over the wheel, an angry snarl crossing her face. The tires squealed as she slammed the gear into drive, and she hurtled through the stop sign. An oncoming car's brakes screeched to a bracing halt. Elizabeth Talbot did not notice.
Three blocks away, Gayle Murray waited for her.
The Talbots and Murrays frequently appeared at the same military installation. The two women arranged the coinciding moves. Occasionally, they had to separate. However, Liz kept looking for assignments that would bring them back together. She could not stay away from Gayle.
“Ollie’s on a tear about history again,” Liz exclaimed, bursting through the door. Flopping on the couch, she pulled her pajamaed legs under her buttocks. “Get me a drink.”
Unquestioningly, Gayle obeyed. Mixing a martini, she handed it to her lover. She sat, and Liz placed her head in her lap. They kissed and fondled.
"Much better," Elizabeth Talbot sighed, swilling her martini in one gulp. "I don't know why I put up with Oliver. He's thick. You know what I want more than he does."
“Hmmm,” Gayle absently responded.
“Let’s run away together,” Liz announced, bolting into a sitting position. “That’ll show ‘em.”
Gayle Murray continued to fondle her paramour. She much preferred women to men. However, she considered herself dutifully married. Gayle believed her relationship with Liz remained a secret. Hiding behind her marital status, she satisfied herself privately. Breaking away would announce her concealed reality to the world. Her husband and children remained her first consideration.
"We'll get divorced and go to New Orleans," Elizabeth confidently continued.
“Yeah, sure, Liz,” Gayle responded, not sure at all. Swiftly, she moved and forced her companion to sit up. “What about my husband and kids?”
“So what about them?” Liz snapped, leaping to her feet. “Think I care about mine?” She laughed derisively.
“Let’s not talk about it now, okay?”
Gayle stood and embraced her companion. Although Elizabeth dominated her, she knew how to calm her down. Soon, the two women found themselves wrapped together in the bedroom.
118Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMXJVPB2sZE
******
118Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡH9uMhzmTmz
“Gayle,” Liz whimpered.
Following the departure of Dr. Markham, the Army wife held her guard up. Then, thinking about the plague, she lost control of her emotions. Slumping in the bed, she wrapped her arms around her waist and trembled. The disease petrified her. Suddenly, she wished she had listened to Ollie's soliloquies concerning history. Wrapped up in herself, Liz dismissed the cares and concerns of the people surrounding her.
Suddenly, Liz longed for the comfort another person could bring her. Tears coursed down her cheeks. Whether Oliver or Gayle, it did not matter any longer. Anyone would do.
Undoubtedly, the EVAC would appear soon. When it arrived, Liz and Gayle would leave god-forsaken Jamaica together. Lt. Col. Oliver Talbot would not leave his wife to rot in a stinking civilian hospital. Although she treated him horrendously, he would never abandon her. She determined to leave with her paramour.
Sitting alone in her hospital bed, Liz Talbot convinced herself she would soon go home. Assured of the EVAC, she became smug. Reality slipped away. The plague throbbed, surging in her veins. Dismissing fate, she ignored the symptoms. They were not hers; they belonged to someone else. Her mind unhinged.
Straightening up, Elizabeth preened her hair. Drawing her fingers through her frosted locks, she tried to make herself look presentable. She longed for a mirror but did her best. Oliver stood beside the bed. Beckoning, he held out his hand. She reached out to grasp it. She rose as though in a dream, and his arms enfolded her. Her knight in shining armor arrived to rescue her.
Fading in and out of actuality, Ollie turned into Gayle, then Ollie again. Liz's eyes fogged. When she refocused, she discovered herself alone.
118Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0yxqPB9KUd
******
118Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4pxe7YE3Jv
Tentatively, the closed door cracked open. Marie Longstreet entered with Liz Talbot's dinner tray. At age eighteen, she volunteered at the hospital in an after-school program. Marie worked as a food server dressed in black slacks, a white shirt, and a black bow tie. She wore plastic protective gear over her clothing. Smiling warmly, she approached the bed.
Liz languidly glanced up at Marie and accepted the tray. Her overly bright eyes gazed at the contents—grilled chicken, asparagus, and mashed potatoes. She lifted the half-pint milk carton and grinned maniacally at the apple pie slice. Calmly, she unwrapped her utensils.
Marie stood back, relieved. The patient in room 208 appeared calm. She did not fear a shower of the tray's contents for the first time.
Friendly Marie enjoyed hospital work. Her plans included a nursing school in the future. Admiring Doctor Culver and Nurse Johnson, she wished to follow in their footsteps. For six months, she served meals to sick patients. Most welcomed her with smiles and small talk. The few who grouched received a warm greeting and a swift retreat. Elizabeth Talbot became the exception. In the food server's lounge, Marie complained that Liz cruelly oppressed her. However, when she entered the room this time, the atmosphere seemed different.
"My friend is joining me for dinner," Liz serenely stated. Her smile elongated. "Can you bring her tray in here?"
"Which friend?" the server questioned suspiciously. Blindly Marie backed toward the door. Her back contacted it.
“Gayle,” Liz said, grimacing broadly. “Gayle Murray. We’re waiting for an EVAC. It will be easier if we’re together.”
"G…G…Gayle Murray," Marie Longstreet stammered, perplexed.
Swiveling, she pushed the door opened and stepped into the corridor. The plastic sleeve of her protective poncho caught on the door handle, trapping her. Imprisoned, she yanked hard, tearing the garment. Then, she fled.
“Hey! What’s going on?” Elizabeth Talbot screamed after the departing server. “Where’s Gayle?”
Liz stared emptily at the closed metal door.
118Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCca0xdhp0n
******
118Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAieBDOBjXd
Marie Longstreet's chocolate face paled upon hearing the deceased woman's name. Trembling, she raced toward the nurse's station. Marietta Johnson's replacement, Gracie Levant, leaped from her seat and halted Marie. Glancing down the hallway, she noticed the food service cart sitting outside room 208.
"Bad juju, bad juju," the young Jamaican woman blubbered. Digging beneath her protective gear, her fingers wrapped around her crucifix. The chain broke, sending the food server into hysterics.
“What bad juju?” Gracie questioned.
When Marie slid to the floor, the nurse squatted beside her.
“R…R…Room, Room 208,” Marie stammered, tears streaking her face. “Bad juju.”
Determinedly, Gracie stood and strode down the corridor. Standing outside Room 208, she cracked the door. Liz Talbot sat up in bed, eating her dinner. Chattering calmly, she addressed an unseen figure sitting opposite her. She listened intently to a response, smiled, and continued to talk.
"Bad juju," Marie whispered, peeking in beneath Gracie's outstretched arm. “The ghost woman, Gayle Murray, is dead. She visits the crazy patient."
“Stop it,” Gracie cautioned Marie. “That’s enough.”
Turning, she wrapped her arms around the volunteer. Slowly, they returned to the nurse’s station. Then Nurse Levant summoned Dr. Markham.
Joshua Markham appeared within a few moments. Together, he and Nurse Levant entered Liz Talbot's room. Unobserved, they watched their patient carry on a conversation with Gayle Murray. Then, she answered for her long-time friend.
“How are you feeling, Mrs. Talbot?” Dr. Markham finally asked. Approaching the bed, he hovered over the patient.
"Fine, Doctor, just fine." Liz grinned up at him. "Has the EVAC arrived? Gayle and I remain prepared to depart at any moment."
“Not yet,” the doctor responded, playing along.
“We’ll be home soon, Gayle,” Elizabeth Talbot spoke to her unseen companion. “Then we’ll make our plans. Do you remember them, Gayle?”
"We're both getting divorced and going to New Orleans," Liz responded, imitating Gayle's voice. "We'll set up a home and stay together forever."
Nurse Levant sent a questioning look in the doctor's direction. Calmly, Joshua returned a cautioning one. Their problem patient became unhinged. She believed her fantasies.
“Should we call in a psychiatrist?” the nurse asked the doctor.
At the word psychiatrist, Liz became aware of her surroundings. Slitting her eyes, she focused on the hospital staff standing at the end of her bed. Hiking herself up, she straightened the bedclothes and her posture. Ominously, she glared at the intruders.
Calmly, Dr. Markham approached the bedside. Taking Liz's arm, he counted her pulse—rapid. Grabbing his wrist, Liz held it in a viselike grip. Markham frantically grappled with her fingers. Unable to gain traction, he pried her digits with his other hand. The grip tightened.
“Psychiatrist? You think I need a psychiatrist?” Liz bellowed, baring her gleaming white teeth. “I need an EVAC. My friend and I have waited long enough. My husband, Lt. Col. Talbot, ordered one. You’re holding it up. Get us outta here.”
As the Doctor struggled with Liz's grip, Nurse Lavant stepped in to intervene. She also failed to release the patient's fingers. The dinner tray tilted. Then, the contents slid onto the hospital bed.
Screaming insanely, Liz freed her clutching hand. Lifting a mashed potato gob, she slung it at Doctor Markham. The physician took it heavily on the forehead. The wet mess slipped into his eyes and down his cheek. Grabbing the patient by the wrists, he held her firmly.
“Restrain her,” Joshua Markham ordered Nurse Lavant.
The nurse swiftly pulled the restraining belt tight across Liz Talbot's waist. Then, she hooked the wrist and ankle belts in place.
“We’ll have to sedate her,” the doctor remarked. He regained his self-control.
Gracie prepared the syringe and handed it to the physician. He stabbed it into Liz’s upper arm and let out his pent-up breath.
“Bad juju lady,” Marie Longstreet muttered, mournfully shaking her head. She leaned in the open doorway.
118Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwUJVBRaC06
******
118Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZESb3SwNn7
While Lt. Col. Talbot continued to await final instructions from the Pentagon, the Amberley house in Hendersonville, North Carolina, stood eerily silent. Gen. Thomas Amberley sprawled across the king-sized bed. Three days previously, he died of the plague. His unconscious wife lay on the kitchen floor, her days numbered.
ns 15.158.61.12da2
