Cherry Ames 21 Island Nurse (21 page)

“Well, if I enjoy the peace and quiet at home so much,” Cherry challenged herself, “why don’t I stay home?

There ought to be two of me, one to go gallivanting around nursing, and one to stay home and love it.” She did care deeply for this house, and for this small town. Her grandparents, and their parents, had lived here. As she went up the long staircase Cherry touched the polished stair rail, which had heel nicks where she and Charlie used to slide down. In her own bright red-and-white room she gazed out at the garden and yard below. The lilac bush brushed her windows with bare branches, and her mother’s fl ower beds looked straggly. Perhaps she was lucky, with winter setting in, to be returning to a great city with all its activity and brilliance. And new people to get better acquainted with, like Tom Reese and Mrs. Julian.

Cherry was halfway through her packing when her mother peeked in.

“What are you smiling to yourself about?”

“Come in, Mother.” Cherry pulled the door open and offered her mother the small slipper chair.

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“I hate to see you packing. This visit has been so short.”

“Awfully good, though,” Cherry said. “We’ve talked constantly for two days and two evenings now. We had so much news to catch up on.”

“Yet in all our talking you didn’t mention any romance.”

Cherry laughed and ran her hand through her dark curls in a gesture of despair.

“All right, all right! His name is Tom Reese, he’s assistant to the store manager, and besides that, he supervises the sixth and seventh fl oors. He sort of fl oats around the store wherever he’s needed. But his offi ce is right next door to the medical department.” Cherry’s mother smiled. “Is he very nice?”

“As far as I know, yes. I know him only in the store.

Everybody there likes him. Tom Reese has been very nice and helpful to me, helping me step overnight into Ann’s job.”

“Well, it all sounds pleasant,” said Mrs. Ames. “I suppose you and he and everyone at Thomas and Parke’s will be extremely busy with the Christmas rush?”

“You’re so right. I hadn’t thought of that.” The ringing of the doorbell interrupted their conversation.

“The Pritchetts!” Cherry’s mother exclaimed. “And I haven’t even washed my face! Cherry, go downstairs and help Dad entertain them.”

Cherry always enjoyed seeing their old neighbors again. Presently the Galloways came in to join the 204
CHERRY AMES, DEPARTMENT STORE NURSE

Ames family on Thanksgiving afternoon. But the ones Cherry most wanted to see—Dr. Joseph Fortune and his daughter, Midge—had driven up to Chicago for today. However, news of them was good; Dr. Joe seemed happy in administering the Hilton Clinic, and Midge was struggling through high school in her usual harum-scarum way. So Cherry felt satisfi ed about the Fortunes.

Old friends might be the best, but as dusk came, Cherry wished the visitors would not stay much longer.

She had only an hour left before plane time. Finally, their neighbors understandingly left.

Then, with the living room cleared, and only the four Ameses occupying it, no one could think of much to say.

“Hope you have a good fl ight, Cherry.”

“I think I will, Charlie.”

A pause. Mr. Ames contributed: “The weather prediction is clear.”

“They’re not always right, though,” said Cherry’s mother. “Still, I see a star is out.” The hands of the clock went around so slowly that Cherry realized, half-ashamed, how much she longed to be on her way. To be up to her ears in nursing and people! She said good-bye lightheartedly to her family.

“Good-bye, honey, and good luck—your new job sounds intriguing,” Cherry’s mother said. “But promise me you’ll be home for Christmas! You, too, Charles.” They promised to try their best. Cherry quickly kissed her father and mother
au revoir.
Then Charlie drove her to Hilton Airport.

c h a p t e r i i

New Friends, Old Friends

cherry woke up friday morning with a slight sense of dislocation. This must be No. 9, because hunched in the other twin bed she could see Gwen’s familiar red hair and a curve of freckled cheek. Cherry had let herself in sleepily after midnight and found the apartment dark, all her fellow nurses asleep.

“I’ll bet nobody even knows I’m here this morning,” Cherry thought. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. In that case she could beat the others into the one bathroom and squeeze in a shower.

“Good morning, Cherry,” Gwen yawned. “I see you’re back again.” She leaned over and whacked Cherry on the back. “Ha-ha!
Your
back again! Get it?” Cherry groaned. “Please, not so early in the morning.

How’s your aunt? Did she stuff you with turkey?” 205

206
CHERRY AMES, DEPARTMENT STORE NURSE

“We gobbled the gobbler!” When Cherry said
ouch,
Gwen struggled to a sitting position. “Don’t blame me.

It’s that punny Betty Lane. I caught punitis from her.” Betty Lane was staying at No. 9 temporarily. She, too, had earned her R.N. at Spencer, but a year after Cherry and her friends had graduated. Therefore, Betty was only an honorary member of that august body, the Spencer Club. She was a pleasant girl, except for one thing, Cherry discovered—Betty had just beat her to the shower.

Cherry took one look at her wrist watch—she’d forgotten to turn it ahead an hour, upon returning east. Golly! No time for breakfast. She’d better hustle!

Cherry washed in haste, practically jumped into her clothes, and called:

“Gwen? Ready to walk to the subway with me?”

“Gwen just left,” Vivian called from one of the other small bedrooms. “That’s what she gets for working way out on Long Island. Bertha said to tell you hello and good-bye.”

“Mai Lee? … Oh, she’s visiting friends, isn’t she?” Cherry pulled on her coat. “ ‘Bye, kids. See you at dinner.” The remaining two, rushing for their own jobs, called mumbled good-bys to her. “Well,” Cherry thought, “I just hope the people at the department store aren’t
all
in this scrambled state.”

Cherry checked in at Thomas and Parke’s a little earlier than the crowd of employees. She walked quickly across the main fl oor toward the bank of elevators.

What a surprise! Yesterday while the store was closed,

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207

the display artists had transformed the main fl oor into a Christmas festival. Giant artifi cial snowfl akes sparkled and spun slowly overhead, while fantastic cherubim hovered high over the counters. The counters themselves were heaped with bright, plentiful new stock for the Christmas season, and there would be music as soon as the doors opened for business.

They were rushing the season, it seemed to Cherry, but all the stores now followed this calendar of merchandising. She felt a little relieved, all the same, to step out of the elevator on the sixth fl oor and fi nd that it was still November here, without any trace of decorations.

Of course there was decoration and beauty enough in the glass cases and fi ne furniture of the antiques department, where the night watchman was making the last of his rounds. The big personnel department, at the far end of this fl oor, was already bustling with activity, hiring new employees for the seasonal rush.

“Good morning, Miss Ames, good morning,” her assistant sang out as Cherry entered the medical department. “How are we this morning?”

“Oh, just fi ne, I guess, Gladys. How are you?” Gladys Green was a brand-new, young R.N., bouncing with enthusiasm. This was her fi rst job and Cherry wished Gladys were a shade less determined to do good. She had, Cherry saw, rearranged the fi rst-aid cabinet, the nursing instruments, and even, in the small partitioned room beyond, moved the two cots.

“Better, isn’t it?” Gladys said cheerfully.

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CHERRY AMES, DEPARTMENT STORE NURSE

“It’s very nice, though you’ll have to show me where you’ve put things.”

The infi rmary, like most store infi rmaries, was small and compact enough for her to be able to fi nd things. Only small emergencies were treated here; anyone seriously ill would be treated by Dr. Murphy, whose offi ce was around the corner. Absences due to illness were checked by the personnel department working together with the State Bureau of Compensa-tion. Nursing here, Cherry refl ected as she changed into white uniform and cap and white shoes, did not call on the more diffi cult nursing skills, like surgery or obstetrics, but it did place her on her own in full charge. Sound judgment about people and rapid, right decisions about health were the main requirements.

Gladys Green rose respectfully, to permit Cherry to occupy the one desk.

“Thanks, Gladys. Did you have any emergencies during the few days I was away?”

“Honestly, it was so quiet I didn’t know what to do with myself! To tell you the truth, that’s
half
the reason why I moved the equipment around.”

Cherry grinned. “May I see the daily report sheets?” Gladys gave them to her, then stood reading them solemnly over Cherry’s shoulder.

“You did very well,” Cherry said, reading: a cut fi nger; a sprained ankle; a head cold; a few other small emergencies. Then there was a woman customer who fell on the escalator, and a man in the shipping room who received a deep cut from broken glass. Nurse Green

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209

had administered fi rst aid and sent them, with a store escort, to Dr. Murphy.

“I’ll bet you I could have treated them perfectly well myself,” the young nurse said.

“I’ll bet you couldn’t. I’ll bet
I
couldn’t. Any nurse who tries to play doctor isn’t a very responsible nurse, you know.”

“That’s just what Ann Powell told me.”

“Cheer up, Gladys, we won’t have many slow periods now that Christmas shopping is starting.”

“You’re right. Listen.” The hum of many people walking and talking, the metallic click of elevator doors, telephones ringing, indicated that the store was open now to customers.

This was a good chance, Cherry said, for them to check on supplies, and put the medical department in shipshape order. And Cherry took care to praise her assistant, who was trying so hard to do a good job.

The two nurses had been working for about an hour when someone knocked on the open door. It was Tom Reese, holding by the hand a small, tear-smudged boy.

“Good morning, Miss Ames. How would you like to take care of a young fellow who got separated from his mother?”

Cherry smiled at Tom Reese who looked startingly like her, vividly dark, lively, quick-moving—like more of a twin than Charlie. Then Cherry smiled at the youngster and held out her hand.

“I was just wishing for a boy to help me count boxes.

What’s your name?”

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CHERRY AMES, DEPARTMENT STORE NURSE

“Bobby. I want my mamma.”

“Your mamma will be here in a few minutes. How high can you count, Bobby?”

The small boy stopped to think. “Twenty-fi ve. Have you got more’n twenty-fi ve boxes?”

“Well, we’d better go see. First, Miss Green, let’s help Bobby off with his heavy coat, and give him a drink of water.”

Gladys took charge of Bobby for the moment, and Cherry turned to Tom Reese. He explained that the child’s mother would quickly be located via the store’s loudspeaker system. Then he said:

“I can count to a million or so, if you’ll need another helper. Did you have a good trip home?”

“Awfully good, thank you.”

Tom Reese’s dark eyes sparkled with friendliness.

“Brace yourself for the big rush. If you need me, remember my offi ce is right next door.” As he left, Gladys looked up from washing Bobby’s face, a knowing grin on her face. Cherry pretended to pay no attention, and Bobby declared,

“That man’s nice!”

Bobby’s mother arrived soon afterward, and then a small stream of minor casualties kept Cherry and her assistant occupied. A man from the upholstery department came in holding a handkerchief over one eye.

Cherry carefully, deftly, removed the lint particle which could cause surprising pain. Then she applied a sooth-ing hot compress. “Don’t rub your eyes,” she cautioned the patient, “and don’t use eye cups. Their pressure is

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211

harmful, and they can carry infection. If your eye feels sensitive, come back and I’ll bathe it with a weak boric acid solution—using a sterilized eye dropper.” The man thanked her and said he’d learned something.

A brief lull was interrupted by a saleswoman who complained of a sore throat. Cherry checked the woman over and said, “That ‘sore throat’ looks to me like strep throat, Mrs. Crane.” Strep was infectious and everyone in this woman’s department might catch it. “I’d like you to visit Dr. Murphy at once, Mrs. Crane. I’ll phone him, and Miss Green will make out a medical pass for you to give your supervisor—”

So it went, all day Friday. Nothing crucial, but every case was important.

The next day there was no free time. Cherry and Gladys Green treated an assortment of customers and employees for minor ailments. Tom Reese poked his head in the door around noon to say:

“The main fl oor is beginning to look like a football scrimmage. Busy in here?”

“Well, I’d say we’re earning our salaries,” Cherry smiled back at him. “But I’m glad to be on a compara-tively quiet fl oor. Antiques, apparently, are too costly to attract crowds.”

“You should see the toy department. That reminds me! I’ll have some toys sent here, because you two gals are going to have
lots
more mislaid children.”

“Thank you, Mr. Reese.”

“Everybody calls me Tom.” He waved and was gone.

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CHERRY AMES, DEPARTMENT STORE NURSE

By Saturday evening Cherry was glad enough to go home to No. 9 and just sit down in the one comfortable armchair.

Only Bertha and Gwen were there, the others having gone out to a favorite restaurant around the corner.

Bertha, who was No. 9’s best and therefore chief cook, seemed rather hurt.

“Never mind,” said Cherry to the big, handsome girl who still retained the wholesome outdoor look of a farm girl. “The three of us will rustle up something better than they can buy.”