Dykes found that if he looked like he wasn’t feeling well, people didn’t make small talk with him. For those that insisted on small talk, he would mumble a yes or a no in reply to whatever they said. If they were to ask him if he was taking the elevator up or down, he would say yes. He might also say no. If he was feeling friendly, he would say okay. But mostly he could keep his fellow elevator riders from conversing with him by looking like he had the flu. Deep down he wished he was one of those people that were friendly. Cheery people that were able to make polite small talk to strangers awed and annoyed him. He was glad that there were friendly people like that in the world, but he wished they would stay the hell away from him.
A few people like Bigger and Joe had slowly become true friends to him, although he did not realize it. Everyone had found him quiet and standoffish when he first got the job in supply and after four years, they still found him to be that. Many, however, had grown to like him anyway. Some liked him because he was wry when he delivered their supplies. Others liked him because he had slept with them. The women could not not like him because he had rugged features and big brown eyes. When they ran into him in the bars, he would be drunk and funny. The men could not not like him because he had slept with a lot of women. As he stood in the elevator, staring at his feet, Dykes often wondered why people were not friendly to him.
Dykes was not going to any union meeting because he didn’t want to have to sit and talk with anyone. Especially this nurse who had never had a nice word for him until now, when she had a vested interest in getting as many people to the union meeting as possible. Since Dan had talked with a union representative in May, the union was all people were talking about. That and the ghost that was haunting the Critical Care Unit. Doctors went to the CCU in pairs and CCU nurses called in sick for their shifts. Dykes was the only person willing to deliver supplies there. He didn’t care about the ghost as long as he didn’t have to make small talk with it.
Irene, now that she had been retired, was the only housekeeper that cleaned the Critical Care Unit. Her boss, Dr. Daneeka, had waited until after he had gotten rid of Irene to find out what she did and then asked her to come back as a limited term employee so that the work she did could still get done. But of course, her position went to one of his full-time people, so the only job he could offer her was the one that no one wanted--cleaning the haunted CCU. Irene, covetous of groceries and her car insurance, faced the ghost.
The most afraid of the ghost was Bigger. “I just can’t stop thinking about him,” Bigger told Joe as they stood in the warm sunshine outside the exit nearest the kitchen so that Joe could sneak a smoke.
“About who?”
“About the ghost.”
“The one that doesn’t exist.”
“Yeah, that one. He has me really scared, Joe.”
“You’re invisible, remember? The ghost can’t see you.”
“Joe can you try to be sensible for a moment. Everyone knows the rumor got started when that elderly lady scared me. That’s why I think I might be a ghost.”
“That’s logical,” Joe said, looking at his watch. “Do you know that lady is still on the wacko ward. They’ll keep her until she goes insane.”
“Joe, I wore bright pants and gaudy shoes and no one noticed that I existed. Then I tried not to make a spectacle of myself right down to bleaching my hair so that I would blend in with the whiteness of the walls like a chameleon. Suddenly a lady I have never seen before and a bunch of staff that I have worked with for six years start screaming at me that I am a disembodied spirit.”
Joe flicked the burning ash off his cigarette with his finger and cupped the dead butt in his hand to throw away inside. He thought about saying, “What? Who’s talking to me? Is it the spirit of Christmas past?” but he hated lame jokes. “You’ve lost me, Bigger.”
“What if they’re right? I told everyone that came running to help Mrs. Annunzio that I was Bigger and not Mr. Dead Guy, but they still treated me like I was some sort of freak of nature.”
“That’s how they treat everyone.”
“But what if they are right? Maybe I am a ghost like Bruce Willis in Sixth Sense and last month was the first time I realized it.”
“Speaking of ghosts, look who’s coming.” Joe nodded towards Tim, the security guard as he came over to them. “Tim, I thought the hospital was getting rid of you security guards so that they could contract out to a company.”
Tim smiled. “They did. See this new patch. This is the company I work for now, Contract Services. They’re the ones doing security for the hospital. What a joke. They pay me an extra fifty cents and hour and bill the hospital fifteen dollars an hour to do even less than I used to.”
For a moment, Bigger saw himself in a uniform, patrolling the grounds. “Are they hiring?” he asked.
“Don’t bother applying. I mean my boss came right and told me that his bosses here at Saint Jude’s believe health care is too important in this community to have the cost of it so high that people cannot have access to it. Well, I told him I didn’t give a shit, but it turns out I do because now I work for Contract Services which keeps their expenses low by not giving me any health insurance.” Tim laughed. “But they don’t do drug testing. Do you guys want to go out to my van and get high?”
They shook their heads, but Joe punched him in his arm. “Suit yourself, guys.”
Chapter 17
Bigger the ghost waited for Dykes the disenchanted as he dropped off supplies to the Pediatric Ward. Dykes leaned on the counter at the nursing station and held out his clipboard for the nurse sitting there to sign the requisition form. She turned slightly and repositioned the phone to her ear. “You need to give the kids a bath tonight,” she said into the phone. “No, you do. Uh-huh. With a hair wash. Okay?”
She paused. “So what else is going on, honey? What are you going to have for dinner? Oh. Just a minute.” She put the phone down and reached over for a doughnut that was on her desk. “I’m back.”
Dykes sighed, gave up, and signed Mary Eddy’s name on the form. He turned to Bigger and glanced at his white hair. “Bigger, I still can’t get use to you being in uniform. How’s it going?”
“Pretty good right now, but I’ll mess it up somehow. How’s it going for you Dyke-man?”
“The usual. Terrible.”
They walked slowly down the red and gray carpet. Bigger ran his hand down the plastic-coated rail that ran down the hallway. When one of the physical therapists waved to them before jogging into his office, Bigger waved back and wondered if he should become a physical therapist. The physical therapy staff wore brightly colored jogging suits with drawstrings positioned in various locations on them. Their outfits often had a colorful stripe that started on the pullover jacket and continued on the shiny pants. All of the PTs, as they were called, wore expensive running shoes, but were never required to run. The PT that had waved often told Bigger that his work was interesting, but Bigger quickly ruled the career out because when he came home, what could he possibly slip into that would be more comfortable? “Do you like your job, Dykes?” he asked running his fingers through his white hair.
Dykes shrugged and opened the door so that they could both pass into the Nephrology Department. “I don’t mind it so much, I guess. I have nobody that keeps tabs on me and I spend most of the day just walking around. Why?”
Bigger grabbed the food cart full of dishes in this department and began pushing it. “I’m looking for an important career, but I can’t figure out in what. My dad says I should sit down and ask myself some important questions. But what should I ask myself?”
“Are you able to urinate without pain?” a nurse asked a patient as they passed the patient’s room.
“I don’t know, Bigger. What’s wrong with your job? You don’t have to talk to anyone. You just drop off the cart and go. You’re lucky. Nobody is every rude to you.”
“Hey, where is that God-damn cart going? Fucking thing always ups and leaves before w
e’re ready.”
“Oh, yeah,” Bigger yelled back. “Well, I’m not coming back until you’re done with it.” Bigger shoved the cart back to the angry nurse.
He caught up with Dykes who was waiting for him in the brightly-lit elevator lobby. “I don’t know, John. There’s nothing satisfying about my job. But you get to meet people at least. People know who you are. You are like a bartender. Your job sucks, but you’re friends with everyone.”
Dykes looked down, unable to look Bigger in the eyes. “I know no one. All of these people here are strangers to me.”
“I can name six you slept with.”
“Especially them.” Dykes kept his head down. “I picked them up because I was drunk. In the morning, there is no point in getting to know them. I mean I wouldn’t mind knowing them, probably, but after ‘Do you need a ride home?’ I run out of things to say.”
“Wow,” Bigger said, putting his hands on his hips. “That is so cool.”
“Bigger, for Christ’s sakes, you’re married.”
“Yeah, I’m on my way to being a typical married with children type. I am already in the rut of going off everyday to a job I hate and coming home to people disappointed in me. I can’t let that be all. Look at you, you are- infamous.”
“Lucky me.”
“Yeah, you got the perfect life-- except for being sick all the time. There is a rumor going around that you have cancer.”
John pushed the down button for the elevator. “No, Bigger, I wish I had your life. You have people that know you and still like you. And I am never sick. I don’t even get colds.” Dykes stepped into the elevator full of housekeepers and a construction guy with two-by-fours slung over his shoulder like he was waiting for Mr. Tally Mon to tally his banana. Dykes fell into a coughing fit.
Bigger pondered about cheating on his wife as he went back to get the cart he had left now that the nurse wasn’t around. He dreamed of sneaking around and having to avoid people. He had seen Dykes duck into a mechanical room to avoid passing a person in the hallway. Dykes said he did things like that because he was uncomfortable with passing by someone and not knowing if he should say hi or not, so Bigger knew Dykes was doing it to avoid a scene with an ex-lover or an angry boyfriend. Dykes must be a real Casanova for Bigger had watched him take a drink out of every water fountain on a floor to avoid eye contact with people walking in the other direction. All his women must adore him and want to tie him down.
His wife was the only woman Bigger had ever been with and she didn’t think much of him at all. He lusted for lust. He lusted for the excitement of being single. Then reminded himself of the glue that held his marriage together- twenty-five percent of his wages that would go to child support for the two children. And Dykes called him lucky just because she also loved him and supported him more than he deserved. Bigger decided he would just try and see some women naked. That would be enough.
Chapter 18
Joe and Bigger came into the meeting room smelling of cigarettes and sat down in the back. Mr. Seuss and the rest of the employees were already there. The new guy was in the back row putting in his earrings. The new team guider was downstairs watching the kitchen, so Ester had shut off the power to all the equipment and put the phones on hold.
Seuss stood up at the white board with a red marker in his hand. He wrote something on the board that nobody could read from the glare. “Today,” he said, “as we look forward to the grand opening of the cafeteria once the remodeling is done, we must also look back to find a means of justifying the remodeling. Many of my fellow directors are now objecting to the one million dollars I have spent. Sure the old cafeteria was clean and serviceable as a place to eat, but I really think hospital cafeterias should be an event. A cafeteria needs to have ambience and texture and a personality. Sadly, others do not see my vision. More work needs to be done. So if I am going to continue to expand my budget, which I must do, which I will do, I am going to have to find ways of cutting my budget. So at this meeting, we’re going to brainstorm new ideas on ways of adding value to our services. This is me empowering you.”
He choked for a moment.
“So we will write down all the ideas we can come up with. Let’s hear them, if you can come up with any.”
“Eliminate the director’s secretary.”
“Reduce the director’s position to part-time,” Joe called out.
“Eliminate the director’s position altogether,” Helen topped.
Seuss stood motionless at the board.
Augusta then spoke out in her slow and shaky voice. “Stop buying hundreds of damn spatulas every year. Cripes, we must have five thousand spatulas that you buy every year with left over money from our budget.”
“I think,” Delores said meekly, “that we could move to the Just-In-Time inventory management system where we order food supplies more often, but only order things we need for the coming week. That would enable us to go from two freezers to one and reduce the amount of spoilage on our perishables.”
He writes down, sell spatulas in the cafeteria. “I can work with this idea. If I stop ordering those spatulas, then they will reduce my budget by that much next year. But if I sell them, then I will in fact be generating revenue and increasing my department’s importance.”
“Who is going to buy a spatula at a hospital?” Joe yelled.
“I loved Justin Time’s last album.” Bigger was not paying attention.
“I’m desperate here. I’m having a great deal of anxiety. We will set the price of the spatulas at below cost so that they will fly off the shelves.”
Everyone stared at him blankly.
“If there is no discussion, then we can move on. Okay, the second item on my agenda is that Mr. Petty wants us to have fresh bread for the breakfast meal and I think that is a great idea. So I will need two people to volunteer to bake the bread from four to seven in the morning.”
Augusta raised her hand. “This is not some sort of deal where if I do it, then I get sent home so that you can avoid overtime.”
“Absolutely not.”
“So then I would have fifteen hours of overtime on my paycheck?”
“Absolutely not.”
“What the fuck?” Delores asked.
“I said I needed volunteers.” Seuss raised his finger. “Stay with me a moment, ladies. You too, Joe.” Bigger looked up from his daydream. “To avoid problems, to avoid layoffs, we should do this fresh bread thing. But I would get major flack if I were to start paying overtime. So, like I said, if two of you would volunteer, sick people would have fresh, healthy bread for breakfast and my department would look good and I would not have to lose any of my employees.”
Silence.
“This is a great opportunity for someone.”
Nothing.
“I’m sure baking bread would be fun?”
Scornful looks.
Then he looked at the women--all of them a broken hip away from retirement, but still he said, “It would look good on a resume.”
The ladies picked up their purses and sweaters.
“Look. This could be the start of a prestige-getter, which would lead to higher wages for the kitchen. Then I could hire higher caliber employees. Ones with college degrees and tensile strength.”
They scowled at him.
“I’ll do it,” Bigger said.
“Slap him, Joe,” Margaret said. “Stop the boy from doing this.”
Joe looked at Bigger’s whiteness from head to toe and shrugged. “I can’t.”
“Maybe, you could help him, Joe,” Seuss said.
“I won’t.”
“Someone else needs to volunteer. How about you back there, newbie?”
The new guy stopped hacky-sacking and shook his head.
“If this works out I might be able to change your position to a fte instead of a lte position.
“Yeeaah but.. nah.”
“Do you know what your lte status means? It means you have to do the same amount of work as the p
erson next to you, but he gets more pay and benefits. It means if a guy calls in sick, you have to do his work too while he gets paid sick time, while if you get sick, its just another day I don’t have to pay you. Its like I’ve singled you out to get paid less and if I feel like it I can just fire you.”
“Ok boss man. But you can’t fire anybody just because you feel like it. ”
Joe piped up. “He hired you just so that he could fire you.”
“Dude,” the newbie fired back.
“Both you guys have good points. Bigger I guess you are baking bread alone.”
“Harsh,” Bigger let out.
Bigger began to bake bread at O dark hundred. The first week, only half of the patients got fresh bread because Bigger could not make enough for the whole hospital by seven. The second week, none of the patients got fresh bread because the administrators and doctors became jealous of the patients and demanded that it be delivered to their offices.
Seuss was happy to do that. Every morning when his bosses and colleagues put something warm and yeasty to their lips, they would think of him. However, he soon found out that to justify their usurping of the manna, the rest of the directors put out a memo that berated Seuss’s system for serving food for being so slow that the patients would not gain maximum sensory benefit of the fresh bread by the time it got to them. Suddenly it felt to Seuss like Bigger was volunteering to make him look bad.
Chapter 19
Dykes tossed his keys to the floor inside his front door and dropped down on a ragged orange recliner that didn’t unrecline anymore. After a humid day, the early evening sky darkened with an impending thunderstorm. His small upstairs apartment above a dry-cleaning store was stifling, but he did not bother turning on his fan. He did not turn on any lights or the TV. He would not be making dinner. Out the window, he heard voices and he turned his head to see a couple taking a walk before a storm. The couple looked to be in their thirties, both overweight. They were holding hands and talking about something John couldn’t make out. But he liked the way the woman would laugh and pull on the man’s arm.
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