Our Duty

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A couple of months later, Sister Gregory and Stella

Zedrich were leaving a patient’s room as Aggie and Polly approached.

“Good morning, Sister,” they chimed. “Hi, Stella,” Aggie added. Polly looked away.

“Don’t good morning me with that ugly stick lip on your mouths.

You both look like sinful hussies. Get in that bathroom and clean it

off before a patient sees you. I will not have my nurses looking like

street walkers!”

“Sorry, Sister.”

“This is not your first warning, Miss Garrity. And, Miss Beat, I

expect more from the class president.”

“Yes, Sister. It won’t happen again.”

“Not until next time, anyway,” Polly sneered as they ducked into the closest restroom to remove the sinful stain. “And it’s lipstick, not stick lip! How stupid! You’d think she’d want us to look nice for patients?”

“Polly, don’t let her ruffle your feathers. In a few months we can wear all the lipstick we want.”

Polly rubbed her lips. “Great! Now I look like a baby with spaghetti sauce smeared all over her face. I need some Vaseline.” She searched a cabinet as she made room for Aggie in front of the mirror.

“Polly, I heard you’re going to a dance at Colwich Saturday night.”

“That’s the plan, Stan,” she mumbled as she rubbed her lips with Vaseline. “Gotta find out how the love story ends.”

“What about bed check? You already used this month’s late pass. Ole Hattie’s actually been checking students’ beds to make sure they aren’t just camouflaged. If you get caught, you won’t get a pass til we

graduate!”

“Shsh.” Holding a finger to her mouth, Polly jerked the door open. “What are you doing out here, Zedrich?”

“Sister wanted me to remind you both that freshmen have testing today and won’t have time to wash and sanitize the bedpans and emesis basins. Make sure you don’t forget to do them.”

“And just how many have you cleaned?”

“I’m on special IV duty with Sister Gregory.”

Aggie intervened, “Well, you’d better get back to Sister and the IVs.” She closed the door and whispered, “How long do you think she was out there?”

“I shushed you when I heard her. Can you believe she thinks it’s an honor to have special IV duty with Gorgon? She should have had that down pat since we were freshmen. What a dumb broad!”

“Don’t worry about her. But back to this weekend, how are you going to keep from being caught?”

“My sis Nonie is coming to Wichita job hunting. Hope it’s ok that I told her she could sleep in our room.” Aggie nodded and put Vaseline and tissues away as Polly continued. “I knew you had the night off, so I set everything up with Celie to let her in. So, you don’t have to worry about me, Mother.” She winked.

“Well, someone has to. I would say have fun but you always do.”

“We’re really gonna whoop it and kick it!” Laughing, she entered a patient’s room with a bright, “Good morning, Mrs. McKnight.”

That evening in the cafeteria, Polly had a thought. “Hey Aggie, that guy you’re always talking about—Cy? Isn’t he from around Colwich?”

“No, he’s from Pretty Prairie. Why do you ask?”

“Why don’t you come to the wedding dance with us?” Polly rolled her eyes with an exaggerated sigh. “Maybe have a chance to squeeze your dreamboat.”

“It’ll be fun,” Celie Carlson chimed in.

“Even if sometimes we have to dance with each other because there’s so few guys around?” Mildred Cavanaugh snickered.

“I doubt Cy’ll be there, but Mom and Dad could be, and they’d have a hissy fit if they found out I was at the dance.”

“You’re kidding?” chorused the girls.

“Daddy insists I’m in nursing school,” Aggie’s voice dropped to a male register, “to work hard and learn all about medicine. Fun can come after graduation.” Then she added, “Whose wedding is it?”

“Don’t know. But, everybody seems to know everyone in those small towns and all go to the dances to have fun and forget about the war.”

“The band was the cat’s meow last time we went,” said Eileen. “And, there were even some single guys under 50!”

“And talk about booze!” Polly almost sighed.

“Better be careful drinking with those farm boys. Their booze is probably leftover bootleg,” Aggie warned.

“Bootleg or not,” said Polly, “the last ‘short snorts’ I had from those country boys were pretty smooth. By the way, isn’t Cy one of those farm boys you’re suspecting of nasty intentions?”

“Well, he’s from Reno County where the men are much more trustworthy and gentlemanly than those in Colwich.”

“Yeah, right!” Celie giggled.

“The last dance Hay and I went to, we met some really nice guys. Didn’t we, Eileen?” Polly said.

Eileen looked up from adding catsup to her potatoes. “You met Mr. Nice Guy while I was dancing.”

Aggie asked, “Why haven’t we heard about Mr. Nice Guy before this?” Stealing bleeding potatoes from Eileen’s plate, she added, “What’d he do that’s so wonderful?”

“I didn’t really meet him, and someone has a big mouth.” Polly shot darts at Eileen. “I was outside having a drink with some couples when this nice look’n fella came over, asking for extra gas stamps and any old car tires he could borrow. I thought, Good luck, buster!”

“What in the world was he going to do? Start a black market

business?” Celie asked.

“No, Johnny—that was the guy’s name—wanted to drive his brother’s wife up to Lincoln where her hubby was graduating from flight training then heading to Europe. Johnny told everyone that all day while working in the field, he kept thinking about Ben (I’m pretty sure that was his brother’s name) and his sister-in-law. He was wishing he could get them together before Ben flew overseas.”

Comments of, “How romantic!” and “He does sound like a nice, guy!” interrupted until Aggie said, “Shsh, let Polly talk.”

“Johnny said his bald tires wouldn’t make the trip and he needed more gas stamps. He hadn’t even mentioned his plan yet to his sister-in-law until he got the stuff.”

“So, what happened?” Eileen asked.

Polly looked at her ditzy friend, “The guys started giving Johnny a couple of stamps from their billfolds, and then they left to look for tires. Dancing didn’t seem fun after that, so we hopped the last train back to Wichita. Remember?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Eileen laughed. “I forgot. All of a sudden, there were mostly just old folks around. You told me about Johnny on the way back in such a dreamy voice.” She sighed dramatically.

“I did not!”

“Well, that’s the shits!” Cavanaugh complained. “Here you tell us this romantic story, and we don’t know the end!”

Polly answered, “Well, I imagine Johnny took his sister-in-law, the way everyone was eager to help!”

“Maybe you do need to go to that dance this weekend, Polly, so we can find out about this real-life love story. Might find out more about this Johnny fella too. He sounds too sweet to be real.” Aggie’s suggestion surprised the group.

“Why isn’t he somewhere fighting like all the other great guys?

Does he have one leg? Oh! Is he a Section 8?” Cavanaugh sniggered in a girlish voice while holding her glass of water in an exaggerated feminine attitude,

Everyone gasped, “Cavanaugh!”

Even though Aggie had never met Johnny, she said, “He probably doesn’t have any problem—just one of the few farm boys the government left to feed all the fighting men and the entire nation. That’s why Cy isn’t in the military.”

“I sure wish we could get a little of the meat the farmers are raising. I’m so tired of eating potatoes, and they don’t do a thing for my girlish figure,” Eileen whined.

“Well, Miss Hay, if you worked harder, you wouldn’t have to

worry about your figure,” Polly imitated Sister Gregory, initiating more laughter.