"Why in God's name do you want to work in a hospital for crazies?"
His late mother had asked this when Arman broke the news of his posting to the Minda Bahagia Hospital. He had grinned, hugged her. Told his mom he was doing national service. His mother shrugged her head and said then: "We aren't crazy enough for you, Ari?"
He couldn't answer her then. He didn't know why. Just that he wanted away from the typical rush hours of city living.
Arman had just finished his prayers when he heard the knock on his door. His heart skipping a beat as Sam barges in with Din who looked listless.
"Kept repeating he's losing his mind," said Sam.
As there were only two chairs in his room, Arman led them to the sofa outside the hall. All three sat down.
"What's wrong Din? Sam said you weren't making sense. Are you okay?"
Din stared at the duo before glancing towards one of the halls leading to the hospital wards.
"I don't want to work the night shift anymore."
"This is… sudden. I mean, we've done the roster and …"
"I don't care. I don't want to end up like them."
Them. The patients?
"Come on, Din. We won't end up like our patients. We're here to take care of them, remember?" said Arman.
Din sighed, quieted down before replying. The slightest of quiver in his voice.
"You know I love the night shift. The solitude is amazing and there is not that much to do. Check to see if the patients are sleeping nicely. Attend to their needs if there's any. You know a few stay up until the wee hours of the morning. I'd just knock on their doors and speak to them. Sometimes it works, more often it doesn't."
He glanced again towards the wards. Shook his head as though wanting to clear something from the cobwebs of his mind.
"Then one night I found myself in an endless walk. The hallway seems to go on and on. Too many doors. And I keep hearing hoarse voices coming from behind every door. Speaking to me. All at once."
Arman and Sam exchanged looks.
"You must think I'm crazy, don't you? I don't blame you, Arman. I think I'm losing it."
Arman placed his arm on the shoulder of older staff.
"We wouldn't be talking like this if you were. Maybe you slept at the counter and had a nightmare. Sometimes when you're tired, they seem more real," he said.
"Wasn't a nightmare! It was real. I was there, Arman! Forced myself to open one of the doors. My heart was beating so fast, my body shook."
"You opened a door? And?"
"Nothing. Patient John Doe was inside. Asleep. He's always asleep. Everything went quiet afterwards. I stepped away and I'm back in the hospital. But before it was too real, Arman. Too damn real!"
"So, it wasn't a dream?"
"I swear to you it wasn't! As I stood outside JD's room, I heard a laughter in my mind. Daring me to walk the hallway again. I bolted instead. Ran away. You ever see me running, Sam? That night I did. Even then I fear I would keep on running and not reach anywhere. But I did. I came to the reception. And sat there until morning."
"Nothing else happened?"
"No. Then you arrived. Brought me fried noodle and curry puff. I didn't eat any. Gave them to my wife."
Arman remembered the day. He had stopped at a roadside stall just after the Chemor traffic lights, the seller still unpacking. He had helped himself to what he wanted and paid. Didn't take the change.
"Shit, Din. That's some scary stuff," said Sam, finding his voice again.
"You remember the sandwich bun? Asked me if I still wanted it? Well, I remember taking a bite. It tasted weird so I left it. You saw it too, didn't you? Still nicely wrapped. Untouched."
Sam nodded to Arman. A soundless "It's true" from his slightly lips.
"What is it then? A haunting? You remember the suicide, Din?"
Nods from both men.
"Nothing. Not even on the nurse who found him. Remember?"
"I… do, Arman."
Din sighed, cupped his face.
"Maybe it is just me. Me working here for far too long."
Arman didn't reply. The long-time staff's words were the cold hard truth. Din was there from the start. Transfer after transfer abound, he was stuck at Bahagia. Why? He didn't qualify for one. And after a while, Din became comfortable with the monotony of routines.
"Maybe I just need a break. One year to go and now, suddenly, I need a break," said Din. His shoulders sagged.
The three men were still seated and silent when Dr Kendall Martin arrived. Clockwork. Routine. First Arman, then the middle-aged Caucasian administrator. They knew her arrival would be followed soon by the rest of the staff. She glanced at the seated trio. They saw the serious look on her face. Her pointing at her wristwatch before going into the pantry.
A short while later the coffee machine spring to life. Arman patted Din's back.
"I'll tell the boss you need a short break. We'll figure out the night shift. Don't worry. Can you drive home on your own?"
"Let me take him on my bike. It's only a short ride, Encik Arman. After all, Susanti would be coming in soon. Hardly anyone in the mornings anyway."
"Thanks, Sam. That would be the best. All right then, Din. Let me see to it. You go home and get some rest."
One by one, or in groups of twos and threes or more, the rest arrived. Chatting. Nurses - male and female, admin staffs. Coming in through the main door and into the lobby. Glances to Arman who stood around at the reception in place of Sam.
routines endless drivel that would one day drive all of you nuts
The thought zipped through Arman's mind so fast that he didn't have time to ponder what it meant.