Night shifts at the hospital began at 8.30pm and ends at 5.30am the next day. The hallways were noticeably silent as the evening goes deeper into the night.
By then the majority in nursing staff would have left, having taken care of their last responsibilities for the day. Around an hour to midnight, only the night shift personnel – a hospital attendant, three nurses for each hallway, and the security guards would manage the hospital.
The nurses have their own room which they shared. The hospital attendant meanwhile sat alone at the reception, a walkie talkie and a rubber truncheon for company. As well as the pantry, its fridge fully filled.
Opting to remain at the reception counter, Arman was stunned at how silent the lobby was. He was literally listening to his heart beating in synch with the ticking seconds of the wall mounted clock above him. What had been teeming with chatting bodies suddenly turned into a vast expanse of emptiness where he was the solitary human element.
Silent too were his dead mobile phone and the monitor displaying a schematic layout of the wards, both on top of the solid wood counter. He had tried charging his phone using charger found inside a drawer and yet, not a flicker of life appeared. Arman glanced at his watch and saw with dismay the hours he thought had passed were mere minutes. Doubts began to linger in his mind on whether volunteering to replace Khairuddin was such a good idea.
Kendall had voiced her concerns on him doing the night shift during their lunch together at a restaurant near the Chemor police station. She drove them both to the place. Said her heard the place has one of the best rendang north of the state. Since the restaurant didn't have the dish that day, they settled for fish head curry instead.
"Are you sure about this, Arman? It's not going to be easy for us to do these night shifts. You do realize that don't you? Long hours of doing close to nothing. That's why we have the HAs for it," she said.
"Yes, Dr. Kendall, but we need someone to slot in anyway. Unfair to expect the nurses to double up over their own duties. It's only a temporary measure until I sort out a new roster," he said. She met his eyes with hers, which hinted of a smile.
He turned his gaze down, feeling a blush on his cheeks. He has had his fair share of relationships, none of which had stuck. Yet here he was feeling like a love-struck teenager out on a first date.
"You can call me Canny, Arman," he heard her say, fingers touching his hands which he didn't withdraw.
"I think I better stick with Dr. Kendall. Seems more appropriate."
"Fine with me. But Dr. Kendall is a mouthful when we're having a friendly chat."
Another smile, her eyes gazing into his, fingers lingering longer on his hands. This time, Arman pulled away to take a napkin from the container on left side of their table.
"It should be okay. Have experienced nurses to back me up. If I need anything, I'll just holler," he said, sipping a coconut drink so sweet so refreshing.
"I supposed offering to accompany you would not be right?"
He didn't answer and gave instead a smile which he hoped said, "I'd love that, but I don't want the gossip mill to go into overdrive."
They finished their lunch and drove back to the hospital, engaging in small talks to pass the minutes. His first night shift at the hospital was going ahead after all.
Past midnight, Arman began to wonder if having her around wasn't such a bad idea after all. The lobby's cool lights, the aquarium's droning filter, and the soft humming of the central air-conditioning had joined his solitary loneliness sitting at the reception.
"It's not like you're going to do anything improper with Canny, isn't it? At least I'd have someone to talk to," he whispered to no one.
and the good doctor is a lovely companion during such lonely hours isn't she…
Arman awoke from his dreamy state and sat upright on the reception chair. His eyes darted to the lobby's corners, convinced someone was around and talking to him. Nothing.
He's in my mind again...
lovely lonely lusty woman looking for love looking for a virgin man
"Who are you?"
His voice rang in the emptiness.
you tell me ask your lovely lover doctor call her she's waiting for you I bet she's dreaming about you doing things sexy with you and loving it
He felt his breath coming stuck, forced it out hard and hoarse. His head was throbbing from an intense pressure. As though the weight of listening to thousands speaking all at once. Arman tried to blank out his mind from all thoughts to calm himself down.
nasty nasty nasty you love her company wanna do it on the counter sick nasty
"Stop, stop, stop, stop," he muttered, hands massaging his temple.
A sudden welcomed silence. Arman braced himself for another attack.
Minutes passed. Nothing. He began to recite Quranic surahs in his mind; three four times each. One after another. Calmness returning as the hospital again settled into a silent slumber.
A waft of cool air brushed across his face, and Arman thoughts again went to Kendall. A mental image of her appearing in his mind, luscious pink lips, wet with anticipation…
you so wanted so much to kiss those lips didn't you
Yes, I did. I wanted her…
Her eyes – blue, green? – gazing lovingly into his. Thin fingers moving to unbutton her white working blouse. Taut nipples pressing through the thin cotton, urging him on to caress, to fondle, to …
A sudden noise outside the building broke the lurid train of thoughts. Amran discovered himself lying prone on the reception floor. A blue wastepaper basket, half full facing him. He found it hard to breath. Something stuck inside his larynx. He coughed it out and lumbered to his feet.
"No. I will not think about her. Damn it!"
His shout echoed of the silent lobby walls.
Arman opened one of the drawers at the reception and found the MP3 players he thought he spied amidst the stationeries where he had rummaged for a phone charger. He plugged the earphones in and switched it on.
The words Maroon 5 came on. A song he neither knew nor cared playing in his ears.
The digital screen showed the batteries at less than half. He plopped the player into his shirt pocket, setting the volume at the highest he could bear. That it made thinking difficult suited Arman. He steadied his breathing patterns and tried to assemble coherent thoughts in his mind on what he was going to do next.