1
Haunted Asylum
by Steve Carr
The soles of Grace's white shoes squeaked with every step she took on the tiled floor. The sound echoed through the long dimly lit corridor. In the middle of the night she alone ventured out of the wards and down the cold third floor hallway going from one wing to the next. Damp, frigid air seeped under the locked windows covered with iron mesh that lined the passageway between the two wings. With every breath she took she exhaled a misty cloud that didn't dissipate until moments later. Her walk was hurried, her gait slightly unsteady. Her white nurse's cap was askew.
At the elevator she stopped and pushed the button and looked above the door to watch the arrow in the semicircle floor indicator as the elevator rose from the first floor. As the bell sounded the door opened, she put her hand to her chest and felt the sticky blood oozing from around the wooden stake impaled in her. The top of her starched, white uniform was stained red. She stumbled through the open door into the dark elevator shaft.
* * *
Gavin turned onto his side and pulled the threadbare green blanket over his shoulder. Staring toward the lamp's light on the nurse's desk at the front of the ward he listened to the deep breathing, snores and coughing of the other men mostly hidden in the darkness of the ward. The screened in window above his cot rattled in the wind. A large cockroach slowly crawled from the floor and up the wall between his cot and the one next to his. Mrs. Brookings was seated at the desk, her head bent over an opened paperback. The large orderly, Jerry, was seated in a wood chair and leaning back against the door facing the ward. He had his arms crossed with his chin resting on his chest. The two of them formed the blockade between the ward and the door.
Gavin leaned toward the edge of his cot. “Psssst, Andy, are you awake?"
Andy lay on his back in the next cot with his blanket bunched up and pulled over his head. His chest and rotund stomach slowly was rising and falling.
“Andy, wake up," Gavin said. He reached out and shook the edge of Andy's cot.
Andy pulled the blanket from his face and stared wide-eyed up at the ceiling. “Is that you Mr. Whispers?"
“No, Andy, it's me, Gavin," he said. “I need to talk."
Andy looked up at the window then turned his face toward Gavin. “It's still night. Mrs. Brookings won't like it."
“We can whisper," Gavin said. “How does a person get out of here?"
Andy turned on his side. “What do you mean?"
“I don't belong in here," Gavin said. “I'm not crazy. I need to get out."
Seeing the cockroach, Andy smashed it with his pudgy hand. “I think the doctors have to say you can leave.” He wiped his hand on his pajama bottoms.
“I've been here three weeks and I haven't seen a doctor since the first day," Gavin said.
At the door, Jerry raised his head.
“It's not so bad here. It's Wednesday and they always serve lemon cookies with lunch on Wednesday, " Andy said, raising his voice excitedly.
Jerry stood up.
“Ssh, Jerry heard you," Gavin said.
Jerry walked down the aisle between the two rows of cots and stopped at the foot of Gavin's cot. He stood there for a moment and seeing that Andy and Gavin had their eyes closed he turned and went back to the door.
* * *
