Read By My Hands for Free Online Page B

her hand. Priscilla marched through the
lobby and turned left down the first hall she saw, looking every
bit the busy executive or doctor.
    Priscilla’s luck held: the hall led to a bank of
elevators. One of the doors was opening and several people exited.
Quickly she stepped into the empty compartment and then realized
that she didn’t know where the burn ward was located. Well, the
best way to find the top is to start at the bottom. She pushed
the button marked B.
    The elevator groaned as its hydraulic piston slowly
lowered the compartment. A moment later the doors opened, and
Priscilla stepped out of the lift. She was standing in a wide hall
with pale green walls and a large placard with the words RECORD
STORAGE and an arrow pointing to her left, and two other lines:
MORGUE and BURN WARD with arrows pointing to her right. The first
line and arrow were printed in green, the morgue in blue and the
words BURN WARD in yellow. Looking at the floor she saw three lines
painted each in its own color: green, blue, and yellow.
    “At least I won’t need a compass.” As she followed
the yellow line on the highly polished floor, her footsteps echoed
off the plaster walls making her feel uncomfortable. She felt as
though she were walking down hallowed halls forbidden to the
uninitiated.
    The corridor led to a T intersection and Priscilla
followed the yellow line to the left, into a new corridor filled
with office doors that bore engraved signs: Dr. J. Mendoza, Dr.
R.S. Ailes, Shift Nurse, Lounge. It was, however, the double doors
at the end of the hall that interested Priscilla. They were painted
a yellow that matched the line on the floor and had a sign with a
red background and white letters: ADMITTANCE RESTRICTED. ALL GUESTS
MUST DIAL 011 TO SPEAK TO A NURSE. On the wall next to the doors
was a white phone.
    Priscilla’s luck was running out. She had hoped to
be able to walk in, find Lisa Hailey and, if the story was
verified, call for a camera crew. She was counting on the element
of surprise. Now she was left with a decision: She could call the
nursing station and ask for permission to speak to Lisa, or simply
walk in. Maybe if she just strolled in with an air of confidence,
no one would pay attention to her. If she asked permission first,
they might not only refuse her admission, but might also refuse to
speak to her. That would force her to go through administration
and, if they were keeping a wrap on the story, she would be left
empty-handed. I’m not going back to Irwin without a story, not
after the fuss I made .
    Just then one of the doors swung open and a young
man in a white lab coat walked through, his head down and his gaze
fixed on the metal clipboard he held. Priscilla quickly reached for
the phone and averted her eyes. She didn’t want to answer
questions, not yet. She needn’t have worried; if the man saw her,
he gave no indication of it. Priscilla watched him walk down the
hall and entered one of the office doors.
    It was then that she decided to act. Before the door
could close, she stepped through.
    The room was large and, unlike the corridor outside,
was painted in cheerful colors of blue, yellow, and green. In the
center of the room was the nursing station, marked off by a counter
that formed a circle in the middle of the room. Two nurses sat
behind the counter. Around the perimeter of the room were cubicles
with glass fronts through which Priscilla could see people lying in
bed. Instead of doors, each little room had curtains, all of which
had been drawn back. Priscilla estimated that there were about ten
cubicles; only four had patients, and Priscilla could see them
clearly. One was a little boy about ten years old whose left arm
was heavily bandaged. The patient in the next cubicle was under a
sheet that was suspended over supports so that it didn’t touch the
skin. The occupant of the third cubicle was in a crib. In the
fourth, a young woman in a hospital gown was smiling and chatting
with a man and