One Hospital Nightmare

By A.P. Kasch

Something just isn't right at Battlefield Memorial Hospital. Nick Moore, a sensible middle-aged man from Eastern Texas, must admit that his best friend Jared might not be losing his marbles after all. By an eerie twist of fate, both of them end up in this same out-of-the-way hospital at the same time. Nick soon learns that Jared's irrational, terrified rants about the place don't tell the half of it.
 
The year is 2010 when Nick is checks in, but at this hospital, time doesn't seem to cooperate and the line between nightmare and reality starts to become blurry. Somehow, Nick becomes involved in a famous local Comanche Indian fight from the year 1840. As the mystery unfolds, his values are tested and keeping his sanity becomes more important than his physical healing.
 
Hospital mystery meets historical fiction in this somewhat humorous, often suspenseful PG-13 rated novella.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Andy Kasch
• Release date: Sep 11, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393590071

Book preview

Prologue

Nick stopped and stared at the reporter, who just stood there looking confused. Her film crew kept glancing over at her too, as if they were expecting her to come out in front of the camera and start talking. Apparently she couldn’t come up with anything to say about a dozen men walking through the parking lot wearing hospital gowns. If only she knew what they had just been through – assuming it had been real.

The other news crew was filming over by the tree with the broken branches, where the police were. The ambulance left the parking lot and put on its flashing lights. Nick turned and followed the other patients back into the building. Nobody was talking.

Was it because none of them wanted to admit to being crazy? Or was there now a solemn bond between them, like pallbearers in a funeral procession? The feeling throughout the group seemed to be mutual. It was like a brotherhood now, between guys who were strangers a couple of hours ago. There was no urge to say anything; instead, an unspoken form of communication was present among them. During the walk back, they had helped and waited upon each other at times, silently. None of this made any sense unless what just happened to them was in fact real, but the world would never know about it.

Nick wondered what those broken tree branches outside were all about. You don’t suppose...

Chapter 1

The fingers coming out of the wall were scary, upset his stomach, and made him squirm, Jared explained. Then there was that damned clock. The thing was evil, a tormenting device conceived in the pit of hell. Hours of uncomfortable fits would seem to pass, heck they would pass – he knew it, he lived it – but the demonic clock would show only minutes gone by. Why was it there, anyway? Some fool – or devil – had positioned it directly across from him, so that his natural gaze could do nothing but fall upon it when he was attempting to relax. A Roman torturer must have designed this room. The television was on a swivel-arm that was difficult to reach, and the screen was too close, too blurry to be able to fully enjoy, and could not be positioned to block the view of the clock or the fingers in the wall.

Nick was amused by Jared’s complaints, and just sat there listening while Jared got it all out.

The nurse came back in the room, carrying an IV bag.

Okay, she said with an Asian accent, your doctor approved the change. I have it here.

Nick figured she was Filipino, or possibly Thai. All the nurses in this hospital seemed to be Asian, but not all were easily identifiable Asian races for Nick, such as Korean or Chinese. Having dated an assortment of Asian women in his youth, he could spot the nationality of many of them, especially when they spoke. At one time, he had sort of a fetish for Asian women, but for some reason no longer found them especially attractive. Dark-haired women were certainly more beautiful than blondes in general, however, even the relatively rare real blondes.

Jared wanted to turn over in his bed, but was obviously struggling. The little nurse tried to help, unsuccessfully. Nick stood up and came to the bedside.

Thanks man, Jared said. I just want to stand up for a minute.

Are you supposed to be standing and walking this soon? Nick said, holding on to Jared’s arm and half-pulling him up.

It’s okay the nurse said.

I stood up yesterday, even. Wasn’t supposed to, but was feeling all cramped and itchy. Today, I just feel uncomfortable as all get-up and need to... Jared’s speech stopped as he grimaced in obvious pain, causing Nick and the nurse both to react by grabbing an arm and easing him back down.

Here, I have your new medicine hooked up, the nurse said, and handed him the little plastic plunger thing. He grabbed it and pushed it rapidly three times.

It was a good idea to change your pain medication, Nick said. I have heard people talk about having nightmares on morphine. Jared was relaxing now a little, finally.

It’s this whole damn place that is a nightmare, Nick. Not because of the surgery – I know I needed that. But this room, the stuff on the walls, that dead plant on the balcony, the clock ticking so loudly and slowly, it’s got me all weirded out. And can’t somebody do something about those hideous fingers!

I told you, we have to have rubber gloves in a hospital room, the nurse said. I will be back with your lunch in a little bit. She left.

It seemed like a nice enough hospital to Nick. The rooms were clean and nicely furnished. The plant on the patio wasn’t winning any horticulture awards, but it was far from dead. The doctors and nurses acted very professionally, as far as he could tell, although some of the characters Nick saw walking out in the hallway had somehow appeared strange to him - not doctors, not nurses, not orderlies, and not patients. They were probably visitors who refused to wear their visitor tags. Like that guy sporting the New York Yankees baseball cap who had almost bumped into him. Who wears Yankees gear in northeastern Texas? Of course, there was a psych ward upstairs somewhere, which may have something to do with it. Most likely, however, Nick was just being overly-critical in his people observations again, a habit he was trying to break.

Still, it was not like Jared to be so freaked out. He was kind of a tough guy, the quiet type, somebody who would not complain about a pulled muscle or a twisted ankle. His wife said he didn’t even complain about the pain in his belly until it became unbearable, and then just calmly asked to be driven to the nearest emergency room. Gallbladder pain is supposed to be one of the worst things a person can experience, from what Nick had heard.

Jared’s wife must have gotten lost to have taken him here, because there were two emergency rooms Nick could think of closer to Jared and Jill’s home than this place, Battlefield Memorial, which Nick had never been to before. Nick supposed that it was the traumatic experience of undergoing his first surgery which had broken Jared down like this. Well, that and the morphine. Nick hoped he would never have to be on morphine. Listening to Jared’s irrational ranting had convinced him to always avoid it, if at all possible.

I’ve got to get going now, Nick said. Jill is coming back soon, right?

Jared was looking calm now. He nodded, even with a half-smile, which was the first time the Jared Nick had known for 35 years looked somewhat familiar during his two-hour visit.

I am just going to leave the Sports Illustrated on your little table here, all right?

Thanks for coming, Nick. Tell Laura I said hello.

Will do. Get some sleep, buddy. Nick grabbed Jared’s untethered hand with both of his and did kind of a mini-handshake, what he figured was a proper salutation for surgery patients.

Nick picked up his cell phone from the visitor chair, stopped, and stared at the wall for a minute. He peeked over at the doorway to make sure nobody was looking, and then turned the box of rubber gloves on the wall around backwards, facing the wall, so the fingers were