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SNAFU Part 12

by Angharad

This is a work of fiction any resemblance to anyone alive or dead is unintentional.

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Sheila Brice’s car was hit in the tail causing her to spin around and be hit by a car coming from the opposite direction. She would be trapped in her car for several hours. The causer of the accident would be even less lucky, his car ricocheted off Sheila’s into the car following, turned over and was finally hit by an articulated truck killing the drivers of both vehicles and the two passengers in the old Vauxhall.
From her room in the nurse’s home Jamie heard the crash, so did the pressmen. Knowing that Sheila was due, she decided to throw caution to the wind and investigate. Throwing on a jacket she ran past the press team and out of the building. As she approached the scene of the chaos of the accident, the fire brigade was arriving with sirens and flashing lights, police and ambulances were also arriving. Casualties were in all four corners of the busy junction. The scene was surreal. In the darkness, lit by a combination of streetlights, car headlights and the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles it was hard to recognise the place let alone the vehicles.

Jamie scanned the carnage. At first, she thought Sheila must be held up by the subsequent traffic queues, then her heart sank as she saw what looked like Sheila’s car. Only it didn’t quite look like it. The back was all smashed and the front had caved in, some of the side was bashed. It was a nightmare.

Feeling guilt for having asked the woman to come out, she rushed over to the wreckage. Sheila was alive, a paramedic was with her. Jamie introduced herself as a nurse and friend of the injured driver. Giving instructions to call him if her condition changed, the paramedic went off to assist another casualty. The press team couldn’t believe their luck, two stories for the price of one. The photographer was busy snapping the scenes of mayhem, while the reporter was phoning his editor on his scoop.

Jamie simply reached in and squeezed Sheila’s hand. “Don’t worry,” she said, “they’ll have you out of here soon.”

Sheila was trapped by her legs, she didn’t think anything was broken but she had several minor cuts and bruises, including a nasty gash on her face where her airbag had inflated pushing her head against the side of the car. It may have saved her a whiplash or broken neck, but it had done little for her looks.

Jamie’s attention was snatched by the flash from the camera, the photographer had taken a picture of her comforting her friend. “You dirty low life, why don’t you piss off and do some proper work? Is there nothing to which you won’t stoop? You can forget any interview. Just piss off and leave me in peace.” The camera flashed as she shouted at them.

A policeman attending the accident overheard the rumpus and ejected the reporter and his photographer. Jamie went back to her friend.

The eventual release of the captain took more than three hours. She had been the least injured so had to wait the longest. She had no complaint with the decision of the senior fire officer. Jamie stood alongside comforting her friend until the release was started, then she just had to stand and wait. Finally, she was allowed into the ambulance with her commanding officer while it sped off to the main trauma unit a couple of miles away.

Sheila was glad of the company while she waited to be checked out by the A&E clinical team. A few hours and several X-rays later, she was discharged home, and Jamie accompanied her back in the taxi.

At no time did they discuss the reason for the original phone call, shock had knocked it out of Sheila’s mind and guilt prevented Jamie from saying anything. She helped Sheila in and settled her down for the night. On receiving assurances that she would be alright, and a promise to call her if she wasn’t, Jamie left and walked home. It was nearly four o’clock when she finally got back to her room.

The next day was a blur of tiredness, she did manage to get to school on time but it was a struggle, as was staying awake. She phoned her parents and they sent a bouquet to the injured C.O. She also called Sheila at lunchtime to see if she needed anything and was told the flowers had arrived. At teatime, she went round to see the casualty and was horrified to see her picture of the front page under the title, ‘The Roar of The Lion Woman.’ In it she was reported as shouting at the photographer, another showed the scene of the accident and Jamie leaning into Sheila’s car. That one was titled, ‘The full horror of the crash at Barbury Cross.’ Lion Woman’, Jamie Curtis, comforts one of the injured at the scene.’

When she saw the pictures and their captions, Jamie was outraged. When she read the story, she was further incensed.

Controversial nurse heroine, Jamie Curtis, last night cut short an exclusive interview with our reporter Aaron Moseley, to help at a horrific accident at Barbury Cross lights. The nurse was nick-named ‘Lion Woman’ by the press after her daring rescue of colleagues at the siege of Bennie’s Club a month ago.

She said, “It was all in a night’s work for the modern army nurse” and that due to her training she wasn’t frightened by the presence of the gunmen. Several other witnesses from that night claimed that Jamie when roused, became a real ‘lion’ and disarmed two of the gunmen single-handed, threatening to ‘eat the heart’ of the last one if he didn’t surrender. No wonder he did!

Last night we saw her in action as she calmly risked life and limb to help at the accident scene, even shouting at our team to leave in case they were in danger from exploding petrol tanks. She was reported as staying to help until the final casualty was taken to hospital. With demonstrations of courage like this, it’s no wonder she has been nominated for a bravery award. We think she should get two, exemplifying what is good amongst the local young people. Let’s see a few more follow her example.

The leader was also about the ‘courage of our local heroine’. Jamie didn’t know whether to laugh or throw up. However, on the positive side, no one had thought to check out her history. For the moment she seemed to have escaped, although she was certainly not counting her chickens, given the recent experiences she’d had, life could change in the twinkling of an eye.

“Did you see any dead people at the accident?” asked Sheila.

“Not from recent times.”

“What do you mean?” her friend was intrigued.

“The crossroads was the place of execution, so there were all sorts of strange creatures hanging around, one or two quite literally.”

“You mean you saw people hanging from gallows or gibbets? Oh, how horrible. Quite puts me off my tea.” Said a paler Sheila Brice, imagining the scene.

“No, I didn’t see anything of the sort, but it made you think for a moment.”

“You horrible nurse you, don’t come here telling tall tales, you know how gullible I am.” The bruising on Sheila’s face was becoming more obvious despite ice packs and arnica. “I wonder what they are going to say when I go back to work?” She said touching her face gingerly.

“What can they say?” Jamie cocked an eyebrow at her. “I suppose you could always tell them you were mauled by the lion woman. This imaginary creature who acts as a superhero, rescuing people from danger.” With a deadpan face, she looked Sheila straight in the eye and asked, “Do you think I should start wearing my knickers on top of my jeans, and perhaps a cape of some sort?”

Sheila’s answer was to throw a cushion with some degree of accuracy, it hit Jamie on top of the head before bouncing off and knocking over a vase of flowers. Dealing with this disaster stopped the silliness, at least for a moment.

“So where was your little lion friend in your hour of need?” asked a pensive Captain Brice. She was sat on the sofa wearing a velvet leisure suit in green.

“What do you mean?” I replied.

“I thought you were protected by this lion thing, you know past lives and all that.”

“I still don’t understand what you mean?”

“Your well being was under threat, so where was Sek whatever its name is? Aren’t you linked for all eternity to your little cat friend?”

“If you mean my dreams and experiences, then they lead me to believe that I have had past lives and that may have some bond to the goddess Sekhmet. I can’t explain it more than that. Who is to say that she didn’t cause your accident to happen, because ultimately, it seems we got a neutral outcome from the press.”

“If she did cause it to happen, how do you reconcile the fact that four people got themselves killed? Your goddess thingy is pretty callous.”

“If it were the case then life is to some extent expendable, we all come round again eventually.”

“From a nurse, I find that rather bizarre reasoning. What about the press? Did your goddess arrange that too?”

“I don’t know,” I replied.

“I’d still like to know who let them in. If ever I find out they will be in deep trouble, if they took any money then they will face a possible court-martial.” She paused for a moment, “Do you really think your goddess thingy caused my accident?”

“I don’t necessarily think any such thing, but it could be a possibility.” Did I honestly believe such things? Why not, stranger things seemed to happen and religious people all have their myths about how their gods caused certain things to happen. I suppose I didn’t actually believe it as a real cause, but it paid to keep an open mind.
As I got ready to leave, I decided to deal with my guilt. “I’m sorry that you got hurt trying to help me. I appreciate all you’ve done for me.”

“Oh, Jamie you fool.” She slapped me on the arm as I began to fill up with tears again. “I’d have done it for any of my nurses, and I was concerned to discover who ignored my orders. I’m more irritated by that than by losing my car.”

“It is a write-off then ?”

“Absolutely. The insurance assessor had a look at it this afternoon, it has no chance of repairs, so it’s a new car.”

“Oh, is that good or bad ?”

“It means I lose my no claims bonus and have to pay out an excess to activate the policy, but if I get a new car, I shall be more than happy.” This company replaces the car rather than paying out cash. I don’t care which, and I suppose it will save all the hassle of finding and test driving one if someone else does it all for me.”

“ I must go. Physiol test tomorrow.”

“Good luck with that. Thanks for coming around and thank you for your apology. That was very sweet of you.”

I could feel the blush coming so I hopped it rather quickly.

The next day after the physiology test, at which I thought I’d done quite well, I met up with a couple of friends from the course. Sharon was there as always and she was buying because I had coached her enough to pass the test. I was now collecting on my investment.

Judy, a girl I’d not got to know very well, and who had been at Bennie’s, came up to me and said. “I never got to thank you for saving us at Bennie’s.”

“I didn’t. It was the police who did.” I responded with the official line, besides I’d had enough of the whole business.

“The police were still pratting about when you made the last gunman run away. I heard you growl at him, you sounded like a real wild animal. Even I thought it was scary and you had a funny glint in your eye like it wasn’t you at all.”

“Who was I like then, if it wasn’t me?” This was getting boring.

“Like you were possessed. It was like something out of a horror film.”

“Which one, Carry on Nursing meets The Omen?” Definitely boring.

“If you can’t take this seriously, why bother?” she huffed at me.

“I won’t next time. Look all I did was improvise. I had an idea and went with it. It worked. I don’t know who was more surprised me or the gunman.” I was trying to justify myself without drawing attention to what had really happened. As this was happening, someone I’d never met before came up to me.

“Hi, you’re Jamie?” The words were spoken by a dark-haired, dark-eyed, olive-skinned woman of about twenty. She was about five foot eight and although willowy best described her, she gave me a feeling of deceptive strength. My solar plexus chakra did a flip as she stood close to me. There was something not quite right about this woman or her energies were out of alignment.

“Yes, I’m Jamie,” I replied, quickly visualising a circle of light around me and between us.

“I’m Harry.” I looked askance at her for a moment. “Harriet really, but it’s a bit of a mouthful.” I smiled a response, while thinking, stand further away, my tummy was somersaulting like a jumping bean.

She continued, “ I hear you’re into Egyptian stuff.”

Where was this leading? I asked myself. Why were her energies so strange. “Yeah, I like all sorts of history.”

“Ever seen one of these?” she asked as she passed me a small pottery lion’s head. It was probably the top of a canopic jar, you know one of the jars Egyptian embalmers used to store the dried organs of the deceased.

She practically thrust it into my hands, and I stumbled backwards into an easy chair, which luckily was unoccupied. I had never done any psychometry before. This is eliciting information about a person by holding or touching a personal possession, usually a watch or ring.

The pottery lion’s head was giving me very strange feelings, almost drawing me into it. I felt as if this was a canopic jar from my own body, from a past life. My heart was beating in my ears drowning out the sound of the music of the party. Everyone from the present time seemed to disappear, and all I could hear was my own heart and the sepulchral laughter of Harriet, who knew the effect the pottery would have upon me. This was my ‘kryptonite’ and I felt myself being drawn deeper and deeper into it.
The sense of being sucked out one’s body is not one I should recommend, it is far from pleasant. It was what I was now experiencing, like being sucked into some very powerful vacuum cleaner, which was drawing my very soul out of my body. I kept wanting to know why? It refused to tell me.

I found myself in ancient Egypt. I was giving evidence against another priestess, she had stolen valuables from our temple and had also been implicated in the murder of a sister priestess who had discovered her nefarious acts. She was found guilty and sentenced to be killed by stoning. She left screaming hatred at me and vowing to avenge herself. I saw myself sitting weeping at the outcome of the trial. I felt sad, not for the threats they were to be expected, but because I felt a sadness that one of my own kind had betrayed the trust of the goddess into whose service we were sworn. It reflected upon us all.

As I sat there lost in my revelry, I felt a shadow cast itself over me. I glanced upwards and saw Hotep, the pharaoh’s vizier. “My lord, “ I said and knelt before him.
“Rise my child.” He replied to my act of respect. He was a man of about forty, which seemed ancient to my age of about fifteen. “Why do you weep?”

“My lord, for the soul of the priestess Ishte who has betrayed both our lady Sekhmet and our sisterhood, and for the soul of the priestess Anek, who was killed attempting to protect the property of our lady.”

“I can see why you would weep for your fallen sister, especially as she died for such a noble cause. Why waste your tears on the scoundrel who caused her death, and who herself, is by now also dead?”

“We are shamed and redeemed in the eyes of our lady by the acts of these our sisters. I feel a personal shame in giving accusations against my sister.”

The vizier placed his hand on my shoulder. “You are old beyond your years my child. You have a wisdom which is given to you by The Ancients, those who built the temple of the Sphinx. You have a compassion which is fitting in your calling, although may not be shared by your mistress and which I would caution you to treasure but keep well hidden. Finally, young woman, you are possessed of a sensitivity and intuition which will lead you into many adventures, make sure you use it to protect yourself.” He stroked my face as he looked into my eyes. I felt him half pitying me and part lusting after my body. I was required to be a virgin, I intended to keep it that way. His ideas may well have been opposed to that.

He was distracted by a messenger bringing him a clay tablet, which he read and then smashed on the floor. “Clean up this mess child,” he exhorted me, then as he left he whispered, “Keep your body clean and your innocence intact. I will be back soon.” He was gone with the messenger and his entourage.

What would I do now? If it could be shown that I had been defiled I would be cast out onto the streets to live as best I could. Yet I could hardly argue with a man in such a position of power. If I did, then anything could happen and none of it would be good.
I felt myself being drawn deeper into the lion’s head. All sorts of symbolism assailed my senses. I could smell sandalwood and myrrh, and the smell of rot and decay, the stench of death and the sweetness of anointing oils. I saw myself praying at the foot of the goddess, then being dragged away by the vizier’s henchmen, screaming and begging for help from the goddess. It didn’t come.

“Hey, Jamie, Jamie gal. Wakey wakey!” I felt in the distance someone calling me and touching me. “’Ere, what’s this then?” Sharon picked the lion’s head out of my hands. “You alwight, gal?” she asked squeezing my shoulder.

It took me a couple of minutes to return to the present time. I felt the sadness and hopelessness of the girl in the Egyptian scene I had visited. I didn’t know if it was me in a past life, it could have been. It was unpleasant and I was grateful that Sharon had rescued me. Had it been a deliberate action of Harriet to thrust that object and its memories upon me, or was it a coincidence?

As the strength returned to me and helped by the stiff drink Sharon provided, I felt strong enough to stand and look around the room. There was no sign of Harriet. “Did anyone see where Harriet went?”

“Who’s Harriet?” asked Kate Henderson, who had just arrived. “You look a little peaky, you feeling okay?” she observed.

“I’ll be alright, I’ll tell you about it later.” She gave me a funny look as I said that, but didn’t push it. “How was Sheila?”

“Coming on. She still looks as if she did a few rounds with Muhammed Ali.”

“Who?” I asked.

“You have never heard of Muhammed Ali?” she said and I shook my head in reply. “That surprises me. He was a world champion heavyweight boxer who was famous for his repartee. He fought the American draft for the Vietnam war and they took his title off him. He went to court some years later and won the right to fight again and won it back. For those who like boxing, he is regarded as one of the best ever. So there are some things that our clever little madam doesn’t know then!” She smirked at me and rubbed her hands as if with glee.

As she did this I recalled something from Douglas Adams’ Hitchhiker’s Guide and recited it as I recalled it. “Here I am, brain the size of a small planet parking cars!”
“You sounded just like Marvin then.”

“It was meant to.” We both fell about laughing.

The next few days went by as normal, except for one or two disturbing dreams. They featured the plight of the young priestess in Egypt and the more I thought about it the more it like it was a past life. Kate had kept the lion’s head albeit under protest. I couldn’t bear to have it near me just in case it was what I thought it could be. Who was this Harriet character? Where had she come from and why? She bore a passing resemblance to the priestess Ishte who had been executed for her part in stealing from the temple and more importantly, the killing of the other priestess. She certainly didn’t resemble the other priestess. Was it all in my imagination? It had to be.
Nursing school was predictably boring, we did some specialist ward rounds which meant being in nursing uniform, a white top with yellow bits around it and white trousers. Because we are supposed to be military nurses, we have epaulettes and we have our names on Velcro tapes, like on fatigues. We also wear dog tags all the time.

I’d now got so used to them, the dog tags I mean, that I felt naked without them. We were supposed to wear them at all times, they carry useful info like name, date of birth, sex, pay book number, and blood group. I’m O negative, which makes me a universal donor, they can put my blood into anyone. It means I also get lumbered with giving blood regularly. In fact, we all have to, it’s about nurses setting a good example. So unless you’ve had some horrible disease like Hepatitis, it is expected.
Back to our ward round, it was very interesting but also frightening. Nominally we were doing a dermatology exercise, looking at skin conditions. We got to the last one, a young man who seemed very underweight. He had several purplish-brown lesions. I got a bad feeling about him, a cold shiver.

“Well nurses, what do you think our patient has?” asked the consultant leading the round.

Some of us were scratching more than just our heads, having been shown our first case of scabies. From behind someone asked if the colour was important in the diagnosis. The consultant nodded. “Melanoma” was shouted from behind. He shook his head.

Why I was standing in the front, I wasn’t sure, but I was. The consultant fixed me with a stare and asked, “Well, Nurse Curtis, what words of wisdom do have to contribute to this debate?”

I felt myself blushing, it was as if my ears were going to catch fire they seemed so hot. “I’m not sure sir.”

“Which must mean that you have some idea.”

“Well, it would be a long shot.”

“I don’t hear any of your colleagues saying anything better, so what is this long shot?”

“I was reading something in a book the other day about Kaposi’s…..no it can’t be that. I don’t know sir.”

“You do you know. It is Kaposi’s sarcoma. So what does that mean?”

I looked at the poor man in the bed. It meant he had HIV, and my feeling was right. He was not long for this world. He smiled at me. Despite his illness, his whole face lit up, but behind his smile, he was frightened.

“Well, Nurse Curtis, what does it mean?”

“A damaged immune system I suppose.”

“Top marks so far. Likely cause?”

“HIV infection.”

“These days it is the most likely cause, but not in this case.”

I frowned as I concentrated. What else would cause it. “Immuno-suppressants?”

“Spot on Curtis, go to the top of the class. This young man had a kidney transplant, they got a bit too generous with the immuno-suppressants and wiped out his immune system. Thanks, Sean, gets ‘em every time.”

The young man smiled back at the doctor, but I could see behind the smile. There was still a deep fear there. I felt very sad for him.

As we walked off the ward, the consultant leaned over to me and said, “Well done Curtis, you’ve got more idea than most doctors. That was pretty natty spotting.” He laughed at his own joke.

“He is going to die though isn’t he?”

“I don’t know. We had hoped we could treat the sarcomas with radiotherapy but I’m not so sure. Why do you think he’s going to die?”

“Spooky at it again? Tell him, Curtis.”

“Tell me what nurse?”

“Nothing, sir.”

He looked around at the girl who’d made the comment. “What did you mean?”

“Nothing sir, but Curtis has this knack of knowing who’s going to die. They call her ‘Spooky’ on some wards.”

“Is this true, Curtis?”

“No sir, just a coincidence.”

“But you seem to think Sean is going to die.”

“I thought he had HIV sir, so my opinion doesn’t really count for much does it?”

“I don’t know. His condition was missed by a series of doctors who should have known better, and you a first-year nurse got it near enough right. So I’m interested in how you did it.”

“One of her spirit guides, I expect,” came a voice from the back and several titters accompanied it.

He looked in the direction of the voice. “If you can’t say something sensible, please keep quiet.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone glowing very red with embarrassment. I felt no sympathy.

“It was just a feeling.”

“Well, much of doctoring is intuitive as well as the hard science which backs things up. Kaposi’s is quite rare, especially in white-skinned peoples. The usual cause is HIV or AIDS. In which case the future would not be good for Sean, and I’d lose one of my best teaching aids.” He dismissed the group but called me back.

“Curtis, was that an inspired guess or is there something going on of which I should be aware?”

One of the regular nurses was overheard saying, “Spooky Curtis? Oh that’s her is it?”

“I’m waiting. You are this precognitive person aren’t you?”

I had to think for a minute about what he’d said. “Yes sir.”

“So is Sean going to die?”

“I don’t know sir, you’re the doctor.”

“You think he is, don’t you?”

“I don’t know sir. I honestly don’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Fine sir. May I go now?”

“I suppose so. But I’d still like to know what you meant.”

“A mistake sir.”

“I hope so. I sincerely hope so.”

As I left I heard him talking to the regular nurses on the ward. “What’s this ‘Spooky’ business all about?”

“Did she say someone was going to die?” responded the nurse.

“Yes, young Sean. Why.”

“She is usually right. They had five in two weeks while she was on ITU.”

“Yeah well, it happens there. Sean is pretty stable.”

“Doctor can you come quickly, Sean seems to have been taken ill.”

“Oh hell”, he exclaimed.

Sean died the next day. His transplanted kidney failed through an undisclosed infection and he got septicaemia. I felt sick when I found out.

The following day, Dr Armstrong, the dermatologist was waiting for me. “Nurse Curtis, could I have a word please?”

Oh no, I thought. I knew what he wanted and I didn’t need any clairvoyance to do it. “Yes sir, I have a lecture in ten minutes.”

“Well let’s cut to the chase. You know that Sean died?”

“I heard, I’m sorry.” I looked at the floor.

“You knew it was going to happen, didn’t you?”

“No sir, I didn’t.”

“But you did, you asked me so.”

“I didn’t know, I just had a feeling.”

“What sort of feeling?”

“I went cold when I was standing by the bed. That’s all. How I interpret the feelings is up to me. This time, because I was thinking he had HIV, I thought he might die. I was right but not for the right reason.”

“Is that all that happened? What about the Karposi’s, where did that come from?”

“A textbook. I looked at it again last night, it described the lesions as brownish-purple. It was simply memory, nothing paranormal. The rest was pure coincidence.”

“I did some investigating in ITU. It seems that three of the five deaths that happened there, which you had predicted, were unexpected. Was that coincidence?”

“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

“Alright, I saw dead people from their families standing around them. They came to get them.”

“How did you know these visitors were dead?”

“No one else seemed able to see them, and they had a funny feeling about them.”

“Like what?”

“It felt colder than normal, or they had a funny colour about them, or the patient did. It wasn’t a trick, I just put together the information available to me. It isn’t paranormal, except that some people can’t see or feel it but that’s because they don’t want to see it.”

“What about the nurse who recovered from being brain dead and in kidney failure?”

“I had nothing to do with that except saying some prayers for her.”

“They must have been very powerful ones.”

“I believe prayer is. It’s effectively sending positive energy which has healing properties. Very simple physics.”

“Not the physics I learned, unfortunately,” he paused for a moment. “Have you told me all you can about these things?”

“Yes sir.”

“You’ve given me food for thought. Thanks for your time. May I come back to you if I need to discuss this further, perhaps over dinner.”

I blushed. “I would be happy to talk about this further, I’m not sure my boyfriend would like the dinner bit, nor would your wife sir.”

“More clairvoyance?”

“Clairvoyance simply means clear-sighted, and I could clearly see your wedding ring before you put your hand in your pocket.”

“Elementary, my dear Watson!” he said and left. I rushed off to my lecture.