The Truest Pleasure by Robert Morgan Read Free Book Online Page A

Everything was going to pieces there. A patient was dying, and they was holding smelling salts or something in a bottle to his nostrils. Another patient was screaming out of his head, ‘The devil is eating my hair. Please help me, the devil is eating my hair.’ And suddenly this sick man right behind me started throwing up. He retched over his sheets and mosquito netting, and over the floor. You could tell he was too sick to care. I found a mop and bucket at the end of the ward and drew water from a faucet.Pouring in a little antiseptic I hurried back to the bed of the nauseous patient. He was throwing up again. I held a bedpan under his chin and put my left hand on his sweaty forehead. He was white as a mushroom.
    â€œAs soon as he had stopped and laid back I pulled off the soiled sheets and spread clean ones under and over him. Then I begun mopping around the bed. I was sweating in that awful heat as though under water. But the bed and floor was fresh and clean. I got hold of myself through hard work. Wasn’t anything else would get me through. I had to help out and I had to clean up what I could. I have never worked so hard before or since as on that ship. I was more than myself, and better than myself. It seemed I become the work, and was no longer me at all.
    â€œFrom the doctors and other nurses I borrowed what books I could. On my own I studied anatomy and pathology and the drugs in the dispensary, and I talked with anybody that was willing about surgery and internal medicine. That’s why I read
Science and Health
, because I wanted to read anything that was new to me. I felt I might learn from anything. I felt strong because of my work and curiosity. I could take criticism and admit my own ignorance. I was getting enough confidence to make me humble.”
    Locke paused and it was quiet around the table for a few seconds. “Once Locke starts talking he won’t stop unless you hit him over the head,” Florrie said.
    â€œI become a talker in the army,” Locke said.
    â€œYou was always a big talker,” Florrie said.
    â€œYou become a good nurse, I bet,” David said.
    â€œYou’re only as good as the job you’re doing,” Locke said. “It’s not as though you build up credit or a permanent ability. A surgeon is as good as the cutting he’s doing at the moment.”
    I could see that caught Tom’s attention. He had been listening all along, but really woke up when Locke started talking about raising yourself above yourself through work. “I guess all work is that way,” he said to Locke.
    â€œMaybe so,” Locke said. “But I know it’s true for nursing.”
    â€œIt’s a wonder you didn’t catch something yourself,” Pa said, “around all those sick people.”
    â€œHard work is the best immunity,” Locke said. “And I’m careful to wash my hands and not touch my nose or mouth when working. Of course I wouldn’t want to work around a TB clinic.”
    â€œWhen are you going to get married?” Florrie said. She took the last of the popcorn from the bowl.
    â€œWhen I find somebody that will have me,” Locke said. He helped hisself to another cookie.

CHAPTER FOUR
    Tom come back to visit again the following Saturday night. I soon learned he did not like to go out in crowds, as though he was afraid the public might steal something from him. And later I learned he did not like staying up late at night, as if the dark was evil and dangerous and the only safety was in sleep.
    He could not remember his pappy. His pappy had gone off to the war and never come back. Tom and his sister Becky and his ma had to look after the place in the hard years after the war. His ma had to plow with the horse same as a man, and get in firewood. Soon as Tom could he was helping her butcher hogs and gather corn in the wagon. When he was eleven or twelve he hired hisself out to work for Colonel Lewis over