The Fishing Hole

            Calvin did not, in fact, witness his first nursing home fisticuffs and to tell the truth, he couldn’t help feeling slightly disappointed.  It should be quickly added that he was mostly relieved at not having to stop a physical altercation between two brittle participants and very relieved Nurse Clementine’s attention would not be drawn to his antics.  But still a tinge of disappointment that nothing physical materialized. The confrontation played out exactly how one would think it would play out in a nursing home.  By the time Marty made his way to Gus and Calvin he had expended his energy and the only thing he could do was sit down on a chair next to the couch they sat on to catch his breath.

            Gus stood up when he saw Marty making his way to them but by the time Marty had reached the couch, Gus was already sitting down again apparently tired of standing.

            “So,” Calvin said after letting them both catch their breaths, “you two have been going at this since high school?” He asked then realizing how long ago that was he repeated and emphasized, “high school?”

            “Ha!” Marty said.  “He wishes we had been friends in high school.”

            “I don’t wish,” Gus mumbled.  “You wish.”

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The Avon Incident

            Marty smiled from his bed as Calvin tested the cushion on the chair to make sure it was firm before sitting down. “I’ve fallen for that trick before,” he said sitting down when he was satisfied he would not sink to the floor.

            Marty chuckled, “That was a good one.”

            Calvin nodded his head.  If he hadn’t been the one to sink to the floor after sitting on Marty’s chair on more than one occasion, he probably would have agreed more heartily.

            “Well,” Marty said.  “As usual, the Doofus next door left out a few key details in his story.”

            “How did you even hear him talking?” Calvin asked.  He strained to hear any other sound besides Marty’s television set at a rather loud volume and the noise from out in the hall.  There was no possible way Marty could have heard the conversation that had taken place next door.  At least, no natural possible way.

            “Eh?” Marty asked.

            “Oh, that you can’t hear but you could hear your neighbor next door telling a story?” Calvin asked.  Maybe the two men weren’t as paranoid as everyone believed.  Maybe they had been busy spying on each other.  He shook his head not wanting to spend time drifting on any tangents.  “Are you going to tell me your side of the story?  Because it doesn’t really need explaining.  I get it. You were a teacher trying to teach.  Seems simple enough.”

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The Student

            “You were best friends?” Calvin asked unsure if Gus was setting up a punchline for a joke.

            Gus merely nodded and squinted his eyes.  “Can you believe it?”

            Judging from the way the two had acted since their arrivals, Calvin could honestly say he did not.

            “Let’s just say,” Gus smiled, “there isn’t as much criteria for a ten-year old.” He folded his arms, “that comes later,” he thought about it, “with experience.”  He folded his arms and leaned back in the chair clearly proud at his wisdom.

            Calvin shrugged.  That sounded fairly logical.  He could hear Nurse Clementine’s voice from her post at the desk down the hall and leaned forward.  “So, what happened?” he asked wanting to get to the bottom of this feud before she discovered him doing what she referred to as “unnecessary hovering”.

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The Nursing Home

              “Have you checked on room 1211?” Nurse Clementine asked without looking up from the clipboard she was studying.  As always, her readers rested on the bottom of her nose but never slipped off the tip. A feat that always impressed Calvin just a little bit.  He rolled his eyes at her request but tried to cover his initial reaction by answering quickly, “No ma’am.”  Even though the older nurse wasn’t looking he knew she still could sense his attitude by the way she her lips pushed together.  When he still didn’t move, she looked up and cocked an eyebrow at him.  That was worse than a lecture or a verbal lesson any day.  That was her way of saying, ‘best get on it’ combined with ‘don’t make me tell you again.’

            He suppressed the urge to sigh and stood up. “Right on it,” he said forcing any bitterness from his voice.  Nurse Clementine ran a tight shift and the last thing he wanted was to get on her bad side which was so easy for him to do.  She had been a night nurse supervisor at the nursing home longer than the current manager had been alive and was granted some allowances managing the staff other supervisors didn’t get.  She was the default superior that everyone looked to including the manager although that was done discretely.  If her word got back to management about any unruly staff that staff usually was gone by the next shift.  “There is no room here for bad nurses,” Nurse Clementine often said.  

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