Shelley sat on the dry, brittle grass at the edge of the hospital parking lot. She raised a trembling hand to her face, the cigarette between her first two fingers wobbling towards her lips. She sniffed and blinked away tears.
It was 10:30 in the morning.
Her face ached from the mask she had been wearing, the face shield strap lines across her forehead throbbing dully. This was hour 15, and she was still two hours away from her shift ending... but she needed a break.
She watched dully as a huge pickup rolled into the lot and drove up to park some handful of spaces away from where she was sat.
A huge man stepped out of the truck and pulled up his khaki shorts, the sunburned skin of his legs shining with sweat in the quickly rising heat of the day. He looked at her and Shelly glanced back at him. No mask. No gloves. Sunglasses. Old snapback hat. Massive muscles slowly turning to fat.
He sneered, and pulled down the tank top that was struggling to hide his immense beer gut -- he didn't take his eyes away from her, expression smug, superior. She frowned and looked away, put off by his demeanor: she didn't need this shit on her first smoke break after a heartbreaking shift.
He grunted at this apparent victory and marched around to the back of the pickup stretching to reach something in the truck bed.
She saw him pull out a sign and sighed, fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose in exasperation -- no touching of the face allowed.
"Hey there!" He called over to her, using that suspiciously cheery tone of voice that all douchebags used when they were about to be a massive piece of shit to someone else.
She looked up, and took a drag from her cigarette. It wasn't worth her time.
"You some kinda nurse?" he asked.
She raised an eyebrow and looked down at her uniform, the name badge, the white piping at collar and sleeves over the pale blue fabric, the sensible navy trousers. She even had the pen in her pocket and the little over-pocket fob watch at her breast. She was practically screaming her nurse-ness at the world.
"Yeah," was all she offered him in reply.
"You look kind of old to be a nurse," he sneered, "I thought someone your age would be a doctor by now!"
She gave him the patented Blank Look, Variation 3 (Surprised at Stupid, Dealing With It).
He missed the signal.
"You people are just part of the problem," he announced, lifting his sign, "spreading your lies about masks, and this 'vi-rus' y'all keep talking about! Well, you can't step on me lady!"
He pointed at the letters on the sign and said triumphantly, "See this? It says, 'Born Free, Live Free, Die Free!' and those are the words I, uh... live by!"
He began walking towards her and she slowly stood up, watching as a few yards turned into just over three yards and he still kept coming.
"Hey, sir, you need to keep your distance -- I mean it!"
"More fuckin' LIES," the man cried, his voice going suddenly a bit shrill, "you can't tell me what to do! I'm a free man! Born free, living free and I'll damn well die free!"
Shelley - angry and afraid - lost it, hopping backwards as he advanced and driving a finger at him, her whole hand and arm tense and vibrating with outrage, "You keep on spelling, 'stupid' wrong, dickhead! You were born stupid, you're living stupid, and you'll fucking die stupid!"
The sign swung at her and she stepped back again, her shoulder bouncing off one of the thin steel poles holding up the reception area porch.
"I'm a free man! I don't take no shit from some old NURSE!"
"Then man-up, bucko. Get a mask and gloves, go home and get the fuck out of the way of the only people around who can fucking help you... because, even though I wish I could, I can't man-up for you!"
And like that, the world changed.
***
"Whiny little bitch," muttered Dion, the security guard, as he squinted out through the window at the departing pickup truck.
Shelley was stood nearby, arms crossed, matching Dion's squint as she made sure the big idiot with the sign was really going. She just nodded.
Even as the fuckwit left, the huge pickup nearly bowled over one of the male nurses, Paco, as he hurried across the parking lot for the next shift. Shelley swore, her knuckles cracking as she made a fist.
"You okay Shelley?" Dion asked after a second, turning to look down at her, his warm dark eyes worried.
"Yeah big guy, I'm ok. Thanks for stepping in... he fucking lost it," Shelley bit her lip and looked down, "and I nearly fucking lost it too. Sorry, Dion."
Dion nodded and then gave a disgusted little sniff, "Well, he hasn't just spent a double shift saving lives, so you get a pass... and anyway, I didn't know our Senior Nurse was packing guns like those!" He smiled at her, teasing, "You could have taken him down, no problem."
Shelley grinned despite herself and shook her head, holding up her arm, "With these little pipe-cleaner arms? I was just lucky he seemed to go woozy there at the end."
Dion chuckled and made a play of shadow boxing with her, drawing another smile, only to be interrupted by a squawk from his walkie-talkie. Paco opened the door and he and Dion exchanged friendly nods.
"Ah, nuts... got to go! See ya, Shelley!"
Shelley waved a cheery farewell to Dion and turned to go, giving her arms a quick rub to banish a chill as the tingling adrenalin high wore off. She still had work to-
"Looking buff, Shelley; nice work," Paco smiled and glanced down the corridor in the direction of the hospital gym, "when that place opens up again, I've got to get back to it myself!"
She smiled and shooed him off to get his shift started, before she looked down at her arms and frowned, "Huh... maybe double shifts can do a body good..." she mused as she caressed a swelling in her upper arm that felt a lot like a small, wiry-looking bicep.
***
"Hi there, is this SunnyFlex Gym?" Shelly was in her apartment, phone pressed between her shoulder and her ear as she shuffled around the kitchen in her slippers. She moved over to the stove.
There was an affirmative from the other end of the phone, and then a question.
"Shelly Hayes. With the 'e'. Yeah. 5'1". 115. Pounds, of course! I'm 55. No, but the gym at the hospital is out of use for now and I heard you had an offer for medical professionals? Yeah? Great. I'm a nurse. Oh, that's great. Exclusive? Nice."
She picked up a spatula and, still listening, split the omelette she had finished cooking into two and served up two small plates.