Chapter 8: Nurse Sydney

I awoke with a start. It only took me a moment to realize where I was. The only light coming from the built-in nightlight near the head of the bed.

“I wonder what time it is?” I thought as I made the slow transition to wakefulness. Out of years of habit, I started to lift my left wrist to check my watch before I remembered the cast.

As I lay there thinking about my new life and my new abilities, I remembered something that had occurred to me while talking with Penny earlier. I realized that I needed to create some sort of memory about waking up and not remembering who I was. Something I could share if I had to. I certainly didn’t want to tell anyone that my last memory was pulling the trigger to kill myself.

I thought for a moment and then recalled waking up exactly like I had, but without any references to my previous life. I had to repeat the thought to fine tune it, and then repeat it again to make sure it was what I wanted. When I was through, I thought I had a pretty good memory I could share that didn’t mention anything about a past life.

While I was working on creating my new memory, questions kept coming to mind, but most of the answers seemed to lie with my grandmother, or in the future. The most serious one was why someone wanted me dead. And did they want Nicky dead as well?

I heard the door open and Nurse Sydney came in carrying a tray.

“Good! I see you’re awake,” she said happily.

I smiled at her. I don’t know why, but it always seemed to make me feel good to see her.

“Your sleeping through dinner is getting to be a bad habit. I just don’t know what we’re gonna do with you,” she teased. “But I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

“It’s been a busy two days. But now, I have you all to myself. You wanna run away together?” I teased back.

“I would, but I’ve already got one baby to take care of, I don’t need another one right now,” she teased me right back.

“Baby?” I asked.

“Yeah. I married a marine. He was a Captain. He didn’t make it back from Nam. He never even got to meet his son,” she replied with resignation and sadness.

For some reason, I could sense she needed to talk about it.

“Tell me about this Captain of yours,” I said gently.

For whatever reason, she began telling me her story as she fed me my dinner.

“I grew up here in Maryville. When I graduated from high school, I went to nursing school at St. Mary’s in Knoxville. While I was there, I met Kenny, who was home on leave, having just finished OCS. We really hit it off. He had this old motorcycle, and for the rest of his leave, we went everywhere on it. He used to take me riding up in the Smokies. That’s the big National Park nearby. You can see them out your window,” she told me. “Well, you can when you can get up and around.

“Anyway, we would ride his motorcycle everywhere, usually just taking a picnic lunch, and lying by the stream while we talked. One day, he kissed me and I was a goner for sure. The next thing you know, I was ditching classes and skipping work just to be with him. I still don’t know how I passed that semester. Then he was gone. He had to go back for more training in North Carolina.”

She stopped to get me some water, then continued.

“He came back when he could, and we fell deeper in love. It was great when he was home, but agony when he was gone. Let me tell you ... I was head-over-heels in love with that boy! Then one weekend, I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I jumped in my car and just started driving east on I-40. That’s the new interstate that goes to North Carolina. Anyway, I ended up at Camp Lejeune. He somehow wrangled a pass, and we spent the whole time in a small hotel room. I don’t think we even got dressed, much less left the room, the whole weekend!” she giggled.

“Sometime that weekend, he proposed to me. Of course, I said yes! I had to wait until he came back to Tennessee to tell my dad though. We were married five months later. I dropped out of school, and we moved to San Diego. We rented a little bungalow near the base and rode that motorcycle all over Southern California. I think it was the happiest time of my life.

“I found out I was pregnant about a month before he shipped out for Viet Nam. When he left, I came back to stay with dad. Kenny was killed about a month before Little Kenny was born. Prematurely. My dad thinks the shock caused me to go into labor early. Anyway, after Kenny Junior was born, I finished up school and came to work here, to be close to home.

“Kenny’s two now, almost three. And you are the first person I have ever told that story to,” she paused, the sadness filling her. Then she continued. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t feel sorry for myself. After all, I still have Little Kenny. But I realized this morning that I miss being around men,” she said. Then, at the mention of this morning, she blushed.

“That’s the first one I have touched, in that way, since Kenny,” she said so quietly I almost couldn’t hear her.

She had paused from feeding me, the fruit cup, and spoon still in her hands. She had a faraway look in her eyes, kinda like she had forgotten I was there. I didn’t know what to say or do, so I raised my fingertips to touch the back of her hand.

She was far away, riding down the coast on the back of a motorcycle, her arms tightly around the driver in front of her. Then she was laughing as someone behind her was chasing her into the surf. Then they were lying on their sides on the beach, it was dark and stars filled the sky, she was sated and content in the strong arms that wrapped around her from behind. Turning her head, she looked into his eyes, and then closing hers, she kissed him.

It took me a moment before I realized that the eyes she was looking into were mine!

I removed my fingers gently. I wasn’t sure she even knew that I had touched her.

Sydney had cranked the head of the bed to a sitting position before she started feeding me. Now, as she paused, lost in thought, I lay back slightly, studying her. She was very pretty. It was hard to judge, but I decided she was in her twenties, of medium height with a slender frame. Her hair, a dark gold color, was full, cut to come just below her shoulders and styled in a simple layer style that probably didn’t require a lot of work. But it framed her face beautifully. She had a slender face with hazel eyes that seemed to change color slightly with her mood. Her lips were full, but not too thick. I decided it was her whole face that was her most captivating feature. Especially when she smiled.

Suddenly, she opened her eyes, looking at the fruit cup and spoon still in her hands, and then at me.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me!” she said as she set them down on the tray and then ran from the room.

I just stared at her departing back. My heart was breaking for her.

About twenty minutes later, Bea came in. By now, I had figured out they were partners on the night shift.

“Are you still hungry, Michael?” she asked me as she began gathering up the tray.

“Ah ... no. Thank you,” I replied.

“Are you okay?” Bea asked softly, obviously referring to what had just happened with Sydney.

“I’m fine,” I replied again. “Uh ... how’s Sydney?”

“She’ll be okay. I sent her home,” Bea told me. She paused, then slipped into her fake cornpone lilt and began to explain.

“That girl, she done built a big ol’ wall around her heart after her husband went and got hisself killed in da war. And she ain’t never let no one in. That is, ‘til a certain, well-endowed young rogue done gone an’ slipped right by her defenses,” she said with a laugh.

“Now,” she continued, “she has to go figger out what she’n done wants ta’ do about it. And it’s ‘bout time too! It just ain’t no good for a woman to just keep on shuttin’ herself off like that.”

“I didn’t mean to...” I started.

“Now just you hush!” Bea shushed me. “She’s gonna have to work out what she wants. And when she does, she’ll be so much better off. Just give her time, Michael. She’s a good girl. She’s just a little confused.”

“I really like her, Bea,” I said. “She’s been so good to me. And I love to see her smile. It hurts to think I caused her any pain.”

“You didn’t cause it, Michael. Sometimes, it hurts to get well. I oughta know, I sees it every day. She’s been hurtin’ a long time. Ain’t nobody could get her to take the medicine,” Bea explained. “That is, until you came along. Well, you done got her started taking it, and you’re gonna see her getting better real soon.”

“Medicine?” I asked.

She had finished straightening my covers, and gathered up the tray. Reaching to turn down the lights, she finally looked at me as she said, “You, young man. You’re the medicine.”

I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t sure I understood what she meant. But before I could ask, Bea was at the door.

“Goodnight,” Bea said softly.

I thought about Sydney for a long time before I went to sleep.

I was dreaming. It was one of those fuzzy, disjointed dreams that seem so surreal when you’re dreaming, yet so real at the same time. But I knew it wasn’t real because in it, Sydney was kissing me.

“Michael?” Sydney said softly.

The only light in the room was the nightlight, but it was enough to allow me to see. Sydney was standing beside my bed, wearing a simple sundress, and holding a couple of empty bread bags and a paper sack in her hands. She looked at me with a big grin on her face.

“How would you like a shower this morning?” she asked me.

I looked at the window. It was still dark outside. Then I looked at her. She was beautiful. She had pulled back her hair with a headband, and had put on just a trace of makeup.

“Give me your hand, Michael,” she instructed. Slipping the empty bread bag over the cast on my wrist, she then taped the bag around my forearm with surgical tape. She repeated the process on my other cast.

“Now, sit up and swing your legs over the side of the bed. It’s time we got you mobile,” she told me. I was still sleepy enough to think that this was part of my dream, so I didn’t even think about questioning what she was doing. But the pain that shot through my legs the first time I put weight on them assured me this was no dream.

The pain passed as quickly as it had come. I felt a little unstable, but Sydney reached out to take my arm, steadying me. Her feelings were jumbled, but seemed to have a purpose. I was too sleepy to try to make much sense of it. I smiled at her in apology. She just ignored it as she helped me to the bathroom. After only a few steps, I began to wake up. It felt good to be up and about again. I wasn’t as bad off as I thought I’d be. In the bathroom, she had me step over the little curb in the floor that marked the boundary of the shower.

“Face the wall and put your hands up as high on the wall as you can, to balance yourself,” she said as she began to untie the strings on the back of my hospital gown.

I did as she requested. I’d wanted a shower since I woke up.

“Remember, I’m a nurse!” she added with a giggle as she removed the gown. “I’ve already seen it all!”

I heard her turn on the water, taking a moment to adjust it. Then, using the handheld sprayer, she moved the gentle spray over my entire body. Next, I felt her experienced touch as she started washing me at my ankles, then moved slowly up each leg. When she got to my butt, she teased me a little, running her fingertips from my scrotum to the base of my spine. It made me shiver, but I kept my eyes closed as I luxuriated in the feel of her caressing touch.

When her hands reached my shoulders, I heard her breathing really close to my ear. She had to be getting her clothes wet standing this close to me.

“Lean your head back and close your eyes,” she said in almost a whisper.

“That feels so good!” I groaned, as the warm water cascaded down my long hair, causing me to forget all about her wet dress.

“Keep your eyes closed, so the shampoo won’t get in them,” she said.

I actually felt cold as she pulled away to get the shampoo. Then I forgot everything else as she started to massage my scalp while she washed my hair. I had always been a sucker for anyone touching my scalp.

“Michael, can you turn around and keep your wrists away from the water?” she asked me. “You can sit on the stool if you need to.”

I didn’t think I needed the stool. I just raised my arms over my head as I turned around.

“Keep your eyes closed, while I wash your face,” Sydney said softly.

The realization that a pair of naked breasts with very hard nipples were pressed against my wet skin caused me to open my eyes, even though she had told me not to. She was smiling seductively, a look of wanton lust in her eyes. The moment she touched me, I could feel the desire burning within her, consuming her. She dropped to her knees as she began kissing my now turgid cock. Little kisses on the sides and the then the top of my glans. Then she licked the tip and slowly slid her tongue down the sensitive bottom side.

Using her hand and her mouth together, she engulfed me, licking, squeezing, caressing, until I felt my balls beginning to churn.

“I ... ugh!” I started to say before I felt myself cumming. It happened before I could get out a warning as I began to shoot cum all over her breasts and tummy. And I kept cumming as she kept stroking me. Finally, my knees buckled, and I slid down the wall to the stool.

Sydney stood, reaching over me for the sprayer, and turned on the water again. I remained seated on the stool, watching her as she rinsed my spend from her body, before she turned the shower spray on me.

“Hold out your arms,” she said as she moved closer. Because I was on the low stool, when she turned, her pussy was level with my face. I didn’t need to touch her to know what she was feeling, I could smell her arousal. So I leaned forward and ran my tongue through the fine hairs that covered her nether lips. Then I buried my face in her pussy.