THE MAGIC SHOES: 10) NURSE RATCHED

Monster Monday Madness

I already have too much to process, not sure I can handle more.

But the Magic Shoes have other ideas.

Not 30 seconds later they plant me in front of an antiquarian bookseller called Tindley & Everett.

Oh, What now?!...

We go through the shop’s doorway—and most likely toward another portal.

My shoes lead me to a locked display case of rare first editions.

I got teleported to the Mad Hatter’s tea party when I picked up The Adventures of Alice in Wonderland. I’m guessing that any book I pick up will instantly unite me with whatever’s going on between the pages.

On the Road by Jack Kerouac catches my attention. But considering this unbelievable predicament, I notice another book that seems more apt.

I signal for the attention of either Mr. Tindley or Mr. Everett. “May I see one of these books?”

He silently rises, reaches for a key and comes around his desk. “Which one?”

“One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey.”

He unlocks the case, delicately plucks the hardcover from its shelf and hands it to me.

“May I sit?” I ask.

“Of course.” He points to a velvet chaise lounge. Appropriate, under the circumstances.

I plop myself down, open the book and settle my eyes upon a page… and I am not sitting on a chaise lounge in Tindley & Everett anymore.

I’m with a bunch of acutes sitting in Group moderated by Nurse Ratched at a mental hospital.

In violation of the rules, a patient named Cheswick is demanding cigarettes and refuses to sit. Ratched is trying to keep her cool but is clearly rattled by having her authority questioned. With faux calmness she calls out to the “black boys” to restrain Cheswick and take him away.

Randall McMurphy is quietly seething. He is long fed up with Group, which he refers to as “a peckin’ party.” McMurphy rises from his seat and storms over to the nurse’s station. He shatters the protective glass with a fist punch, and grabs cigarettes for Cheswick.

All hell breaks loose. The acutes scream and holler while the “black boys” scurry around, trying to restore order.

Twenty-minutes later, the din has melted into a haze of muzak.

A nurse taking rollcall sits down beside me. “Excuse me,” she says. “Are you new here?”

I nod. “Yes.” But I suddenly have a bad feeling about this. Thinking quickly, I add, “I’m a visiting psychiatrist.”

“Oh.” She pauses, all sugar and sweetness. “Visiting from where?”

I don’t answer.

“Does Doctor Spivey know you’re here?”

“Not yet,” I say.

“Or Nurse Ratched?” She now looks at me with skepticism.

I shake my head. “It’s an unplanned visit. A surprise inspection.”

“I see.” She stands and strolls to the nurse’s station.

The “black boys” are clearing shards of glass while she whispers to another nurse.

They both stare at me.

I innocently wave and smile.

One nurse goes off—and rebounds a few moments later with Nurse Ratched, who stomps right up to me. “Doctor…?”

“Smith,” I say.

“Doctor Smith.” She smiles widely. “What a pleasure it is to meet you.” She pauses. “But, if you don’t mind me asking, how did you get through our locked doors? And without registering?”

I skirt her question. “I’m on a tour of mental hospitals nationwide.”

“Really? For what purpose?”

“To ensure they meet the standards of the National Association of Mental Hospitals, for whom I work in Washington, D.C.” I try my best to sound official.

“That is very interesting, Doctor Smith.”

Nurse Ratched says nothing more but continues to look at me, expecting me to fill the silence, which I don’t.

“Have you met Doctor Spivey yet?” she finally asks.

“No, not yet. As a rule, I share my findings at the end of one of my inspections.”

“I see,” she says. “Now that we know you’re here, would you mind if I take you to see him?”

I consider this. “I was just about to look for him myself.”

“Excellent. Please follow me, Doctor Smith.” Nurse Ratched signals the black boys to accompany us.

And I realize she probably hasn’t bought my spiel.