Blood

Carol pushed the heels of her hands against her eyes and took a deep breath. It had been a long and busy clinic, the blood clinics always were. Following protocol she packed the drugs into their boxes and locked them into the medicine cupboard. She double checked the blood samples in the fridge and made sure the sharps box was sealed. These routines were important, she understood that. Finally she unzipped her uniform jacket and hung it behind the door, pulling her cardigan on in its place. The building would be empty by now, she had run late as she often did and the receptionists never stayed after 4.30. Back in the day they would have waited for her to finish but not now, she couldn’t blame them, no one thanked you for going the extra mile these days. She gathered up her paperwork; it had to be shredded before she could leave ‘rules are rules’ she said to herself. The lights were off in the corridor but a dim glow still came from the waiting room beyond. A shadow shifted in the corner, someone was still there.

“Hello” she called.

Someone coughed. Her nerves buzzed a little, she had heard about nurses being attacked in their mandatory training sessions where the many ways you can be killed as a health care worker were listed in detail; infection, fire, murder.
She entered slowly, an elderly gentleman stood by the door. His dark suit that was too large for him, his face was grey and his cheek bones pushed sharply against his papery skin casting shadowy pools where his cheeks should have been.

“Can I help” she asked taking a step back.

He smiled, not an unfriendly smile though a little unnerving as most of his teeth were missing “I missed my appointment, can you help me” his voice was barely a whisper.
He shuffled awkwardly towards her holding out a piece of paper. She took it but, finding it was blank, gave it back to him.

“When was your appointment?’ she asked trying to stay calm but also checking to see if she had a clear escape route. She didn’t.

“Yesterday, I was meant to go yesterday but somehow I missed it, can you help me?”

“Let’s see if I can” she said, feeling a splinter of pity for him, this was her job after all, to help people.

“What’s your name love?”

“Jacob, Jacob Harding”

“Wait here, I’ll check you on the system.”

She walked back into the clinic room and typed the name into the database, a message popped up ‘Patient record not found’.

“I’m sorry love, you’re not one of my patients...” The room was empty. She checked the toilets just in case and had a quick look out the window but there was no sign of him.

She thought about him that night as she relaxed into in her armchair, her usual position. The truth was she had lost interest in the job, the endless treadmill of faceless patients. She wasn’t allowed to talk to them or, more importantly, listen to them anymore. “Get them in and out as fast as possible” her boss had told her last week “Whatever you do don’t ask them how they are” but that wasn’t why she had trained as a nurse, she wanted to help people not work in a human factory. She sipped her wine knowing she would finish the bottle before the night was out. She slept the fitful sleep of the unfulfilled and dreamt of the man with the cheekbones. In the dream he held out his hand to her “Help me” he was saying “You can help me”.

She worked her way through the clinic the next morning with a thick head, going through the motions; call the number, take the blood, fill in the forms. Her voice was monotone but she couldn’t help it. At least the time went quickly when she was busy; by midday she had seen the last of the morning patients and was ready to pack up the bloods for collection. She would treat herself to something nice for lunch she decided, she’d deserved it. She jumped when she saw him standing in the doorway. It was the man from the night before, his ashen skin drawn tightly across his face.

“You scared me” she said holding her hand to her chest “What can I do for you?”

He gave her the same toothless grin he had given her the day before, this time she noticed his lips were tinged with blue.

“Are you ok? Come and sit down” She helped him into the chair

“I missed my appointment” he said again

“What were you here for love, bloods?”

He nodded “Yes, if you think that will help?”

He was a strange one alright but she knew from experience that if she let him go he might not come back and he looked like he needed help. She checked her watch, she had time.

“How did you get here love, did someone bring you?” She began rolling up the sleeve of his jacket.

“No, I’m on my own, can you help me?” His eyes, she noticed, were black, the pupil dilated right up to the edge of the iris.

“Yes, I can help you.” She flicked on the computer and typed in his name, “Jacob Harding was it?” She was good with names.

The same message popped up ‘Patient record not found’. She tried a different database; this would pick him up if he lived in the area. A new record flipped open “Found you” she said with a smile but the smile froze on her face. Across the top of his details ran a red banner PATIENT DECEASED. She chewed her lip, she didn’t want to alarm him. Clearly the record was wrong. She would take the blood first and sort it out later otherwise she would miss the lunch time collection.

“Give me your hand.”

He did as he was told and she gently pulled his arm towards her. His hand was cold with a slightly repulsive rubbery quality, his arm was heavy considering his slight build. She rubbed the crook of his elbow both to warm him up and to encourage a vein to appear but his skin remained dead white. Not about to give up she tried the other but still couldn’t locate a vein, she would have to go in and hope she found one. The needle slid into his waxy flesh and she pulled back slowly on the syringe. Nothing came out. She looked up at him to make sure he was alright, he seemed relaxed and also, she noticed, somehow fainter.

“Let’s try that again shall we?”

She took the other arm and pushed the needle in a little deeper, again she came out with nothing. The third time she tried that was no good either. Older people were often difficult to take blood from but this was unusual. She held the syringe up the light and noticed that it wasn’t exactly empty, a barely perceptible smoky mist swirled around the body of the syringe, shimmering slightly as the light caught it. She looked back at him. His eyes were closed and he looked different. He looked less solid. She shook her head, she was tired. She went back to the first hand, trying for a fourth time to extract some blood. As the syringe filled with the vapour she noticed something strange seemed to be happening to the hand she was holding. She moved forward to take a closer look and realised that his hand was translucent; her own hand was clearly visible beneath it. She dropped his hand, stood up and backed away from him, her heat racing. He did not move but looked up at her. As he sat there she could clearly make out bits of the room behind him. Not behind him, through him.

“What’s going on?” her voice trembled

“Help me” he pleaded

She tried to compose herself but kept her distance “When you say you missed your appointment what exactly do you mean?”

“I was meant to go yesterday but I didn’t make it.”

She glanced at the computer “It says here that you’re dead, that you died yesterday”.

“Yes” He smiled “But I’m still here. I missed my appointment you see”

She stared at him for a few minutes, neither of them spoke but finally she understood, he needed her help to leave, to go wherever it was that he should have gone yesterday.

She sat back down and pulled out the next syringe and the next. Little by little she released him, drew out his essence, his spirit perhaps. She didn’t know what it was, but as she filled each syringe he ebbed away until he was gone.

Carol sat in the clinic room, she was exhausted but exhilarated. Somehow it all made sense, at last she had been able to really help someone. That night, for the first time in years, she slept well.

Relaxed and happy, she pulled up to surgery the following morning expecting to find it empty, there was no clinic scheduled but the waiting room was crammed full.

“I thought we didn’t have anyone booked in this morning” she said to the girl on the front desk who shrugged.

Carol walked slowly through them, running her eyes over their faces. Each had the now familiar pallid skin, the blue tinge to the mouth, the dilated pupils.
She took out a box of syringes but didn’t bother to turn on the computer, she wouldn’t need it today. She called the first number and waited for the face to appear at the door. A nervous sallow young girl, not much more than 16, peered in.

“Come in, take a seat, let me see if I can help you” Carol took the girls frigid hand.

“Thank you” the girl whispered holding out her arm as the needle slipped into her ghastly skin “I missed my appointment”.