The scars on his face were extensive, but had long ago healed. Kelly couldn’t help wondering what had caused them as she observed him from across the room while waiting for the other patients to arrive.

It was Monday morning and busy as usual after the influx of patients that had arrived over the weekend. Kelly had been in charge of the crafts group on the locked psychiatric ward at St. James hospital for the past six months and, though she had seen many of the patients return time and time again, she had never seen this man in the ward before.

He sat alone at the table farthest from the door, in the corner where the windows met. The sunlight slanted through the window bars and added to the lines already etched on his face. His skin was tanned reddish brown and his shoulder length straight hair shone like polished onyx. His eyes were down cast so Kelly couldn’t see their color, but she felt certain they would be just as black.

A small white haired woman bounding into the room and shouting cheerfully, “Kelly! I missed you, where have you been?” pulled Kelly from her speculations.  It was Clara, one of the wards frequent residents. She was a schizophrenic, almost seventy years old, and had recently been diagnosed with the beginning stages of Alzheimer’s. Her roommate, Rita, was close behind her, repeating everything Clara said with just as much enthusiasm. Rita was sixty years old, mildly mentally retarded, and also schizophrenic. The two kept Kelly hopping whenever they were in the group.

“Okay everyone, take your seats and let’s get started. For those of you that have projects started already, I will bring yours to your table. If you don’t have one in progress, you may come up to the cart and look through what we have to offer,” Kelly announced.

“I need my project now!” piped Clara.

“I need my project now!” chimed Rita.

Rather than trying to hand things out in an orderly fashion Kelly obliged them. In the long run she knew it would be to her advantage. Clara and Rita were easier to keep out of trouble if they had a task to work on.

With things under way Kelly noticed that the man with the scars was still sitting at the corner table alone. He had not heeded her invitation to come up to the craft cart and look through the items. She moved the cart in his direction then checked the "new patient" list for his name and diagnosis.

The only unfamiliar name on her list was Jonathan Davis, age 38, a suicide attempt using prescription medications and alcohol. Well, nothing so unusual. No special warnings next to his name. She decided on a direct approach.

“Hello, Jonathan. My name is Kelly and I’m the recreation therapist. Would you like to take a look at the cart and pick a project to start out with?” she asked. He made no response; none at all. He didn’t seem to notice she was there. “Jonathan?” Kelly repeated. “ I could suggest something simple to start with, or you could tell me a little bit about what kind of hobbies you have and we could take it from there,” she offered.

Jonathan still did not look up, but he sighed softly. Kelly waited for him to speak. When he didn’t, she took a wood project from the cart and set it on the table. He looked at it, and then glanced at her surreptitiously.

“This is a pre-cut wood kit.  All you have to do is sand the pieces, stain or paint them then assemble them and you’ve got a nice magazine rack. You get to take it home with you when you go.”

“I don’t have a home!” he hissed. “Do you have a pre-cut house in there?” he said sarcastically.

Kelly, trying to diffuse the situation with a little humor, replied, “ We might have a precut bird house, but that's probably not what you had in mind, huh?” she smiled.

Kelly held her breath waiting for Jonathan’s reaction. When it came it was a barely noticeable upturning at the corners of his mouth. She had made him want to smile. Score two points for Kelly and her psychology major.

Jonathan took the sandpaper out of the package and began to sand the pieces of wood without saying a word. Kelly moved the cart back to the front of the room then sat down to make observations of the patients.

Ben was putting a final waxing on the leather-tooled belt he had made. He had a collection of belts from what Kelly had heard. He made one before the end of every stay and this was his sixth stay in four years.

Ben had been on the ward when Kelly was doing her student internship and had taught her a lesson she would never forget. She was still very wary of being alone with him. As a result of that event she would never again be comfortable having anyone behind her. She always made sure to get to doors first so she could hold them open and be the last to enter.  It probably made some of her dates a little uncomfortable, but she didn’t care.

**********************************************************
Jonathan slowly and methodically sanded the wooden slat in his hand until he could feel the heat from the friction on his fingertips. He continued until it became slightly painful. Pain was good; at least it was something. He hadn’t been able to feel anything for what seemed like forever. Even when he had slit his wrists two months ago, and watched the blood trickle onto the floor, it was as if the pain was dull and far away.

He watched Kelly as she worked with two old women at the table near the door. The shorter one was trying to choose a paint color for her project, which appeared to be a lopsided box of some sort. The other one was taking paint bottles off the cart and holding them up for approval. The shorter one was becoming agitated and her voice was becoming shrill. Jonathan was beginning to itch all over, deep within his skin. The more the woman rambled, the more he felt the crawling under his skin.

The board in his hand suddenly snapped, showering splinters into his lap. He had been gripping it tensely without realizing it. He slammed his fist onto the table, tried to stand and tipped his chair over in the process. At once Kelly was beside him, then he was heading out the door into the hallway. “Jonathan?” she called behind him.

“Let him go, it’s all right,” he heard another woman say.

He reached his room but the door was locked. He pounded on the door once, and then continued down the hall, feeling safer the farther he got from the activity room. He stopped at the end of the hall at the entrance to the deserted patient lounge. He could feel his heart rate slowing to normal again even as he heard the footsteps behind him.

“Jonathan, I unlocked your door. It’s okay, you can go to your room now,” Karen, his nurse said from a few feet away. “I’ll let you have a few minutes to yourself, then I’ll be in to check on you. If you need me sooner, push the call button, okay?”

He nodded, but didn’t speak. He waited until he heard her footsteps recede before he turned around. He knew that if he went to his room they would be watching him on the monitor during his “time to himself”. He went into the lounge instead.

**********************************************************

Kelly stopped at the door to the activity room and watched Karen follow Jonathan down the hall. Karen was the R.N. on shift and could handle just about anything. Kelly would talk to her after the group ended to make sure everything was all right, and to get the scoop on Jonathan – the stuff that wouldn’t show up in a patient chart.

It had only been a few seconds, but when she turned back to the room everything had fallen to pieces. Rita had given Clara most of the bottles of paint from the cart, and Clara was happily splashing paint all over her project, the table, chairs and floor.

“Clara! What are you doing?” Kelly snapped.

Clara froze. Her lip began to quiver and then she burst into tears. “Oh, God,” Kelly muttered and tried to smile. “Oh, Clara. I’m sorry, it’s okay,” she cooed.

Rita put her arm protectively around Clara’s shoulder as Kelly moved closer.

“ No!” Rita shouted. “You make her cry, leave my friend alone!”

Clara clung to Rita and Kelly raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, I’ll be over here,” Kelly said, stepping back.

She couldn’t believe she had reacted that way. What was wrong with her? Was she beginning to burn out on this job? She was normally so patient with Clara and Rita. It was no wonder Clara had been so scared. She had never seen Kelly that way before.

Kelly turned to watch Clara and Rita leave the room and saw Becky Britain staring at her from the glass-enclosed nursing station. Kelly shrugged and turned to the task of cleaning up the mess that Clara had created, knowing she would have to endure Becky’s complaints later.

**********************************************************

“Another day, another holler, huh Kelly?” Karen greeted as she let Kelly into the nursing station.

“Yeah, but today I was the one doing all the shouting. I bit Clara’s head off,” Kelly confessed. “How is she doing?”

“Don’t worry she is fine. You aren’t the first person to be driven to the breaking point by Clara,” she said. “Um, you have blue paint on your cheek,” she smirked.

“What about the pink paint in my hair?”

“I thought that was just a new look. I kind of like it.”

Kelly rolled her eyes. Karen had been the one to streak her hair in fluorescent colors during their college days. Kelly had never been so adventurous with her fashion statements. They were perfect roommates in college. Kelly was a balancing force and Karen was the stress reducer. They both had fieldwork assignments at St. James and were then hired into the psychiatric unit at the same time.

Karen had gotten her degree in nursing and Kelly was still going to school part time to get her Masters in psychology. Her job at the hospital helped to cover her education costs and also gave her credit for on the job experience. Kelly called herself a recreation therapist because the patients understood the concept. She was actually a unit technician who had been assigned the crafts group as part of her psychology internship.

“Maybe you just need a day off. You haven’t had one since…when?” Karen asked. “Between classes and work, you never take a break for yourself.”

“That isn’t any excuse,” Kelly argued. “Hey, what can you tell me about the new guy?” Kelly asked in an attempt to change the subject.

“The unofficial stuff, you mean?”

“Of course,” Kelly replied.

“Oh-oh, it will have to wait,” Karen whispered and nodded her head toward the nursing station door where Becky was entering. Karen gathered up some charts and headed out the other end of the station onto the unlocked ward.

Kelly started to leave with her charts but Becky stopped her.

“Clara is still pretty upset,” Becky stated. “That wasn’t a very professional way to handle her, do you think?”

“I’ve really got to get these charts done,” Kelly said, trying to sidle past her.

“Oh, I suppose you have to get going to another of your classes. They must not teach you much practical psychology there. Even I could have handled Clara better with my lowly L.P.N. degree,” she said bitterly.

Kelly bit her lip and ignored the gibe. “Excuse me,” she said and returned to the locked unit with her charts.

Becky had been on Kelly’s case ever since Kelly had been hired following her fieldwork. She was the only L.P.N. on the unit and had imaginary fears that everyone with a degree beyond hers looked down their noses at her. She was a good nurse, but she didn’t give her co-workers the benefit of the doubt when they tried to befriend her. She didn’t seem to have the same ideas about doctors, however, and was in fact dating one of the unit doctors. The same doctor that had given Kelly her current internship and who was responsible for supervising her.

Kelly had been patient with Becky and had been nice to her at every opportunity, complimenting her work and her rapport with patients. Becky responded by telling Kelly that her “psychological bull shit may work on patients, but not on me”. Since then Kelly had avoided Becky whenever possible.

Sitting at a table in the empty activity room Kelly took out Jonathan’s chart. Last names were not put on charts in the psychiatric unit nor were the patient’s names listed on the hospital census due to privacy laws. All the usual information was listed inside of the charts, however.

According to Jonathan’s chart he had been admitted through the emergency room one week ago today. He had spent two days in the intensive care unit and had then been transferred to the general medical floor before being admitted to the psychiatric unit last night. His emergency room form showed that he had been brought in by ambulance and that the call to 911 had been anonymous. He was comatose and his toxicology results showed he had consumed large quantities of alcohol, Oxycontin (a potent pain killer) and prescription antidepressants.

The history section of the chart was empty except for the emergency admission form. Kelly would have to check the in-box for medical records that hadn’t been filed in the new chart yet. There could be a reference in the patient history to the cause of his facial scars.

“What do you want to know?”

Kelly started at the deep voice. She hadn’t heard him enter the room.

“W-what?” she stammered.

“You are reading my chart,” Jonathan said, looking over her shoulder. He wasn’t much taller than her, maybe 5’7” to her 5’5”, but he seemed in that moment to be looming over her.

She flipped the chart closed and sat her clipboard on top of it. “I was just reviewing my note from group,” she lied.

“What did you write?” he asked sitting down across from her.

“You need to ask the doctor if you want to go over what is in your chart,” Kelly explained. “It’s just the policy.”

“I see,” he commented. “What did you do with my stuff?” he asked, looking around the room.

“Your stuff?” she asked confused.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow at her and waited.

“Oh, your project?” Kelly understood now. Jonathan was unnerving her. Guilt over her curiosity was getting to her. She had never been a good liar. “I put it back on the cart with the others. It has your name on it, you can work on it during group tomorrow.”

“We are here now, why can’t I work on it now?” he questioned. “It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do here”.

“I’m sorry, I have to leave in a few minutes. I can’t let patients work on their projects outside of group time,” Kelly apologized.

“Well, if you say so. Do you think you could get me a cup of coffee at least?” he winked at her.

Standing up and taking her charts from the table she said, “Okay, that I can do. I’ll be right back.”

He slouched back in his chair, folded his arms and waited.

**********************************************************


Kelly shut the nursing station door behind her and moved away from the window so that Jonathan couldn’t see her. She breathed a sigh of relief that Becky was no longer lurking there. Jonathan had her spooked and she wasn’t completely sure why. Her intuition was usually reliable so she decided to respect it and keep her guard up.

She headed for the coffee pot and found it empty, the smell of burnt grounds was all that remained. As she bent down to get the supplies out of the cabinet she heard the door open from the unlocked ward and looked up to see Dr. Stevens come in, with Becky right behind him. Great, she thought to herself. Becky had gone to him with her complaint about Kelly without wasting any time. Becky had been dating Dr. Stevens for the past six months. Rumor had it that he had been seen in the jewelry store looking at diamond rings. If they got married, life on the unit would be miserable.

Kelly tried to make herself small and insignificant while she started the coffee brewing. Maybe Dr. Stevens would be too busy to bother with Becky’s petty complaints right now.

She could hear them talking softly, then she heard Becky’s voice begin to rise and finally Becky huffed “Fine! Have it your way. I thought you valued my observations, but I guess not,” and she stomped out into the unlocked unit.

Kelly filled a large Styrofoam cup with coffee, grabbed a handful of sweet-n-low packets and turned to go back to Jonathan when Dr. Stevens said pleasantly, “ I hear you are having a rough time so far today.” He smiled and sat down at the counter. “I’d like to talk to you about it if you have a minute.”

Oh, no, Kelly thought. Taking a deep breath but trying not to let Stevens see it she answered nonchalantly, “Well, I’ve had worse days, no doubt about that. I do have to get this coffee over to a patient…” She motioned toward the locked ward door.

“Well it’s okay, we can talk later,” he stood up to get the door for her. “How about you meet me in the cafeteria when you go on break, say about eleven? We’ll beat the lunch crowd that way.”

This sounded more like a strong recommendation than an invitation. Kelly thought for a second then followed her intuition and said, “Well, okay, sure. I’ll meet you down there around eleven,” and she went through the door back onto the locked ward.

“Pssst! Pssst! Hey, Kelll-lly,” someone whispered to her left. She swiveled in that direction almost sloshing coffee over the rim of the Styrofoam cup as she turned.

“Jeeze, Ben, don’t do that!” she admonished. “What in the world do you want?”

“Watch yourself, girl. Just watch yourself. Trouble’s comin’. Mark my words…it’s a comin’,” Ben sing-songed and walked away toward the lounge at the far end of the hall.

Kelly shivered.

Before the hairs on her neck could lie down again she was facing Jonathan. He hadn’t move since she had left. Not at all. He had a glassy stare and didn’t acknowledge her entrance. She sat the coffee down in front of him and there was still no response. She fanned the steam from the coffee in his direction but he still didn’t blink.

“Jonathan, what is wrong with you?” Kelly asked calmly. She had seen other patients do this before but usually it was schizophrenics with a history of catatonia. As far as she knew, Jonathan had no such history. “Jonathan…?” She reached out to touch him, expecting him to jump at her, scaring her with a practical joke, but his hand was icy cold and he didn’t seem to notice her touch. She took his pulse and it felt normal to her. “Jonathan! Can you hear me?” she shouted. She pulled out the smelling salts vial she kept in her lab coat pocket and used it to no avail.

Kelly ran to the nursing station to call for a Code White backup. This brought staff running from all over the unit including Karen and Becky as well as Dr. Stevens who had been seeing patients on the open ward.

Kelly stepped back out of the way and let the nursing staff tend to Jonathan who now seemed to be having some sort of seizure. This day just kept going down hill. She turned to go back into the nursing station to start the appropriate paper work for the Code White since she had called for it and saw Ben standing in the doorway to the lounge. She made eye contact for an instant and heard him mumble, “I told you it was comin’”.

Kelly rubbed her arms to quiet the chill his words induced, and entered the nursing station.