Janine swallowed her giggle, and choked; Nurse Tomoko was walking back from behind the hospital counter after having had a private discussion with Nurse Legrange, the Smurf-like elderly woman who Janine thought had done a rock‘n’roll pantyhose knee-slide over the polished hospital floor. Nurse Tomoko’s face looked like a twisted, half-mast Japanese flag; her cherry-red lips in an ‘O’ of disbelief, her frown a deep crease in her pale face.

There was a click-clack-click-clack noise that echoed through the reception area, haunting the adjoining halls that stretched out in the glow of the afternoon sun like giant arachnid legs. At first Janine thought it was the nurse’s shoes but she couldn’t remember them making that sound—they were of the rubber-soled kind, and the sound wasn’t in tune with Nurse Tomoko’s step.
Janine wiped the tears from her eyes by using both sleeves of her pyjama top; first left, then right—holding both arms there for a moment longer than required so that the cloth could absorb the moisture. She squinted and saw that Nurse Tomoko was holding something shiny in her left hand, opening and closing it like a castanet. This was not some Spanish folk dance, however; this was the click-clack-click-clack of coffin lids being shut before being lowered into the ground.

Nurse Tomoko had a quick glance at the time, and slipped the silver pocket watch into her pocket. She upped her pace a little, and upon reaching the wheelchair, pushed the clipboard in behind Janine’s back. She took hold of the push handles, and started jog-walking, pushing Janine down the east wing.

‘Where are we go-ig?’

‘We are going to get a bite to eat, Janine. A promise is a promise. We have about seven minutes before meeting with Doctor Shepherd. I want you to answer the clinician’s questions with a full stomach,’ Nurse Tomoko sounded out of breath, but Janine sensed that it wasn’t physical—the nurse sounded mentally drained on her first day at the Weskoppies Psychiatric Hospital.

‘Boob.’

‘Huh?’

‘Boob.'

‘Ha! Phew! You got me there, Janine Wilkinson. Yes, good indeed. And I know where to get the good apricot jam, too; that Nurse Legrange back there isn’t so bad. Knows what she’s talking about. Feet up!’ Nurse Tomoko leaned forward and pushed down with her weight. She lifted the front wheels, using the wheelchair’s foot rests to push open the impact doors leading into the canteen, which flapped open like severed limbs.
The worn rubber frames, much to the bewilderment of the three people mopping up the aftermath of what looked like a food fight, slammed against the walls like the claps of two gunshots that would rip through (and take off) any part of the body.

‘Lunch is over,’ the lady nearest to the doors snapped, holding up her mop in the way one would fending of an army of zombies, ‘Lunch hours are from—’

‘No, not according to this note, I’m afraid.’ Nurse Tomoko smacked her lips. She had reached into her watch-pocket, and was waving the piece of paper like a white flag over her head. ‘Signed by Nurse Legrange.’

‘Let me see that,’ one of the cleaners demanded.

Nurse Tomoko wasn’t sure which one had spoken; she had removed her pocket watch and was checking the time. Five minutes. Fuck. ‘If you want to see it, you’ll have to come and get it,’ she said, and dropped the note on a random table, walking straight down the aisle between the plastic tables, which were arranged in perfect rows like chess pieces about to engage in battle. Nurse Tomoko gave the wheelchair a firm shove, and let go of the push handles. She made a ninety-degree right, and sprinted through the third and fourth row of tables nearest to the canteen service counter. The batwing door swish-swished behind her as she slipped in behind the counter and pulled open the second fridge door to her right, as per Nurse Legrange’s instructions. No time for toast.

An unconscious thumbs-up appeared in Janine’s mind. Her eyes lit up, and her nostrils flared while whizzing down the aisle like a horse about to cause havoc amongst the pawns. A thin smile tugged at her lips, stinging the corners of her mouth, as the realization of what was expected of her started to sink in. It wasn’t an important task, but given the fact that she’d woken up in a mental institution after two days and a night at the Kruger National Park, it felt to Janine as if she was about to save the world. Advancing towards the service counter, she stuck out her feet and focused on the targets ahead—the ‘G’ and ‘H’ of the yellow-lettered sticker that read Get Food Here. Janine flinched, but the impact wasn’t nearly as intense as she had imagined it; she gently placed her feet against the counter and stopped her forward momentum.

‘Victory!’ Nurse Tomoko exclaimed. With her bandaged hand she shoved a huge chunk of bread into her mouth; the jam was so thick Janine couldn’t see the tip of her nose. In her left hand was a quarter loaf of bread, broken in half and stuffed with the good stuff.

Janine was so happy she also raised a (shaky) fist.

For the last time in three years.