Augustus introduced her to Nelson, a kindly old medic who looked nothing like what she imagined a pirate would be. He had long white whiskers that pooled into his bushy beard, which was a similar milky color. The tiny man was even smaller than she was, and his thick-lensed spectacles made his eyes seem huge, like saucers. He shuffled over to greet her, extending his long bony arm for a handshake.
“So you must be the young lady that caused the ruckus on the deck the other day,” he said warmly, shaking her hand. His voice was soft and grandfatherly, with no hint of malice and even a drop of pity.
He bid the Captain farewell, and then instructed Alice to follow him. They passed rows of beds, a few empty, but most containing a body. Some of the men noisily shifted as they passed, groans of pain and discomfort escaping their mouths.
Nelson motioned to the glass-doored cabinet in the far corner of the room, “This is where the gauze is kept, as well as the salve and other implements. The Captain has informed me you have some rudimentary medical knowledge?” Alice nodded. “Good. Your task will be to replace the bandages on the men daily, and to reapply salve to their wounds.”
He removed some from its shelf, showed her how to cut it into strips and approached what looked like a sleeping bear in one of the beds. “Turn around Brutus, I have to change your bandages.” A couple of protesting groans came from the mountain, but no movement. “Do you want to get better or not?” Slowly the figure turned on its back, revealing itself to be a particularly hairy man. His shoulder and abdomen were heavily bandaged, and the medic gently cut the gauze away, revealing two deep cuts, one that split what looked like a faded mermaid tattoo right in half. The black stiches holding them shut looked like they were straining to keep the man together.
The doctor worked fast, dressing the wounds and carefully wrapping them. He placed his hand on Brutus’ forehead, “Your fever has dropped,” Nelson said, pleased. “Soon you will be able to rejoin the land of the living.”
If Brutus’ registered the news, he didn’t show it, his face remaining a concrete slab. His eyes moved lazily to Alice, an obvious question flitting in the air. Calming herself, she declared in what she hoped was a steady voice, “I’m Alice, the new nurse.” He looked at her for a moment, and then turned back around to face the wall. As they were moving to the next bed, Alice heard him mutter to himself, “Are you sure my fever dropped, doc? Because I swear I’m hallucinating women.”
Moving bed to bed, Nelson repeated the same procedure, making comments here and there if the patient needed something specific. Alice followed along, trying to best memorize what be was doing, periodically introducing herself to those who were curious. It took them a while, but they got through most of the room.
Approaching the last two beds, the medic voice hushed his voice. He put down the gauze, and his eyebrows drooped sadly. Alice searched his eyes for some instruction.
“Just hold their hand. It won’t be long now,” he said, his voice full of sympathy. He walked over to the first man, who seemed fully conscious but very weak. Walking closer, she saw that his skin was red and blotchy, his limbs bruised. She guessed that he most likely had sepsis, or an infection of the blood, that originated from an obvious puncture wound in his sternum.
The doctor talked to the man in a hushed voice, holding his hand and kneeling by his bed. Alice stood a respectful distance away, and although she could not make out what he was saying, the words seemed kindhearted and soothing. After some time, Nelson got up and made his way over to the next patient, who was completely immobile. He stood over the man for a couple seconds, before gently sweeping his eyes closed with his hand. He turned to Alice, shaking his head gently. The man was dead.
Alice covered her mouth and turned away, while the medic called for a couple men to take the body away. Nobody seemed shocked or surprised at the passing, instead roughly lifting the lifeless body out of the bed and taking it to the deck. Alice did not follow.
She stood there for a while, until she felt a hand squeeze her shoulder. “Death takes us all eventually,” said the old man, “but it’s our job to prevent it from taking them too early.” Alice looked at him. He was like an ancient ship, battered and worn, scarred by battle. She could tell this was not his first time dealing with loss, and judging from his knowing look, not his last. He sighed heavily, “I think this is enough for today. Report here early tomorrow morning.” And with that, she departed.
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