Long, Dark Hallway

1

Staring at the long, dark hallway at 4:00 am, Joe Cowdery felt a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had only been working at St. Peter's Hospital for two weeks, but cleaning this hallway was his most dreaded task. As a custodian on third shift, he was tasked to sweep and mop the hallways, when traffic in those areas was at a minimum. He didn't mind the hallways on the first or second floors, but the basement of the original hospital was the one that bothered him. It was in a "T" shape; the top section led to the elevator on one end and the stairwell at the other, while the dimly lit long section formed the bottom. The concrete walls were cold and painted battleship grey, and the old 9-inch asbestos floor tile was dark brown with black streaks. The ceiling was also concrete, painted with a cream color, now stained with years of cigarette smoke from a time when hospital employees could light up in the building. Every twenty feet were mounted aged fluorescent light fixtures that hummed when powered on, and barely cast enough light to see. It worried him not only because the hallway was dark, even with the lights on, but it was because of what was at the far end that filled him with dread.

There was a sign mounted next to the metal double doors that read simply, "Morgue". There was something in that word that instilled a sense of fear in Joe, even though the morgue was moved to the new addition that was built last year, and this area was closed for business. Maybe it was the thought that just about every dead person in McLean County, for the past 75 years, had passed through those doors. They would be whisked out of the morgue, up a concrete ramp and into hearses parked in the alley behind the hospital, waiting to take their fares to various funeral homes in the Bloomington area. Even the indigent would leave the morgue this way for a burial of minimal expense in a glorified cardboard box in a section of Maple Hill Cemetery, funded by private donations. No customer left the morgue coming back through the metal double doors at the end of the long, dark hallway.

2

"Mr. Montgomery will see you now, Mr. Cowdery," said Christine Conder, the secretary that worked in the buildings and grounds office at St. Peter's Hospital. She was in her early 40's but looked like she was pushing 60, with too much makeup and an outdated mullet-style hairdo, prepared for public viewing each day with a full can of Aqua Net. Her voice was gruff, from years of smoking Pall Mall reds. She looked up only for a moment and forced a smile before going back to her crossword puzzle and gum smacking.

Joe nodded to her, making his way into Doug Montgomery's office. Doug was the supervisor of the maintenance crew and custodians. Joe's father-in-law, Ben, had told him about the custodial job that was posted on the bulletin board near the employee time clock. He was less than six months from retiring from the maintenance crew, and he hoped his influence with Doug would help Joe get the job. Joe and his daughter, Betsy, were only married a year and were expecting their first baby in less than two months. Ben wanted something more secure for Joe, who was a hard worker but wasting his time bagging groceries at the IGA. He wanted more for Betsy than a bag boy's income.

"Come on and sit down - uh, Joe, right?" Doug said, forcing a wry smile. Distracted, he barely made eye contact.

"Yes, sir. Joe Cowdery." Joe sat down, looking around Doug's office to see if there were clues that might give him something to talk about with his potential boss. His father had suggested that tactic during a job interview. Doug's office was outdated with cheap wood paneling and random pieces of even cheaper furniture. It was cluttered with piles of maintenance parts catalogs and car magazines, and pictures of his wife and two boys at various ages and events in frames on the walls. Also displayed were some of his training certificates and the licenses he had to carry for his position. There was Green Bay Packer calendar on the wall next to a sign that read, "Ford Parking Only". There was also a poster that said "kiss my ass" with a smiling donkey on it. Doug had a penchant for interior decorating by garage sale.