explanation as he signed each one. What he absorbed was mostly what he already knew. He was contracting to work for a minimum of thirty months at a base salary of $18,000 per year plus living expenses that included free medical care, room and board, uniforms, plus automatic raises every six months and cost-of-living increases. An interest bearing checking account was opened for direct deposit of his paychecks, and there were

powers-of-attorney that would allow Ms. Miller to proceed with the sale of his and his parents cars and allow her to deal with the auction company in his absence. Half way though his second brandy, he wasn't even listening, just signing.

Chris awoke to the persistant ring of the phone that only intensified his throbbing hangover. "Hello?" he groaned.

"Chris,

"The "Julia's voice greeted cheerily. limo will be by for you at nine tomorrow morning. And I've got a buyer for both cars and so we need to arrange for them to be picked up." Groggily he arranged his affairs with some of Dr. Smith's capsules for support.

When the limosine arrived, Chris was surprisingly clear-headed and calm, even eager to begin what he had come to consider as a new life, an adventure. A two hour drive brought him to a seaside dock where a 24-foot launch was moored. There was a crew of three along with two ladies. and their luggage, patients bound for the island retreat. The three-hour boat trip over calm seas was very boring since the two women carefully avoided Chris and the crew was generally occupied with their duties, leaving him to stare at the waves. Eventually they sited the island and very soon the craft motored into a cove and tied up at a small floating dock where three women in nurse's whites were waiting. Chris and the two ladies, with their luggage, were loaded into a van.

A

large hand painted sign nearby welcomed them to Greystone Clinic. Within a few minutes they pulled up in front of a large victorian structure that looked very little like a hospital, while the abundance of nurses testified to its true function.

Two of the nurses unloaded the lady patients and their bags, while the third nurse, the driver, introduced herself to Chris. "I'm Mary Durgin,

Head of Administration. And you are Christopher Davis, right?"

"Yes," he answered shyly.

"Good. I'll be your boss for about the next year, Chris," she said as they drove to a nearby building. "And this," she pointed, "is where you will be living."

u

They collected his suitcases and were soon in a small but well-furnished secund story apartment with a kitchenette, living room, bedroom, and bath. Mary gave Chris a map of the grounds and buildings, giving him directions. "The employee dining room is downstairs along with a lounge, and the meal times are listed. You can unpack and relax this afternoon, then, if you are ready by five, we'll go to the cafeteria for dinner. Tomorrow I'll show you our office then you'll have a medical exam, and we'll have you fitted for your uniforms."

"Uniforms?"

She eyed him questioningly.

"You didn't

expect to work in a hospital and not wear a uniform, did you?"

"No, I suppose not.

But I'm not gonna be an

orderly or anything like that am I?"

She gave him a motherly pad on the cheek. "No, dear, you're not, but the uniform is required, as you can see." She indicated her own starched white cotton dress. "Of course, when you

aren't at work you can wear whatever you like."

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