I Fell in Love with Hope - Lancali

Nurse Ella is a harsh, disciplined woman. She wears her hair in a
tight bun at the back of her neck. Her white uniform is neat, pressed,
stainless. I’m convinced her back does not bend, and her hands are
made of iron.
“Old hag,” Sam whispers, laughing, sticking his tongue out at her,
and tugging me along.
Nurse Ella opens her newspaper with a displeased grunt.
Sam is under Ella’s care. When he was little and rambunctious, no
other nurses could handle him. Nurse Ella was not deterred. She
washed her hands vigorously and marched to wherever Sam had
run off. She grabbed the collar of his shirt, dragged him back to his
room, and warned him that little boys who don’t take their medicine
cannot grow into strong knights. She told Sam that if he wanted his
pudding and his sweet bread, he would keep himself clean, tidy his
room, and do as he was told.
Nurse Ella is good at bargaining.
She is good at keeping Sam safe.
She told Sam all the fairytales she knew. She reads to him and
smacks his arm with the cover if he interrupts. She sewed him a
mask, told him not to lose it, and always wear it over his nose and
mouth. She scolds him frequently. She makes him sit and think
about his actions.
Almost daily, Sam tells Nurse Ella that she is boring and mean and
an old hag. Nurse Ella reminds him that she doesn’t care.
She does care, though, I think, as much as I do.
For someone in Sam’s position, not living is a precaution, she once
told me, looking at Sam past the glass as his doctors made him lie
on his side and examined his body. That’s what those foolish men in
white coats tell me. She made her signature displeased grunt.