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  The Scrubs Thief

  Copyright © 2013 by D.e.e.L

  Cover Art by D.e.e.L

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of a brief quotation embodied in critical articles and/or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Dedicated to coffee on Mondays

  And finding what brings you happiness

  The Scrubs Thief

  By: D.e.e.L

  Nobody ever suspected Irving McGuire, why would they? Everyone saw him as just a normal guy with a beautiful wife, three darling children. But Irving has a dark secret, one that will rock the surgery center and put everyone in peril. He is…THE SCRUBS THIEF!

  Monday:

  “Hey, Irving. How was your weekend?”

  “Too short.”

  “Aren’t they all? Ha ha, oh, by the way, don’t expect any large scrubs to be in the locker room. We’re out again.”

  “Seems like we always are.”

  “I know right? Well, I’ll be downstairs washing my hands. See you down there.”

  “Yea, I’ll be down there…shortly.”

  Irving sips his coffee as he walks, the coffee steaming and mixed with half of a hot chocolate packet that was sitting by the sugar packets. He finishes his morning energy and tosses the cup into the “Recycle” section of the garbage. Then, making his way to the locker room he hums a tune, an eerie tune.

  “All of them, I’ll wear them in public…people will think highly of me. I’ll give some to my children for pajamas…they will love me for it. I’ll give some pairs to my wife…she’ll say they’re so comfortable.”

  “What?”

  “Who’s there?”

  “Just me, Rick.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t know someone was using the bathroom.”

  “It’s cool. So, borrowing some scrubs it sounds like?”

  “No.”

  “Sure sounded like you said you were…”

  “You heard nothing…”

  Irving slides a pair of Medium Bottoms under the stall door.

  “Let’s let this be our little secret,” says Irving as he stuffs his arms with bundles of scrubs.

  “Um, sure…”

  Monday Evening:

  “New pajamas! Thank you, Irving!”

  “Call me Dad please.”

  “But…” Lilly gives the sad ‘puppy dog’ eyes.

  “Why are you giving these to me?” asks his wife of almost two years.

  “Something comfortable to wear while you coo…co-work…with the vacuum.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re excused…I’ll be in my office.”

  Irving heads to his home office, where he plays video games until six pm when his children come running in to tell him that dinner is ready.  He finds his wife setting the table with red sauce stains on her new scrubs.

  “This looks delicious. What, um, what is it?”

  “Tater-tots and peanuts, covered in red pasta sauce.”

  “Very exotic,” he mumbles with a mouth-full.

  “Ryan, stop eating off my plate!”

  “But you got more than me!”

  “Mom, Ethel smells! Ryan, stop it!”

  “Ryan, stop touching Lilly’s food! And Irving, it’s your turn to change Ethel.”

  “Uh, yea, I’ll get on that.”

  “Now, Irving…”

  “I’m just enjoying this amazing dinner…”

  She raises her right eyebrow.

  “I’m going, I’m going,” he says with his hands raised.

  “And put the diaper on right this time!”

  “Jenna…I’m a professional…”

  “A professional what I’ll never know.”

  He picks up his daughter Ethel and heads into her room upstairs. Lilly and Ryan continue to fight over the food as Jenna sits at the table forking at her newest creation with her right hand while bracing her head up with her left.

   

  Tuesday:

  Irving swipes his way into the cafeteria area before letting his ID retract and hit him in the chest. He places his left over tater-tot concoction into the fridge shared by all of the employees. On the outside of the refrigerator is a poster reminding people to keep away from each others lunches. Part of Irving hopes that some poor soul does steal his meal. He walks over to the stale pot and pours himself a cup of black coffee.

  “Almost the weekend!” a man with brown hair walks past Irving and gets denied of a high-five. The brown haired man, Brent, irks Irving. He just smiles and nods at Brent until the awkward moment passes and Brent leaves the area.

  “Tastes like a horse’s behind,” Irving mutters to himself before dumping his coffee into the sink.

  “Didn’t know your palate was so cultured,” says a smart tone from behind him.

  “Hey, didn’t know someone was behind me. Good morning, Maria.”

  “How was your weekend?

  “Fun, I guess, took the kids to a water park on Saturday. Jenna got to read and I got sunburn.”

  “You have to use that SPF, man. I’m telling you it’s the way of the future.”

  “Ha, I’ll have to remember that next time.”

  “You’d better. Well, have a great day; try not to have too much fun.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Irving waits for a new pot to brew as he stares out the windows on the other side of the cafeteria. The building across the parking lot has the windows all lit up. A woman runs on a treadmill on the second floor and a man cries into a phone on the first. Irving sucks his lips in and looks up to the ceiling as if not wanting to be known for his voyeur. Once the coffee finishes he pours a cup full into a paper cup inside another paper cup. He drowns himself with the hot fuel as quickly as one can.

  Tuesday Evening:

   

  “Did you get all the grocery shopping done?”

  “No, I…there was no time.”

  “No time? What about now? What is it you’re doing now?”

  Irving places a bundle of small scrubs onto the counter and nods at his wife. He grins and heads to his office.

  “Oh no you’re not! Get your butt to the store!”

  “But…the…”

  “The video game? Don’t worry about that, I hid your video games. You need to spend more time with the kids.”

  “But they’re at school…”

  “At five ‘o’clock? They’ve been home for hours. Now take them with you grocery shopping. Ryan! Lilly! Go with your father to the store!”

  “I don’t want to!”

  “He smells funny! Ha ha ha!”

  “They’re never going to accept me as their father, Jenna.”

  “Just be patient with them. Soon they will be just as much yours as Ethel is. Kids! One…two…”

  “We’re coming!”

  In the car the two children slap each other and complain that the ride is taking too long. Ryan has to use the bathroom and Lilly insists that the car be pulled over and fumigated.

  “If you two behave I’ll let each of you make your own bag of gummies from the bulk section.”

  Instantly the children became mindless drones. Milk, eggs, bread, tater-tots, peanuts, sauce, rice, steak, lobster…no, no lobster, chips, cookies, popcorn, half a bottle of Mountain Dew, gummies.

  “You guys, look at all these packages you opened; now we have to pay for this st
uff.”

  “I didn’t do anything. It was all Ryan’s fault.”

  Ryan burps from his Mountain Dew binge and declares himself innocent.

  Wednesday:

   

  “You know what today is…”

  “Don’t say it…”

  “Hump day!”

  “It doesn’t mean what you think it does, Brent.”

  “Hump day!”

  “Ugh…yay…”

  Irving nods politely and walks away from Brent, leaving him waiting for the high-five that will never happen.

  “They’re running out…there is hardly any here…”

  “I know, don’t know where they’ve all been going. Soon we’ll have to walk around this place in garbage bags.”

  “Don’t they just keep ordering more though?”

  “Heck if I know.”

  “But…I need them…”

  “We all do. You okay, Irving?”

  “What? Oh, yea, Bill. Just, just tired I guess, the baby…”

  “I know how that is. How the older kids treating you? They warm up to you yet?”

  “I don’t know. It’s so hard to connect with them without spending money.”

  “That’s how it always is. Then the real rebellion starts, they’ll love you sooner or later.”

  “I hope so…”

  Irving stands staring at the wall of dwindling scrubs. Sitting on metal shelves sectioned off into sizes and tops/bottoms. He’s made the Large Bottom joke plenty of times.

  “I hope they order more…”

  “You again? Is this your doing, how many of those scrubs are you stealing?”

  “Rick?”

  “Yea, it’s me.”

  “You spend an awful lot