So the second time I went into her room, once again bringing the get-well cards, I was prepared. I tried to ignore the dim light and the humming machines. And I tried to remember Mimi the way she was before the stroke.
I looked around the room.
In a corner was a wooden armchair with vinyl cushions. I pulled it next to the bed and leaned over. I forced myself to look into Mimi’s eyes.
“Hi, Mimi,” I said.
She blinked her eyes, but that was all. Had she heard me? How awful not to be able to wave or smile or anything.
“Mimi, I’m only allowed to stay for ten minutes,” I told her. “So I’ll tell you what’s been going on.” I paused. “Well, we had our first play group. Do you remember what that was?”
Mimi blinked her eyes, but I noticed that they were focused somewhere on the ceiling.
“Well, you probably do. Anyway, it went fine. And guess what the art project was. The kids made get-well cards for you. They were all really sorry to hear that you’re in the hospital. A lot of the kids made two or three cards. I brought them with me. This one is from David Michael. See?” I held it up. “It says, ‘Get will soon Mini.’ And this is from Margo Pike. She’s just learning to write, so the letters spell ‘HGDOMYLSP,’ but she translated for me, and they mean, ‘Please feel better. I hope you can come home soon. Love, Margo.’ She drew a picture of a fireman for you. And Buddy Barrett made this one: ‘Der Claudi’s granmohter plese fell better verry soon and com back becase we want you to plese fell better verry soon.
Yours truly, Hamilton Barrett, Junior.’ It took him twenty minutes to write that.”
I showed Mimi the rest of the cards. Then I said, “I think we’ll put them over here on the windowsill. They’ll kind of cheer up the room.”
I lined the cards up. It was hard to keep thinking of things to tell Mimi. I wasn’t used to one-sided conversations. Kristy would have done fine, since she could talk the ear off of a cornstalk, and Janine had done okay the night before, but I’m not a big talker. If I knew for sure that Mimi could hear me, it would have been a little easier, but she wasn’t giving any signs. The only movement I’d seen was when she blinked her eyes.
Her eyes! I had an idea.
I stood up. “Hey, Mimi,” I said, leaning way over and looking right into her eyes. “If you can hear me, blink your eyes.”
Mimi blinked. I gasped. But maybe it was just an accident. She’d been blinking a lot already. I tried something else. “Mimi, if my name is Claudia, blink two times.”
Mimi blinked twice.
“You can hear!” I exclaimed. “Oh, wow! Now we can talk! Mimi, this will be our code. One blink means yes. Two blinks mean no, okay?”
Mimi blinked once.
“Do you like your get-well cards?” I asked.
One blink.
“Do you know you’re in the hospital?”
One blink.
“Mimi, my ten minutes are almost up, but I have to tell you something really, really important. I … I’m sorry I yelled at you the other night. I didn’t mean what I said. I love you very much, and I’m sorry. Do you understand?”
One blink.
“Oh, I wish I could hug you,” I said tearfully, “but I don’t see how. Too many machines and tubes. Okay?”
One blink.
Mom was signaling to me from the hallway. I had to leave. I rushed out and told everyone about the blinks. Dad got hold of a doctor, and Mom ran in to “talk” with Mimi. It was exciting.
Still, when we returned home that evening, we were silent and sad. It was awful that Mimi had to talk by blinking her eyes. And the doctors still didn’t know how much better she would get.
I wandered around my room for a while, and then decided I wanted some company. Mom and Dad were on the phone with relatives, so I peered into Janine’s room. She was at her computer. The keys were clackety-clacking away a mile a minute. The funny thing was, she looked like she was crying a little, but when I called to her, she didn’t answer. I guess she couldn’t hear me over the noise.
Wednesday
Well, Karen Brewer strikes again. Leave it to Karen. When she’s around, things are never dull. Today was the second session of our play group and Andrew and Karen came to it. Watson’s ex-wife needed a last-minute sitter for them, so she called Watson and he decided to drop them off at Stacey’s.
In the past, Karen has scared other kids with stories about witches, ghosts, and Martians. Today, she had a new one—a monster tale. But it was a monster tale with a twist, as you guys know. I’m not sure there’s anything we can do about Karen. The thing is, she usually doesn’t mean to scare people. She just has a wild imagination.
But, oh boy, when Karen and Jenny got together …
I’m sure glad Kristy likes Karen Brewer so much, since they’re stepsisters now. And I like Karen myself, but she’s a handful! She’s not the unpleasant kind of handful that Jenny is, but she’s still a lot to manage.
Anyway, as Kristy said, Karen and Andrew needed last-minute looking-after, so Watson dropped them off at Stacey’s. They were a little late, and were the last ones to arrive at the play group.
We had almost the same group of kids as we’d had on Monday. Mallory came over with Claire, Margo, and Nicky (but not Vanessa); Jenny; and Buddy Barrett (but not Suzi). David Michael, Charlotte, and Jamie all showed up. And so did Nina and Eleanor Marshall, two little girls the club sits for sometimes. Nina is four and Eleanor’s two. Eleanor was the baby of the group, but she seemed to have fun.
When Karen and Andrew arrived, the kids (except for Jenny) were playing happily. Charlotte, Claire, and Margo were making collages by gluing foil stars and colored tissue paper onto pieces of cardboard. Nina was looking at a book with Eleanor. Buddy, Nicky, and David Michael were roaring around, playing something Nicky had invented called “Blast into Superspace.” And Jamie was building with his Legos, which he’d brought over.
Mallory was helping out at the art table, but what were the five of us baby-sitters doing? We were gathered around Jenny, trying to convince her to put on a smock. The smock was a shirt that had belonged to Stacey’s father. It was old but clean, and in perfectly good condition. Jenny refused to wear it.
The day before, Mary Anne had somehow found the courage to phone Mrs. Prezzioso and suggest that she dress Jenny in play clothes. And today Jenny had shown up in Mrs. P.’s idea of play clothes, a brand-new white sundress with ruffles around the bottom, trimmed with pale pink ribbon and white lace, and brand-new white sandals. The sandals were the fancy kind, more like shoes with holes punched on top in a pretty design.
We baby-sitters were horrified.
“All in white!” Stacey had moaned. She clapped a hand to her forehead.
“And the dress is freshly ironed,” added Dawn, awestruck.
“These are play clothes?” cried Kristy. “Look at the other kids: shorts, shorts, shorts, blue jeans, shorts, shorts, overalls” (that was Eleanor) “shorts, jeans, very old sundress.” (That was Margo.) “And all of us and Mallory are in, well, fairly old clothes.” (Some of us looked nicer than others.)
“Come on, Jenny,” I said. “Just put the smock on.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“This is my new dress. I want everyone to see it.”
“We’ve all seen it. It’s beautiful,” I told her. “And if you put the smock on, you can keep your dress beautiful—all nice and clean like it is now.” I held the smock out to her.
“No.”
“Look, this can be your smock,” Stacey suggested. “Your special smock. Nobody else will have one like it. Claudia could even put your name on it.”
This is what was going on when Karen and Andrew showed up.
Karen marched jauntily into the yard, with Andrew several steps behind her.
I was relieved to see that both were wearing shorts. And sneakers.
“Here we are!” Karen announced gaily. (Watson had phoned Kristy earlier to say that they’d be
coming.)
“Hiya, Karen. Hi, Andrew,” said Kristy. She turned away from Jenny to give them each a hug. When Kristy stood up, Karen peered around her and spotted Jenny.
“Who’s that?” she asked, frowning.
“That’s Jenny Prezzioso,” Kristy told her.
“How come she’s all dressed up? Is she going to a birthday party?”
“This is my new dress,” Jenny said proudly. She whirled around, making the ruffles fan out. “Isn’t it pretty?”
“I don’t know,” replied Karen. She narrowed her eyes. “You’ll have to keep it awfully clean.”
“So what?” said Jenny.
“So what?” Karen mimicked her.
It was time to step in. “Karen,” I said, “David Michael’s over there.” I pointed him out. “Why don’t you go play with him and his friends?”
Karen glanced at Jenny again. It was instant hatred, I could tell. I’ve seen it happen before. It was like that with me and Beverly McManiman in fourth grade. We were enemies the entire year.
“Okay,” said Karen. She started to walk away. But as she left she called over her shoulder—very casually—to Jenny, “Watch out for the monster.” Then she kept on walking.
“What monster?” Jenny cried.
“Karen,” Kristy said warningly.
Karen kept on walking, as if she hadn’t heard them.
“What monster?” Jenny shrieked. She ran after Karen.
“Hey, come back!” I called. “Your smock!”
Now Jenny was pretending not to hear.
Since Karen was older than Jenny and had longer legs, she reached David Michael quickly.
I looked at the other club members as Jenny hurried to catch up with Karen. “Now what?” I said.
“Oh, let them go,” replied Dawn.
“But Jenny’s dress—”
“Maybe we should just let it get dirty,” said Mary Anne unexpectedly.
We looked at her in surprise. That was a very un-Mary-Anne-like thing to say.
“Well, what does Mrs. P. think goes on at a play group?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “And what does Jenny do all day when she’s at home? Doesn’t she ever get dirty?”
“We have our reputations to think about,” said our president nervously. “If Jenny goes home with a ruined dress, Mrs. P. might be really upset. She might tell Mrs. Pike and Mrs. Pike might—”
“Eeee!”
“What was that?” I asked.
Before we could find out who had shrieked—and why—David Michael ran up to us and said breathlessly, “What’s big and red and eats rocks? A big, red rock-eater, that’s what!”
We looked at the group in the corner of the yard. They seemed fine. David Michael had run back to them, and the three boys and Karen were talking earnestly, probably telling jokes (although we couldn’t be sure). Jenny listened from a few feet away.
“We can’t worry about Jenny all day,” I pointed out. “We better get to work.”
Kristy joined Jamie with his Legos, Mary Anne sat down with Nina and Eleanor, and Dawn and Stacey wandered over to the kids at the art table.
I decided to keep an eye on the entire group. That was when I noticed Andrew. He was still standing at the entrance to Stacey’s backyard.
“Hey, Andrew,” I said, approaching him. Andrew looked at his feet and dug the toe of one sneaker into the grass. He’s very shy. “Andrew, does anyone ever call you Andy?” I asked.
“Mommy calls me Andy-Pandy,” he said.
“Would it be all right if I called you Andy?”
He nodded.
“Good,” I said. “Let’s go see what your sister’s doing.” I took Andrew by the hand and led him toward the group of kids. I thought that all of them looked kind of frightened.
“What’s going on, you guys?” I asked brightly.
The kids looked up. They saw Andrew and me, and they all began screaming. Then they ran away.
“What on earth?” I exclaimed.
“Monster!” shrieked Jenny.
Andrew and I ran to her.
Jenny let out another shriek. “Get that boy away from me!” she cried, pointing to Andrew. “He’s a monster!”
“Oh, Jenny,” I said. “A monster? Where did you get that idea? He’s just Andrew.”
“No, no! He turns into a monster! She said so.” Now Jenny was pointing to Karen.
“Oh, brother,” I said. “Karen, come here right this minute.”
Karen crept over. She stopped about fifteen feet away from me.
“Come here,” I repeated.
Karen shook her head. Then, “What time is it?” she asked.
“Almost ten o’clock. Why?”
“Because,” replied Karen, trembling, “Morbidda Destiny put a spell on Andrew last weekend. At ten o’clock today he’s going to turn into a monster.”
Andrew looked up at me and smiled. “Grrrrrr,” he said.
“Aughhh!” screamed Karen, Jenny, David Michael, and most of the kids in the yard. They’d all been listening. They didn’t know that Morbidda Destiny was a weird, old neighbor of Karen’s whom Karen thought was a witch. But they believed that Andrew was going to turn into a monster.
Kristy glanced at me and shrugged.
“All right,” I said, looking at my watch. “In a few seconds it will be ten o’clock. Let’s count down together, and you’ll see that Andrew is just Andrew.”
“Ten,” I said, “nine, eight” (the kids joined in nervously) “seven, six, five, four, three, two … one!”
“Aughh!” The kids had all covered their eyes and were screaming.
“Hey, Kristy. Whistle,” I told her.
Kristy put her fingers in her mouth and let loose with an ear-blasting whistle. Everyone stopped screaming. They looked at Andrew.
“Don’t growl,” I whispered fiercely to him. Andrew obeyed.
Slowly, things returned to normal. Jenny, however, seemed quite subdued. Later, Andrew saw us sitters fussing with Jenny about her smock again. “Put it on,” he told her impatiently.
Jenny’s eyes grew wide. She grabbed for the smock.
I grinned. “Andy,” I whispered, “tell her to wear it every time she comes to Stacey’s.”
“Grrr,” said Andrew. “You wear that … wear that every day.”
“Okay,” said Jenny. “Okay.”
Across the yard, I saw Karen cover her mouth with her hands and giggle.
One evening, when Mom and Dad came home from work, Mom was grinning. She looked like somebody who knew a secret.
“Hi, honey,” she said. “Oh, you started supper! Thank you. That’s wonderful.”
“You’ve been acting very responsibly lately,” Dad added.
Responsibility is sort of a touchy subject with my parents and me. For as long as I can remember, I’ve heard, “If you’d just do your homework when it’s assigned …” or, “If you’d be on time for once …” or, “If you’d just think ahead the way Janine does….”
And now Dad was telling me I was acting responsibly. Well, it was true that I’d started dinner several times recently, and I’d spent a lot of time with Mimi in the hospital. On the other hand, I’d given Mimi the stroke in the first place. I’d lost my temper and been rude to her. That certainly wasn’t very responsible.
“Hey, Mom, how come you’re smiling?” I asked. “Something happened, didn’t it?”
“I’ll say,” she replied. “Where’s your sister?”
“Guess.”
“Working at her computer.”
“Well, close. She’s upstairs studying, or at least she was earlier. Do you want me to get her?”
“Please. Dad and I will finish getting dinner ready.”
I ran upstairs. Janine’s door was closed, so I knocked on it.
“Come in!” she called.
“Thanks for helping me with dinner,” I greeted her sarcastically.
Janine frowned. “You didn’t tell me you were starting dinner. I woul
d have helped if I’d known.”
“Well, you have a watch, don’t you? It’s six o’clock. Couldn’t you have guessed?” But I felt bad. It was true. I hadn’t asked Janine for help, and I didn’t make dinner every night, so why should she have known?
“Have you come into my bedroom merely to torment me?” asked Janine. “Or do you have some other purpose?”
“Some other purpose,” I mumbled.
Janine was seated at her desk. Three fat textbooks were open in front of her. A half-filled sheet of lined paper was in her hand. At her feet were several balls of crumpled paper. She glanced at the paper in her hand, as if she couldn’t bear to keep her eyes off it for very long.
“Well?” said Janine.
“Mom said she has good news. She wants us to come downstairs right away.”
“Very well.”
Janine placed bookmarks in her texts and slid the paper into a folder. Then she followed me to the kitchen.
Mom and Dad were just dishing up the supper I’d started, which was frozen carrots (I mean, formerly frozen carrots), a lettuce salad, and baked chicken.
“Claudia says you have some news,” Janine said, slipping into her chair.
“Yes, we do,” replied Mom. She waited until the four of us were seated. Then she went on. “As you know, at first Mimi couldn’t move at all, though she has been able to move her left side a little bit recently. Well, today, using her left hand, she actually fed herself part of her lunch, and she tried to speak. Several times.”
“Oh, boy!” I cried. “That’s great! Isn’t it?”
“It was good enough to get her out of intensive care,” said Dad, smiling.
“Where is she now?” asked Janine. She was smiling, too. In fact, we were all smiling. We probably looked sort of goofy.
“She’s in a regular room,” Dad replied. “A private one.”
“Can we visit her tonight?” I asked.
“May we?” Janine, Mom, and Dad all corrected me at once.
“Sheesh,” I said. “May we visit her?”
“We certainly may,” said Mom.
With that, dinner was eaten in a jiffy. Janine had looked busy before, but we didn’t hear a peep from her about having to finish any work. She helped me pick a bouquet of flowers from our back garden for Mimi, and then the four of us were off to the hospital.
Claudia and Mean Janine Page 5