"And exhale slowly," Dr. Blackfeather instructed Zach the next morning, placing his cold stethoscope against Zach's back.
It made Zach itch with irritation all over. The doctor had touched his knees, elbows, chest, head, and back. He had stuck things in Zach's ears and mouth. He had pressed different places on his belly. None of it had hurt, exactly. It just felt…wrong, strange, annoying. It made Zach want to jump up from the examination table and run away. But he stayed…because he'd decided to…because Mom and Dad wanted him to. This was important to them.
"Good," the doctor said. He dropped his stethoscope's earpieces around his neck. "Well, Mr. Zach, you are one remarkable young man. Your health appears to be excellent. And five years ago, you would never have let me check so many parts of you without trying to squirm away. You've grown up a lot."
Mom smiled proudly at Zach. She had been watching him, knowing he was uncomfortable. "Does he need any vaccinations?" she asked Dr. Blackfeather. "We don't know if he's had any since the last time he saw you."
"I'll take a look," the doctor replied. He had been keeping notes about Zach on his computer, and now he scanned Zach's file there again. "No, it looks like he's up to date until next year."
Zach spoke. "Dad, what about that disease you told me about when I cut my fingers that first night?"
"Tetanus," Dad said. "Has he had his Tetanus shots?"
"He has," Dr. Blackfeather confirmed. "Everything we gave him for kindergarten covers him until next year. Except the flu vaccine, of course. That one you have to get every year."
"Is it a shot?" Zach asked with worry in his voice.
"It is," the doctor smiled sympathetically. "I'll go get that for him, if you like," he said to Mom and Dad. "And I'll get you a printout of his medical records."
Mom nodded. "Yes, please."
Dr. Blackfeather punched a few keys on the computer and turned to the door. "I'll be right back."
As he left the room, Dad hopped up onto the examination table beside Zach. "Way to be tough, pal," he said. "That didn't look like much fun for you."
Zach shrugged. "If I concentrate, I can make it be okay, almost. Do I really have to get a shot?"
"Yeah, you really do," Mom told him. "It could keep you from getting sick later."
"Don't worry," Dad encouraged him. "I've been getting shots for years, and I've only had one that hurt really bad."
Zach's eyes widened. "What happened?"
"It was always the nurses who gave the shots, but that one time my doctor did it himself. When he pushed the needle in—"
"Craig," Mom warned, "maybe another time, don't you think?"
But Zach urged him on. "What, Dad?"
Dad rubbed his shoulder, wincing at the memory. "I didn't scream, but I sure wanted to. I had a bruise on my shoulder for a week."
Zach winced, too, and rubbed his own shoulder.
"Nice job, Craig," Mom sighed. "That was reassuring."
Dr. Blackfeather returned, carrying a folder full of papers in one hand and a syringe in the other. He handed the papers to Dad, who reclaimed his seat beside Mom. They immediately began sifting through them.
At the counter along the wall behind Zach, the doctor fetched something Zach couldn't see. "Okay, let me have your shoulder…" He swabbed a spot on Zach's skin with whatever he had picked up—something cold, wet, and soft. It failed to distract Zach from the needle, which he eyed warily. "This will hurt just a little. A deep breath…"
Zach sucked in some air just in time, preparing himself for the worst. The needle stung, but the pain subsided instantly. A moment later, the doctor had fixed a circular bandage over the site of the injection. Zach ran a finger across the spot; it hardly hurt at all. Relieved, he released the breath he had been holding, grateful that he didn't have Dad's doctor.
"All done, Zach. Here you go," Dr. Blackfeather told him, tossing him his shirt. Zach pulled it on over his head.
Dad suddenly sat up straight, his eyes growing round. "Kara!" He held up a paper for Mom to see. "Rhonda Lerwick," Dad read. "And there's her signature."
"Yes," Dr. Blackfeather nodded, "Lerwick. That was her name."
"What do you remember about her?" Mom asked.
The doctor stroked his chin, one arm across his chest. "Mid to late forties. A little shorter than you, Mrs. Fleming. Dark blond hair down to her shoulders… Always seemed nervous. But Zach was comfortable around her."
"Do you remember her name, Zach?" Mom asked.
Zach shook his head. "I don't think so. But I remember she had blond hair. And some gray hair, too, when she moved away."
"Hmm…" Mom continued to peruse the papers before her.
"Can I go look at the fish?" Zach asked.
Dad looked up long enough to give him a nod.
The adults continued talking as Zach left the room and walked the length of the hall to the waiting room. Against one wall stood a large aquarium; two full-size trout swam from one end of it to the other, occasionally passing through a line of rising bubbles.
"Hi, guys," he greeted them. He hadn't had time to visit with them upon his arrival. "Remember me? I haven't seen you for a long time. You were my best friends when I was little. Well, not counting Grandmother." He watched them flick their tails and swim back and forth, opening and closing their mouths.
After a few minutes, Mom and Dad joined him, offered their goodbyes to Dr. Blackfeather, and led Zach outside to Mom's car.
"Where do we start, Craig?" Mom asked.
Dad was thinking hard—Zach could see it in his eyes. He was learning to tell what Dad and Mom were thinking just by looking at them. Maybe someday he could learn to read minds as well as Mom did.
"The Internet, I think," Dad told Mom. "We have a name now. We'll find her."
*****
The Boy Who Appeared from the Rain Page 77