I sighed. I’d already described everything about my bug’s eyes just about as well as I could.
“Is it bothering you that I’m recording this?” he asked.
“No.” I was all about science after all. I was tired, stressed, and I couldn’t escape the heavy feeling that I had disappointed everyone.
“You were talking about another color. Can you elaborate on that at all?”
Inwardly groaning, I did my best to explain the color. “And it makes me kind of hungry,” I admitted.
“Really,” he said, as another truck flew past us. “Fascinating.”
“Does this place look like a deserted insane asylum to you?” I asked Finn as we went through the entrance gate. “Or is that just from my buggy vision.”
“The appearance to the outside world discourages curious visitors,” Finn said. “Inside, you’ll find a fully equipped modern hospital facility. Remember that your appearance is also disguised while you are here in order to keep you from benefiting from the volunteer work.”
“Do I still have the bug eyes?”
“Yes, but you’re a stocky redhead.”
“Great.”
“You will go by the name Chloe.”
“Chloe?”
“It sounds enough like your name for you to answer to it.”
I guess.
Finn put the car in park and came around to open the door for me. Then he grabbed my suitcase from the trunk. “Don’t forget to text your mother twice a day.”
“You aren’t going in?”
“I have to send you in by yourself. You’re looking for Carly, the volunteer coordinator. She’s expecting you.”
I gave Finn a hug, holding on to him for a minute or two before I managed to pull myself together and say goodbye.
“Your mother will pick you up on the thirty-first,” he said.
I nodded. Then I turned toward the front doors, and rolling my suitcase behind me, walked toward my penance.
I stepped through the door to find myself in a busy, modern hospital. Nurses rushed through the lobby wearing the cartoon-embellished uniforms worn at any pediatrician’s office. An elderly lady sat at an information desk inside the door.
“Hi,” I said. “I’m here to see Carly.”
“Wonderful!” The lady beamed at me as if I were an angel instead of a delinquent about to serve her sentence. “Have a seat, and I’ll let her know you’ve arrived.”
I waited about ten minutes but didn’t stay seated. I couldn’t see much if I stayed by the door, so I walked around, watching parents walk through on their way to the cafeteria which was right off the lobby and doctors in white coats talking quietly to family members in the adjoining glassed-in surgery waiting area.
So far, The Hospital hadn’t proved to be frightening.
Carly was tall and thin with a big smile. “I can’t tell you how much your time means to us, Chloe. This is a horrible time of year for finding volunteers. Many of the parents have obligations at home with their other children, and we rarely have young people available to help out. The children and other teens do so well with the younger volunteers.”
“I’m excited to be here.” I was warming to the idea. It was nice to be needed.
“Grab your suitcase and I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping, and then we’ll get you some uniforms to use.”
I followed Carly to an elevator and down to basement 3. The fluorescent lighting and white floors didn’t dispel the creepiness of being so far underground.
“We try not to use this floor for patients,” she said. “It’s not as cheerful down here without any natural light. So we use this wing for our volunteers.” She opened the door to room B3-91 and ushered me in. The room had a twin bed, a wardrobe, an adjoining bathroom, and a television mounted on the wall. “You can leave your things here. I’ll give you a key to the door so that you’ll have some privacy.”
She handed me the key, and I slipped it in my pocket. Then I set down my things and went to the hall, and she locked the door with her master key. “Now we’ll tour the facility and you can grab some lunch. You can pick up your uniforms after that.”
This place wasn’t so bad. It was lonely, and it wasn’t home. It wasn’t disturbing or frightening like I’d feared.
Moments after I’d had that thought, a boy with a giant elephant head walked slowly by us. He had some combination of traction and a walker which supported the weight of the giant head. I considered my bug eyes. I was lucky all right.
As Carly led me down the young children’s wing, I heard crying and then screaming. My chest tightened. How was I supposed to help out here when every noise and sight freaked me out?
Later I met Carly in the cafeteria to have dinner with the other volunteers. She was standing at a table where two guys and three girls were sitting. They all appeared to be teens or in their early twenties. They weren’t seeing me though. They saw a chubby redhead when they looked at me. All five of them stared at my bug eyes. I tried to pinpoint their punishments. One of the guys had lobster claws for hands. The other had an alligator tail that stretched out behind his stool for at least six feet. I couldn’t see anything wrong with the girls. Was I the only “bad” girl here?
Carly waved the folders she held to motion for me to sit in one of the empty chairs at the large table. After I sat, she spoke, “Normally we have a significant amount of overlap, and the new arrivals can be paired with a volunteer who has been here longer. We’ve found this technique invaluable in helping you adjust. Since it’s the holidays, we are short on help.” She glanced down at the top folder and handed it to the guy with the claw. Then she handed each of us a folder with our name on it. “Go ahead and open them. Each of you will be working with one room of children, and I’ve given you a brief description of each child and their particular needs. Try to learn their names by morning. You’ll eat here at six a.m. and then report to the assigned room by seven.
“For those of you who are working off selfish magic, I have included an estimate about when you can expect to physically return to normal.”
I turned to the page with my estimate. I couldn’t read the small print. Sighing with frustration, I closed the folder.
“You may select anything you like for dinner,” Carly said. “Then you may choose to spend the evening however you like.” She smiled. “Once you finish familiarizing yourself with the children’s profiles.” Then she left.
The guy with the claw scowled at the other girls. “What’s up with you guys? Why are you even here? Are you actually here voluntarily?”
The blonde girl sneered back. “They need some of their help to be fully functional. How much help can you really be with those crawdad hands?”
“Lobster hands,” he mumbled back.
The girl turned her attention to me. “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to be rude to you. Just him.”
“I’m starving,” Alligator Boy said. He stood, revealed that his tail was supported by a small cart with wheels. “I’m getting food.”
The skinny girl with frizzy, curly hair stayed behind when the rest of them went to eat.
“Do you want me to read that for you?” she asked.
I didn’t, but I had no choice. “I’m Z—Chloe,” I said.
“Frannie,” she said.
I handed her my folder.
“You should be back to normal by Wednesday.”
Wednesday. I had been afraid I’d have to wait much longer.
Frannie read the description of each of the kids. I had some serious work ahead of me. “I can come to your room after we eat if you want,” she offered. “I can read it again, and you can copy it down in a size you can see.”
“Thank you,” I said. “You are a lifesaver.”
Alligator Boy returned with his food and sat down.
“You ready?” Frannie asked, motioning with her head to the food line.
“I guess.” I stood and walked out to wait for her before going up for dinner.
I smiled at her.
She looked uncertain. “Ridiculous, I know,” she said.
“No,” I told her. “I’m just glad I’m not the only ‘bad’ girl here.”
A grin spread over her face.
“What was your estimate?” I asked.
“Friday,” she said.
I wondered what she had done, but I didn’t ask. Instead I headed toward the trays and silverware as Frannie ambled along behind me.
Frannie worked with me until I’d learned the information about each child. It wasn’t until she left to go to her own room that the melancholy set in. I was bored, lonely, and restless all at once. I couldn’t stop thinking about the Council deciding the fate of my powers. I couldn’t sleep. Watching television was impossible with my vision issues. I tried reading, but even with the text so large that only one word fit on each page, I couldn’t manage.
Jake was probably mad that our Christmas celebration was cut short, and now he’d be completely baffled by my sudden “visit” with my grandparents. My efforts hadn’t done my mother any good, and I’d disappointed Finn. Then there was the mess with Anya.
I cried for hours. Crying didn’t provide the usual comfort because, for some reason, my bug eyes didn’t make any tears. Exhaustion and sorrow overwhelmed me, and I finally slept.
Frannie stood just inside the cafeteria when I walked in the next morning.
“I am so glad to see you,” I said.
She grinned. “I’m eating pancakes today,” she said. “I never allow myself to.”
“Good idea.” I took her lead and loaded my tray with every breakfast food I could possibly want.
We sat at the same table, off to the side, but none of the others showed up.
“There’s Alligator Boy,” I said as he got a tray and got in line.
Frannie laughed at first, but then she gave me a questioning look. “Please tell me you don’t call me Monkey Girl.”
In horror, I said, “No! Never. You’re awesome. I call you Frannie.”
She relaxed and we ate until he joined us.
“Hi,” I said. “I’m Chloe and this is Frannie.”
He sat down. “Nice to meet you.”
“What’s your name?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I am not using the name they gave me. Forget it.”
“Jeez,” Frannie said. “How bad can it be?”
He didn’t respond.
“If it’s what you really want, we’ll keep calling you Alligator Boy.”
I gasped. She did not just say that.
Alligator Boy smiled. “Fine by me.”
“Are you serious?” Frannie asked.
He nodded. “I think it has a nice ring to it.”
Frannie and I exchanged looks. This guy was a nut.
When I reported to my assigned room, I made sure to plaster a smile on my face. The five kids in the room ranged from an eight-year-old girl with dragon feet that were too heavy for her to lift to a fifteen-year-old boy with giant bat wings who slept in a modified bed to accommodate the clumsy appendages. The folder indicated that he hated being fed, but he didn’t have a choice. Johnny’s profile included a special note from Carly asking me to work very hard to convince him because they were low on nurses right now. I’d never fed another person.
“Good morning!” I hoped my voice sounded confident and cheerful. “My name is Chloe and I’m going to be hanging out with you guys for a while.”
The younger ones called out greetings, but Johnny refused to look at me.
How was I going to feed him breakfast if I couldn’t even get him to make eye contact?
“Will you read us a story after we eat?” Hannah with the dragon feet asked. “Please.”
My imminent failure as a volunteer became clear. “I, um…” I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t disappoint the girl.
I raised my head so I wasn’t seeing any of the kids. As I struggled for composure, I became aware of another set of eyes looking at me.
When I glanced over, Johnny was staring.
“She can’t see enough to read because she has those wiggy eyes,” he told Hannah.
“Oh,” Hannah said.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I really am.”
The girl actually started crying.
“Maybe you could read to us,” I suggested, desperate to stop her tears.
“She likes to be read to,” Johnny said. Then he let out a loud sigh. “Don’t cry, Hannah. I can read to you if Chloe turns the pages for me.”
Hannah brightened.
“Perfect!” I said. “After everybody eats.”
I watched for his answer. We both knew what I was asking of him.
With a slight nod, he agreed.
He was going to let me feed him! I wasn’t such a failure after all.
My Christmas morning started with a breakfast of Belgian waffles in the cafeteria. Then I got to make five waffles for the kids I’d been working with. I had one chocolate lover’s delight, one with extra whipped cream and red and green sprinkles, one with caramel and M&M’s, a fresh strawberries and cream, and a banana split version with one scoop of vanilla ice cream. I carried the double-stacked trays to the elevator and up to the fourth floor. I’d gotten good at navigating the maze of hospital rooms, especially after my bug eyes turned human late Tuesday afternoon. None of them had been out of bed without help since I’d arrived. I passed out their special breakfasts and then went to sit by Johnny, the bat winged kid, in order to feed him his.
The door to the room was propped open so I burst in with my trays and said, “Merry Christmas!”
“Chloe!”
“Yay!”
After they ate, I’d have thirty minutes to talk to my mother and grandmother on the phone. Other than being lonely at night, I wasn’t too miserable here. I hadn’t heard about the Council’s decision yet, but I figured not knowing was probably part of my punishment. I had thrown myself into my work in order to keep away the thoughts of six years without powers.
Six days later, Mom picked me up at eight a.m. I had packed easily and donned my own clothes, the same ones I’d worn when I arrived, for the first time in ten days. I hadn’t been able to sleep last night, so I’d volunteered to sit with Henry. He was miserable because his twin had left yesterday, and he still had horse hooves for feet and hands. He’d come a long way though, and the doctors thought he’d be able to leave in a couple of days.
“Mommy!” I yelled throwing myself in her arms.
“I missed you too! Was it that bad? You’re so traumatized that I’m Mommy again.”
“It wasn’t terrible, but I missed you!”
“I’m so glad you’re finally coming home. And I have some good news. You impressed the Council with your work here. They want you to come back and work Spring Break, but they aren’t taking your powers.”
I screeched with happiness.
“Hospital, Zoe. Quiet zone. Get in the car and we’ll get on the road.”
“I’m so glad to hear my real name again! I’ve been Chloe forever.”
“Tell me everything,” Mom said.
We arrived in Knoxville before we finished catching up on everything. Three hours of solid talking.
“I need a shower, and a nap,” I said when we got home.
“Get some rest. I hear Jake has big plans for you tonight!”
Chapter Seventeen
My shower, my shampoo, my yummy-smelling soap and fluffy purple towel… all of the things I used to take for granted made me as happy as a normal kid on Christmas morning. Dressing in one of my favorite dresses, a deep blue that hit above the knee, I thrilled in the feel of actual clothes instead of the scratchy scrubs. I spun around and around in front of the mirror. I hadn’t fixed my hair or put on blush and
lipstick since I’d left, and I was glad to see a relatively pretty girl staring back at me in the mirror. Bye-bye bug eyes.
After adding earrings and a cute pair of shoes, I was ready to go.
Dad and Jake appeared at the front door almost an hour early.
“Dibs,” Dad said to Jake, and he hugged me first. “I missed you, honey.”
“I missed you too,” I said and squeezed him tight before moving to Jake and hugging him too.
“You look amazing,” Jake said, kissing me on the cheek.
He wore a suit, and I could identify with the love-sick dogs who’d jumped on Mom because I was ready to lick his cheek and drool all over him.
Jake drove, and Dad sat in the back. “Pretend I’m not here,” Dad said.
We might have tried if it weren’t for his incessant throat clearing whenever he thought Jake wasn’t driving the way he should be.
We finally arrived at the Knoxville Convention Center, and Jake put the car in park. He came around to help me out of the car, and Dad assumed the driver’s seat.
“We’re eating a seven course meal, and then the dancing will start,” Jake said. “Everybody says it is supposed to be magical.”
“It will be,” I said, squeezing his hand.
Beautiful Christmas trees dripped with elegant ornaments and lighting. The perfect taste of Christmas to make up for my last ten days. The ballroom was a true winter wonderland, and I couldn’t think of a better word to sum up the ambiance than magical.
“I’m glad you got to visit your grandmother, Zoe, but I missed you like crazy,” Jake said as our salads were served. “I can’t believe she doesn’t have cell service or internet. I thought there were cell towers everywhere.”
“I guess not,” I said with a shrug.
“I didn’t get to tell you how much I loved the gift.”
“Me too. It was perfect.”
“I did good?” he asked with a grin.
“You did good,” I said.
He lifted his glass of tea and handed me mine. “To us,” he said.
We clinked glasses and my entire body buzzed with excitement as I gazed into his blue eyes.
Trouble's Brewing (Stirring Up Trouble) Page 21