by Barbara Ebel
“You always do.”
“You can’t help it that you’re as pigeon-toed as a pigeon.”
Toby’s red hair stood on end and his face was flushed, partly from the sun and partly from running. His upper cheeks were dusted with tiny freckles that still peeked out of his slight sunburn. “Change into shorts and I’ll meet you out here in a few minutes.”
Jonathon skulked his way into his room, and Toby hurried into his. They soon materialized in dry summer clothes.
“Come on,” Jonathon said. “We only have fifteen minutes to meet our moms.”
Although it was their first visit to the Panhandle, they had a strong familiarity of the touristy area around where they were staying. The boys had picked other kids’ brains about the area … especially the “rich” kids who often took such vacations.
Plus, this trip was the highlight of Toby and Jonathon’s whole summer, as well as their mothers’. Anne Owens and her friend had flown down to Ft. Walton Beach with their sons, rented a car, and driven the short distance east. Both boys’ dads had given their blessing. For a change, the women were having a trip free of their husbands to shop, sunbathe, and drink margaritas.
The boys decided to avoid the main east-west thoroughfare of 98 and walked instead along the Destin Harbor Boardwalk. They came to a deck and an overhanging restaurant sign where a big palm tree grew out of the sand next to the steps going inside. Both boys scanned the open-air inside seating where they were supposed to meet their mothers for lunch, but didn’t spot them anywhere.
“They must still be shopping at the mall across the street,” Toby said.
“I don’t understand. There’s shopping in Ohio. Why buy stuff here when you can be chilling at the beach?”
Toby shrugged his shoulders. “My mom loves to shop. This is her vacation too. I guess they can do what they want.”
Two boys from inside the restaurant stepped down and sat on the same step as Toby and Jonathon. The two groups of boys still had space between them on the wide staircase.
“Hey,” one of the older boys said. He wore a pair of shorts that doubled as a bathing suit and had a scar on his forehead. He looked close to fourteen years old; his buddy seemed older too, and chewed a mint he swiped from a bowl back at the cashier’s counter.
“Have you been inside yet?” the same boy asked them.
“No,” Jonathon answered. “We’re waiting on our moms. We’re going to the go-kart track after lunch. Have you been there?”
“Of course. You two must be tourists.”
“We’re from Ohio. Isn’t everybody a tourist?”
“Not exactly. We live an hour away. The Gulf Coast is a regular trip for us.”
“Yeah,” the other boy spoke up. “As long as a family member is heading this way.”
“I’m hungry.” Jonathon turned back to look at the restaurant. “What’s to chow down on in there?”
“The best hush puppies and mudbugs anywhere,” the first boy said.
“Mudbugs?!” Jonathon exclaimed. “Eew. What are they?”
“Are you kidding me? You two are stupid out-of-towners. They’re crawfish.” He glanced at his friend for a better explanation.
“They’re freshwater crustaceans,” his buddy responded. “Like miniature lobsters. Chefs fry ‘em up along the coast in Creole seasoning.”
“They truly come out of the Louisiana mud,” the first boy emphasized.
“Yukk, they sound disgusting,” Jonathon said.
“Not any worse than that slug crawling along the bottom of the staircase,” he replied. “You two really are wimps. My buddy and I would eat that slug in a heartbeat if someone would bet us on it.”
Toby had had enough of listening to their ridicule. Just because he and Jonathon were from the north didn’t make them less adventurous. If the two boys from Florida could ingest mudbugs and slugs, so could the two of them.
“Why do you need a bet?” Toby asked. “Can’t you guzzle that thing down whether or not there’s money riding on it?”
“I dare you,” the first boy said. “And because you’re probably poor, my buddy and I will both chip in three dollars to watch you eat it.”
“In which case,” his friend said, “we’ll still have that money later to spend at the go-kart track next door.”
Toby was seething mad. He glanced at Jonathon, who acknowledged him with a nod. He studied the brown, slimy slug on the bottom board. It was almost an inch long. The thought of sliding it down his throat was disgusting, but not taking the dare would be worse to his ego. He wouldn’t even taste it if he put it in his mouth and swallowed. He would show them and he’d walk away with six bucks.
He moved his feet and slid his buttocks down to the next step. With a straight face, he picked up the shell-less mollusk. It recoiled slightly and Toby closed his eyes for a second. Opening them back up, he popped the thing in his mouth, worked it to the back of his throat, and swallowed with as much saliva as he could generate.
With a bemused smile, he patted his hands back and forth. “There. Hand it over. Six bucks.”
Jonathan scrunched up his face with disbelief and the two other boys shrugged like there was nothing to the dare.
“We’ve eaten worse,” the boy with the scar said. “But a bet’s a bet.” He dug his hand in his pocket. “Hey,” he motioned to his friend, “pay him and I’ll owe you. I don’t have any money.”
With a sigh of relief, Toby watched as the other boy pulled out the cash and forked it over to him. They made small talk for a while, their feud-like talk subsiding, until Anne Owens and Lucy Harmon showed up at the top of the steps and told the boys it was time for lunch.
Jonathon rose and said “bye” to the older youths. When he and Toby followed their mothers to a table, he whispered, “I can’t believe you did that, but I’m glad you did. Did it taste gross?”
“Not as bad as the thought of it.”
When they all sat down for lunch, neither boy mentioned to their mother the appetizer that Toby had already ingested.
-----
Mrs. Owens and her son left the pediatrician’s office after Toby’s appointment with Dr. Gillespie and drove straight home. It proved to be a gorgeous sunny day, perfect for the basketball game that Toby and his friends agreed on for that afternoon. Without much enthusiasm for his favorite peanut butter and jelly sandwich, he ate lunch and went to the solitude of his room.
Toby kicked off his shoes and plopped onto his bed. He had actually made his bed that morning, but there wasn’t much else in the room that looked that neat. Dirty clothes hung on the back of his chair, sneakers and socks were strewn on the floor, and two sets of earbuds were tangled up on his nightstand. A thumbtack had fallen out of his bulletin board and a poster was dangling in midair. And although he had emptied his clothes to be washed from his Florida vacation two weeks ago, his suitcase was open and empty on the floor.
The youth yanked the pillow out of the covers and propped it behind him. The thought of going to the nearby park to shoot some baskets became less and less inviting to him. His bed felt too damn comfortable.
He crossed his ankles and heard the landline phone ring out in the hallway. His mother answered, rapped on his door, and stuck her head in. “Jonathon’s on the phone.”
Toby padded to the door with a grimace. Half the kids his age were walking around with their own cell phones, but his parents were not springing for his until he turned thirteen. “Thanks, Mom.” He turned back with the portable.
“What’s up?” Toby said.
“I thought you’d be here by now.”
Toby glanced over at his digital clock. “If you’re at the park, you’re fifteen minutes early.”
“So? What else is there to do? We can warm up before the other guys get here.”
“I only just got home.”
“Where’ve you been?”
“I got my school physical out of the way. I hate going to the doctor’s office.”
“I don’t
mind it. My mother takes me to Dr. Clark. She’s really cool and funny sometimes.”
“I know her. She’s in the office with my pediatrician, Dr. Gillespie. Maybe I could change doctors.”
“I bet your mother won’t do that. What don’t you like about him?”
Back on his bed, Toby put one knee over the other and rubbed his calf with his free hand. “I don’t know. He’s too quiet and seems odd. At least my mother was with me in the exam room today.”
“You’re the one who’s odd. So how’d your physical go? Did you manage to get out of going back to school?” Jonathon laughed. “Maybe I can come up with some lame excuse on my doctor’s visit to stall sixth grade!”
“That’s a lame idea. I already passed my school physical.”
A lull surfaced in the conversation. Toby switched the phone into his left hand, switched legs, and massaged his left calf with his right hand.
“So what’s taking you so long?”
Their other friend, Robby, sprinted into their local sports building and pointed his thumbs up at Jonathon.
“All right already, I’m on my way.” Toby placed the phone back in the cradle outside his room and weaved his way through the neighborhood to the county office buildings and community center. After signing in, he stepped into the basketball court.
Without a hello, Robby pitched him the ball. “It’s not like you to be the last one here.”
Toby dribbled the ball to warm up, and then Jonathon put his hands on his hips after waiting too long for his buddy to throw or toss the ball.
“Doesn’t walking over here count as a warm-up?” Jonathan asked.
Toby scowled and ran to the basket, but his shooting hand wasn’t in line with the rim and he made a lousy shot. For the next ten minutes, Jonathon and Robby had complete control of the ball. They sprang up like their sneakers were light-footed appendages and they were mustering up as much fun as possible, pushing away the thought of school starting soon.
Toby continued, giving the sport and his friends his best attempt. But he wasn’t sure if his heart wasn’t in the game or if it was his body. He went to the wall and slid down to the floor.
“What are you doing?” Jonathon asked, bouncing the ball in front of him.
Toby flexed his knees and wrapped his arms around them. “Watching your sneakers toe in. I swear you do it even when you’re in the air in the middle of a shot!”
Jonathon brushed off his remark and kept working the ball. “Time’s up.”
“I gotta rest my legs. I must be tired.”
Robby wiped some sweat off his forehead. “Why don’t you go buy a banana from the snack bar inside? My mom says they help when you’re playing sports and your potassium gets low.”
“Come on,” Jonathon said. “We’ll go with you.”
-----
A little after 5 p.m., Dr. Gillespie hung his white coat on a hook behind the front desk and noticed the students. “Unless Dr. Clark needs you two, you’re finished for the day. Be back bright and early at 8 a.m.” He nodded at his employees to do the same. He was the first to leave work behind, his small-scale steps like a pigmy’s as he went out the door.
“If I remember correctly,” Heather Clark said to the students, “the first day of a new rotation can be overwhelming. Not that either of you had a difficult day today. I’m referring to the volume and scope of material you need to ingest over the next few weeks. These two weeks will be your easier part before you do your pediatric stint, with overnight call, in the hospital. So, I suggest taking as much time in the beginning to read.”
Annabel and Stuart followed her into the kitchenette. Heather was slightly overweight and had full robust cheeks and a warm smile. Annabel already assumed that her young patients opened up to her quite easily.
“Dr. Clark,” Annabel said, “do you have any words of advice about pediatrics for Stuart and me?”
“Sure. Sit down. The best thing to do in peds is to segregate your patients in your mind. In internal medicine, you can categorize patients into adult, middle-aged folks, and the distinct elderly geriatric patients. But a child is way more compartmentalized because they are growing and developing. We deal with infancy, preschoolers, middle childhood years, and adolescence. And each of those periods can be categorized into their own developmental milestones. In pediatrics, we must know what’s normal for the age in question because that then allows us to spot what’s abnormal. Which in turn allows us to diagnose and potentially correct or thwart a medical problem that could become worse.”
Stuart nodded and Annabel leaned back in her chair.
“As far as growth, there is a basic pattern that is normal. A surprising fact is that after an infant is born, they will initially lose weight, a whole five to ten percent of their birth weight. Then by about two weeks old, that infant should start gaining weight and grow quickly, so that by four to six months old, the infant’s weight should have doubled. I always find it amusing when parents come in with their baby, exclaiming how big he or she grew during that time, as if theirs is unique like a superhero character.
“Ha.” Heather chuckled. “Once, a father came in holding his infant on his shoulders and proclaimed he was raising the next Superman. His wife told him to quit bragging or other parents would put kryptonite in the waiting room.
“However, the second half of the first year, growth is not as dramatic, and then, at the toddler age of one to two, and up to age five, they’ll gain about five pounds per year. The child’s development should remain steady, but then a final growth spurt should take off.”
“Puberty?” Stuart guessed.
“Sure thing. Between nine and fifteen. Imagine, also, the nutrient needs during these ages. That small infant growing like a weed needs a lot of calories in relation to its size and, later, the same thing happens with the adolescent.
“A healthy child will fall into a normal growth curve and yet follow his or her own individual pattern. In my opinion, never in a human being’s life are healthy diet habits more important than in the pediatric population. Parents play a significant role to prevent problems for their children, especially obesity.
“If kids aren’t eating a proper diet, they’ll be tired at school, be slow to learn, or get sick. I try to encourage parents to send their kids to school after a decent breakfast.”
Dr. Clark scooted her iPhone close and picked it up. “Even though this information is well known to me, I carry the data with me. I will, however, give both of you a paper copy separate from what you can find in your textbook.” She tapped on an app and handed it to Annabel.
Annabel scrolled the list of developmental milestones, each one specific for each age. Four, nine, twelve, and eighteen months were listed as well as two to five, and then a preschooler, school-age, and a puberty and adolescent developmental list. She handed Heather’s phone to Stuart. “I never gave this information much thought. Like you alluded to, you are taking care of a glut of patients with these age-specific growth periods and developmental milestones. What if you miss something?”
“Exactly,” Heather said.
“I had a patient on OB,” Annabel said, “who delivered a girl who was soon diagnosed with osteogenesis imperfecta. The pediatrician caught that abnormality right away with DNA testing.”
“Which is the way it should be. That baby’s brittle bones will probably change her progression on her growth curve, but the doctors will know about it.”
Stuart finished scrolling the list and handed it back to Dr. Clark. She grinned at the students. “I hope I didn’t keep you two too long.”
“On the contrary,” Annabel said. “Time spent with you was more fruitful than that time buried in a book.”
Heather rose. “Tomorrow then.” But before they left, she handed them the paper she promised them.
CHAPTER 4
Annabel stood on the porch of the pediatrician’s office, leaning against one of the stately white vertical columns. She scrolled to the car service app on her ph
one to schedule a ride home.
Stuart looked back from the bottom step. “You want a ride home?”
“I wouldn’t want you to go out of your way.”
“Come on,” he said as he waved.
Never invited to ride in Stuart’s vintage car before, Annabel bounded down the steps. The black 1984 Jaguar coupe was parked in the back of the building in the corner and Stuart ran his eyes over all four sides.
“Do you check her over every time?” Annabel asked.
“Routinely. Somehow, she’s still ding-free and squeaky clean.”
Annabel got in on the opposite side and settled into the tan interior leather. “How many miles does it have?”
“Eighty thousand.”
“Nice.”
“Your car will record a low odometer reading too if you keep calling Uber to ride you back and forth on your rotations.”
“Yeah, but my car is just transportation. My SUV is not a Jaguar.”
Stuart smiled and started the ignition while Annabel took out her iPhone. He peered over at her. “Which one are you calling?”
Annabel made a face at him and Stuart raised his eyebrows.
“It’s a legitimate question,” he said. “Are you calling our medical student friend or your boyfriend; or vice versa whichever.”
“Stuart! More and more, people are giving me grief about who’s who. For once and for all, Bob is my medical school friend. And yours too. And Dustin is my boyfriend.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Let’s compare notes with Bob. He can tell us about the first day of hospital pediatrics and we can fill him in on Gillespie and Clark’s private practice.” She tapped his number and he answered right away.
“Hey, Stuart and I are finished for the day. How about you?”
“Just leaving. I never expected to be out before six. Can’t complain.”
“I have an idea. How about I walk Oliver and we all meet at Pete’s Café?” She glanced at Stuart.
“Good idea,” Bob said. “See you soon.”
Stuart nodded when she got off the phone. “I’ll eat with you two.”