Hope Girl (11 page)

Dr. Crane rubs his chin. “Three months… that means you've gained a significant curve in a short amount of time.” He raises his eyebrows at Rosa. “Tell you what, River. I'm going to send you down the hall to get an X-ray. Then we'll talk.”

Rosa and I leave for the X-ray department. I try pulling my gown to my knees, but it doesn't reach. “I feel weird walking down the hall in this stupid gown.”

Rosa smiles. “I know. Just try thinking of it as a little sundress.”

Little, I think, is the key word. Not to mention ugly. I better not see anyone.

The X-ray technician explains everything. Basically all I have to do is stand completely still while she takes pictures with the X-ray machine. She takes one from the front, then the side, and I'm done. I didn't have to smile (I wouldn't have, anyway).

After the X-rays develop, we bring them back to Dr. Crane. Since they're big, I insist on carrying them (if I see someone, at least I've got something to hide behind).

Dr. Crane slides my X-rays onto a light board. I've seen pictures of skeletons before but not my own. It's weird seeing what you look like beneath your skin.

Even if Dr. Crane didn't point it out, I can clearly see how
crooked my spine is. It looks like the letter S. And Gram was right—one hip and shoulder is higher than the other. How could I not have noticed?

Dr. Crane uses a special ruler on the X-rays to measure my curves. When he's done, he sits on his stool. “River, when will your father be back in town?”

“Tomorrow.”

Rosa interrupts. “Actually, later this evening.”

“Hmmm,” he says. “River, go ahead and get dressed. Rosa and I will step outside.” They leave the room, closing the door all but a crack.

As I yank off the stupid gown and throw my clothes on, I overhear Dr. Crane. “If her spine was straight three months ago, her scoliosis progressed rapidly. Normally at a patient's first appointment, I don't suggest bracing. I have them return in a month and reassess the situation. But in River's case, I wouldn't wait. I don't want her curves progressing to the point of needing surgery.” Dr. Crane clears his throat. “I'll talk with her father tomorrow.”

They come back as I slip my last sneaker on.

After my appointment, Rosa drives me to the Whippoorwills'. We're both quiet. I feel like I should talk and ask about Carlos, but I don't. My head's too crowded with stuff to worry about.

Rosa opens her window, letting hot muggy air blow through the car. “Are you doing okay, River?” she says. When I don't answer, she turns toward me. “I'm pretty sure if I were in your shoes, I'd feel scared.”

I stare out the window. “I'm not.”

“No?” She says, sounding surprised.

“No,” I say again, feeling guilty for lying. “I'm sure my back isn't as bad as Dr. Crane thinks. Besides, my dad won't want me wearing a brace, anyway.”

Rosa nods. “I'd probably wish that too. But I want you to know Dr. Crane is a good doctor.”

We drive again without talking.

Rosa adjusts her mirror. “Did I mention I have a son about your age?”

“You said you have a son, but that's all.”

“His name's Carlos,” she says. “An amazing kid, and almost fourteen. He'll probably be in your classes come September.”

“He's a year older, so I doubt it. I'll only be in eighth.”

“Same as Carlos since he missed a year.”

“Did that bother him?”

“Not really,” she says. “He had bigger things to deal with at the time. Now he's just glad to be in school again.”

“What happened?”

Rosa takes a deep breath. “He was severely burned in a scouting accident—it's a miracle he's alive. He got trapped in a tent fire and was burnt from head to toe. He spent months in the hospital having surgeries for skin grafts and going through therapy. He had to relearn some of the most basic things like how to walk, get dressed, even feed himself. And because the scars completely changed his appearance, he needed counseling. He doesn't look like the Carlos we knew… more like a creature from another planet. But under that twisted, blotchy skin is the same Carlos. Unfortunately most people have a hard time looking beneath it.”

I can't think of anything to say except, “Maybe I could meet him sometime.”

Rosa smiles. “I think he'd like that.”

We reach the Whippoorwills', and Rosa shuts off her car. She comes in to talk with Uncle Henry and Aunt Elizabeth, but I go right to Billy's room and flop on his bed. Zoey rubs against me, her way of saying she's glad to see me.

I hear Rosa repeat everything Dr. Crane said, so I put Billy's pillow over my head. I don't want to hear it again. I close my eyes and fall asleep with Zoey.

By the time I wake up, it's completely dark. I must have slept through supper. And the house is quiet, so the Little Whippoorwills must already be in bed. Then I hear voices. It's hard to tell who it is since they're whispering. I hold still and listen. Sounds like Uncle Henry, Aunt Elizabeth—and Dad. I jump out of bed and hurry downstairs. I turn into the kitchen, and he's there with my aunt and uncle and Rosa. Why is she here again?

I hurry to Dad and wrap my arms around him. “You're home!”

He stands and wraps me in a hug. “I couldn't get back fast enough.”

Aunt Elizabeth pulls out a chair for me. “I saved your supper,” she says, setting a plate in front of me.

Dad squeezes my shoulder. “Sounds like you've had quite a time. Rosa said you're volunteering and told me about your doctor's appointment.”

“Everything I was going to tell you.” I move the meatloaf and mashed potatoes around my plate, making it look like I ate some. “Anyway,” I tell Dad, “my doctor's appointment wasn't a big deal.”

He raises his eyebrow. “Not from what I hear. In fact, I'm meeting with Dr. Crane tomorrow morning. You're welcome to come, or you can volunteer as you planned.”

“I'll volunteer.”

He gives me a wink.

When Rosa leaves, everyone goes to bed. Dad's exhausted from driving all day, so instead of going back to Gram's house, he'll sleep on the couch and I'll sleep in Billy's room again.

I sit on Billy's bed and write in my diary.

Monday July 11, 1983

Dear Diary:

Today started out good (my first day of volunteering) and ended with something not good (my appointment with Dr. Crane).

At least I found out more about Carlos. And after hearing what he's been through, my problems don't seem so big. Rosa said most people have trouble looking beneath his skin … I don't want to be like them. Today when I saw my X-ray, I saw beneath mine—it wasn't hard to do.

Signed,

River

15

Secrets

O
n Tuesday morning, Ms. Ruddy's already bustling around the activity room. “Good morning, River,” she says. “Just as Mondays are bingo days, Tuesdays are paint-by-number days.” She hands me a box of paint-by-number kits to put around the table. Each kit is different. When the residents arrive, they pick the one they like. Gram tries trading for the only unicorn but gets stuck with a polka-dotted mushroom (and she's not happy about it).

I walk around the table helping residents open their paints, read the numbers, and clean any spills.

Next thing I know, Ms. Ruddy pulls me aside. “Maybe you can talk some sense into that Mrs. Nuthatch—she won't listen to a word I say. She won't match her paint to the corresponding number, she's complaining about the polka-dotted mushroom, and now she's using her paints to give Myrtle a pedicure. I didn't expect she'd be so difficult (apparently Ms. Ruddy still hasn't realized that difficult resident, Mrs. Nuthatch, is my grandmother).

I walk over to Gram. Sure enough, she's painting Myrtle's toenails bright yellow number six, the color meant for the mushroom's polka-dots. “Gram, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like, Sugar Pie? I'm giving Myrtle a pedicure. At least it's therapeutic—a lady needs to feel good about her feet.”

“But, Gram, that's not what you're supposed to be doing.”

“Oh, fiddlesticks, Sugar Pie. Painting a polka-dotted mushroom ain't therapeutic, and I'm not gonna pretend like it is!”

Just then Dad pokes his head in the room. When Gram sees him she shouts, “Well, if it ain't Blue Jay.”

Ms. Ruddy says to Gram, “Is that man a relative?”

Gram answers, “Why he's the son I've always dreamt of.”

Then Dad steps in, shakes Ms. Ruddy's hand, and tells her, “I'm Jay Whippoorwill, River's father.”

Well, Ms. Ruddy's face turns bright red number twelve (and if I'm not mistaken, it looks as if she'd like to crawl under the activities table and hide), but she turns to me and says, “That means… ”

I finish her sentence, “Mrs. Nuthatch is my grandmother.”

Ms. Ruddy covers her mouth. “Oh my!”

Dad says to her, “May I speak with River for a moment?”

“Go right ahead, sir.”

I step outside the activity room with Dad. “River,” he says, “I just met with Dr. Crane. After weighing the options, I agree with his recommendation.”

My heart sinks. “But, Dad, look what happened with Gram. Everyone thought she was going to die, but she didn't. So if we wait to see what happens, I won't need a brace.”

Dad takes a deep breath. “I wish it were that simple.” He puts his arm around me. “Dr. Crane arranged a brace fitting for you in fifteen minutes. He'd like you in a brace as soon as possible.”

I want to scream and yell and punch something, but I can't because it takes all my strength to keep from crying.

Dad rubs my head. “Tell your grandmother and Ms. Ruddy that you need to leave.”

All of a sudden without thinking, I scream at him, “You can't make me get a brace! You hardly know me! Gram raised me, so she should make the decision. And she won't make me!”