Hope Girl (19 page)

Ms. Honey Bunn brings Dad in so that he can hear the final instructions. She gives us each a handout, clears her throat, and reads, “You'll wear your brace twenty-three hours a day. Your hour out includes time to bathe and exercise. You'll be sore until you build a tolerance for wearing it—your body's not used to being stretched, pushed, and pulled. If it causes red spots or pressure sores, you need to come back, and I'll make adjustments. Otherwise, you'll come back to see Dr. Crane in four weeks.” She sets the paper down. “Do either of you have questions?”

Dad looks my way. “Are you all set, River?”

I nod. “Can we go home now?”

23

Flowers and Pizza

A
fter my brace fitting, Dad and I walk to the parking lot. I cross my fingers, hoping we don't see anyone. I've never felt so self-conscious.

Dad starts opening the passenger door for me, but I push his hand away. “I've got it, Dad.” I pull it open, but as I get in, I whack my head since I can't bend like I used to. I want to scream.

Dad looks at me. “That'll be a nice goose egg.”

“Very funny.” Since I can't look down, I feel around for my seat belt. Once I find it, I pull it across and try to fasten it. I might as well be blind.

Dad's still watching. “Want a hand?”

“I said I've got it.” And eventually I do.

Dad turns out of the parking lot onto Main Street and checks his watch. “No wonder I'm hungry,” he says. “It's after twelve. Want to stop at Chick-a-Dee's for lunch?”

I try shaking my head to say no but realize I can't. “There's no way I'm going anywhere with this stupid brace on.” Dad puts his hand on my head, like he's getting ready to rub it. “Dad, if you don't mind, you're on my goose egg.”

He takes it off. “Sorry. Now about the diner—it's understandable if you don't want to go today, but you'll have to get used to it.”

“Everyone will stare.”

“At first they will, but Birdsong's a small town. Once people get used to seeing your brace, they won't stare anymore.”

I want to turn my head toward the window so Dad won't see me cry.

I can't even do that.

Once we're home, I manage to get out of the car without smashing my head. I want to run to my room as fast as I can, but walking's awkward enough. Plus, I can't imagine how stupid I'd look running.

As I head to my bedroom, Dad says, “I'll throw a couple sandwiches together.”

“I'm not hungry.”

I try flopping down on my bed like normal, but like everything else, it's completely different. My whole body lands like a stiff log, and the plastic part under my chin jabs my throat. I hate my crooked back, and I hate Ms. Honey Bunn for making such an ugly, awful brace. I lay flat on my back while tears trickle from my eyes and land in my ears. I close my eyes and block everything out until I fall asleep.

The doorbell wakes me up. I check my clock—five thirty p.m.

I hear Dad. “Come on in,” he says. “And look at that pizza. River will love it. I'm sure she's hungry, she wouldn't eat lunch.”

I hear Rosa. “I'll put it in the kitchen.”

Then Carlos. “Where's she hiding, anyway?”

“In her room,” Dad says. “I'll get her.”

He knocks. When I don't answer, he pushes the door open a crack. “River, can I come in?”

I don't move. “Yes.”

“Rosa and Carlos brought pizza. Let's eat,” he says, offering his hand. “I'm sure you're starving.”

I try getting up. “Ouch! Dad, please don't pull. It hurts.”

He lets go of my hand and sits on the edge of my bed. “Where does it hurt?”

“All over,” I explain. “And if I move, it's worse.”

“Here,” he says, “let me help.” He puts his arm around the back of my brace and lifts me so I'm sitting on the edge of my bed. “How's that?”

“Ms. Honey Bunn said I'd be sore, but I didn't think it would be like this.”

Dad gives me his hand. “Let's get you to the kitchen. We'll take it slow.”

Rosa and Carlos are setting the table when we walk in. When they see us, Rosa comes over and gives me a bouquet of flowers. “For you,” she says. “Beautiful flowers for a beautiful girl.”

Carlos adds, “We wanted to make you smile.”

I smell the flowers, and they do make me smile. “Thank you.”

“Here,” says Carlos, reaching for them, “I'll put them in water.”

Rosa sits beside me. “You're pretty sore, aren't you?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you had your brace on all day?”

“Since I got it.”

“That's a long time for the first day,” she says. “Tell you what. Let's have pizza, and then I'll set you up for a warm bath. That's always a sure cure for a sore body.”

I smile at Rosa. “That would be nice.”

Carlos puts a slice of pizza on my plate and pours me a glass of orange soda. “Thanks, Carlos. And I'm sorry about—”

But before I get a chance to finish, he interrupts, “That's okay, River. We'll talk another time.”

I look at him. “Like in four years when I'm done growing and don't have to wear this anymore?”

Rosa rubs my head. “Don't worry. You won't be sore that long. Your body will get used to it before you know it.”

Rosa helps me to the bathroom and fills the tub. My body hurts so much that I don't care about privacy.

She helps me undress and take off my brace. Even though it still hurts to move, I feel like a freed bird. She holds my arm while I step in. I sit down slowly, lean back, and close my eyes, letting the water surround me like a hug.

I soak until the water cools. Rosa helps me get into my brace and then my pajamas. She even tucks me into bed.

Maybe this is what it's like to have a mom.

24

Forgiveness

O
n Saturday I stayed home. I spent the entire day trying to get used to my robot body. Overall it wasn't a bad day because I didn't have to see anyone. But this morning that changes since I have to see people—basically everyone in Birdsong. That's because it's Sunday, and nearly everyone in Birdsong goes to Uncle Henry's church.

Carlos and Rosa are coming today too. It'll be Carlos's first time. He says that'll work to my benefit because if he's by my side, I won't have to worry about people staring at me since they'll be staring at him. I told him that's an awful thing to say about himself. He told me life's easier when you face the truth.