Ms. Zephyr's Notebook (3 page)

November 5

Logan K.

Around sunset, maybe? Can't really tell
.

Those nurses really know how to screw up a story. Okay, where was I? Oh yeah… so I moseyed on over to the chairs and plopped myself down between the attendants.

“Nice bag lady,” I said to the air.

The dude eating the chocolate gave me the eye. You know the look, Abbie, 'cause you do it so well. The old better-be-nice-to-the-kid-maybe-he's-dying look.

“She's no bag lady,” he said, kind of cautious.

The other guy leaned back in his chair and reached behind me to poke the first dude, warning-like.

“What? I was just making a comment. No need to poke your buddy there…” I leaned forward and read his name badge, “… uh, Shawn.”

“Listen, kid.” Shawn's voice was all nasal, like a foghorn. “It's none of your business who we bring in here. A little discretion, okay fella? The kid needs her privacy. Just leave her alone.”

“Kid?” I turned to the guy who had been the soft touch for the candy bar. “That smelly pile of clothes was a kid?” I propped my foot up on Useless, but it wheeled away on me, so I had to scramble up to grab it and put the brake on. By the time I got back, Shawn's buddy — his badge read “Garth” — had clammed up, and his lips pressed together like he thought I was
going to steal his gum or something.

“Guys, guys — if that's a kid, I'll find out soon enough, anyway. I'm the only one in the… the ward up there.” I couldn't stand to say “Children's Ward,” Abs. Hard enough having to stay here when I'm fifteen and all. You know how much I love those sticky little Winnie-the-Pooh characters half-peeling off all the walls around this place. “Just tell me what she's doing here, okay? She looked pretty rough. Get hit by a car?”

“Nah, she just fell…,” started Garth, when Shawn shot him a glance.

I tried to look encouraging to Garth, but the next thing I knew the Emerg door opened and the battleaxe who calls herself the head nurse down there was waving forms at the ambulance guys. They signed up the paperwork quick as a wink and headed for the door.

“Don't forget to give that nose a blow, Shawn,” I called out at him. “Nasty little cold you're developing there!”

He fired me one last glare and was gone.

I hate that freakin' exit sign. Always glowing away up there, even if the power goes out. It's like some kind of portal for everybody else to use. Everybody but me.

So there's your journal entry for today, Abbie. And I think I should get credit for tomorrow, too, since this is like four times longer than anything I've
ever written for you. English homework all sewn up, wouldn't you say? And I'm not going to tell you what that dumb-ass Garth left behind on his seat in Emerg. Let's just say the stomach-ache was worth it.

L.K.

“Geez, Logan. You sounded pretty upset.” Logan shrugged. Probably not a good idea to let the kid know too much of what he was thinking. “Well, you know how it is. I got over it.”

Kip looked at him with those giant little-kid eyes. “I don't know about that. I remember you were still pretty mad when I got here.” He pulled the notebook onto his own lap. “Look! The next bit is about Cleo. Let's read that.”

Logan glanced at his watch. His stomach twisted with nerves, but he couldn't let the kid see that. He just needed to get the information he came for and get out of here.

“Just a sec, Kip. Are they doing extra bed checks on you these days? Because if that nurse comes in here and I get caught, I'm toast.”

Kip shook his head. “No, we should be good for a while. I can usually manage about an extra hour of computer time in between checks at night.” He grinned shyly. “I like playing that game you showed me. You know the one where you draw the line and the stick man drives along on his motorbike until he crashes?”

Logan had to smile back. At least the kid was learning. “Okay, we'll keep reading for now, but I may have to make a fast exit at some point.”

He glanced down at the handwriting in the next section. The information had to be here. But if he grabbed the book and ran, the kid would turn on him. And he had to read it sometime. He couldn't make a decision without it. The kid flipped the page and Cleo's voice filled his head.

November 6

Cleo J. Jacqueline Hornby-Moss

9:17 a.m
.

Good morning, Ms. Zephyr. This is my third day here at the Evergreen County Hospital, and I'm certain it will be my last. I've spent the past two days going through one test after another, each more horribly embarrassing than the one before.

I'm writing my journal here in your notebook because… well, because you asked me to. Everyone else who works around here has just told me what to do, but you just seem so nice and don't act anything like that Medusa of a nurse. And of course, I will be going home
soon, but just to humour you I agree to write a page or two. I hope you will appreciate the effort I have taken to design my own letterhead.

And so, Ms. Abigail Zephyr (such a nice, soft name you have), here is the information about me that you requested:

• My birth name is Cleopatra and I'm only telling you that for the sake of absolute veracity. I'm not going to put down my other names, because of course it is a mistake that I am here in the first place. And anyway, I much prefer to be called Jacqueline. Jacqueline Hornby-Moss. Isn't it lovely? You may call me that if we get close, which we likely won't since I plan on leaving here today.

• I am almost 14 — it's just a little more than three weeks until my birthday. I'm in the ninth grade at Evergreen Middle School. Skipped fourth grade, which makes me the youngest in my class. They don't usually do that anymore but in my case they made an exception. Next year will be high school, and I'll have to take a bus out of Evergreen to the big consolidated school down the freeway. I have to say I am extremely nervous about the idea of high school, but in an excited sort of way. At least some of the time.

• I'm not really comfortable discussing the reasons that I have been admitted to this place. Obviously the nurses and doctors have made a
mistake. I mean, a girl gets a little dizzy at school and everyone has a fi t. I did break my wrist in the fall down the stairs, but that can happen to anyone, right? Other than that I am in the prime of health. Couldn't be better.

I think that's all I can manage today, Ms. Zephyr. It's been very nice to meet you.

Sincerely,

Jacqueline Hornby-Moss.

November 7

Jacqueline H-M.

10:42 a.m
.

Dear Ms. Zephyr,

I'm afraid I find myself unable to call you by your first name as you have requested. First, I was taught that I must speak to older people in a formal way, so even though you seem quite young for a teacher, I still feel odd about it. And second, I have had a terrible blow this morning, and I believe you might be a part of the group working against me.

You did ask that I note down the time whenever I write in this journal, and from that I hope you can see that today it has taken me a great deal longer than yesterday to get down to work. I spent the morning arguing, Ms. Zephyr, with that Medusa of a nurse and the rest of those professional food pushers who all seemed to want to talk at once. There is nothing else wrong with me. It's just a broken wrist. Anyone can have a broken wrist, especially if they have fallen down the stairs. You can hardly walk through the halls at school without seeing someone in a cast for a broken arm or a broken leg. It is not only me. Plus, I remembered this morning that I distinctly felt a push before I fell. I'm sure now that the whole thing was on purpose. Someone who doesn't like me at school pushed me down the stairs. I suspect a Certain Person,
though of course I don't have the evidence to say so, and I would never dream of implicating anyone without proof. Even if she is the meanest girl in the school and would stoop to anything to get what she wants.

But when no one would believe me this morning, Ms. Zephyr, I had the single, faint hope that you would come to my aid. After all, when you asked me to participate in your tutoring session yesterday I attended more than willingly, in spite of the fact that I am here in error. I completed every assignment that you requested, including writing a journal page even though I get top marks in English and don't really need the practice.

And regardless of what could have been quality reading time that I sacrificed to complete your busy-work, you still didn't help me stand up against the doctors. I do not need a bone density test. My bones are fine, apart from the broken wrist, which as I have mentioned could have happened to anyone who may have had the misfortune to fall down the stairs. You did not support me, Ms. Zephyr. And the medication that Medusa has noted on the top of this page is making me sleepy and sad. I have nothing left to say except that I miss my dog Zoë and it is time for me to go home. I trust you will all come to your senses tomorrow.

Jacqueline Hornby-Moss