Missing Pieces (3 page)

Chapter 8

Mom let me go back to sleep
until third period, then drove me to school. We didn’t talk about Ashley’s appointment, but I could tell Mom was worried.

I checked in at the office and hurried to my class. The bell had just rung, and people milled around the halls. I caught bits of conversation.

“. . . whole thing was smashed . . .”

“. . . don’t have any idea who did it . . .”

“. . . my dad was so angry . . .”

So our part of town wasn’t the only one hit by the vandals. Skeeter Messler asked why I was late. He’s kind of got a thing for Ashley, poor guy.

“I was up late with my sister.”

“Ashley? Is something wrong?”

“Doctor’s appointment this morning. She has to sleep during the tests, so she stays up late.”

Skeeter looked away like he had just heard that Colorado had been invaded by killer koalas. “I had no idea.”

“She’s had this a long time,” I said.

“Is she in the hospital?”

“No,” I said, slamming my locker. “She’ll be back tomorrow.”

I could tell Skeeter’s mind was running, and I hoped Ashley wouldn’t hold me responsible for anything he did. While we walked to our third period class, I changed the subject to damaged mailboxes. Skeeter hadn’t seen any.

At lunch I realized I’d forgotten to pack mine and I hadn’t brought money. My stomach growled. I scanned the lunchroom, stopping on a terrifying sight. She sat next to a small cash register at the end of the line. I was about to go into uncharted waters, where an undertow could take you out to sea.

I was about to face every kid’s nightmare at Red Rock Middle School.

The Lunch Lady.

Chapter 9

In the waiting room
I found Sam talking to the mother and father of a little boy on the floor. The boy smiled at me as he played with LEGOs. He was missing two teeth on top and one on the bottom, so he looked like he had been in a fight.

“This is Ashley,” his mother said. “She just finished doing the same thing you’re going to do.”

“How old are you?” I said.

“Seven.”

He seemed small for seven. His mom and dad just stared at him.

“Does it hurt?” the boy said.

I got down on the floor with him and shook my head. “You just go to sleep.” I lowered my head so he could see where the nurse had put the electrodes. “The nurse is really nice. She’ll put this gunky stuff in your hair, but it washes out in the shower.”

The nurse stuck her head out the door. “Ian?”

He stood and glanced at his mother.

“You want me to go with you?” I said.

He smiled again, and it looked like he had an acre of gums. His mouth was a crossword puzzle with too many holes. And four down didn’t line up with three across, if you know what I mean. I walked back with him and showed him the chair he would sleep in and the computer. He climbed in the chair while the nurse went to work.

“Thank you,” she whispered as I left.

It was near lunchtime when the nurse finally ushered Sam and me into another room. Sam kept checking his watch.

Finally, Dr. Alek came in and apologized for being late. “Who’s the big troublemaker here?” he said, looking at me. “Is it you, Ashley? Are you the troublemaker?”

Dr. Alek is from the Middle East, so he talks kind of funny and fast. He has large, black eyebrows and short hair. He’s about as tall as Mom, and his nose is pointy. He wears a blue medical coat with a stethoscope hanging out of the front pocket. We hated leaving our old doctor in Illinois, but when we found Dr. Alek, Mom said our prayers had been answered.

“Stand up, Ashley,” he said. He pulled my arms to my sides, had me close my eyes and touch my nose with my index finger. He checked my reflexes, tapping my legs and arms with a little rubber hammer, looked in my eyes and ears with a special light, tossed a ball to me and had me catch it, and then asked me to sit down.

Sam was quiet the whole time, just watching.

Dr. Alek made a few notes in my folder, then closed it and faced Sam. “Any problems at night? Any recurrences?”

“Not that we can tell,” Sam said. “Something wrong?”

Dr. Alek looked at his chart again and seemed to try to smile. “I wish I could give you better news. The last few EEGs show the discharges in the brain getting worse.”

Sam asked questions, but I couldn’t concentrate. I felt like my life was over.

“What do we do?” Sam said.

“Try different medication. Unfortunately, this is not an exact science. Different people respond differently to medication. We have to find what works.” Dr. Alek looked at me like my head was on backward.

I didn’t feel any different. “Am I going to be this way for the rest of my life?” I said.

He leaned close. “I had hoped we’d be further along by now, that you wouldn’t need to keep taking pills and having these tests. But no, I still have hope that you will be able to beat this.” He tousled my hair. “You’re a big troublemaker, you know that?”

I knew he was teasing, but still it almost made me cry. I figured that was because I was so tired.

He wrote a new prescription and showed Sam how to wean me from the medicine I was already taking and start the new stuff.

The nurse at the front smiled. “Ian’s mom said to tell you thanks.”

“Did he do okay?”

“Slept like a baby.” She handed me a Tootsie Pop from a basket filled with buttons and stickers and candy. “Don’t worry, kiddo. We’re going to get you better, you’ll see.”

Chapter 10

Maybe the Lunch Lady’s hairnet
reminds me of a nightmare, or it could be the way she looks at us or yells at us for the smallest thing. Some kids say she lives in an old house with lots of cats, and that’s what she eats when she runs out of food. Whatever, I try to avoid her.

But with my stomach growling and the food smells overwhelming me, I waited until there was a break in the line and approached.

She’s large, with black glasses that make her face look like a cat. She usually wears too much lipstick.

“Hi, Mrs. Garcia,” I said, trying to sound as cheery as possible.

She stared at my empty hands. “What do you want?”

“Uh . . .”

“Timberline, right?” she said. “Ashley’s brother?”

I nodded, glad she remembered. Everybody likes Ashley. “I was wondering . . .”

“Let me guess,” she said, her eyes foggy as mud puddles. “You forgot your money?”

“How’d you know?”

She wrote something on a piece of paper and stuffed it in the cash register. “Three dollars. Pay me tomorrow.” When I hesitated, she jerked her head toward the food. “Go on, before I change my mind.”

Chapter 11

When I woke up from my nap,
I had missed dinner. Mom kept a plate for me, but I wasn’t hungry. She sat on my bed, and we talked.

I cried. I told her I wanted to get better. “I’ve taken my medicine every day.”

“I know,” Mom said. “You’ve done everything we’ve asked and more.”

When Bryce got home he told me about Mrs. Garcia, and I was sorry I had missed it. Everybody thinks she’s as mean as a snake, but I’ve actually gotten her to smile.

“Your principal called,” Mom said as I measured out my old medicine and a little of the new. I have to take the pills with food.

“What did Mr. Forster want?”

“The elementary school in Memorial needs tutors after school. He thought you might be interested.”

Memorial is a town that’s not too far from us. “What would I have to do?”

“Work on math and English. Play games. He suggested you for a second grader.”

“You’d have to drive me,” I said.

“If it’s something you want to do, I don’t mind.”

Mom knows I want to be a teacher when I grow up. Maybe a special-ed teacher. I told Mr. Forster that the first time Bryce and I met him. He was so kind to us when he found out our dad had been killed.

“I’ll do it,” I said.