2005 - Vol. 2, Issue 4

I stared at June as she slowly pushed Willy out into the sun-drenched playground. Willy sprawled on his stomach on his reclining wheelchair, grinning like an idiot over his shoulder at the nurse. He was 12, but he looked like a six–year–old stick. I'd turn nine at the end of August, and I'd never seen anybody as skinny as him.

I couldn't help staring at June after what Willy had said about her. He told me to watch how she moved back and forth and to pay attention to her bottom. He said that was one of the most important parts. Her bottom wasn't like the other nurses, and she wasn't fat and loud like the other ones. The ones that would hover over me in bed, grinning at me, touching my face. They all wanted to take me home with them, and that was scary. June never said those things; she just smiled all the time.

"What're you looking at, Josh?"

I jerked my head around and blushed. Katie had drawn her wheelchair up next to mine in the sunshine and was smiling at me prettily. I quickly glanced down at her leg, but it was covered by a light blanket.

"Nothing. Just Willy. He's flirting with the nurse."

"Huh," she said. Her eyes squinted in the sun, and she absently played with her golden ponytail. She scowled ahead at Willy, but he didn't pay any attention to her. "He's a freak."

"What?"

"Not like you," she whispered, smiling at me again. I looked away, embarrassed, and began to roll my wheelchair out of the playground onto the wheelchair path that led to the hospital courtyard. Katie kept pace with me. I looked behind me and saw that all the kids who were in any condition to leave their beds were being hauled out into the warmth for Dr. Plato's surprise. I watched in pity as the Mustache Lady pushed Eric at full speed ahead of us. Eric was drooling and twitching as usual, but his hands gripped the rails on his wheelchair and his eyes were locked on the Mustache Lady behind him.

"Did the Mustache Lady take your temperature yet today?" Katie said.

"Be quiet; she'll hear you!" I whispered.

"Well, has she?"

"No," I muttered. I wished she had gotten it over with before the surprise. I hated it. The Mustache Lady would croak out my name in her old man's voice, and when she found me, she ran at me like she was going to eat me. She stuck her big, ugly face an inch away from my nose, and I could see the thick black hairs on her upper lip drift and sway in the heavy breath bursting from her nostrils. She pulled her thermometer out of her breast pocket, a big stick connected to a huge battery box by a coiled wire, and shoved it mercilessly down my throat. I hated it when she did that.

"Do you want me to tell her?" Katie asked.

"No! Don't!"

She laughed and looked at me in that weird way again, like she knew something I didn't. She was 11, two years older than me. "You're so cute, Josh," she said and touched my arm. I blushed and began to push my wheelchair faster. I watched my arms as they pumped the wheels. My muscles had never been so big. I sped past Willy and June. Willy cheered me on with his reedy voice.

"Go, Josh, go!"

I grinned wide, letting the warm air whistle through my teeth. The courtyard was steadily approaching, and a semicircle of kids, nurses, and doctors rested in the grass. Dr. Plato stood in front of everybody, his hands clasped at his middle. I strained back against the wheels, slowing down my chair, and I idled into the grass, pulling up at the far right edge of the semicircle.

Before my breath even slowed, Katie pulled up to my right. She wiped sweat off her face. "It's too hot for this," she said, and ripped the blanket from her legs. Her right leg was tanned and long, and she stretched it out over the wheelchair stirrups. Her left leg lifted weakly in the stretch. It was tiny, and her foot, which was turned roughly away from her ankle, ended just above her right knee.

"Hey, you guys!" I looked up, relieved to see Willy. June pushed him up to the right of Katie. June tousled his black hair with her long, slender fingers and walked away to the cluster of nurses. Willy pushed his glasses high on his nose and winked at Katie. "Hello, gorgeous."

Katie frowned at him.

"Did you tell Katie what I did the day before your surgery, Josh?"

"No," I said, laughing, which almost turned into a gag at the memory.

"What'd he do?" Katie pleaded. "What'd he do?"

"You tell her, Willy." Willy was the smartest kid I knew, and he always told the best stories.

Satisfied, he made his hands into a ball and put them under his chest so he could raise his head a bit. "It's pretty gross, though."

Katie grimaced. "Then don't tell me."

"The day before Josh's operation," Willy began, "June was trying to get him to puke, 'cause they don't want you to have anything in your stomach for the operation. Josh was sticking his finger down his throat, slobbering all over the place, like Eric, but he couldn't barf. It was funny. So, of course, June got me to help."

"Shut up. I don't want to hear it," Katie said.

Willy raised his head even further, grinning in anticipation of a gross-out. "So I told Josh to think of eating fried eggs and milk with big sour chunks in it. Then after he eats it, he pukes it up into a cereal bowl and licks up the puke with his tongue."

"That's gross!" Katie started to gag, and I couldn't help myself either.

"It worked real good!" Willy laughed. "Josh barfed all over the place. He only got a little in the bedpan!"

Katie glared at Willy. "You're disgusting!"

Willy smiled as if he'd been complimented.

"You're a freak!" She pointed at his arms, then grabbed mine. "Look how ugly, white, and skinny his arms are!" she said to me. "He's just a little dead boy!"

Willy looked confused and hurt. His eyebrows pressed together, and he shoved his glasses against his face. "What?" he asked quietly.

Katie kissed me loudly on the cheek and then on the lips. At first I tried to pull away, but she held me tighter, and she was warm. "He's not like you, Josh. You've got a tan and big muscles and you're cute. He's not like you at all." Katie slowly turned to Willy. He looked up at her with shiny eyes. She flicked her hand in a scattering motion. "Go away, wimp. Go away, little dead boy!"

Willy raised his hands to push his glasses up, but they fell short. His pale face crumpled behind the huge glasses, and he dropped his head to his pillow and began to cry softly. I stared with my mouth wide open, Katie still clinging to me.

"Kids!" Dr. Plato boomed in his giant voice. "Today a friend of mine is going to come visit you!"

I glanced at the doctor, terribly aware of Willy crying to my right. The doctor pointed at his watch, then pressed his index finger toward the sky.

"Why, I think he's coming right now!"

A sound came from the sky. Something huge thumping the air. A black helicopter appeared over our heads, blotting out the hazy blue sky. Wind from its immense blades began to pound down on my head as it lowered onto the grass. The doctor's hair whipped in the air, and the grass flattened down as if an invisible giant were standing right before us.

Katie was breathing hard against my neck, and I suddenly ripped away from her. The wind lashed her ponytail back and forth. Willy was still crying; he hadn't even looked up to see the helicopter. And he loved helicopters. Katie's blanket was wrapped precariously around her left wheel, and the wind was steadily sucking it way.

She smiled at me, and pointed at the helicopter. "Are you going to ride it with me?"

I looked at her tiny left leg and snatched the blanket from the wheel.

"Put your blanket back on," I said and bit my tongue. Too late. Katie wrapped it around her legs and began to cry. She stared at her lap, tears wetting her blanket, and backed her chair onto the path. She swiveled around and raced back to the hospital. I looked back to Willy, and June was kneeling down beside him, rubbing his neck. She stood up and saw me. Her face was so sharp and her mouth was pinched.

"Why didn't you say anything?" she snapped. "Why did you let her say those things?"

I opened my mouth, but she hurriedly pushed Willy onto the path. His face was still pressed into the pillow.

A hand touched my shoulder. I turned the chair to see Dr. Plato smiling down at me. A big guy in army clothes stood next to him. Kids were getting into the helicopter.

"You want to take a ride, Josh?" Dr. Plato asked.

I stared at the helicopter and slowly pulled on the wheelchair's rubber handles, pushing myself back.

Who was going to go up with me?

Who was going to go up with me?