Chapter Two: That Girl Next Door (Melanie Danielle Stratford)

 

            School has ended once again. Right now, I’m in Ms. Rogers’ office. I’m sitting in a gray-seating chair in front of her desk. Ms. Rogers is staring at me with her bird-like face. She’s got graying red hair, a large, pointy nose, and beady, brown eyes. Her red lips are really tiny, and her mouth is curved in a permanent frown. She’s wearing a purple suit. Ms. Rogers has a pen and notebook in hand to record my “daily progress” of what she considers being a normal teenager. I’m unique and my parents’ deaths don’t really bother me anymore. My heart has healed almost completely.

            “So, Miss Kirk. Tell me about your first visit yesterday.” She has this nasally, uptight voice that bothers me so much.

            “Well, when I got there, the kid—er, Roy—was asleep. But then he started coughing, which woke him up. And then, he said that he’d had a weird dream about this girl who made him drown. It really freaked me out, too,” I say.

            “Interesting…” she says while jotting down who knows what in that little notebook. I hate it. She makes it seem like I’m some unknown specimen. And I have to do this every day. “What exactly did he dream about? Do you remember?”

            “Yes. Well, he described it so much more vividly than a normal kid his age would. So, yes, I can tell you.” I guess that’s true, unless kids these days are smarter than they were back in my day. “Well, he said he was in this weird forest, and it was really dark, except for this illuminated rock sitting in the middle of a lake. And there was a little girl on the rock who told him to come to her. He said he couldn’t swim, but he took a step forward anyway. He fell in and began to drown, and the girl didn’t save him. After that, she turned into a monster. That’s it, I think.”

            “Interesting…” she says again. Ugh. “So, tell me, Shawna. How does this little boy make you feel?” You’re a guidance counselor, not a therapist.

            “I don’t know. I just met him yesterday. He reminds me of a rock: he barely moved and he seemed kind of dull. But I really don’t know him, so I shouldn’t judge him.”

            “Good, good,” Ms. Rogers says, tapping her chin with the pen. “You shouldn’t judge. I’m glad you understand.”

            I frown. What the heck, lady!? I’m not in the first grade. I know not to judge people. Everyone knows not to judge people, even though some people choose to do so anyway. That’s just human nature.

            “What happened after your visit?”

            “I went home. I had dinner with Shane and Theresa. I fed Pete, did my homework, and then went to bed.” Nothing special. Same old, same old.

            Oh, yeah. Theresa is Shane’s girlfriend.

            Ms. Rogers goes on and on, asking me questions about what I did and how I felt about it. “What was discussed at dinner last night?” “Did you eat a wholesome breakfast this morning?” “How do this and that make you feel?” And every single one of my responses is returned with “Interesting…” This goes on for about an hour. Finally, the clock shows “4:30,” and the session timer goes off.

            “Good, good. You are progressing at a healthy rate, Miss Kirk. It’s time for you to go see Roy again.”

            I get up from my seat, grabbing my khaki-colored bag.

            “Have a nice day, Miss Kirk. And remember, smile,” she says. She always says that. It’s as if that and “Interesting…” are programmed into her brain.

            “Bye.”

No sun☼shine here

            It’s raining again—no, duh—but this time, I’ve got a sturdy umbrella and raincoat. No, it’s not one of those fisherman yellow kinds. It’s black, my favorite color. And it won’t matter this time if my umbrella wants to bail out on me. Hmm, I wonder how many umbrellas I go through every year.

            When I get inside the Children’s Hospital, I stop at the receptionist’s counter.

            “Hello. You’re the girl from yesterday who got water all over the floor, aren’t you?” Ms. Long greets. I can’t tell if she’s angry or not, and I don’t know if that’s good or bad!

            “Oh, yes. Sorry about that,” I say, apologetically. “Um, I will be coming here on a regular basis now—Monday through Friday. So, I’ll need that special pass a lot.”

            “Of course. I got word from the Delaney’s. Shawna Kirk, right?”

            I nod, and Ms. Long hands me the gray and silver card. Only this time, it’s attached to a black strip of fabric for a necklace.

            “Here,” she says. “This is yours now, until you stop visiting. If you ever lose it, just come to me and I’ll give you a new one. But, please, it’s not an invitation to lose it.” She smiles. I think I like this lady.

            I drape the pass-necklace around my neck. “Thanks.”

            I ride the elevator up to the sixth floor and head to room 600. I knock quietly. No one answers, so I slowly open the door and peek inside. I think Roy’s just in here by himself. He’s asleep.

            Oh, well. As I turn to leave, I remember Mrs. Delaney telling me to come in, even if she and her husband aren’t there. I hope this rule applies if Roy is asleep. Oh, well.

            I come inside, quietly closing the door behind me. I take off my raincoat and special pass and place them on the window seat along with my bag and soaking-wet umbrella. I plop down next to my stuff, and look out the window. It’s raining really hard outside right now. Lightning streaks the sky occasionally. Today’s thunderstorm isn’t nearly as bad as yesterday’s, though.

            I turn my head over to the clock on the wall. It reads “4:47.” I turn to look at Roy, now. He looks just as gray as yesterday. He looks so peaceful in his sleep, though. The monitor on the opposite side of the bed beeps extremely slowly. Is it even possible for someone’s heart rate to be so slow?

            I sit there, silently, for a few minutes. This is really boring. What if this kid doesn’t wake up while I’m here? How long do I have to stay, anyway?

            Ugh, I’m not doing anything right now. So, I might as well so something constructive. I pull out my homework from my bag. Ugh, I hate homework.

            Let’s see. How about doing algebra first today? Factoring, yay. Number one, 25x²+20x+4. Um, (5x+2)(5x+2). Is that an answer? Yeah. Number two…

            “What are you doing?”

            I practically jump up from my seat. I drop my pencil onto the floor.

            “Oops. Didn’t mean to scare you…”

            I look over at the bed. Roy is leaning over the side, with a sorry look on his face. Oh, it was him. I was too concentrated on my homework. I get scared too easily.

            “It’s okay,” I say, picking up my pencil. “No harm done.”

            “What are you doing?” Roy asks again.

            “Algebra 1 homework.”

            “Okay,” he says. He looks at the floor for a moment, and then says, “Let’s be friends.”

            I put my stuff aside and scoot closer to the hospital bed. “Alright.”

            “I don’t have any other friends. I haven’t seen any of them in two years. That was when I first got sick.”

            “Wow, that’s a long time. You know what, Roy? I don’t have any other friends either.”

            “Really? Well, I guess we’re the same.”

            “How old are you?” I ask.

            “Nine,” he says. “How old are you?”

            “Sixteen.”

            “Okay,” he says. “I used to play baseball. I was really good, too.”

            “Oh, I don’t play any sports. I just don’t like them.” I say. “Besides baseball, what other things did you like to do?”

            “I’m embarrassed about it…” he looks away.

            “It’s okay! Everyone gets embarrassed at one point or another. Like, I get startled really easily. Just the other day, my cousin slammed the door when he came home and I got so startled that I drop my spoon out the window! It was really embarrassing.”

            Roy smiles at this. Whoa, he has a really nice smile. It’s good to see him smile, though. I bet he doesn’t do that very often, because he’s alone in here a lot.

            “You promise you won’t laugh if I tell you, then?”

            “Promise,” I say.

            “I…I like to sing. Mommy and Daddy don’t come to see me as often as they used to. It’s just once a day now, for only maybe an hour or so. They used to come and stay for days at a time. But, no one really comes to see me, so I can sing all I want to…D-don’t tell anybody, okay?” Roy’s blushing now. I don’t know why.

            “I won’t tell anyone. But, why are you so embarrassed about it? You sing. It’s no big deal.”

            “Uh-huh! It is a big deal!” Oopsie, he sounds angry now. The monitor beeps faster and faster. I hope that’s not a bad thing. His face is red, too.

            “I didn’t mean—.”

            “Singing is a big deal to me! Mel told me I can sing well! I sing all the time for her!”

            Roy sinks back into his pillows, his face flushed. I don’t think he’s used that much breath in a while. My bad.

            “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you angry. It’s just that—I don’t know! I just say some really stupid things sometimes.” I scowl at myself.

            “’S okay.” Roy looks seriously drained now. His face is really, really gray and he sounds like a zombie. The monitor’s pace is extremely slow again.

            “So…who’s Mel?” I ask.

            Roy blushes again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            What!?

            “You just said ‘Mel told me I can sing well!’” Ha, that rhymes.

            “No I didn’t!” He looks up at me, cautiously, and I bust out my puppy dog face. He can’t resist and gives in. “Fine. Mel was my…girlfriend.” He turns his head so I can’t see his face. Aw, how cute.

            “Your girlfriend, huh?” I ask, with a sly smirk on my face.

            “Y-yeah. She was really pretty, too. She used to live next door to me, and we would play together at the giant lake in our backyards. I remember one day me and her were at the lake.

            “We were just playing like any normal day, but I found this really cool rock there. I’d been there almost every day and never once had I seen a rock like that before. The rock was really pale blue with two black stripes across it. I was about to skip rocks with it, but decided to give it to Mel instead…’cause, you know. I liked her.” Roy smiles, blushing once more.

            “‘Hey, Mel! Come here!’ I said. She was skipping rocks, too. So, she came over and I told her to close her eyes and hold out her hands.

            “‘Why?’ she asked. She always wanted to know the purpose of doing things. She was stubborn like that, I guess.

            “So, I said, ‘Because.’

            “‘That’s not an answer, Roy!’” But she did it anyway. I placed the little blue rock in her hands. ‘Okay,’ I said.

            “Mel opened her eyes. ‘Eh, what is it?’

            “‘It’s a rock. It looks cool, right?’”

            “Mel nodded. ‘Oh! Wait here! Do—not—move!’ Then she takes off like a rocket. I did what she said, and waited for a long time. It seemed like an hour before she came back. Well, she came back and she came up to me with her arm outstretched towards me. She held something that was suspended by a chain.

            “‘Look what my uncle did!’ The rock had a hole drilled in it. A black chain was strung through the hole to make a necklace. ‘Now it’s a pretty necklace.’ After that she put the necklace on and…”

            Roy has this dreamy look in his eyes and a sweet smile on his face.

            “What happened next?” I ask.

            “‘Okay, well this time, you close your eyes, but don’t hold out your hands,’ Mel said. I closed my eyes and waited,” Roy says. He reminds me of a peacock right now: really proud about whatever happened next.

            “Well, I waited…And then she kissed me.”

            “Whaaaat!?” I scream, standing up. “I’m sixteen and I haven’t even had my first kiss and here you are, only, what? Seven then!?” How does that make sense!?

            “Calm down, Shawna! ‘It’s no big deal…’” he says, quoting me.

            “Hey, don’t go using my own lines against me.”

            Roy just sticks out his tongue.

            I sink back into the seat. “So, now, she kissed you?”

            “Yep!” Well, then, Mr. Peacock. I feel like picking on Roy now. It’s all Shane’s fault. He’s set a bad example for me. I laugh. “What…?” Roy asks.

            “I thought little boys your age thought girls were icky…” I smirk. Ha! How you like them apples?

            Heh, he doesn’t know what to say now. He just keeps saying “uh” and “um.” I feel like I should say something like “Respect your elders, kid!” or “One day, you’ll be just like me: a mean, old teenager.” But both of those sound really dorky, so no.

            Instead, I say, “So, tell me more about Mel. She seems like an awesome person.”

            Roy goes into a fit of coughing again. After a while, he stops. “Well, Mel wore that necklace every day after that.”

            “That’s sweet.”

            “Yeah. But, Mel’s real name was Melanie Danielle Stratford. I just called her ‘Mel’ for short. Her hair was brown and her eyes were the same color as that rock I gave her. She would always wear these frilly dresses, even though she would play with me and stuff. Mel’s mom would always get mad if Mel came home with her dress dirtied or messed up some other way. Mel was always really nice to me, and she was funny and sweet, too. We would occasionally see a frog at the lake, and Mel would always bring it home for a pet,” Roy says.

            “I have a pet frog. His name’s Pete.” I love Pete.

            “Really!? One of Mel’s frogs was named Pete.”

            “Awesome,” I say.

            “Yeah. Frogs were her favorite animal. She liked the color green the best. And her favorite food was strawberries. Her parents owned a strawberry field, too, and sometimes she would pick some for me, or we would go together.” Roy sighs. “Those strawberries were the sweetest ones ever because Mel picked them.”

            I narrow my eyes. “You’re nine. You shouldn’t say things like that.”

            “It’s true.” He winks at me. What was that for?

            For the next hour, Roy spouts out things about his beloved Mel. I don’t think anyone has ever talked so long about someone else before. And it seems like he will never run out of things to say about her. “Mel was born with blonde hair.” “Mel could speak German.” “Did you know that Mel’s big toe is shorter than the toe next to it?” I don’t care anymore! If he says one more thing about Mel, I’m gonna blow up!

            “Mel can really— 

         “I have to leave now!” I say hastily and louder than I meant to. Roy looks disappointed. “I mean, it’s getting kind of late,” I say, slowly this time. I grab my stuff and start for the door. “Bye, Roy! I’ll see you tomorrow!”