“Come on, Finn!” Mom calls cheerfully as we reach the gate of the park.
When I woke up this morning, I had this weird floaty feeling, as if nothing in my life is real. I am apparently neither sick nor well. It doesn’t surprise me that my body’s behaving weirdly. All these thoughts have got to get out somehow. Sarah and Mom keep taking my temperature. “A little under the weather” is how Mom described me. We often go to the park on Saturdays, and she said some fresh air might do me good.
“We’ll go and see the ducks first,” Mom tells Finn and Olivia.
If I could roll my eyes, I would. I liked being taken to see the ducks when I was six, but right now I’ve got other things on my mind. If we have to be here, I was hoping we were going to the park café. It’s at the top of the hill, and I know it’s not easy to push me up there, but from the top you get a view right over the park. I like the feeling of being so high—on top of the world, looking down. From my wheelchair I so often feel low down, looking up at things.
Olivia skips ahead, Sarah’s pushing me, and Mom’s cajoling Finn—who is walking slowly, flapping his hand in front of his face. I think he likes the patterns of light it makes. Soon we reach the pond, and we stop by the barrier, near a clump of early daffodils. I watch Olivia throw corn at the nearest ducks as if she’s trying to murder one. I’m sure she just said, “Yeah! Got it!”
Mom pushes corn into Finn’s hand and helps him aim, but the corn just drops onto the sidewalk. He isn’t really interested and starts to pull away toward the playground.
“OK, Finn, just a minute,” Mom tells him.
Sarah’s phone beeps. I bet it’s Dan texting her. I see her peering at it when Mom’s not looking. I wish she’d tell me what he said.
When we’re in the playground, Sarah wheels me onto the wheelchair-accessible merry-go-round and pushes the bar gently so the platform begins to move before she gets on and stands with me.
“Just a gentle spin today, okay?”
This merry-go-round is here because of my mom; she campaigned for it for years, and I was so happy when it arrived. I used to like going fast. It’s not often I get to do anything fast. I’m too old for it now, though, and especially not today when my head is already spinning. At least Sarah moves it slowly.
“I’ll push!” Olivia says, running up.
“Gently, Olivia,” Sarah tells her. But she’s pushing too fast so I’m whirling even faster than the thoughts in my head. I want to stop. I want to get off. Now.
“Olivia! Slow down!” Sarah yells. She leaps off and brings it to a halt.
Olivia rushes away toward the playground climbers. “Sorry, Jemma! Are you okay?” Sarah asks, touching my shoulder as she pulls the wheelchair off the merry-go-round. I feel giddy and breathless. I want to go home. Sarah’s phone beeps with another message.
She parks me next to a bench where we can watch Finn on the swing. She turns me carefully to make sure the low sun isn’t in my eyes. The swing squeaks noisily. Finn would happily swing for an hour, maybe two, if he were allowed.
Sarah takes out her phone again and reads the new message. I wonder if she managed to convince Dan that she really went to the movies.
Olivia runs around, going on everything. She demands that Mom watch her on the monkey bars and then on the climbing wall. She’s good at climbing as well as dancing.
I might definitely be too old for playgrounds, but I’d rather be here, with Mom and Sarah and Olivia and Finn, than packed off to some college.
I’m wrapped well in a warm coat and have a blanket over my knees, but I’m starting to feel cold. The fresh air is doing me no good at all, which is no surprise to me. I feel weak and fuzzy-headed. The squeaking of the swing is hurting my ears.
Sarah looks up from her phone. “You’re very pale, Jemma.”
She goes over to Mom and asks if she can take me home.
Mom comes and looks at me and nods at Sarah. “Yes, you guys go. We won’t be far behind.”
Sarah pushes me along the sidewalk, past the local stores, the newsstand, and the barbershop.
“Oh, look! See that man coming out of Off-Track Betting?” says Sarah. “I know him—it’s Billy.”
“Hi, Billy!” Sarah calls as the man walks toward us. He has his head down, but his shoulders jolt and he looks up sharply, then stops and smiles at her.
“Sarah!” he says. “You all right?”
Sarah has mentioned Billy. He’s a friend of Dan’s. She said Dan calls him “Billy No Brains,” which sounded mean to me. Sarah just thought it was funny. My head’s really aching now. I hope she’s not going to talk for long with him.
“This is Jemma,” Sarah tells him. “Jemma, this is Billy.” Billy comes around in front of me and smiles at me too. He has a big head, and his smile is so wide it seems to take up most of his face. But he’s a friend of Dan’s, so I’m sure he can’t really be that nice.
“Hi, Jemma. How ya doing?” says Billy. He looks up at Sarah. “Dan’s crazy about you, you know. He don’t say much, but I can tell!”
Sarah laughs. “Really?”
Thanks, Billy, I think irritably. I don’t need him telling her that. Come on, Sarah. Let’s go.
“He’s a good guy, you know. Takes care of his friends. Look, I gotta take off,” says Billy. “Nice to see you.”
Good.
“I’ve got to get Jemma home too,” says Sarah. “She’s not feeling well.”
“Say hi to Dan from me,” says Billy. “Hope you feel better, Jemma.”