One Dead Seagull by Scot Gardner Read Free Book Online Page A

hadbeendrownedoutbyachorusoftinybellsmaking
musiclikethetwinklingofstars.Outoftheblacknessin mymindcameaform—violetwaterinfront ofmyeyes thatsuddenlyhadarmsandlegsanddarkhai r .AtfirstI thoughtitwasabirdbutastheformturnedtowardsme Icouldseeitwasalittlegirlwithglowinggreeneyesand
full softlipsthatnevermovedfromawarmsmile,yetI heardhertalkingtome.Thetinybellswerehervoiceand shewhisperedintomymindthateve r ythingwasoka y .I wasgoingtobeallright.Shemovedasiftohugmebut
whenIreachedouttoher
shewasgone, rightthroughme likeawarmbreeze.
    WhenIwokeup,myheadwasthick.Ididn ’ t wantto openmyeyes.Icouldhearquiettalkingneartomebut couldn ’ trecognise
thevoices.Asmelldancedinmynose, thebaresthint ofsomething.Sandalwood.Iforcedmy eyesopenandsawKer r ysittingonthesideofmybedand Den standingbehindhe r .Atthesightofmeblinkinglike aratinaflourbag,herlipquivered.
    Shepickedupmyhandandheldittoherface.‘Hey
    W ayne. Y ou’reback!’
    ‘ Y ou’vebeenintheintensivecarethingfo r ,like,three
days.Backfromthedead.Checkhispulse,Kez.Ishea zombi e o r what? ’ De n darte d acros s th e roo m and shoutedintothehallwa y ,‘He ’ sawake!’
    ThenMumwastherehuggingmeandwettingmyface withhertears,wheezingandsobbing. Bar r yandGracie pushedtheirwayinsidetoo.
    ‘ W ethoughtwe’dlostyou. Y oulostsomuchbloodthat
youalmost .. .thankGodyou’restillhere.’
    Thenitwasa nurse makingafuss,askingmestupidshit likeifIcouldhearherokay
andhowmanyfingersshe was holdin g up . The y al l parte d whe n a n immaculately dressedAsianmancamein.
Helookedlike he’d just steppedout
of akung fu movie.Hisbroadmuscular shoulderswerebarelydisguised under acleanpressed short-sleeve d shirt . Fragil e roun d hipp y glasse s sat comfortablyonhisnoseandhemovedwiththegraceof someonewhocouldpluckyoureyeoutwithhisbigtoe from acrossthe street.He
introduced himself as Dr MichaelChen.Hewavedhistieatme;MickeyMousewas embroideredonitincolou r fulsilk.
    ‘ Y oucancallmeMicke y .Eve r yoneelsedoes,’hesaidin anAmericanaccentthatseemedoutofplacefromaman with eyebrowssofine anddark.‘ Y ougaveusquite a workout. W ethought we’dlostyou—I’veneverseenso muchbloodinallmylife!’
    Ilikedhim.Helookedmeintheeyesashespoketo
me.
    ‘ W ayne,howdoyoufeel?’
    Istruggledtotellhimthatmyarmhurtbutnotmuch soundcameout. Thenursestuckastrawinmymouthand toldmetohaveadrink.ThewaterwascoldandIfeltit
goallthewaydown.
    ‘ W ayne,yourlefthandwasve r ybadlydamagedinthe accidentwiththesa w .Doyourememberthat?’
    Inoddedandhemovedabitcloserpushinghisglasses
backonhisnose,likehewasata goodbitina bedtime sto r y .
    ‘ W ayne,wehadtoamputateyourhand.’ Y eah,goodone.
    ‘Justabovethewrist. T oomuchtissuedamagetoyour
wristandhandtosaveit.I’mve r ysor r yithadtobe that wa y . Y ouwillbeokaytomovearoundinacoupleofdays. Y ouwillbeallright,okay?’
    H e patte d m y han d an d left . Mu m wa s reall y bawling no w , Ker r y too . Grac e wa s honkin g int oa flowe r y hank y . Eve n Bar r y ha da tea r i n hi s eye . Whe nI looke d a t Den , his fac e screwe d u p an d h e dive d ou t int o th e hal l again . All aroun d me , card s an d flower s wer e takin g u p eve r y bi t of spac e tha t wasn ’ t flashin g o r beepin g quietl y a t me .I felt sic k i n th e guts . Wher e th e hel l wa s Dad ? Here ’ s the
weirdes t bit : instea d o f c r ying ,I nearl y pisse d mysel f with laughte r . Shakin g an d shudderin g eve r y tim e
I looked
dow n a t th e nea t bandage s tha tI no w ha d instea d o fa hand .I laughe d lik ea retar d fo r a n hou r , of f an d on . Eve r y tim e Mu m trie d t o comfor t m e o rI though t o f another thin g tha tI wouldn ’ t b e abl e t o do , I’ d jus t los e it . N o more
bik e riding . N o mor e vide o games . Imagin e wha t i t wil l be lik e a t school . Mand y won ’ t wan t t o kno w m e .. . tha t wa s th e hardes t o f all . M y lif e wa s fucked . Wha ta laugh.

 

     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    TheHumesleftfor
MarsCoveontheMonday—aday