Shalia's Diary by Tracy St. John Read Free Book Online

time. Plus he’s as wide as a barn door.  I kept waiting for him to bellow, “Fee-fi-fo-fum!”
     
    “Go back to sleep,” he told me.  “You need the rest.”
     
    Exhaustion was already trying to claw me back under, but I wanted to know how much trouble I was in and mostly how Mom was doing.  “Has my mother been here, or was I just dreaming?”
     
    “Matara Eve spends most of her day in here with you.  I think you’re her one anchor to reality.”
     
    “She’s okay though?  She’s eating?  Not scared?”
     
    He put his palm against my cheek.  For such a huge guy, Dr. Nayun has an amazingly gentle touch.  “Physically, she’s doing very well.  She doesn’t always rest well, but when we get you out of semi-isolation, she’ll be able to sleep in your room.  I think that will help.”
     
    I don’t know why I asked the question.  Maybe I did because I was so out of it.  I mean, I had no reason to trust Dr. Nayun, not one bit.  But my mouth opened, and the words just kind of popped out.  “Can you fix her?  Can you make the dementia go away?”
     
    He blinked at me.  “You mean the buildup of proteins in her brain?”  He patted my cheek, but his look was sad.  “We don’t have the resources here, Matara.  You’ll have to take her to Kalquor for such procedures.”
     
    “But it’s possible on your planet?”
     
    “I couldn’t say.  Brain treatments are tricky.  I’m not qualified for such delicate work myself.  All I can do is perform a basic diagnosis and keep her comfortable until she sees someone who specializes in such matters.”
     
    He’d held out a carrot, and like a stubborn mule I didn’t want to let it out of my sight.  “Still, there is a chance she could be made better, right?”
     
    Nayun nodded.  “There is a chance.  Now I insist you close your eyes, Shalia, or I will be forced to sedate you.”
     
    See what I mean about him being a mother hen?  Or a father giant, ha-ha.  Fee-fi-fo-shut up and go to sleep, Shalia.  But I had run out of steam by then anyway, so I closed my eyes and was out like a light.
     
    I hear someone coming up the hall outside my room.  Probably Nayun again, ready to cluck over me some more, even though I’m no longer on the endangered Matara list.  He’s a good guy.  I don’t know about most Kalquorians, and I’m still leery over what they have planned for me when I’m better, but at least one of them seems decent.  Maybe they can do something to get Mom back into fighting shape.  Look out, Kalquor.  If the real Eve Monroe shows up on your doorstep, you may wish you’d never met Earth.
     
    Well, hello.  Dramok Dusa is walking into my room.  Later.
     
     
    September 6
     
    I know I’m getting better, because I’m going stir crazy.  I swear, if Nayun doesn’t let me get up and go for a walk soon, I’ll yank his beard. 
     
    He’s like a big alien dad.  He told me on more than one occasion, “Take your time.  I’m not going to let you relapse.  Get strong for your mother’s sake if not your own.”  The man must stay up all night writing lines to feed to his patients.
     
    I had a visit from Dramok Dusa yesterday.  He’s another surprise like Nayun in that he seems to be a nice person.  In fact, with the orderlies and Mom’s babysitters (she has three that rotate shifts, keeping tabs on her and seeing to her needs), I have yet to meet one of the monsters we were told Kalquorians are.  Really.  Truly.  They’ve all been nice.
     
    Where are the sex-crazed, primitive abductors I was told about?  Where are the beasts that I produced so many cautionary (read ‘alarmist’) films about?  Not a single one of these men has threatened me in any way.  They treat Mom like a queen, never getting angry when she spills something or starts to wander off or forgets what she’s saying in the middle of a sentence.  She even came back to herself once, the old cranky Eve that never sees anything good in