Shapeshifted by Cassie Alexander Read Free Book Online Page A

conscious of my attempts to avoid stepping on the stain from yesterday’s altercation, trying to locate the source of the sound with my ears.
    “Hey, lady.”
    The kid from yesterday walked up the block. “Hey,” I said back.
    “You still need a limpieza. I can tell.”
    “Yeah, that’s still not gonna happen. I gotta get to work. First day on the job.” I pointed with my thumb to the clinic behind me. He wagged his head in exaggerated disapproval at my playing for the other team. “I’m Edie. Who’re you?”
    “I’m Olympio.”
    “What do you do all day, Olympio?” It was summer now, otherwise I’d have asked him why he wasn’t off at school.
    He grinned, showing uneven teeth. “Try to stop people from going in there. You all can’t do half the things my grandfather can.”
    “How so?”
    “You all take months to figure out what’s wrong with someone, and then pills for the rest of their lives. My grandfather, he can heal you in just one day.”
    As a nurse, I’d heard all sorts of holistic health bullshit. I’d seen patients who’d been burned by cupping, who had made themselves ill by eating mislabeled “remedy” pills contaminated with lead. “Yeah?” I said, my eyebrows rising.
    “Yeah. You got something wrong with you, lady. I can tell. I don’t know what it is, but my grandfather is a great curandero, he’d know.”
    “Well.” I was quiet for a moment, trying to hear the sound again. There was a storm drain across the street—it could be wind going by its entrance. “Well—” I regrouped. “I disagree. No, wait. Actually, I do agree—there’s something wrong with me.” I was sure I looked worried about my mom. I’d seen it in the mirror this morning, in the corners of my eyes. “But it’s not the kind of thing that other people can fix.”
    “My grandfather—”
    “I’m late for work. I brought an extra sandwich, though. For lunch. Maybe I could trade you for it, and you could tell me more. At noontime.”
    He leaned back, casual, ready for wherever business took him. “Hey, I’ll be here trying to rescue people from you all, all day.”
    I grinned at him. “Make sure you stand in the shade. I don’t want to know what your grandfather does for heatstroke.”
    *   *   *
    I went into the clinic. There were already three people waiting. The receptionist saw me and buzzed me in. I went through the door, and as it thunked shut Dr. Tovar stuck his head out of his office. “It’s eight oh five. Are you always late?”
    “Sorry.”
    “I know you didn’t get lost, seeing as you were here yesterday,” he went on, and then pointed down the hall. “Catrina will get you set up. Your first patient’s a tecato, needs a dressing changed on an abscess.” Then he slammed the door.
    Another woman came to my side and rescued me from the hallway, pulling me into a short corridor lined with rooms.
    “I’m Catrina. And he’s not always a hard-ass. He just thought you quit was all.” She wore much the same outfit as she had yesterday, a pink scrub top seamed in purple, with matching scrub pants. She had light brown skin and short cropped black hair. Her face’s angular cheekbones gave her back the traditional femininity that the short hair took away. “Is it true you don’t speak Spanish?”
    “What’s a tecato ?” I asked in response.
    She stuck out her lower lip and blew air up her face. “You’re going to be useless here.”
    “I really want this job,” I protested.
    “Why?” She leaned in toward me. “Are you some sort of stupid do-gooder?”
    “No. Yes. But no.” I took a step away. I couldn’t really say, Hey, I’m looking for Santa Muerte so I can trade her in to get a favor for my mom, and I heard someone talk about her in your waiting room yesterday.
    She crossed her arms and squinted at me. I saw a strange tattoo on the back of one of her fingers, but now was not the time to ask about it. “You have a record?”
    “What?” She’d startled