View From a Kite by Maureen Hull

Author:Maureen Hull [Hull, Maureen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, Historical, General, JUV000000, JUV039030
ISBN: 9781551095912
Google: 2azjAQAACAAJ
Amazon: 1551095912
Goodreads: 1878734
Publisher: Vagrant Press
Published: 2006-03-01T05:00:00+00:00

“Completely dead.”

“Dead as a doornail.”

“Dead’s a churchmouse.”

“ ‘s poor as a churchmouse.”

“S’it?”

“Yeah…poor’s a churchmouse…not dead as.”

“Churchmouse?”

“Yeah.”

“ ‘S hard to say.”

“Yeah.”

CHAPTER 32

Denise has a new project. She has decided I need to be unburdened of my virginity. It’s the only thing, she says, that will heal up the hole in my lung. There’s no talking to her; once she gets an idea in her head, you might as well forget it. Not that I plan to surrender my virginity, but I’ve given up arguing with her about it because one, it’s a waste of my energy, and two, it gives her something to do to keep her mind off her drug resistance.

She’s going about the whole thing in a very organized fashion and has catalogued every available male in the place. She’s divided them into categories and sub-categories. Chemistry, she says, is everything. She stole a blood-pressure machine and has taken to flashing strips of paper with guys’ names on them and taking my blood pressure immediately afterwards to see if the sight of any particular name causes a rise in pressure. My arms are getting sore from being squished numb twenty times a day.

“It would be better if we could have the guys come in one by one,” she complains. “This isn’t really the best way. Or pictures—even pictures would be better.”

“You’re right,” I agree. “There’s too much margin for error with this method. For instance, when I read ‘Jimmy MacKin non,’ I immediately thought of this guy called Jimmy in grade two who used to pick his nose and eat it. I almost threw up, and I’m sure that skewed the results.”

“I’m going to have to get pictures of them all. Or at least the A list.” She frowns.

“Probably the B list, too,” I say, hoping the project will bog down while she’s trying to gather pictures from these guys.

“We’ll start with the A list for now.” She folds up her blood-pressure kit and heads for the men’s ward to start soliciting photographs.

“I really think we need the B list,” I yell after her.

“I didn’t need no blood-pressure machine with Nelson,” says Evvie, somewhat smugly, I think.

“Well, some of us are just lucky and some of us just aren’t,” I say.

“I guess so.” She nods her head.

Evvie’s looking better and better every day. It’s amazing what three meals a day and a chance to rest has done for her. Her only problem is that she misses Nelson and the babies. Can’t wait to get back to them. Nelson and his sister-in-law, Faith, brought the babies as far as the parking lot last Sunday. They held them up below our window and waved their little arms at Evvie and Evvie hung out the window and blew kisses and called out baby talk until she got hoarse and started a coughing fit. Then she sobbed and snivelled for an hour after they left. She’s determined to gain five more pounds, Dr. Grass’s ultimatum, so she can go home for a weekend visit.

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