Chapter 3 ? And
pudding for Christmas
The man with
the box of felt-tip pens said one must call him 'Miss Peterson' but Justin only
called him 'Miss Eterson' because he was jealous and angry.
Miss Eterson
had long, fair princess hair and it was so much longer than Justin?s.
With a furious
face the boy painted thick black lines on his paper and grumbled. Miss Eterson
wanted him to paint with yellow. Princess-hair-yellow.
?Justin,"
Miss Peterson came over to Justin's table and leaned over his drawing with a
big smile. ?Don?t you want to use the yellow pen? Your picture would become so
much brighter."
Justin grumbled
a little more and rubbed a thick black wax layer to the middle of his paper.
The therapist
scribbled something in her file, then sat down to the other side of the table
and watched as Justin drew. With lots and lots of black wax crayon.
Justin was
nervous because of Miss Eterson. He only sat there, staring and he smelled of
violet flowers and hand cream. Justin didn?t like this smell. He didn?t like
Miss Eterson?s thick chest and red finger claws either.
"Oh, what
a beautiful book!" Miss Peterson looked at the book of fairytales which
lay on the table next to the boy. ?May I look at it?"
Justin shook his
head without even looking up. Red finger claws would quite certainly make ugly
finger spots on the pages.
Miss Peterson
smiled friendly. ?My grandmother used to read Cinderella to me."
Justin peeked
up a bit under his long hair strands.
"I loved it.
I wanted to be a princess too and dance with the prince in his beautiful
castle."
Justin blinked
and stopped painting. With big eyes he looked up.
Was this the
reason for Miss Eterson to have such long princess hair? Because he wanted to
dance with Cinderella's prince?
He moved back,
squeaking with the chair, and stuck his head under the table to look at Miss
Etersons shoes. They weren?t made of glass but were pretty and pink with a
glittering bow. Justin wasn?t sure whether these could be real princess shoes
or not.
Miss Peterson
wrinkled her forehead in amusement and bent down too as Justin touched her
right shoe under the table. ?Justin? You drop something on the floor?"
Justin met her
questioning look under the tabletop. Had he? He looked around on the
ground looking for something that could?ve belonged to him, but in the end
found nothing. He shook his head.
Miss Peterson
laughed and sat up straight again, then groaned sympathetically when her
patient bumped his head as he tried to crawl up from under the table.
?Hh!" The
boy immediately held on his forehead and looked frightened at Miss Eterson.
?Oh, Justin. Is
it very bad?" With warm, soft fingers she stroked Justin?s blond hair and
smiled gently. ?Would you like to put some ice on it?"
He thought
about it briefly.? His head was aching
terribly but he wouldn?t want to make things worse by getting cold all over as
well. He trembled visibly, shook his head and then quite automatically leaned
himself a little more into Miss Etersons stroking hand.
She looked at
him kindly. ?You really have wonderful hair Justin. Nice and long."
He
did? A mixture of surprise and joy crawled over
Justin?s innocent features and three of his fingers came up to stroke the blond
strands too. Yes, they definitely were longer than yesterday. It probably
wouldn?t take until Christmas for his hair to grow the right length for the
tower. Presumably only till Thanksgiving. He smiled. There was fried bird
without feathers or a head then too. Perhaps even Pudding with money treasure.
He liked...
??Pudding."
Miss Peterson
grinned. ?Yes, it?s Friday, isn?t it? There?s always pudding for dessert on
Fridays."
It
was? Justin certainly knew that in Harrisburg
there was pudding only at Christmas. But he was in Pittsburgh now. Perhaps it
was already Christmas in Pittsburgh? He got quite nervous at the thought and
hummed the bell song. He liked the tone of bells.
The therapist
watched her patient in confusion as he began to hum a melody that sounded a lot
like Jingle Bells, but then however decided simply to ignore it. ?So Justin,
Blake told me you like the colour green. Perhaps you?d like to use a green
crayon for your next picture?"
Justin turned a
thick blond strand around his finger and showed a happy smile as Miss Eterson
handed him a green crayon. Frog Prince green.
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On Fridays
Blake had the late shift and made his first check on ward number four punctually
at 4:30 pm.
With a little
medicine cup he entered Justin's room and was clearly disappointed to find the
young man with a puffy face once again. He was curled up on the bed with an
opened book of fairytales on the pillow.
?Hello Justin.
How was your day?" Blake sat with his patient on the edge of the bed.
?Miss Peterson told me about the big green frog you drew today at creative
therapy.?
Justin
sniffled.
"Hey,?
Blake bent down a little and stroked Justin?s head. "You?re still sad
about Harrisburg?"
The boy
squeezed his eyes shut as tears flowed again and he sobbed silently.
The male nurse
looked at him taken aback. It wasn?t usual for people with Justin?s diagnosis
to show their emotions so openly, but if they did it was basically impossible
for them to verbalise their feelings.? In
return this made it damned hard for him to help. Like now, in the case of his
newest patient who seemed more than lost in his own little isolated world at
the moment.
Blake looked
around and watched at the books open pages. Rapunzel. A big, grey tower
was shown and a fair-haired girl looked from the upper window. She glanced down
with a hopeful expression, to this beautiful king's son who ready for rescue,
jumped of his horse.
Blake touched
the page thoughtfully and then looked up at his crying patient.
?It?s pretty
sad that the princess had to live all alone in the tower for so long,
hmm?"
Justin didn?t
answer. He only covered his face with both hands and sobbed again.
?I would?ve
been rather frightened. I mean if someone would lock me up in there, you
know?" He continued to stroke his fingers through Justin's hair.
?Fortunately the prince showed up at the end, right?"
The boy said
something through his hands. ?Ch-hristm-mas ca-ame to ea-earl-ly."
Blake carefully
pulled away the fingers and wiped Justin's cheeks with a paper handkerchief.
?Christmas came too early?"
Justin looked
at Plake miserably and nodded.
?But it?s four
months till next Christmas. It?ll be in December quite on time."
The boy shook
his head with tear damp eyes. ?But in Pi-ittsbh- hurgh it?s ri-ight
n-now."
"Yeah?"
Blake looked at the patient closely. ?Who told you that?"
Justin began to
wail loudly and tore himself strongly by the hair. ?N-not P-lake!"
Blake raised his
eyebrows and tried to solve Justin's tense fingers from the blond strands. ?Not
Plake?"
Justin pulled
more strongly and cried out flustered. And the male nurse had no other choice
than to give a little sedative shot into the boys arm. ?It?s ok." He stroked
the kids? forehead gently.
Justin's
movements became dull and his blue eyes were turned towards Blake's face sadly.
Blake smiled.
?It?s ok. Sleep a bit, frog prince."
Three minutes later
Justin breathed evenly in a relaxed sleep and the male nurse left the room to
take a look at the work schedule in the ward room.
He read the
plan for Friday shook his head and went into the next door, the staff room.
?Hey, Teddy.
Did Ethan have the shift at noon today??
Male nurse
Schmidt put down his coffee. ?Ah yes. But he left twenty minutes ago.?
Blake nodded
and smiled. ?Okay then. Thanks.? He went to the desk of the station leader and
sat down at the edge to grab the phone.
It rang and just
a few seconds later a sleepy ?Gold?? was heard.
?Hey Ethan.
Blake here. Sorry to bother you, but Teddy said you had the shift at noon.?
?Yes. Why??
?Mister Taylor at 411 is rather irritated. I had to sedate him.?
?Hmm.?
?Do you know
anything? Was he conspicuous during your shift??
?No. He was
very exited about his lunch, though.?
?What was it??
?I don't
know... chicken, vegetables and caramel pudding. The kid possibly thought it
was a fucking Christmas dinner.?
?
Blake frowned.
?Christmas dinner??
Ethan laughed.
?Yeah, he jabbered something of a money treasure in the pudding and a fried
bird without feathers.?
?Hmm. What did
you tell him??
?Nothing. I
placed the tray in front of him and wished him Merry Christmas. Then I left.?
?You wished him
Merry Christmas? Why??
?I don't know
why! Hell, it was a joke. What's with all the questions, anyway??
Frustrated,
Blake rubbed his hair. ?It's okay. I?m trying to find out what's up with him,
that?s all. Was he inconspicuous after lunch??
?I only looked
after him once as I cleared the tables. He sat crying in front of the mirror.?
?Really? What
did he do there??
?Like I said,
he was all crying. Something about his hair. I don't know, if you?d ask me he
damn well has a good reason to whine and weep with that hair style. The kid
badly needs a decent haircut.?
?Hmm. Ok,
thanks for the information. I appreciate it.? Blake hung up the phone and made
some notes. He never liked his colleague and was absolutely not in any
agreement with Ethan Gold?s work ethics or his often irreverent attitude
against the patients. But at least now he could visualize what happened earlier
to put the little frog prince in his current state of condition.
... speaking of
frogs. Armed with a small roll of cellotape the male nurse headed back to
Justin?s room and searched for the frog drawing from Lindsay Petersons creative
therapy.
The boy would
be happy about some colour on his empty walls.
? ?????????
As Justin woke
up it was early evening. His head hurt a little and somehow he still felt
tired, but he also was hungry. Very hungry.
He sat up and
looked at his blue alarm clock. It was 5:51pm. Almost dinnertime.
Quickly he rose
and washed his hands at the washbasin next to the drawer.
After that he
sat down at his small table and stared at the door.
At 5:54pm he
heard footsteps and bent his head a little to try to look the two meters
distance through the tiny keyhole.
It didn?t work,
but the door opened and Plake entered the room with a piece of paper in one
hand, a tray in the other and a kind smile on his face.
?Hey Justin.
How was your nap??
Justin thought
about it and then answered nothing at all because only kittens knew how to take
a nap and report afterwards about it and he didn?t have any fur.? Though it was a real shame, he would?ve liked
to wash his silky black fur with his tongue. He smiled? purred a little,
stroked his longish hair?. and wrinkled his nose then in distraction. Hmm. His
fur wasn?t black. It was lightly yellow. Princess-Hair-Yellow because he was a
princess.
The male nurse
kept the tray in his hand and gave the paper to the boy. ?That's the lunch
scheme for Pittsburgh. I thought we?d hang it up next to the frog, so that you
always know what you get for lunch.?
Justin followed
Blake?s pointing and his eyes widened immediately.
?Hh!? The
picture of a green frog was hanging at the wall, over the bed! He quickly stood
up from the table, climbed on the mattress and touched the paper with his
fingertips.
Blake grinned while, putting down the
tray. ?See? You drew it at Miss Petersons, remember? It looks nice on the
wall.?
Justin rubbed
over the smooth surface with fascination. It was so green and smelled like pens
and the frog was happy and laughing. Justin laughed too. Loud.
Blake stopped a
moment and beamed likewise. Then he took a small roll of cellotape out of his
pocket and took two little pieces from it.
?Here. We hang
the Pittsburgh lunch plan next to it.? With wide stretched arms he stuck the
black and white paper next to Justin?s frog and smoothed it somewhat.
?Perfect!?
?Perfect!?
Justin echoed the word in an exact copy of Blake?s voice and grinned at the
black and white scale.
?Mondaytuesdaywednesdaythursdayfridaysaturdaysunday.?
?Right, the
whole week.? Blake pointed explaining at the scheme. ?You see, here is Friday.
Breakfast, lunch, supper. What do you read at supper??
Justin stared
at the plan in earnest concentration. ?Potato salad.?
Blake stifled a
grin and tried to keep a mature tone. ?Justin. I don't mean your supper in
Harrisburg. Read what you get in Pittsburgh.?
?Potato salad,
potato salad.? The boy whispered, while
pretending to read from the list.
The male nurse
grinned and probed his young patient playfully to the side. ?Nooo. No potato salad. It?s red beet, dark
bread, soft cheese and liverwurst.?
?Potato salad.?
Justin really didn't like red beet.
Blake sighed
and shrugged his shoulders with a grimace. ?Okay, you're right. Potato salad is
definitely better than this grub.?
?Potato salad.?
Justin smiled brightly at Plake.
Blake smiled
back. Then he pointed again at the plan. ?Here, do you still know what you got
for lunch??
Justin looked
at the column Friday-Lunch, read it and immediately turned his head
away.
?Justin?? Blake
remained calm. ?It says you got yams, fried chicken, peas and caramel pudding
for dessert.?
The boy mimicked
a motionless concrete column perfectly as he stared disinterested in the other
direction.
?Was it tasty,
hmm? Fried chicken and pudding? I'm sure you like pudding.?
The patient
didn't reply, but started rocking unconsciously.
?When did you
get pudding in Harrisburg? Mondays??
?Christmas,
Christmas...? murmured Justin scarcely audible. ?Pudding at Christmas.?
?You thought
that today was Christmas? Because you got pudding??
Justin rocked a
little harder and his fingers wandered to his hair.
Blake grasped
his small wrists. ?Ethan has brought you your launch at noon, am I right??
?Not Plake...?
The boy tried to release his hands from Blake?s grip. ?Not Plake.?
?No, not Plake.
I was at home. Ethan also works here. He brought you your dinner and wished you
a 'Merry Christmas'.?
?Merry
Christmas.? echoed Justin weakly. ?Merry... merry.?
Gently Blake
stroked the boys arm. ?It was just a joke Justin. Ethan has made a joke. It
isn't Christmas here in Pittsburgh.?
?Merry,
merry...?
?Just a joke, Justin.?
?Joke, Justin.?
?Yeah exactly.
Just a joke. It isn't Christmas.?
?Not
Christmas.?
Blake reached
for Justin?s chin and turned it around to create eye contact. He looked at Justin
and shook his head. ?Absolutely not Christmas. In Pittsburgh you get pudding
and chicken on Fridays. Not at Christmas.?
The boy looked
silently at Blake who tried to use this attention.
?Don't you like
Christmas??
Justin blinked.
?Hmm, Justin? You don?t like Christmas? Why were you sad??
?Hair isn?t
long enough. Certainly not long enough.? Justin?s gaze turned blank and he
reached for his hair, touching lightly the end of the strands.?
Blake let him.
?Not long
enough.?
Blake tried to
make sense of what the boy was saying. ?Your hair must be long for Christmas??
?Certainly too
short.?
?Why? Why do
you want long hair for Christmas??
Justin?s gaze
still was blank but he began to smile and climbed off the bed. Excited he took
the fairy tale book from under the pillow, turned the pages and finally opened
it to page 17. As if that alone would explain everything.? He looked at Blake, smiling brightly. ?I get
the same.?
Blake frowned and
looked at the drawing of Rapunzel, the tower and the prince. ?The same??
Justin nodded
and accurately followed the length of Rapunzel?s long fair hair with his
finger. ?Down to the bottom.?
?Hmm.? Blake
smiled. ?She certainly has damn long hair. You want the same??
Justin didn't
take his eyes off of the picture as he reached for his own blond wisps or hair
and wrapped some of them around his finger.
?It doesn?t
grow that fast Justin. You have to wait.?
He didn?t use
his natural voice for speaking these words, so Blake assumed, Justin imitated
someone else who told him things like that.
?You must be
patient for your hair to grow long? You have to wait? Until Christmas??
Justin nodded
and again rubbed with one finger along Rapunzel?s hair length. This time with a
sad gaze. ?Christmas comes too early in Pittsburgh.?
?Nope.? Blake
smiled and touched his hand to Justin?s cheek. ?Remember? Ethan has only made a
joke. It isn't Christmas in Pittsburgh yet. We always eat pudding.?
?Not Christmas
in Pittsburgh.?
?No.? Blake
prodded Justin?s nose with his finger and the boy giggled because it was funny.
?Hey listen. Do you want to eat your supper now??
The corner of Justin?s lip curled into a cheeky grin. ?Potato salad.?
Blake sighed.
?Uh, boy you?re killing me ...?
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A/N: Thanks to
Miguel for the ?Miss Eterson? Storypic. It?s really sweet J