A Man Named Dave Read Online Free PDF Page A

allows me to close my mouth. Again, I try to avoid her stare. I bury my trembling fingers in my lap. She shakes her head before standing up and grabbing her clipboard. Every school day, for over a year, the nurse has inspected my body from head to toe before documenting her examinations. Now she mutters to herself as she scribbles her latest findings. Kneeling back down, she delicately massages the palms of my hands. I bite my lip in anticipation. The nurse stares into my eyes as if not knowing what to say.
    Now I’m really scared.
    “I’m sorry, David,” she says as tears seep from behind her glasses. “I was wrong. You weren’t hyperventilating. Your, ah, your larynx … your epiglottis is swollen and your trachea is inflamed. What I’m saying is: this is why you are having trouble breathing. The opening to your throat was cutting off your flow of oxygen. Do you understand?”
    I take a moment to visualize in my mind the nurse’s meaning. I don’t want her to think I’m stupid.
    “When did this happen?” she asks.
    I look away from the nurse’s gaze and stare at my shoes. “I was, uhm …” I fumble for the exact wording to Mother’s cover story, but my brain still feels trapped in a fog bank. “I was … I fell … I fell down the stairs.”
    “David?” she replies, raising her eyebrows.
    “It’s my fault!” I snap back. “I was wrestling and I got out of control and my brothers –”
    “Poppycock!” the nurse interrupts. “You mean your mother knew of your condition … and she still made you run to school? Do you realize what might have happened to you? For goodness sakes, you could have …”
    “Uhm, no, ma’am. Please, I’m better now. Really, I’m fine,” I say as softly and as quickly as I can, before the burning sensation returns. “Please! It’s not her fault! Let it go!”
    The nurse lifts her glasses to wipe away her tears. “No! Not this time! I won’t let it go. I’ve had enough. This is the last straw. This has to be reported to the principal. Something has got to be done.” She stands up and slaps her clipboard against her leg as she marches for the door.
    “No! Pleeze!” I beg. “You don’t understand! If you tell, she’ll –”
    “She’ll what?” The nurse spins around. “Tell me, David, tell me so I have something, anything, to go on! I know it’s her –we know it’s her – but you’ve got to help us, to help you,” she pleads.
    In an effort to relieve the pain I stare up at the ceiling. I wring my hands and concentrate on inhaling tiny puffs of air through my nose. From the corner of my eye I can see the nurse still standing by the door. I slowly turn my head toward her. Tears run down my cheeks. “I, ah … I can’t.”
    “Why? In heaven’s name, why do you protect her? What are you waiting for?” she barks in a rattling voice. “Something has to be done!”
    The nurse’s words pound through my skull. I bite down on my lip until it bleeds. My arms begin to shake. “Dammit!” I blurt out in a squeaky voice. “Don’t you understand? There’s nothing, nothing, that anyone can do! It’s my fault! It’s always my fault. ‘Boy’ this, ‘It’ that, blah, blah, blah. Every day is a repeat of the day before. Even you,” I state with my finger thrust at the nurse, “every day I come in, take off my clothes, you look me over, you ask me about this, about that … for what? Nothing changes, and nothing ever will!” The band around my throat begins to tighten, but I don’t care. I can no longer control my flood of emotions. “Miss Moss tried –”
    “Miss Moss?” the nurse asks.
    “My, ah, my second-grade teacher. She tried … she tried to help and she’s gone .…”
    “David?” the nurse says in a disbelieving tone.
    I bury my face in my hands. “Father tried … and he’s gone, too. You have to understand: everything I am, everything I do, is bad. Everything’s wrong. If you get too close, she’ll… she’ll deal with you, too! No one wins!” I cry. “No one wins against The Mother!” I bend over in a coughing fit. Whatever energy I