Chapter 6: The Doctor’s Plan

They were giggling as they whispered back and forth.

“Are you supposed to wake him up?” asked the first angelic voice.

“I don’t know,” answered the second, her frustration becoming evident. “We don’t really start training until next month, and they didn’t have time to tell me everything.”

I opened my eyes and smiled, hoping to soothe this wrinkle in their plans. But at this very moment, I had a bigger problem. I needed to pee. Bad! And I was not at all sure I could make it to the bathroom alone.

“Good Morning, Ladies! Or is it afternoon? I’ll bet that’s my lunch and you lovely ladies are here to help me eat it,” I said with all the gallantry I could muster even though my eyeballs felt like they were floating.

They stood there, next to my bed, just looking at me as if I had two heads. One was dressed in the ill-fitting light blue uniform of a Nurse’s Assistant and holding my lunch tray. The other was in white capris and a pink top. Twin angels. God’s perfectly matched bookends. Strawberry blonde, like their mother, with blue eyes like my sister Nicky. The blue eyes must run in the family.

“I wonder what color my eyes are?” I thought.

I had been forewarned that they were finishing ninth grade just like Laurie, but they were both a little taller than the diminutive Laurie. Suddenly, I spotted a movement in the doorway.

“Good morning, Sarah. How are you this morning?” I asked my cousin standing at the door.

“Considering it’s just past noon, morning is acceptable. I’m fine. How are you feeling this afternoon?” Sarah replied, her smile giving a lilt to her voice.

“Hungry!” I replied.

“That’s a good sign,” she said.

“However, I have a slightly more urgent problem than hunger,” I told her, glancing from my groin to the bathroom.

“Do you need to go?” Sarah asked.

I nodded.

“Can you get up?” Sarah asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t know. I haven’t actually tried since they removed the catheter and IV,” I said.

“Well, I don’t know what the doctor has allowed. But I don’t think I could support you by myself. Can you use the bedpan?” she asked.

“I don’t think I need the bedpan. Do you have a urinal?”

The twin’s eyes kept getting bigger as this conversation continued. I think this may have been a little more than their quick preparatory nursing lesson had covered.

“Jennifer, set the tray on the table and open the big door under the bedside table,” Sarah directed. “Do you see it?”

Jennifer did as she was told, then stood staring at the assortment of stainless steel containers.

“It’s the one that looks like a curved jar with no lid,” her mother told her.

Jennifer held up the urinal to her mom, who nodded, then looking it over closely, she finally handed it to me. When our eyes met, she blushed deeply.

I took the urinal, clumsily moved it under the covers and my gown, fumbling because of the casts. The girls intently watched my every move. I could almost sense their disappointment when I moved it under the covers.

“Do you need some help?” asked Sarah.

Now their eyes got even larger as the possibility of ‘helping me’ in this delicate endeavor crossed their minds for the first time. While my bladder ached for release, it was tremendously difficult with them both standing inches away and their eyes boring into my groin area.

“Uh ... no,” I told Sarah, with a beseeching look on my face.

She had that little mischievous smile on her face as she took in the scene, then taking pity on me said, “Jennifer, Julie, would you come with me for a moment...” as she stepped out into the hall. I heard a male voice ask if everything was okay. Sarah responded with something about “ ... a lesson in male urinary tract functions...” but I could hear the mirth in her reply.

Sarah and Jennifer returned about two minutes later without Julie. Sarah went immediately to the nightstand and took the urinal to the bathroom, telling Jennifer to begin feeding me lunch.

As with Laurie, Jennifer was slightly lost. I didn’t ask where her sister had gone; instead, I focused on her.

“Hello, Jennifer. My name is Michael and I seem to have misplaced my memory!” I quipped.

She was too intent to get it at first, then, finally, she giggled so I continued.

“I have been told we are cousins, which usually means we have met each other before. But since I can’t remember it, and believe me, I don’t think it’s possible to forget someone as pretty as you, would you tell me a little about yourself, and maybe some secrets about your mom? Just in case she ever picks on me again.”

Jennifer smiled. Her mom, heading for the door, was almost laughing as she told Jennifer, “You better not give him any of MY secrets!” Then she was gone.

I quickly recapped the best way to feed me and she eagerly hopped up on the bed. We began to talk while she worked. She was slightly more reserved than Laurie was, but it soon became obvious that she was very intelligent. While she told me about her school and her family, she also asked me questions.

At one point, discussing her love of science and math, she asked me, “Do you know what the value of pi is?”

“Three point one four something,” I replied automatically.

“If you can remember that, why can’t you remember who you are?” she asked.

“Good question!” I replied. “But the truth is, I don’t know.” And while it is technically true that I don’t know how amnesia works, I was getting dangerously close to a topic I was NOT ready to divulge to her or anyone else.

“Are you looking forward to your Nurse’s Assistant training this summer?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.

I was surprised when she hesitated before answering.

“I’m going because Mom wants my sister and me to do it. I mean, I’m interested in science and all, but I don’t want to spend my life taking care of sick people. But the experience should be good, even if I don’t ever become a nurse. Besides, I’m too young to make any commitments to my future without exploring lots of options.”

I was amazed at the level of maturity in her answer.

“What college are you going to be a sophomore at next year?” I teased.

Jennifer beamed. “I’m going to be a sophomore at Townsend High School, silly!”

“I know. It’s just that you seem so mature for your age,” I replied. “I know I probably wasn’t that smart about my future when I was in the ninth grade.”

“Oh, I remember when you were in ninth grade very well!” she replied and giggled.

“Well, you’ll have to remind me, because I don’t remember. But please, be gentle with me!” I said with mock puppy-dog eyes, as I reached over and tickled her.

The moment I touched her, I felt her confusion. But I was not able to discern, in the brief contact, what the confusion was about.

As we continued to talk, it was obvious she was well read and up to date on a variety of subjects, especially college-oriented ones. She actually had quite a few opinions that showed she had at least some access to adult-type information, above what the average ninth grader had. Such as the war in Viet Nam, the new twenty-sixth amendment, and President Nixon’s reelection campaign troubles.

But I began to notice that, unlike Laurie, she avoided talking about personal things like relationships or other emotional things. This puzzled me because both Laurie and Catherine had mentioned her crush on me.

“Were they both wrong? I must be missing something,” I thought.

“Jennifer, does anyone ever call you Jenny?” I asked.

“Not really. Julie usually calls me Jen, so does my mom sometimes. Everyone else usually calls me Jennifer. Why?”

“Well, like you, I don’t know what the future holds for me. But I do know that you are going to have a special place in my heart, whatever that future is. So I wanted a special name that only I would call you. You know, sort of a secret that, while everybody hears it, nobody but you and I will know what it means.”

Her eyes were moist as she leaned towards me. As I looked into them, I again sensed the conflict and pain. I reached out and touched her cheek with the back of my hand. This time I felt her inner turmoil and began to understand.

Jenny was frightened. She was scared of the changes her body was undergoing, and of these new feelings of attraction and desire. Puberty is an emotional time, yet Jenny was not an emotional person by nature. In addition to the fear, there was also conflict. Gently I began to soothe her with thoughts of hugs and warmth, but it wasn’t working, so I changed my thoughts to admiration, respect, and understanding.

It was as if someone flipped a switch.

Jennifer grabbed me around the neck, straddling my body and clutching my head to her chest. She lay there gyrating slowly against me, as she rubbed her whole body against mine. I let her go on for a moment and then gently pushed her back until I could see her eyes. Softly I said, “Jenny, you feel so wonderful. I’m really looking forward to getting to know you again. And this time, I know it will be special.”

“Oh, Michael! I am so mixed up inside!”

“I know, honey. I know. I get that way, too. But I’m not mixed up about how I feel about you. For some reason, I find myself very attracted to you; to your keen mind and your delicate laugh. I really want to get to know you much better!”

She hugged me again, her tears turning to smiles.

“One more thing. I always thank the person who fed me. May I thank you?”

She looked at me, not understanding, but finally deciding she could trust me.

“Okay,” she said hesitantly.

I pulled her face to mine and kissed her gently on the lips, not a passionate kiss, but a soft kiss, a lingering kiss. And as we kissed, I was aware of her delight at what she felt as I kissed her. Suddenly I felt her become aware of a new feeling inside of her. And she was surprised by it. Because, for the first time in her life, she was touching a guy and she liked it! She began trying to consume my lips with hers.

“Jenny, please ... we have to stop,” I said breathlessly.

She just looked at me, her face inches from mine. She got this crooked little grin on her face, one corner of her mouth turning up, the other turning down. “That was good! I like how you thanked me. I’m gonna feed you a lot, ‘cause I want to do that again!”

“Jennifer,” we both started at the sound of her mom’s voice.

“Baby, they need the tray on the cart so they can get it back to the kitchen.”

Jennifer slid off the bed, shook to straighten out the oversized uniform, and grabbed the tray. It almost looked like she was skipping out the door, when she stopped and said, “I am so gonna have fun feeding you!” and then she scampered out of the room. Her mother turned to stare as the door closed behind her.

“What did you do? I haven’t seen her that happy in months!” she asked amazed at what she had just seen.

“How much did you hear?” I replied.

“I came in at the part where you were giving her a ‘special’ name,” she answered.

“Sarah, I am not an expert...”

“All evidence to the contrary,” she replied angrily, her nostrils flaring slightly.

“As I was saying, I’m not an expert, but ... I think she is dealing with a lot of conflicted emotions.”

“And you thought it would help her if you made them even more conflicted!” she said even more angrily.

“Sarah,” a new voice said, as I saw Catherine walk up behind her. She walked to my bed and placed her hand on my arm. I knew what she wanted and I re-played my memory of what had happened with Jenny and me in my mind for her.

“Give Michael a chance. Jennifer has been dealing with the conflict of being a quiet, reserved little girl, while becoming overwhelmed with the hormonal imbalance of puberty. These new feelings were not fitting with her perceived personal image and she didn’t understand the changes. Michael simply helped her understand that she could feel these things without changing who she is at her core.”

Sarah stood there, deep in thought. What her aunt said made sense on so many levels. And as she looked back, it explained almost perfectly, what she had been seeing in her daughter. But, to date, unable to explain.

I just lay there amazed!

“How had Catherine grasped all of that in maybe five seconds of touching me?” I wondered.

Finally, Sarah looked at me.

“I just don’t want Jennifer to get hurt,” she said a little more calmly.

“I don’t either. But Jennifer WAS hurting, and Michael helped her to see she didn’t have to suffer,” Catherine explained patiently.

“Now, I need to get home,” Catherine said, walking past Sarah to the door. “Sarah, I suggest you think about this, and talk to both Jennifer, and the young Teffeteller girl, what’s her name?”