Head Spinners (4 page)

How could this happen? it began. Did I do something wrong when I was pregnant?

What if someone discovers what's happened? A kid at school? A parent? What if they went to the media? They'd have a field day with something like this. I can't stand to think how they'd treat her. The awful things they'd say. I'm scared we're on the edge of disaster. Something like this could affect the rest of her life.

If this gets out, I'm scared I won't be able to protect her anymore.

I shut down the computer after that. Reading Mum's diary made me feel like a freak all over again. No wonder she couldn't stand to look at my new arm. All she saw were the ways it might make my life worse.

My new arm was something amazing for me, but something entirely different for Mum.

Later that week, Mum was over the moon because we were referred to see a doctor whose name had been mentioned a couple of times already. He was a specialist at the children's hospital – Dr Alexander Drew.

Dr Drew was different right from the start – efficient and confident, jolly even. He acted as if he dealt with this kind of thing all the time.

‘Don't worry, Ms Miskin,' he said, smiling at us from across a huge desk. ‘We'll have your daughter fixed up in a jiffy.' He smiled reassuringly. ‘It's quite fascinating, really. Just the human body throwing up a random mutation. Nothing to worry about at all.'

Mum seemed to grow in her chair like a flower. She smiled as she listened, nodding here and there rather than asking questions as she usually did.

Soon the discussion moved to things like admittance forms and operation procedures.

‘I'm expecting a fast recovery time,' said Dr Drew. ‘This is a straightforward procedure.'

That's when it hit me. This man was going to cut off my new arm. Of course he was. What else had I been expecting?

As Dr Drew's voice faded into the background, a cold space settled in me. My new arm was a mutation . . . but it was also part of me. I tried to imagine how I'd feel once it was gone. Not the same as before, I knew that already. It would be as if something was missing.

But I had to get used to the idea of not having it around. Without my new arm, everything would go back to normal.

Mum would look at me again.

The next day, Mum and I were back at the hospital. But this time I was clutching a bag of clothes and my favourite electronic game. I had three days of tests booked in and no date yet for
the operation.

When we stepped out of the lift on the top floor there didn't seem to be any signs for
Ward 5G. Eventually a nurse noticed us looking lost. She stared at me curiously when Mum told her which ward we were looking for, but she didn't say anything. She led the way to a door with no sign on it, punched a code into a small keypad and ushered us through.

Inside, it was still and quiet. The walls were sky blue.

As we walked up to the nurses' station, movement on a computer monitor behind the desk caught my eye. A strange feeling came over me as I recognised myself standing next to Mum. The ward obviously had a whole closed circuit TV network hooked up through its computers.
I checked for the camera, and found it high up in the corner above the door. Mum handed over a few more forms, and another nurse showed me to my room.

‘Well, isn't this lovely?' said Mum once the nurse had gone. She pushed down on the bed a couple of times, as if we'd just checked into a hotel.

But I wasn't looking at my bed; I was looking at the three other beds in the room. One was clearly empty, but the two others had bedding, get-well cards on the bedside table and clipboards at the end . . .

I wasn't the only one.

Mum wanted to stay and help me unpack, but I told her not to hang around.

There wasn't anything scheduled for the rest of the day and I knew she'd be back in
the morning for the next round of tests.

‘Don't worry. I'll be fine.'

For a moment Mum frowned at me. Then she nodded. ‘Alright,' she said. ‘But call me whenever
you want. I don't mind what time.'

‘Okay, thanks.' A quick hug, then she was gone.

I looked around. One of the beds had a soft floppy elephant on the pillow and fairy cards everywhere. The other bed was more of mystery. Someone was definitely using it, but there was nothing to show how old they were.

For something to do, I checked out the bathroom. No surprises there. Then, feeling self-conscious, I poked my head into the hall. No one was at the nurses' station. I could hear faint canned laughter.

I followed the sound past a door with another keypad and to a room signed common room. It was painted bright yellow and had shelves stacked with books and board games. An episode of Get Smart was on the TV.

‘Hello. What's your name?' said a little girl, standing up from the rug. She was only about as tall as a toddler, but her face made her look six or seven.

‘Hi, I'm Brooke,' I said, and stepped forward so I could see what she was doing. Puzzle pieces were strewn around her feet. It was obvious straight away why she was here – she had a huge lump at the top of her back.

She was a hunchback. Poor thing . . .

‘I'm Erin, and that's Jack,' she said, pointing at the back of an armchair that was facing the TV.

Feeling nervous, I stepped around the armchair. What was I going to find?

A boy about my age turned and looked me up and down. For a moment his eyes stopped on the bulge of my sleeve. ‘Hi,' he mumbled before turning back to the TV.

‘Hi,' I said, trying to look him over without being too obvious. He was wearing a baseball cap and seemed completely normal.

Erin tugged at my sleeve. ‘Do you believe in fairies?' she whispered.

‘Ah . . .' I wasn't sure how to answer that.

‘Because I can show you for real,' she cried. ‘Look!'

The next thing I knew, Erin was pulling off her windcheater. Underneath she was wearing a tank top . . .

I gasped and stepped back.

Between Erin's shoulderblades was a folded pair of wings. They weren't sparkly and colourful like fairy wings. I could see thin fingers of bone inside a fleshy membrane.

‘See? It's me! I'm a real live fairy!' she chanted, jumping up and down.

I swallowed. Other than their flesh-pink colour, they looked like the wings of a bat.
A wave of nausea washed through me. I was repulsed, but at the same time I couldn't look away. Was this how Mum had felt when she first saw my arm?

‘Can you fly?' I managed.

Erin stopped jumping, and pouted. ‘No,' she said. For a moment I thought she was going to cry, then I realised she was concentrating, holding her breath.

Slowly the wings unfolded. They were wider than I'd realised. Networks of blue veins stretched beneath the skin.

I opened my mouth, searching for something to say.

Erin breathed out in a rush. ‘I can't even flap them. Dr Drew says he needs to cut them off because I'm not growing like other kids. But I don't mind being small. Really. Fairies are meant to be small. Are you going to get something cut off your arm?'

Now I was speechless for another reason. I hadn't even noticed her looking at my arm. ‘Yes,' I said, pulling off my jacket so that Erin could see. ‘I am.'

For the first time I started to feel glad to have found Dr Drew. I didn't want to live my life with people thinking the things about me that I'd just thought about Erin.

After a close inspection, Erin looked up at me. ‘Dr Drew's a good doctor, isn't he?' she said.

‘Yeah, we're lucky to be here, I reckon.' As I spoke, something made me look at Jack's armchair. He was scowling around the backrest at me.

When he saw me glance over, he disappeared from view.

So I sat down on the floor next to Erin and settled in to watch Get Smart.

A bit later, Erin's mum turned up and stayed while we settled in for the night. It was nice to have someone's mum around, not that I was homesick exactly. The nurses were friendly enough.

I didn't think I was going to sleep very well in the ward, but I must have because later that night, something woke me up. It was Jack, shaking my shoulder.

I opened my eyes and yawned.

‘Want to see something?' he asked.

In bare feet we slipped across to the common room. A radio was playing faintly in the nurses' station, but no one noticed we were up.

Without a word, Jack pulled off his cap and turned his back to me.

I rubbed my face, wondering groggily why he still wore that cap at night. He was staring at the wall. Strange guy.

Then the creepiest sensation came over me. It was like when you realise someone is watching you, but you're not sure how you know. Then you turn to see, and there really is someone watching you . . .

That was because I was being watched, by an eye in the back of Jack's head. It was a light-brown eye complete with eyelashes and eyebrow, peering out from a bald patch at the back of his head. It was the most unnerving thing.

When the eye blinked, I gasped and covered my mouth with a hand. ‘Can you see me?'
I asked, even though I knew the answer. That eye was focused, staring right at me. I wanted to turn away.

‘Sure,' said Jack to the wall. ‘Go on, hold up some fingers. Everyone wants to.'

Slowly, I raised my hand, holding up three fingers. ‘Wait, hold on,' I said. Spreading them as wide as I could, I held up four fingers of my new hand, plus two on each of my others.

Jack snorted. ‘Two plus two, plus four makes eight. Very funny.'

He hooked his cap back on his head, and turned to face me. When our eyes met, I knew we were thinking the same thing. No one else in the world could have done what we just did.

‘So how . . .' I started. ‘I mean, I don't get . . .'

‘I'm not very good at seeing in three-sixty degrees. It's hard and disorienting,' he said.
‘I see behind me best when I have my other eyes closed.' He glanced out the door, then back to me. ‘Or if I flick my focus: in front, behind, in front, behind. To be honest, I use it most at night. When I'm sleeping, my third eye can take stuff in.'

I nodded, not sure what to say. A new arm was pretty useful, but a new eye was out of this world.

‘Anyway,' said Jack and adjusted his cap. ‘Come on. Follow me.'

It wasn't until he was pushing numbers on a keypad at the end of the hall that I realised Jack's eye wasn't the reason he'd woken me. There was something else he wanted me to see.

The door clicked and swung open. Jack grinned.

‘We're not meant to be doing this, are we?' I said evenly.

He shrugged. ‘Being a freak has got to have some benefits, don't you think?'

I looked past him into the darkness, unsure.

‘Are you coming in or not?'

I nodded.

Quietly Jack shut the door behind me and flicked on a light. We were in an office. Big desk, bookshelves, computer, swivel chair . . .

For a moment I thought about jumping on to check if anyone was online, but Jack was already pushing buttons on another lock.

‘How did you work out the codes?' I whispered.

‘How do you think?' When the second door clicked, Jack pushed it open and switched on another light. ‘Turn out that light, will you?'

Switch flicked, I followed him into the next room. It was the most amazing place.