Symby (8 page)

Missy seemed to improve every day. She had learned how to get Symby to provide a dose of what she had come to view as her new drug whenever she felt she needed one. Symby was dosing her three times daily, a few drops at a time. She had worried that Symby's attachment to Jody and Snuffles would somehow depress him and prevent him from helping her, but he seemed to be fine living with her.

She had managed to keep the secret from her parents so far. Symby was small and didn't make any noise besides his "good vibrations," as she had started to call them. Jody had been right about how easy it was to take care of Symby. Symby didn't have to be walked or have his litter changed. She had begun to love Symby and view him as her pet. After ten days with Symby, she felt much stronger. She had gained almost five pounds and her skin was starting to return to the way it had looked back when she could still surf. The bruises were gone. Her aches and pains had disappeared.

Her father knocked on her door. "Come on, honey, it's time to go. We can't be late."

"O.K., Dad, I'll be right out," she answered. It was time for another visit to the clinic. They were trying something called "naturopathic" treatment. She didn't have much faith in it, but her parents did. They used a lot of big words like botanical, homeopathic and auricular something, but it really just sounded like lots of vitamins and herbs. Today's treatment was actually worse than chemo. She hated having needles stuck into her. "Acupuncture sucks," she thought. At least these treatments weren't likely to do any real damage, unlike some of the procedures she had undergone in California.

Her father adopted his usual happy-go-lucky persona as he drove, telling jokes and kidding her in an effort to keep her spirits up. The truth was that he needed more of a pep talk than she did at this point. Her dad used his sense of humor to shield his own pain. Her disease was hurting him almost as badly as it was her. If Symby or this new clinic couldn't cure her and she eventually died anyway, at least she had lived with love.

The peculiar odor of disinfectants and rubbing alcohol greeted them when they walked through the doors of the clinic. All of these medical places seemed to smell the same, Missy noted. The medical personnel all dressed the same, too, wearing the standard "scrubs" that differed only in their color. Her father signed in at the desk, and then they walked down the hall to room 106. The door to room 106 opened to a small waiting area. A receptionist wearing scrubs forced them to wait for a while in front of her sliding window before acknowledging their presence. When the window finally slid open, Missy's father spoke plainly.

"Melissa Bryant, 10:00 appointment."

The receptionist or nurse or whatever she was nodded and asked them to take a seat. Melissa had just begun reading an interesting article about the hot new boy group she liked when the door opened. Another woman wearing flowered scrubs escorted her to a standard examination room. This woman took her blood pressure and weighed her. "Why do they always do that?" she thought. The woman explained that the Doctor would be with her shortly and made a quick exit. "Three people so far just to get me to the Doctor," thought Missy. "No wonder medical care is so expensive." This was the part she hated most. She didn't like being left alone in a small room without even a magazine to read. She took a seat on the padded examining table. Her previous experience told her that this would be the longest wait of all. She wasn't wrong. After fifteen minutes, the Doctor finally appeared. She was tall and thin with long arms and legs. Her blond hair rested in a bun atop her head, making her appear even taller. Even with her glasses on, Missy could tell she was beautiful.

"I've got a supermodel for a Doctor," she thought. She wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not.

"I'm Doctor Rennick," she said. "You can call me Sue, if you'd like. Please tell me you're Melissa, or I'm holding the wrong file." She smiled a warm smile. Missy hadn't met a Doctor with a sense of humor yet. She could tell they were going to get along just fine.

An hour later, Missy was back in the lobby with her father.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

"First she just explained a bunch of stuff about what acupuncture is and how they do it. Then she stuck a bunch of needles in my hip and went away. Then she came back and took out the needles and sent me back out here."

"Did it hurt?" asked Ken.

"No, not really, but I doubt that it helped either." Missy was feeling frustrated that her father was spending money on treatments that he thought were helping her, when she knew that Symby was responsible for her remarkable recovery. "To be honest, Dad, I'm not sure I really need their help any more. I've been feeling a whole lot better lately."

Ken winced. He had noticed that she had been looking quite a bit better recently. Was it possible that she had gone into remission? This development was a bit of a double-edged sword. If she truly was in remission, it would be the miracle that he and Lisa had prayed for. On the other hand, her timing could have been better. If she had begun feeling better just a few months ago, he would still have the business he had worked so hard to build and they wouldn't have had to sell their home in California. He chided himself for even thinking such thoughts. After all, he knew which side of the sword he preferred.

"You know, you have been looking healthier lately, I guess this Jody boy has been working some magic with you, huh?" he teased.

"I guess you could say that, Dad. I don't think I can live without him." She was telling the truth, in more ways than one.

"Be careful, honey," said Ken. "He seems like a nice kid, but it's wrong to think you can't live without him."

"Or not," she thought. She was enjoying her little game of cat and mouse. She was aching to tell him what was really happening, but she had promised Jody she wouldn't tell her parents. She wasn't about to betray the boy who had probably saved her.

"Can you take me to school, Dad? I can still get there for lunch and the afternoon classes." And Jody, she thought.

"Wow, since when have you gotten so dedicated to school? Oh, I get it. Your knight in shining armor awaits, right, princess?"

Missy cooed, "I'm still your princess, too." She was really good at manipulating her father.

"Okay, honey, we're on our way to school. Say hi to Jody for me when you see him."

Missy arrived at school between classes. Her footsteps reverberated as she walked through the empty hallway. Stopping in at the nurse's office, she obtained a hall pass with her Doctor's note just in case she was challenged by a monitor. She plopped herself down in front of Jody's locker, waiting for classes to let out. Shortly after the bell rang, she watched with delight as Jody's face lit up when he saw her sitting in front of his locker. She stood up and greeted him with a warm hug. "Hi, boyfriend, how goes it?" she said brightly.

"Much better now that you're here," said Jody. "How did your appointment go?"

"Acupuncture sucks," she said. "They also stuck a big needle in my hip for a marrow sample, and that was it."

"Sounds painful," stated Jody.

"Not really, they give me an anesthetic before they do it. I've had so many of them that I'm used to it."

"If they're looking at your chromosomes and your blood and all that, do you think Symby's medicine has changed anything in your blood or your body that would clue them in to what he's doing for you?"

"I don't know," answered Missy. "I don't really know what they look for. They just tell me what they think I need when they're done. To be honest, I'm starting to think that this whole thing with the clinic is pointless. I'm already so much better. I really think Symby is curing me. I've gained five pounds since you gave him to me. My bruises have all healed. I never feel tired any more. I actually told my father that I didn't think I need to go to the clinic because I felt so much better. It's really amazing. I think Symby is curing me almost as fast as he cured you."

"Well, let's hope they don't get suspicious. How's Symby doing?"

"He's fine. I don't think he minds staying in my doll trunk when I'm gone. I've figured out how to get him to give me medicine when I want it. All I have to do is stroke him and talk to him for a while, and next thing I know he gives me a dose. It's weird, like he seems to know what I want."

"Cool, that's pretty much how it went with me," said Jody. "Do you think I can come over to your house tonight?"

"How about if we just viddy? I thought it was funny when I told my dad that I couldn't live without you after he made a comment about my getting better because you were working your magic on me. It kind of backfired, because now he's concerned that we're too attached to each other."

Jody laughed, trying to hide his disappointment. "That's funny. All right, so we'll just viddy tonight." His dejection was caused by more than just his inability to see Missy. He was getting worried. The times for his jogs to school were gradually increasing. His muscles were starting to tighten again. He was regressing. Snuffles also seemed to be slowing down. Sooner or later, he would have to ask Missy if he could have Symby back again. He decided that sooner would be better.

"Missy, I have to tell you something that I've been holding off on, because I really wanted to stay focused on curing you. It's not good news."

Missy looked uneasy. "What?" she asked tentatively.

"Ever since you've had Symby, I've been gradually getting worse. I'm still okay for the time being, but I can feel my muscles starting to stiffen again. I can still run, but it's taking me longer now to get to school. I'm really worried. I thought I was cured, but..."

Missy interrupted, countenancing both fear and sorrow. "So Symby's medicine doesn't work forever? That's what you're saying, right?"

"Right," admitted Jody. Missy was stunned. Her mind raced. If Jody's disease was coming back, then her disease would almost certainly return as well. She thought for a moment and then spoke the words that Jody was hoping to hear.

"I think Symby puts out enough medicine for both of us, so why don't we just share him?"

"I can go a couple more days without Symby's medicine, so you keep him for now. If I keep getting worse, then we'll have to figure out a way to share him, okay?"

"Do you think there's enough medicine in Symby for Snuffles too?" asked Missy.

"I don't know," answered Jody, "but without Snuffles, we'd both be back to where we were before, so I think we have to include him if we can."

"What if there's enough for me and you, but not for Snuffles? What do we do then?"

"We'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it," answered Jody. "For now, you keep Symby and later we'll try to share him, okay?"

"Okay, but you have to be honest and tell me if you're really feeling bad. I'll give him back to you full-time if you need him. After all, you had him first."

Her words comforted Jody, reminding him of why he had fallen in love with her in the first place. "Like I said, you keep him for now," said Jody. He wanted to be her hero, even if it caused him pain. "We can figure out how to share him later, but you have to keep getting better right now, because your disease is worse than mine. I've got years before I die from my disease, but you might only have months."

"Okay," said Missy. "For now." Another chilling thought occurred to her. She wondered whether to broach the subject now or wait for a better moment. No time like the present, she finally decided. She had been living by those words ever since her disease had first been diagnosed. She was willing to bet that Jody had already thought of the problem she was about to bring up.

"Jody, if we need Symby to keep giving us medicine to keep our diseases from coming back, then what happens if Symby dies? What if he only lives for a year?" she asked fearfully.

"I've been thinking about that ever since my symptoms started coming back. I guess then we end up like Algernon."

"Who is Algernon?" asked Missy.

"Algernon is a fictional mouse in an old novel called
Flowers for Algernon
that I read in elementary school. A scientific experiment makes him really smart, but the effects don't last. He ends up reverting back to his original state and then he dies. Now that I think about it, Symby is a lot like Algernon, small and furry, I mean." As he watched Missy's eyes widen with alarm, Jody immediately regretted mentioning Algernon. He tried to reassure her.

"Hey, why don't we just assume that Symby is immortal? For all we know, he might be. We're both used to living day by day, so let's just be grateful for each day that we have with Symby."

"I guess you're right," she responded. "It's just that having my hopes raised after I had already gotten used to the idea of dying early makes it even harder to deal with."

"I'm with you on that," said Jody. "It might have been better never to have met Symby in the first place."

"No, that's not true," said Missy. "Even if Symby's cures aren't permanent or he dies, we're still getting extra time."

Jody agreed with her on that point. The two of them hugged each other goodbye when the bell rang for next class. Jody noticed that Missy clasped him even more tightly than she normally did. It felt almost as if she were holding on for dear life. Perhaps she was.

Jimmy Hines moved out into the main hallway from the corner he had been loitering in and watched Jody and Missy walk up the hallway in the opposite direction, their backs to him. He felt confident that neither of them had been aware of his presence just a few feet away from Jody's locker. His suspension had passed, but his animosity towards Jody and Missy had not. He had been stalking both of them from the day he had returned to school, trying to think of a way to get back at them for the humiliation they had inflicted upon him.

He had not been able to understand how Jody had been able to beat him up. It was bad enough to be beaten, but being beaten by a cripple had destroyed his reputation as the toughest kid in the school. Word had spread quickly and he had become a laughing stock. Even worse, now that he had already been suspended, another incident would result in even more severe penalties, so another fight was no longer an option.

Jimmy didn't fully understand everything he had heard, but he was excited nevertheless. He had no idea who or what Symby was, but it was clear that they were both convinced that a small animal named Symby was curing their diseases. Perhaps they were just making Symby up to as a fantasy to make them feel better about their diseases, but then why would they be so concerned about how long Symby would live? The idea that a little animal could cure Jody seemed ridiculous to Jimmy, but something had in fact made Jody strong enough to beat Jimmy in a fight. Jody may have said that his symptoms were returning, but he still looked like he had been cured. Now that he thought about it, Missy too looked quite a bit better than she had when she had first arrived at school.

Whether this creature they had named Symby was actually curing them or not, Jimmy had learned all he needed to know to take his revenge on both Jody and Missy. This thing called Symby was in Missy's doll trunk. Jimmy had already researched Missy's address and scanned her BFF.com web site in his efforts to find something he could use against her. She lived less than a quarter mile away from him, about a mile from the school. He knew that Missy's mother worked full-time because Missy had mentioned her mother's new job in one of her viddys. If Jimmy were lucky, her father might also be working at one of his lawn jobs. Jimmy quickly headed up the hallway and out the door of the school. He could hear a hall monitor calling to him from behind, but the voice quickly faded away as he pedaled rapidly up the street on his bicycle. If he had to serve a few detentions for cutting class, this would be well worth it, he thought.

As he pedaled, Jimmy realized that he would have to stop at his house to pick up a few things before he could make the trip to Missy's house. He dreaded the thought of going home because he never knew what awaited him there. He hoped that he could sneak into the garage and out again without his father even noticing. If his father did see him, then hopefully today would be one of his father's good days, just a short conversation and back out the door. He would tell his father that he had forgotten one of his books that he needed for school. If his father had been drinking, then all bets were off. He might never make it to Missy's house. Still, he needed the stuff from the garage if he were to take his revenge.

Jimmy's house was old, built back in the thirties before everyone had two cars. The garage was behind the house, detached from the main building. Jimmy pedaled alongside the house directly to the garage. Positioning his bike against the side wall of the garage, he opened the side door and walked in. He grabbed a pair of gardening gloves and his father's crow bar from his tool bench and crept back out the door. Placing the items in the carrier basket behind his bike seat, he climbed back on and pedaled as fast as he could towards the street. He blanched as he heard his father calling to him when he was just a few feet away from the street. He kept pedaling, contemplating the price he might pay for failing to stop when he returned. "Still worth it," he thought.

Jimmy was drenched in sweat by the time he turned onto Missy's block. He stopped about fifty yards from the house and surveyed the neighborhood. He didn't see anybody on the street. He rode up closer to Missy's house and scanned her home from across the street. He wasn't surprised at how small her house was, as she had mentioned that they had sold a big home in California and moved to a tiny, one-story home. Missy had also revealed the location of her bedroom-in the back on the right. She had not disclosed the existence of a tall, solid white fence encasing the entire property, but Jimmy exulted when he saw it. The fence had probably been intended either to keep dogs in or prying neighbor's eyes out. The last thing Jimmy wanted at the moment was curious neighbors. Missy hadn't mentioned owning a dog in her videos, the one obstacle that would have prompted Jimmy to climb back on his bicycle and pedal away.

Jimmy scanned the street nervously once again and then pedaled furiously into Missy's driveway all the way to the back of the house. He used his kickstand to keep his bicycle erect on the sidewalk leading to the back entrance. He was encouraged to find that neither a garage nor a car was concealed behind the house out of his view from the street. As far as he could tell, no lights were on in the house either. Now convinced that he was alone, Jimmy prepared for the riskiest part of his venture. He pulled the gardening gloves and the crow bar out of his bicycle basket and pulled the gloves over his hands. Holding the crowbar, he crept alongside the house towards the room that he was sure would be Missy's. He had hoped that she would have a window at the back of the house, but no such luck. Even so, high bushes next to her window kept him largely hidden from the street. He peered into the window. The sun cast its light through the window into the room, making it easy for Jimmy to determine what was inside. The room's contents matched the video perfectly, right down to the boy band posters.

When Jimmy realized that the window was unlatched, he began to think that this was too easy. He had expected to force the window open with the crow bar, cracking wood and generating noise that might draw attention. Destroying the screen with the crow bar proved to be easy.

Jimmy climbed in. His heart was pounding, but it was a feeling he was getting used to. This was Jimmy's third home invasion. He felt as though he was getting better each time. Jimmy's father didn't have the money or the desire to buy him the stuff that he wanted, so Jimmy had decided to get the things he wanted by taking matters into his own hands. At fourteen, he was already an experienced burglar.

Jimmy perused the room. There was a small desk in the corner with one of the latest internet tablets lying on it. He debated taking it, but that might cause more problems than it was worth. Missy and Jody had mentioned that they were trying to keep Symby a secret. If he took only Symby, the odds were that they would not even report his crime. If they decided to report it, what would they say? Jimmy laughed out loud as he visualized Missy trying to convince the police that her little pet was capable of curing devastating diseases. The cops would humor her, have a good laugh afterwards about Missy's wild imagination and move on to investigating more important crimes.

There were dolls all over the bed, perhaps because Missy had emptied her doll trunk to accommodate her precious Symby. Jimmy spied a large trunk at the foot of the bed. Jody and Missy had mentioned that Symby was small and furry, but they hadn't mentioned whether he could bite. Intensely curious but wary, Jimmy opened the trunk carefully. He smiled when he viewed its contents. A blanket had been folded and placed at the bottom of the trunk. There were only two other things in the trunk; a small bowl of something that smelled like cat food and a mouse-sized, furry, disc-shaped object.

Jimmy had been debating whether to smash the little creature when he found it or take it home. As he stared at the little creature for the first time, he made his decision.

"Hello, Symby," he said. "For somebody who can cure diseases, you sure don't look like much. I'll bet you've never ridden a bicycle before. Get ready for the ride of your life." The odds were that Jody and Missy were just making things up about Symby, but if they were right about the little, furry animal in front of him, then Symby might prove useful. Jimmy had some injuries of his own that could use healing.

As Jimmy put his hands into the trunk to grab Symby, the little creature arched and launched itself out of the trunk, fluttering away from Jimmy.

"You little shit!" exclaimed Jimmy, surprised that Symby could move at all. A mad chase ensued. Jimmy kept trying to grab Symby, but Symby was too quick for him. Jimmy was gasping for breath when an idea came to him. He pulled the blanket from the bottom of the trunk. The next time Symby tried to flutter away, Jimmy threw the blanket over him. Symby sank to the floor under the weight of the blanket. Jimmy quickly gathered the blanket's corners, cutting off any potential escape route for the little creature.

"Got you now, you little pain in the ass," cried Jimmy triumphantly. Carefully unfolding the blanket, Jimmy made sure that Symby had no avenue for escape, until finally he had a firm grip on the little creature. Symby seemed to have admitted defeat, curling himself into a ball in Jimmy's hand. Holding Symby tightly in his hand, Jimmy clambered back out the window and deposited his ball of fur into his bicycle basket.

As Jimmy pedaled furiously back home, he began thinking about Symby. Symby's body resembled a mouse's body, but the little creature had no eyes or ears. So how did Symby know that he was in danger? Symby's movements in the air reminded Jimmy of a butterfly, but Symby didn't seem to have the ability to control his flight. He just jumped around haphazardly, a very inefficient way to get around. When Jimmy thought about it, he had never seen an animal quite like Symby. Where had Symby come from?

Jimmy approached his house with a sense of dread. His father would not be pleased that Jimmy had ignored him on the way out. When his father was not pleased, things usually went badly for Jimmy. The best scenario for Jimmy would be that his father was now in one of his deep slumbers. When he woke up, he might not even remember that Jimmy had been in the house. Quietly opening the garage's side door, Jimmy pushed his bicycle into the garage. He didn't have to spend much time looking for a container for Symby. Garbage was strewn liberally throughout the garage. Jimmy found a large, empty coffee can, carefully opened his bicycle basket to ensure that Symby couldn't escape and placed Symby into the can. Holding the plastic cap down with his fingers as he walked towards the house, he peered into the living room window before entering. As he had hoped, his father had passed out on the living room couch. Jimmy steeled himself for a confrontation as he tiptoed into the house, breathing a sigh of relief as he passed his father. He made it to his room, trying to think of where he could hide Symby. His father wasn't about to allow him to keep a pet, that was certain.

Moving as quietly as he could, Jimmy opened his closet and pulled out his rubber sports crate. There wasn't much in it, as Jimmy didn't own much. He pulled out his baseball glove, a basketball, a pair of ancient ice skates and a deflated football and placed the can inside the crate. He placed the cover over the crate and pulled up the side nearest to him, creating an opening just big enough for his hand. He pulled the cap off the can and turned it upside down. Symby dropped out of the can and Jimmy quickly pulled the can out of the crate, allowing the crate's cover to drop. This was when his luck ran out. The can clipped the edge of the crate and clattered to the floor. Jimmy held his breath, praying that the noise hadn't been loud enough to wake his father. His prayers were rejected.

"Huuuh," his father groaned. "Who's there? Jimmy, is that you?"

Jimmy debated whether to answer. There was a chance that his father would pass out again, ending the crisis. On the other hand, if he ignored his father twice in the same day, there would be hell to pay. Jimmy opted to try to avoid hell.

"Yeah, it's me, Dad," he answered tentatively.

"What the hell are you doing home? Why the hell ain't you at school?"

"I just came back to get a book I need," answered Jimmy, praying once again that his father would not remember his first visit. Jimmy's prayers weren't often answered, and today was no exception.

"So you came back twice to get them?" his father bellowed. "Sounds to me like you're cutting school again or you're too stupid to remember which damned books you need! Get out here!"

Jimmy froze. "Get out here" was the phrase he feared most. Usually, it meant he wouldn't come back from wherever he went without suffering. He tried one last time to avoid the inevitable.

"Dad, I gotta get back to school quick. I've got a class." God rejected his pleas one final time.

"When I say get out here, boy, you get the hell out here! Now!"

Jimmy was out of options. He shuffled slowly out of his room to face his tormentor. His father was sitting up on the couch now, still groggy and probably drunk. Jimmy counted at least a half dozen empty beer cans on the coffee table. The half-empty bottle of cheap vodka probably did the most damage, though.

"I just had to live for an entire week with the likes of you when you got suspended. Now you're cutting school again. I told you then that if I had to look at your ugly mug during school time, you'd be sorry. But here you are again! What the hell is wrong with you boy?!"

"I'm sorry, Dad, I just forgot a couple of books. I'm not suspended."

"Suspended or not, what the hell good is sending the likes of you to school when you're so damned stupid you don't even know what books you need, let alone learnin' what's in 'em!" Jimmy's father was screaming now. Jimmy knew that he had gone past his tipping point. He braced himself for the nightmare to come. Sure enough, his father charged at him, raining blows from every direction. Turning his body sideways to minimize exposure, Jimmy absorbed the blows stoically. He was used to being struck. He knew the drill. His father was getting older and weaker, even as Jimmy grew bigger and stronger. There would come a day, not so far in the future any more, when Jimmy would make his father pay for his abuse. These were the thoughts that kept Jimmy going as his father quickly wore himself out pummeling his own son. As big as he was and as much as he knew his father hated it, Jimmy couldn't help but cry a little. The beating was over quickly. Jimmy's father gasped for breath and staggered back to the couch, resting his head on the back of the sofa. He had just enough energy for one more dig at Jimmy.