Sitting in the chair by Defenseur’s bed, Ryan kept thinking about Jannis’s micropower for a long time, or maybe just for ten seconds because he must have fallen asleep. He woke up because the door to Defense’s room opened a little, and Dr. Withunga leaned in and beckoned him.
Ryan got up. Defense was still asleep, so Ryan didn’t wake him up. He wanted to lift the hospital robe and look again at the dent in the bandages, but he didn’t. He just went out into the corridor and watched Dr. Withunga carefully close the door without making any noise that might wake Defense.
“You’re a good friend,” Dr. Withunga said.
“I try to be,” said Ryan.
“Saving his life and all,” added Jannis.
“Where did you guys go? How long was it, about half an hour?”
“Only nine minutes, actually,” said Jannis.
“We visited your other friend,” said Dr. Withunga. “Errol Dell. His room is also on this floor.”
“You really did a number on his throat,” said Jannis.
“I didn’t invite you to come along,” said Dr. Withunga, “because I didn’t think the guard at his door would let the kid who punched his throat come in with us.”
“He has a guard at his door?”
“The league champion kicker on the football team has a constant stream of visitors who have no regard for the official visiting hours,” said Dr. Withunga. “The hospital put a security guy at the door so people wouldn’t keep bothering the nurses, trying to wheedle their way in.”
“But you got in,” said Ryan.
“The hospital staff here,” said Jannis, “they kind of know me because I follow them around sometimes, trying to learn medicine and all.”
Somehow Ryan thought that was unlikely. Jannis didn’t seem to be the following-around kind.
“I think you like to stroke people’s injuries,” said Ryan.
Jannis looked away, and Dr. Withunga stared off into the distance. “If word gets out about what Jannis does,” said Dr. Withunga softly.
“I won’t tell,” said Ryan. “She would get no rest, I think.”
“I think some of the nurses in the trauma center have a pretty good idea,” said Dr. Withunga, “but they don’t know about micropowers, so whether they think it’s the power of prayer or some kind of weird hill-country magic, I can’t begin to guess.”
“I help put things in order,” said Jannis. “But nothing deep inside the body. I’m good with broken bones just under the skin, and I was able to do some work on the mess you made of Errol’s throat.”
“How effective are you?” asked Ryan.
“She’s effective,” said Dr. Withunga. “But not predictably so. If a wound is too deep, she can’t reach it. She can’t fix cancer or, really, anything except trauma. A concussion, many broken bones, sutures, you heal without a scar—that kind of thing.”
“So Defense’s ribs?” asked Ryan.
Jannis shrugged. “They were such a mess. I think I did some good. I corralled all the chips of bone, got them back in place. I think he’ll heal up fine.”
“Without a dent?” Ryan asked.
“We’ll see,” said Jannis. “I help with superficial injuries, which, thank God, all of Defense’s and Errol’s were. Just under the skin. So things look pretty bright for both of them.”
“You undid the damage,” said Ryan.
“Tried to,” said Jannis. “Did my best.”
“Do you let people hug you?” asked Ryan.
“As rarely as possible,” said Jannis.
“Is this one of the times?” asked Ryan.
“If you can do it without copping a feel,” said Jannis.
What a jerk, thought Ryan. And then he thought of her stroking Defense’s wound and he reached out and hugged her. Not really tightly or really closely, but he held her like that for kind of a long time.
“If you’re trying to turn me on, it’s not working,” said Jannis.
Ryan pulled away. “I’m really grateful,” said Ryan. “You weren’t just healing them.”
“I don’t know if I actually healed anybody. I think I just help speed up the body’s natural process.”
“And putting bone fragments where they belong,” said Ryan.
“If they stay where I put them,” said Jannis.
“I get it,” said Ryan. “No promises. But I’m grateful. And in my family, strong feelings get hugged on. I wasn’t trying to do anything . . .” He was about to say “sexual,” but that just felt ugly.
“She knows that,” said Dr. Withunga. “But she tries to turn away gratitude because it embarrasses her and she doesn’t know how to respond to it.”
“Thanks for the translation,” said Jannis.
“I needed it,” said Ryan. “You kind of give off mixed signals.”
“I’m pretty sure I conveyed a general hostility toward you,” said Jannis.
“Yes, you’re good at that, message received.”
“So . . . no translation needed, right?”
Dr. Withunga laughed. “Ryan, not a word to anyone, not even a hint that you know her micropower.”
“I already promised, and I promise again,” said Ryan.
“She and I work together on strengthening her micropower. And having you here along with me—that helped intensify the power. Another micropot—that really makes a difference to her.”
“But you didn’t want Bizzy?” asked Ryan.
“She still doesn’t trust us,” said Dr. Withunga.
“This today might have helped with that,” said Ryan.
“And we don’t know how much to trust her,” said Jannis.
Instead of leaping to Bizzy’s defense, Ryan realized that they probably didn’t fully trust him, either, but they came here partly to help him, and he needed to be along. If Ryan’s friend and Ryan’s victim were both helped to heal faster and more completely, then Ryan didn’t have to feel so bad about the things he had and hadn’t done at school.
“Thank you,” said Ryan.
“See how much better than a hug it is when you use your words?” said Jannis.
Ryan didn’t bother to answer or argue. If Jannis wanted to keep him at arm’s length, he didn’t mind at all.
I’d rather have her micropower than mine, thought Ryan. Healing instead of hurting. Even if I only hurt bees, I still don’t like it. And I messed Errol up even though this was a fight someone else picked. I punished him for losing his temper, when he would have to have been a saint not to. But now he’s not going to suffer for years or forever because I took a poke at his throat. Thanks, Jannis, even if you’re kind of a jerk about it with me. You were kind to Defense and I bet you were kind with Errol.
“Errol wasn’t actually awake,” said Dr. Withunga, as if she felt a need to explain. “He won’t remember that we visited. Nor will anybody else. So perhaps if you don’t ever refer to our visit today?”
“Errol and I never, never, never talk,” said Ryan.
“I think that might be a healthy trend in your relationship,” said Dr. Withunga.
“I’ve got nothing to say to him,” said Ryan. “Because I’m not sorry I punched his neck. If he really meant to deliver that kick—and I still believe that he did—then I saved him from murder.”
“Micropowers have their uses,” said Dr. Withunga.
“I’d rather have the power to heal.”
Jannis gave a low chuckle. “You have no idea yet what your power really is or what it can do.”
“Why, do you have an idea?” demanded Ryan.
“Nobody has an idea, until they work on it and study it for a pretty long time,” said Jannis.
“Then teach me,” said Ryan.
“That’s the second thing people ask me, when they suspect what I can do,” said Jannis. “But it can’t be taught, u
nless I actually understand what I’m doing, and I don’t, so I can’t.”
“Got it,” said Ryan.
It was dark when they dropped him off at the duplex. He went inside, checked the garbage situation, changed the bag in the kitchen, and in general did his chores. His mother came into the kitchen when he came back inside the house. Without saying anything, she heated up some of the lasagna she had made for dinner. Ryan thanked her.
“You were with Next-Door Girl?” asked Mom.
“You mean Bizzy?” asked Ryan.
“That’s not a name,” said Mom. “It’s hard for me to remember.”
Ryan didn’t argue with her. Fine with him if she wanted to pretend not to remember Bizzy’s name.
“We dropped her off a couple of hours ago,” said Ryan. “I visited Defense in the hospital.”
“You’re a good friend,” said Mother.
“I try,” said Ryan.
“Try not to kill anybody,” said Mother.
“I took some pains not to kill anyone,” said Ryan. “I intend to keep making such efforts.”
“I know,” said Mom. “Just . . . succeed at not killing.”
“You got it, Mom,” he said. “Not much homework tonight, but I’ve got to get it done.”
“Eat the lasagna first,” she said.
“You didn’t have to heat it for me, you know. Your lasagna is also really good cold.”
“That’s more than a little disgusting,” Mom said. “Even if you don’t mind.”
“Yeah, it is,” Ryan said. “But I don’t mind.”
“My son who I’m so proud of doesn’t have to eat lasagna straight from the fridge tonight.”
Ryan didn’t say anything, but her words gave him an inward glow that momentarily blinded him.
Her words also gave him a stab of pain. Because Father wasn’t there to hear what she said. And, perhaps, to agree with her.
Despite such contradictory feelings, the hot lasagna tasted great.
12
Defense was in school the next day. “What are you doing here?” asked Ryan.
“Passing my classes, if I can,” said Defense.
“Why did they let you out of the hospital? I thought they were watching to see what happened with your—”
“They already saw what happened,” said Defense. Ryan waited for the explanation.
“Your friend with the stroky-stroky fingers,” said Defense.
“Not my friend,” said Ryan.
“You brought her,” said Defense.
“Dr. Withunga brought her. And me.”
“I didn’t tell the hospital people anything about her, all right?” said Defense. “You can relax.”
And Ryan realized that he had been tense, and that knowing that Defense had not blown Jannis’s secret did indeed allow him to relax.
“So?” asked Ryan. “What did they think happened? Did anything happen?”
“They had serious doubts about the accuracy of the original X-rays,” said Defense. “And if they had thought it was safe to expose me to radiation again, they would have retaken the new ones. They wanted to do an MRI, but my parents weren’t interested in testing their insurance coverage with unnecessary procedures.”
“Unnecessary,” said Ryan.
“Because I don’t have a dent anymore. And they don’t think I have any bone chips floating around in my chest. The diagnosis was ‘complete recovery.’”
Ryan said nothing. He was really impressed with Jannis now. If you can heal people like that, nobody gives a rat’s petoot whether you’re a jerk.
“Your micropower is pretty damn fine,” said Defense. “But hers? Miracle Max from Princess Bride.”
“Not a miracle,” said Ryan. “And not to be discussed here in a crowded corridor.”
“Nobody listens to us,” said Defense.
“Used to be true, but a lot of people saw videos of your ribs caving in, and here you are at school.”
Defense glanced around, saw how many people were openly or covertly watching them. “Well, whaddya know,” he said.
“Let’s not do anything to feed your fame,” said Ryan.
“Your fame,” said Defense. “I didn’t fly over and jab Athlete’s Foot in the neck.”
“No more nicknames,” said Ryan. “Period. Ever.”
“Errol Dell,” said Defense.
“No nicknames for anybody. That phase of your life is over.”
“Says who and what army?” said Defense.
“Says me,” said Ryan. “Your days of tormenting people with cruel nicknames are over.”
“Cruel accurate nicknames,” Defense corrected him.
“Time for you to stop leaving a swath of pain and humiliation wherever you go,” said Ryan.
“Not your decision.”
“No,” said Ryan. “My decision is whether we remain friends.”
Defense looked at him soberly, then took him by the elbow and drew him into an alcove near the entrance, where nobody else was lurking long enough to overhear them. “Are you giving me an ultimatum?” he asked.
Ryan nodded. “Yes, I am. And in case you think I’m being arbitrary here, let me remind you: I almost killed a guy two days ago. A guy that you goaded mercilessly into attacking you, in order to force me, because I was your friend, to jab him in the throat. Is that a fair description of what happened? Am I misrepresenting your motives?”
“You’re so impressive when you talk like the Declaration of Independence,” said Defense.
“When you use my love for you—shut up and listen—when you use my love for you to maneuver me into doing something unconscionable (my conscience, not yours), then I will remove that power from you by ceasing to love you. Get it? I will never again rescue you from a danger you deliberately brought on yourself to control me.”
“I get it, man. I would never do that.”
“You did it two days ago. So if you continue to be the same rectal constriction with your name-calling, you’ll be doing it as not-my-friend. My ex-friend.”
“Your enemy?” asked Defense.
“The enemy of all civilized people. You’re not a child anymore. You’re a full-sized person—”
“Mon dieu, I hope not,” said Defense. “I’m still hoping for six inches more. In height.”
“And the trouble you get yourself and others into can have permanent, real-world consequences. The fact that Jannis was able to use her . . . attention to speed up your healing should not lead you to think you can play these games with impunity. The next time someone is kicking you to death because you taunted them into it, I will not step in to help you. Clear?”
“What if I didn’t provoke them?”
“You provoke everybody,” said Ryan. “So let’s see a fundamental change in your relationship with, let’s say, the entire human race, or there won’t be enough friendship between us for me to care whether you provoked this particular attacker this particular time.”
“Wow,” said Defense. “I really pissed you off.”
“It took you this long to reach that conclusion?”
“So the only person you’ll be protecting from now on is, like, Bizzy?”
“If I’m not protecting you, Defense, it’ll be none of your business who I might be protecting.”
“Ryan,” said Defense. “I’m really sorry. I really am.”
“Sorry enough to change?” asked Ryan.
“It would really help me if a lot of other people stopped being pompous asses, bullies, and fools.”
“You can’t control them. But has your ridicule ever caused any of them to be less pompous, less bullying, less foolish?”
Defense grinned foolishly. “Usually makes them worse.”
“Start trying to heal the world around you instead of sticking your fingers into
the open sores,” said Ryan.
“You’re so poetic,” said Defense. “I’d have a new nickname for you right now, except that I suspect your new rule about how I can’t ridicule people probably includes ridiculing you.”
“Yes,” said Ryan.
“So if even you are out of reach of my unspeakable—no, my speakable—wit, can you explain what I will gain from continuing to be your friend?”
Ryan gazed at Defense and finally said, “Have I done something to damage our friendship, Defense?”
“You mean besides giving me an ultimatum and requiring me to completely change my character and all my habits? No, not really.”
“Haven’t you had proof enough of my love and friendship in the past forty-eight hours?” asked Ryan.
“I think so, yes,” said Defense.
“So are you still my friend?” asked Ryan.
“If I can be,” said Defense. “If I can measure up.”
“You can,” said Ryan. “All you have to do is start regarding the people around you as humans who deserve compassion.”
“I wasn’t doing all my taunting of other people alone, you know.”
“I know,” said Ryan. “I was right there with you. I am also trying to change.”
“Because you found real beauty in the world,” said Defense.
“Maybe,” said Ryan. “But it isn’t in the way she looks.”
Defense grinned. “I know. It’s in the way other people look at her.”
“It’s in her soul. It’s in her kindness. She sees everything you and I have always seen, but she forgives people for it.”
“Does she really?” asked Defense. “Or does she just try not to be mean?”
“Trying not to be mean is good enough for me. Good enough for now. Let’s do that, too.”
“We’re going to be late to class,” said Defense.
“You’re the one who called this meeting,” said Ryan.
“Adjourned,” said Defense.
“Let’s go learn some more truth and beauty.”
“It’s still high school, bonehead,” said Defense. “And ‘bonehead’ wasn’t a nickname. It was just an accurate description.”
“I know,” said Ryan. “I bet you’ll beat me there.”
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