Alice to the Rescue

by Judi Curtin

  In the end my legs were tired and my throat was sore from calling Domino’s name. We went back towards home and we met Grace and Louise outside Alice’s house. Grace shook her head when she saw us.

  ‘Sorry, Megan,’ she said. ‘We’ve had no luck. But we’ve put up heaps of posters.’

  ‘Maybe someone is minding Domino,’ said Louise. ‘And they’ll bring her back to you once they find out where she lives.’

  I knew Louise was trying to be nice, but I couldn’t believe what she said. Domino loves me, and I knew that if she could, she’d come right back home to me – home to where she belongs.

  It was going to be dark soon, and it was time for everyone to go home. We all hugged, and I went back inside.

  Mum was extra nice, and after dinner she even let me watch TV for half an hour, but it didn’t help.

  * * *

  That night and the next day passed in kind of a blur. News travelled quickly, and everyone seemed to know about Domino. Wherever I went, everyone was really nice to me. I was grateful, but it didn’t make me feel any better.

  Then it was Thursday, and the third night that Domino had been missing. At nine o’clock, I checked the garden one more time, and then I went to my bedroom. It was early, but I needed to be on my own for a while.

  All I could think about was Domino.

  My poor little kitten.

  She was so small, and so defenceless.

  How could she survive for so long without me to feed and mind her?

  Would I ever again see her cute green eyes?

  Would I ever again stroke her soft black fur?

  And, as if losing Domino wasn’t bad enough, in two more days, Alice would be leaving for France.

  I’d have to be brave. I’d have to pretend to be happy for her. I’d have to act like everything would be just fine without her.

  And how was I going to manage that?

  Maybe Alice would change her mind.

  Maybe she’d decide she wasn’t brave enough to go to France all on her own.

  Maybe something would happen so that she couldn’t go.

  Maybe I’d get up in the morning to find that this was all a bad dream.

  I put out the light and lay down. Then I closed my eyes and waited for sleep to rescue me.

  * * *

  I woke up while it was still dark.

  I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes.

  Had I heard something, or was it the remnant of a dream?

  And then I heard it again.

  It definitely wasn’t a dream.

  I knew that sound.

  It was a miaow.

  It was a kitten.

  And I knew for sure it was my kitten!

  I jumped out of bed, raced over to the window and opened it.

  And there on the windowsill was my … filthy … dirty … battered and tattered … exhausted-looking Domino.

  She gave a small, weak miaow, and then sort of collapsed into my arms.

  I brought her inside, closed the window and switched on the light.

  The poor kitty looked like she’d had a terrible time. She felt so light and thin in my arms that she was like a cat from a dream. But she was real, and she was alive, and she was licking my hand with her rough sandpapery tongue. Her fur wasn’t soft and smooth like it was supposed to be, but I didn’t care. I held her up to my face, and wet her dirty fur with my happy, happy tears.

  Still holding Domino, I tip-toed into the kitchen, and poured some milk into a saucer.

  Domino lapped it and then kept lapping, almost like she wanted to lick the painted flowers right off the saucer.

  I quickly got her some of her food, which she gobbled up in seconds.

  I found an old cloth under the kitchen sink, and used it to wipe of the worst of the dirt from her fur. She had a small cut on one of her paws, but it didn’t look too serious, and Domino didn’t mind me wiping it clean.

  Then we went back into my room, and I climbed into bed, with Domino cuddled up next to me.

  ‘Where were you?’ I asked. ‘What happened to you? Why didn’t you come back sooner?’

  Of course she didn’t answer, and soon I was too tired to ask any more.

  I closed my eyes and slept soundly.

  Chapter seventeen

  I woke up to find Mum shaking me.

  ‘I see your baby’s back,’ she said.

  I knew she was glad, because there was a big mucky stain on my bed where Domino was lying, and Mum wasn’t even cross.

  I sat up, and cuddled Domino, happier than ever to see her.

  Mum laughed.

  ‘I’m very pleased for you, Megan,’ she said. ‘I’m glad that Domino’s back, and not looking in too bad shape. Now get up or you’ll be late for school, and you don’t want that. It’s Alice’s last day, remember?’

  Suddenly I remembered all too well. Domino might be back, but still everything wasn’t perfect.

  After breakfast Domino was back on her usual place on the plant pot outside the front door. It was almost like she’d never been away.

  I stroked her even more than usual while I waited for Alice to arrive.

  ‘No more mad adventures,’ I said. ‘I don’t know where you’ve been, but I don’t want you going there again. You stay right here, and I’ll be back at half-past three.’

  Domino just stretched and yawned, and made herself more comfortable in the sunshine.

  Ten minutes later, there was no sign of Alice.

  I went next door to call for her, wondering how she could possibly have overslept on her last day.

  I rang the bell, but there was no answer. I rang again, but still no one appeared.

  I stood on Alice’s front doorstep wondering what could be going on. Every morning she calls for me, and she’s never late.

  I tried ringing her mobile, but as usual, it was switched off.

  Mum appeared at our front door.

  ‘Why aren’t you on your way to school?’ she asked.

  I explained.

  ‘Could Alice have stayed at her mum’s place last night? She might have changed her plans because of it being her last day,’ suggested Mum.

  I grinned. That had to be it.

  ‘Thanks, Mum,’ I said, as I headed off for Alice’s mum’s apartment.

  When I got there, I rang the buzzer, but once again there was no answer.

  I rang again.

  Still no answer.

  I began to feel a bit cross.

  Why would Alice go to school without me?

  She never goes to school without me.

  We’re supposed to go to school together.

  It’s what we do.

  I walked towards school, meeting Grace and Louise on the way.

  ‘Where’s Alice?’ asked Grace.

  I shrugged, and tried not to sound hurt.

  ‘I’d love to know. She must have gone to school early or something.’

  We walked the rest of the way to school, and when we got there I immediately began to look for Alice. I checked the cloakroom, the toilets, her classroom, and the corridor where her locker is. There was no sign of her, and no one had seen her.

  I met Kellie, and told her the story.

  ‘Maybe she had to go to France early,’ she suggested.

  ‘She wouldn’t,’ I said. ‘I know she wouldn’t go without saying good-bye to me.’

  Suddenly I realised that maybe she would.

  Maybe she was afraid to say good-bye to me.

  Maybe she was afraid that I’d make a big scene and embarrass her.

  After all, I’d made a huge fuss about the trip to France before Alice had won the competition, before she’d even finished writing her essay.

  Maybe she was already half-way to France.

  And how could I blame her for not trusting me to be mature about it all?

  * * *

  Alice didn’t show up at school at all, and the day dragged on and on. Every class seemed to last for hours.

  Last cl
ass was Home Ec. After the fire-alarm drama the week before, Miss Leonard wasn’t taking any chances, and she had decided that we were all making salad. Alice was supposed to be bringing in the ingredients for our group, but of course she wasn’t there. Grace and I had to join other groups, and it was totally boring.

  Still, I figured I might as well get used to it.

  Nothing was fun without Alice.

  * * *

  When I got home, I was happy to see that Domino was exactly where I had left her on the flower-pot on the front doorstep.

  I wasn’t happy to see Mum standing at the front door, waiting for me.

  She was pale, and her hair was even messier than usual.

  ‘Megan,’ she said. ‘Something terrible has happened.

  Chapter eighteen

  Mum brought me inside and sat me down at the kitchen table. She put a glass of milk in front of me, but I couldn’t bring myself to even pick it up. There was no way I was going to drink it.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ I asked. I knew something scary was going on.

  ‘It’s Alice,’ said Mum, and then she stopped talking and put her hands over her face.

  Suddenly I felt very afraid.

  ‘What is it?’ I asked. ‘Just get on with it and tell me.’

  When Mum spoke, her voice was weak and shaky.

  ‘Last night, just before bed-time, Alice suddenly told Peter that she wanted to go out. She said she’d only be gone for a few minutes. Peter wasn’t worried. He thought maybe she was going to come here or go to her mum’s place. But half an hour later she still wasn’t back. Then Peter got worried. He was just on his way to see if she was here when he heard the sound of an ambulance, far away, right at the end of Shelbourne Road. And that gave him a very bad feeling, so he ran down there, and …’

  Mum stopped talking again.

  I wanted to shake her, to make her tell the story quicker, and yet I didn’t want her to get to the end.

  I was afraid of the end of the story.

  Mum looked up and started to speak again.

  ‘When Peter got there, they were just putting Alice into the ambulance.’

  ‘And is she …?’

  ‘She’s alive. She’s in hospital,’ said Mum. ‘She’s unconscious, and she’s got a badly injured leg, but she’s alive.’

  I hardly dared to ask the next words.

  ‘And is she going to be OK?’

  Mum tried to smile, but didn’t do a great job.

  ‘They hope so.’

  ‘What happened to her?’ I asked. ‘Was she hit by a car?’

  Mum shook her head.

  ‘That’s the strangest thing. No one can figure out what happened. They don’t know what Alice was doing, or why she was there. She was on the footpath outside the old empty house at the end of Shelbourne Road. A man living nearby heard a scream, and he went out and found her lying on the ground. She was unconscious, so he called an ambulance, and ……… well that’s it.’

  ‘Can I go and see her.’

  Mum shook her head again.

  ‘I’m sorry, Megan. Peter was here a while ago. He had to come home from the hospital to pick up a few things, so he came in to let us know what had happened. He said she’s too sick for visitors. Only her family is allowed near her. In case … well in case she wakes up.’

  Suddenly I thought of something else. ‘What about France? Will she be able to go to France?’

  Mum shook her head.

  ‘I’m afraid France is out of the question now.’

  I put my head down.

  It was all my fault.

  I’d been wishing and hoping that something would happen so that Alice couldn’t go to France, and now my wish had come true.

  And my best friend was unconscious in hospital.

  I wondered if I could unwish my wish.

  Or could I get Linda’s ring and make a new wish?

  Could I wish that Alice was right next to me, laughing her loud laugh, and making me feel happy just by being there?

  Suddenly mum was hugging me.

  She was crying, but I managed to hold back my tears. Tears mean that things are really bad.

  I pulled away from Mum and stood up.

  ‘I’m going to my room,’ I said. ‘I’m going to make Alice the very best “Get Well” card ever. Because she’s going to get well. She has to.’

  * * *

  A while later the telephone rang.

  I ran to the hall, but Mum got there before me, so I got to listen to one half of a conversation.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Goodbye, and remember we’re thinking of you all.’

  Mum hung up and turned to me.

  ‘Alice is stable,’ she said.

  ‘Stable’ – I was sure I’d heard that word on hospital dramas, and I was pretty sure it was something good…

  ‘What does stable mean?’ I asked.

  ‘It means Alice isn’t getting any worse.’

  ‘Does it mean she’s getting better?’

  Mum sighed. ‘Well, not really. But it’s early days yet. Try not to worry.’

  That was like telling a river to try not to flow downhill, but I knew Mum was being kind, so I just did my best to smile.

  ‘Peter will ring again in the morning,’ said Mum.

  Then she gave me a hug and went back into the kitchen, and I went back to my room to finish Alice’s ‘Get Well’ card.

  Chapter nineteen

  When I woke in the morning, I stayed in bed, waiting for the phone to ring.

  Then the door-bell rang instead.

  I heard Mum answering it, and then I could hear Peter’s voice in the hall.

  Before I could do anything, Mum was at my bedroom door.

  ‘Hurry up,’ she said. ‘Peter wants you to go and see Alice. The doctors think it might be good for her to hear your voice.’

  I jumped out of bed, and threw on the tracksuit that had been on the floor of my bedroom. Then I pulled on my runners without even tying the laces, and I raced out to the hall.

  ‘Ready?’ asked Peter. He looked tired.

  I nodded.

  I followed Peter out to the car, and climbed in beside him.

  ‘Is she awake yet?’ I asked Peter as we drove off.

  He shook his head.

  ‘No. She’s still … unconscious.’

  He said the word slowly, almost like he couldn’t bear the sound of it.

  ‘Isn’t that just like being asleep?’ I asked.

  ‘Well … sort of. It’s like a very, very deep sleep. Alice hit her head somehow in the accident, and now the doctors say that her brain is just having a little rest. They think she might be able to hear us, though. And that’s why we want you to talk to her. We know… well we know how much you two mean to each other, so the sound of your voice might make her want to wake up.’

  I nodded, and then thought of something else.

  ‘Do you know what happened to her? Do you know how she got hurt?’

  He shook his head.

  ‘No. It’s still a complete mystery.’

  I tried to smile.

  ‘Alice likes mysteries,’ I said, but then I was sorry, because I saw a small tear trickle down Peter’s face. So I didn’t say anything else until we got to the hospital.

  * * *

  Peter led the way to Alice’s room.

  ‘Try not to be afraid,’ he said. ‘There are lots of machines, and they’re a bit scary at first, but you’ll get used to them.’

  I didn’t answer. I hoped I wouldn’t have to get used to them. I hoped Alice would be better soon and wouldn’t need them. The machines could go to someone who was really sick.

  Still, even after Peter’s warning, I got a fright when I stepped in to the room. Alice was ly
ing on a huge bed by the window. Her eyes were closed and her face was almost as white as the sheet she was lying on. There was a large purple bruise on her forehead. There were tubes coming out of both arms, and next to her there was a big machine that beeped loudly every few seconds.

  She looked like she was dressed up as a ghost, for Halloween.

  I wished she was just dressed up.

  I wished she’d jump up and say ‘boo’ and we could have a laugh.

  Slowly I looked around the room. I gasped when I saw Alice’s mum, Veronica, who was sitting beside the bed. Veronica usually looks like a model with perfect hair and make-up and clothes that look like they’d been bought in a really expensive shop just minutes earlier. Even when Veronica is putting the bins out, she looks like she’s dressed for a party.

  Now Veronica looked like a wreck. She wasn’t wearing any make-up. Her usually perfect nails were all broken and torn. Her hair was messier than my mum’s on a bad day, and she was wearing clothes so untidy and mismatched that they made my dirty track-suit look like a princess’s costume.

  Alice’s little brother Jamie was sitting on the floor, playing with some small toy cars.

  I looked at Alice again, but nothing had changed.

  I wished I could just walk away, and not be part of this horrible scene.

  But I was part of it.

  And I couldn’t walk away.

  Peter was smiling at me.

  ‘Go and sit beside her,’ he said. ‘Talk to her.’

  Veronica got up from her seat. She touched my shoulder.

  ‘Sit there,’ she said. ‘And Megan … thanks for coming.’

  I sat down.

  I reached out and touched Alice’s hand. It was warm and dry. Her nails still had the pink nail varnish I’d painted on a few days earlier.

  ‘Hi, Alice,’ I said. My throat was dry, and my voice sounded too loud. It seemed to echo around the room.

  Peter and Veronica smiled at me encouragingly.

  ‘I’m sorry you’re hurt, Alice,’ I said. ‘I know I didn’t want you to go to France, but I wish you were there now. I wish you weren’t here.’

  Alice didn’t respond. Her chest went up and down, but otherwise she didn’t move. I had often seen her asleep, but I had never seen her so still.