The Carolyn Chronicles, Volume 1

by Derek Ciccone

  The Carolyn Chronicles, Volume 1

  Derek Ciccone

  Copyright© 2016 Derek Ciccone

  Published by Derek Ciccone at Derek Ciccone Books

  To join (e)mailing list click here

  Feedback and support appreciated at:

  Derek Ciccone Book Club on Facebook

  Follow on Twitter: @DCicconeBooks

  email: derekbkclb@yahoo.com

  Books by Derek Ciccone

  Featuring JP Warner (in order)

  Officer Jones

  Huddled Masses

  Psycho Hill

  Confederate Gold

  Painless Series

  Painless

  The Carolyn Chronicles, Volume 1

  Stand Alone

  Conjoined

  The Trials of Max Q

  The Truant Officer

  The Heritage Paper

  The Jack Hammer

  Kristmas Collins

  This book is a work of fiction. Places, events, and situations in this book are purely fictional and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental

  I chronicled Carolyn Whitcomb and her family from the time I moved into the cottage on their property, through Carolyn’s stunning diagnosis that she had a rare genetic disorder in which she couldn’t feel pain, and then their fight for survival against Operation Anesthesia. I continued telling the story up until Carolyn’s fifth birthday last September. The journey was called Painless, but in truth, it was anything but.

  At that point, with the Operation Anesthesia dragon slayed I expected to move on to write about new subjects, while the Whitcombs could happily move on to the typical mundane life of a suburban family ... albeit, a family missing it’s leader in Carolyn’s mother, Beth.

  But I once again underestimated how her unique condition, fearless curiosity and knack for finding trouble, could turn normal into adventure with a blink of the eye. The typical day often became a wild ride, and those days gathered together to become an eventful year—further complicated by Carolyn dealing with the loss of her mother and the many changes in her life. So I realized that I wasn’t done chronicling the story of the young girl who couldn’t feel pain, yet taught me how to feel again, and to risk the potential pain in opening up my heart to love. So it’s symbolic to me that the story resumes on Valentine’s Day, five months after her fifth birthday, and sixteen months after the death of her mother. I’ve heard it said that ‘usual is the enemy of adventure,’ but I’m not sure those people have ever met Carolyn Whitcomb.

  —Billy Harper

  Valentine’s Day

  Chapter One

  The honored guests arrived … almost an hour late.

  As they stepped into the auditorium at Daniel’s House, they were met by a young woman offering to take their coats. Carolyn couldn’t get hers off fast enough, acting as if it was a restrictive straitjacket. She then removed her winter hat, and her brown hair fell to her shoulders.

  Chuck Whitcomb looked to his five-year-old daughter with confusion. “What happened to that …?”

  As he searched for the word, Lindsey Stevens filled in, “French braid.”

  Carolyn shrugged. “I decided that it would be better straight down.”

  Chuck grew annoyed. “Then why did you have Lindsey do all that work? It took like an hour.”

  And was the reason they missed their train, leading to their tardiness.

  Another shrug. “Can’t a girl change her mind?”

  “She can, and she can also apologize to Lindsey for wasting her time.”

  Lindsey downplayed it, “It’s fine—it’s her day, so however she feels most comfortable is good with me.”

  She then reached into her purse and pulled out a brush. But when she tried to hand it to Carolyn, she pushed it away, and expertly applied barrettes to her hair. Her growing, and sometimes problematic independent streak was on full display.

  The mini-spat was interrupted by the presence of a tall man in a dark suit, who was moving toward them with great enthusiasm.

  “He’s shiny,” Carolyn commented.

  “That’s one good looking man,” Lindsey added.

  Chuck couldn’t disagree—the man looked like a movie star. He expected a handshake, but instead, was met by a surprising hug. And then one for Lindsey.

  “You must be Chuck and Lindsey,” he said with a sparkling smile.

  Chuck nodded that they were, still in a state of surprise by the overwhelming greeting.

  “That’s a relief,” he said with a laugh. “I got halfway here, and I was already committed to the hug … it would’ve been slightly awkward if you weren’t. I’m Dr. Donovan Soos, by the way.”

  Chuck found his bearings, and was about to introduce his daughter, but there was no need. Carolyn was staring at the doctor, wide-eyed—her eyes were two big saucers of hazel. “You’re a doctor and a children’s author? You must be really smart!”

  Dr. Soos smiled at her—you could tell it wasn’t the first time he’d heard that one. “Between you and me, I really don’t care for green eggs and ham. I’m more of a waffles guy.”

  Carolyn remained excited. “Me too. With lots of syrup filling up all the squares!”

  “It’s the only way to eat them,” he said, holding his smile on her. “It’s wonderful to finally meet the famed Princess Carolyn—I’ve heard so much about you that I feel like I already know you.”

  “I used to be a princess, but now I’m Supergirl. Being a princess is kinda boring. Supergirl gets to fly and save people.”

  “With what you’ve done for us, a lot of children are going to be saved. You’re our hero … and we sure think you’re super.”

  She laughed. “You must think I’m toast—because you’re really buttering me up.”

  Chuck couldn’t help but to smile, knowing that she’d picked that saying up from Beth. And all things Carolyn was able to take from her mother in their short time together he considered gifts.

  Dr. Soos led them toward their seats. “I’m sorry we’re late,” Chuck apologized.

  He waved him off. “Not a problem … without you and Dana, there would be no ceremony to be late for. And speaking of Dana, I don’t think I saw her come in.”

  “She called to say that she and Billy are caught in traffic—they had a book-signing in Providence this morning—and that we should start without them.”

  “Aunt Dana would be late for her own funeral,” Carolyn added. Another Beth-ism, but this time Chuck felt a sad irony.

  The doctor flashed a reminiscing smile. “Ever since we were kids, Dana has turned being fashionably late into an art form. And I’ve done the Providence to Boston trip more times than I can count—the traffic can be stifling. So it’s completely understandable.”

  “We took the train—no traffic on the train tracks,” Carolyn said.

  “That was smart thinking—how was your trip in?”

  “A little bumpy, but it was still better than the time I took the train to Montreal with Billy. We smelled like smoke the whole time because Calvin burned himself at the cabin. And then we found André, but he died because of drugs. Drugs are bad.”

  “She’s got a good imagination,” Chuck interrupted with a nervous grin.”

  “I was Carolyn’s teacher for two years, so I can vouch for that,” Lindsey backed him up.

  “And she won’t apologize for it,” Chuck added.

  “Nor should she. All great things in this world start with imagination. That’s quite a gift you have, Carolyn. Thank you for sharing it with us.”

  “You’re very welcome,” Carolyn told the doctor, before stopping suddenly on the way to their seats, an inquisitive look on her face “W
hat’s wrong?” Chuck asked her.

  “It’s just that this place doesn’t look like a house, so I really don’t know why they call it Daniel’s House.”

  “Let me show you,” Dr. Soos said. He took her small hand and led her to a nearby wall, which featured a painting of a floppy-haired young boy with rosy cheeks, who appeared to be around Carolyn’s age.

  “This is Daniel. He was sick, and had to spend much of his life in hospitals. His parents decided to create a place where sick children could go to get the best care, yet feel like they’re home. So they built Daniel’s House.”

  “I don’t blame him—I don’t like hospitals either.”

  “And now thanks to you, and your family’s generosity, we will be building an addition onto the home.”

  Carolyn continued peering at the boy in the portrait. “He looks nice. Can I meet him?”

  For the first time, the energy seemed to drain from Dr. Soos. “I’m sorry, Carolyn, but Daniel is deceased.”

  “You mean like dead?”

  He nodded somberly. “I’m afraid so.”

  She sighed. “My mom died—I know all about it. It’s no fun at all.”

  It had been sixteen months since Beth’s death, but her mere mention could instantly send Chuck from smooth skies into rough turbulence. He usually liked the fact that Carolyn had no filter, and whatever entered her mind soon followed out of her mouth—there was never a guessing-game as to how she felt—but in cases like this, he sure wished she’d offer a little warning.

  Lindsey placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, which sent calm through his body. He hated to think how he would have gotten through this last year without her presence in his life. The simple answer was; he probably wouldn’t have.

  They arrived at their seats, front row, facing the stage. They forced smiles in the direction of Dana’s brothers, Ross and Aldrich Boulanger, who sat across the aisle. Dr. Soos gave Chuck a knowing nod, as if to say he understood the dynamics of the Boulanger family, having grown up as their neighbor in Greenwich, Connecticut. It wasn’t a coincidence the two sides had been seated apart.

  Once they took their seats, Dr. Soos looked to Carolyn. “What do you say we get this show on the road?”

  Carolyn blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m kind of tired of going places, I was hoping we could stay here for a while.”

  He smiled at her. “Dana was right—you are a very unique little girl.”

  “They say I’m a one in a two-hundred-million chance.”

  “Just keep being you, Carolyn,” he said, and then quoted the other Dr. Seuss, “Because there is no one alive who is You-er than You.”

  Chapter 2

  Dr. Soos practically leaped onto the small stage and took his place behind the podium.

  He was a youthful looking thirty-seven, and appeared too young to be one of the country’s top pediatric surgeons, much less heading up an innovative children’s hospital like Daniel’s House … even if nobody around here was calling it a hospital. But when he spoke, his presence was commanding and his charisma infectious.

  “This is a monumental day for us at Daniel’s House. Thanks to a generous gift from the Boulanger Estate, we are here to dedicate our new wing, which will be named in the honor of Tom Boulanger, and his late wife Eloise, who was known affectionately as Mrs. B.”

  He took a moment to point out the family, and they received generous applause.

  Chuck gritted his teeth—the Boulangers were the people who systematically cut Beth out of their lives, to protect a fortune she never cared about. They abandoned the girl with abandonment issues when she needed them most. He had no interest to be involved with them under any circumstance, but this hospital wing outweighed his grievances, and it required Boulanger money. That, and the tag-team combination of Dana and Carolyn was impossible to say no to.

  The doctor continued, “I would never be so insensitive and callous to say that someone inflicted with cancer or diabetes was lucky … especially in the case of a child. I have spent enough time in our oncology wing to know the devastation that insidious disease causes.

  “But you are luckier than if you are afflicted with one of these rare genetic diseases. Why? Because with more common diseases, at least there is some hope. Some funding going toward a cure. Unlike these rare diseases, which have little funding, if any at all.

  “This is logical, of course, since the goal is to help and save as many children as possible, and a lot more kids are stricken with cancer and diabetes than Hutchinson-Gilford Progeria, which causes accelerated aging, and children die from ‘old age’ before they even reach high school. Just to give one example.

  “But that doesn’t make these children any less valuable, and doesn’t make their families’ suffering any less. And it sure doesn’t seem logical to those parents, when they’re told that their child wasn’t ‘lucky’ enough to get a disease that has the funding to seek new cures and drug trials.”

  After a long pause to let his words sink in, he pointed to where Chuck and the others were seated. “Then along came a girl named Carolyn Whitcomb … some would call her Supergirl. Carolyn was born with a rare genetic disorder called Congenital Insensitivity to Pain with Anhidrosis, CIPA for short. What this means is that Carolyn and those like her can’t feel physical pain.

  “I know you’re probably thinking; that sounds like a good thing—no more cranky arthritis, or that old football injury that aches whenever the weather changes. But that would discount that pain serves as one of the body’s important warning signs. In her young life, Carolyn has already knocked out numerous teeth from running into walls at full speed, once bit off a portion of her tongue, and dislocated her shoulder leaping off a fifteen foot staircase. Last year she required an emergency appendectomy, having almost died because she didn’t have the normal signs that something was wrong.”

  Carolyn leaned to her father’s ear and whispered. “He forgot to say that I got shot, should I tell him?”

  “How about we keep that our little secret.”

  Dr. Soos continued, “And the Anhidrosis part means that Carolyn doesn’t properly sweat. Her body often overheats, causing dangerous fevers. She is one of the lucky ones though—many CIPA children harm themselves to the point they must spend the rest of their lives in wheelchairs, or their fevers are so severe they cause brain damage. Carolyn has an active, as-normal-as-possible lifestyle, and is also one of the brightest students in her kindergarten class. And she wants to help those with CIPA who are less fortunate than herself. To have the type of life she is able to enjoy.”

  She leaned in again, and whispered in Chuck’s ear, “He left out that I read at a fourth grade level … should I tell him? Maybe he forgot.”

  “I read at a fourth grade level too, it’s nothing to brag about.”

  She giggled. “You’re funny, Daddy.”

  “So when Carolyn was told that there was no cure for CIPA, and none expected during her lifetime due to the rarity of the disease—less than 100 known cases in the United States—she didn’t think that was fair. And she said, and I quote, ‘Why don’t we put all the rare diseases together, and make one big, gigantic disease, and then they’d have to look for a cure, right?

  “The light bulb had gone on, and the wheels went into motion. Her aunt, Dana Boulanger, brought together her family with Daniel’s House, and we have developed a big, gigantic disease that we are calling Genetic Umbrella Disorders—GUD for short. Or as we might say here in Boston, it was a wicked gud idea.”

  The line elicited small laughter from the audience, and Dr. Soos instructed them to look under their seats where each person would receive a complimentary umbrella with the Daniel’s House logo on it. It featured an array of colors all meeting at the tip, symbolizing the assortment of disorders that would now be considered “under one umbrella.”

  “But please—and I’m basing this on my extensive scientific background—don’t open them inside, as it will cause bad luck. And we need all the good lu
ck we can get.”

  More laughter. Dr. Soos certainly had the crowd in the palm of his hand.

  “But it’s just a start—we believe this is the first step in making Daniel’s House the leading hospital in the world, in both research and treatment of the GUDs. The rarest of diseases will be met by the most unique and talented doctors we can find from around the world.”

  Carolyn again whispered, “I thought this wasn’t a hospital. Why did he say it was a hospital? You know I don’t like hospitals.”

  “I’m sure he just misspoke. But maybe you can ask him,” Chuck said, and pointed out that he was calling her up to the stage.

  “I can go on stage, really?” she asked with a huge smile. Chuck loved that smile.

  “You better hurry up before he changes his mind.”

  Carolyn ran as fast as she could in her pink dress, extending her arms like Supergirl does when she flies. Dr. Soos offered to help her onto the stage, but she jumped right on up, just as he had. The crowd gave her a standing ovation and she took a bow; the smile still plastered on her face.

  Dr. Soos handed her the microphone, which was always a dangerous proposition. “I’m glad I could help make a big, gigantic disease,” she began. Not something one would normally be proud of.

  “I’m also glad that kids have a house to go to, instead of a hospital. I thought children’s hospitals would be fun, but then I found out that Dr. Jordan was a dragon, and then I didn’t like them.”

  Chuck cringed, but thankfully Carolyn’s role in the takedown of Operation Anesthesia had never been made public. She just sounded like a little kid on a sugar high, rambling incoherently.

  “Is there anyone you would like to thank for making this special day happen?” Dr. Soos asked her.

  “Oh yeah—I would thank my dad, who let’s me do stuff. He says no at first, but then changes his mind. And my teacher, Miss Stevens, even though she’s not my teacher anymore, for not being mad when I took the braid out of my hair.”