Ms. Candy Striper moved toward the elevators and I bent my knees, ready to make a run for Room 311. But she only took a few steps and then stopped, turning back, her expression curious. “I was just wondering …?”
“Yeah?” he asked.
“You said it was just a matter of time for that girl.” She pointed to my room. “How much time?”
“Until the heart transplant recipient is ready.” He frowned. “Two days.”
12
I sagged against the wall.
Two days — only two freakin’ days!
I had to get back into my body — ASAP!
But the intern seemed in no hurry to leave. He spent like twenty minutes talking with a nurse. They consulted a medical chart, speaking in the foreign language of medical jargon. Finally he left, but wouldn’t you know? The nurse didn’t. She walked into Room 311, shutting the door so I could no longer see the white curtain surrounding my real body. I threw my hands up, wanting to
Instead, I sucked in deep breaths (like my book
I had reached 137 seconds when I heard a strange sound. A dark and furry creature streaked past me so fast the breeze swirled my hair into my eyes. When I pushed back my hair, the black blur was disappearing down the hall. A dog? What was a dog doing running loose in a hospital? And what was the weird glow around its neck?
A Comforter!
“Cola!” I shouted, jumping up. “
This was the best news I’d had since dying. Grammy Greta must have sent him to help me. So why was he running? Was I supposed to follow him? He must be leading me somewhere important. So I shot down the hall after my dead dog.
Racing around a corner, I dodged past a surprised-looking man. Murmuring an apology, I caught a glimpse of a shaggy tail and raced past a busy pharmacy, up a flight of stairs, and through a set of doors marked “No Admittance.” A guy in scrubs shouted for me to slow down, but otherwise no one paid much attention. Emergencies happen all the time in a hospital.
Still, it was weird that people noticed me but not Cola. How could anyone miss a medium-sized shaggy black dog? It was like he was invisible.
Invisible?
That made sense because Cola’s job as Comforter would be difficult if everyone could see him. But if this was true, why could I see him?
Was it because of our bond when he was alive? Or maybe because of my whole freaky out-of-body experience? But why didn’t he just come up to me? If he was here to rescue me, running
Running was agony; my throat burned and I ached everywhere. Still, I kept going, determined. Walls and people blurred as I ran, gasping for breath, heart pumping so fast I was afraid it would burst. Couldn’t keep … keep going … going much longer. I didn’t have the breath to shout for Cola to slow down, so I screamed it in my head.
And he did.
At the junction of a T-shaped hall, Cola whipped his tail around and crouched low as he faced me. With narrowed black eyes, he bared sharp angry teeth and growled.
“Cola!” I jumped back. “What’s wrong?”
In my head I heard an angry snarl:
If he’d bit me, I couldn’t have been more surprised. “Cola, you don’t mean that!” I cried. “What’s wrong?”
He growled again.
“Why are you acting like this?”
His fur bristled like sharp blades and he moved a step forward, glaring.
I couldn’t figure out why he had turned vicious. It was like he didn’t even know me.
Well, duh! I hit my palm to my head. Of course he didn’t recognize me.
“Cola!” I cried softly. “I know I look different, but I’m still your best friend. Cola, I’m Amber.”
He snarled, curling his lips in a dangerous, threatening warning.
“Then why are you acting like this?”
“Don’t you think I know that?” I pointed at myself. “Only no one will believe that I’m Amber, not Leah. I don’t want to be in this body, but I don’t know how to get back in my own. Can’t you help me?”
“But my real body is going to … to die …” I wiped my eyes. “In two days.”
His dark eyes softened as he shook his shaggy black head.
Of course, I followed. I kept going, determined not to lose Cola and probably my last chance to fix my body problem.
By the time I caught up with Cola, he was streaking through another set of “No Admittance” doors. Damn, what was it with him and forbidden areas? This time I didn’t slip by without notice. An elderly nurse looked up from a desk in furious surprise. She appeared frail enough to be one of her own patients, but the spunky little lady bellowed,
The nurse slowed at a steep flight of stairs. I hurried up them, then made a sharp right behind Cola down a narrow hall. He passed through a closed door as if he and the door had no more substance than clouds.
I touched the door: impenetrable, solid wood. Through a small square window at eye level I glimpsed a wisp of a white curtain around a bed. I bent over to catch my breath, and as I stood again I noticed a medical chart tucked in a plastic wall container. I lifted the paper and tried to make sense of the medical scribbles. All I could decipher was the patient’s name:
Lacking Cola’s ability to pass through solid objects, I twisted the knob and cautiously opened the door. The scent of antiseptics and hopelessness swallowed me. It was like falling into a coffin; sensing, without actually seeing the solitary figure in the hospital bed, that his closest companion was death.
Still, there was no going back for me. “Never give up” was a repeated theme in all of my books, advice I tucked tight in my heart.
The door fell silently shut behind me and I tiptoed forward. A TV droned on, but the wrinkled, pale man in the bed wasn’t watching. He stared up at the empty white ceiling with faded eyes and sadness. There were no flowers or cards on his table, as if he’d been abandoned by life and was just waiting for his body to give up, too.
But then he noticed the dog beside his bed.
I opened my mouth to call Cola but found that I couldn’t speak. I grabbed my throat, struggling to make any sound, but it was like someone had turned my volume to “off.” Not even a whisper escaped. A message flashed in my mind:
“I can’t,” I whispered.
Cola sounded even angrier than before. Well, I was angry, too, at being stuck in the wrong body and no one
