THE RECONSTRUCTION OF MAI LI HASTINGS 46

I read the play version of Daniel Keyes’ FLOWERS FOR ALGERNON when I was in eighth grade. It has stayed with me for decades, a haunting symbol for both the overwhelming possibilities of the human intellect and the overwhelming impossibilities faced by a profoundly challenged human mind. I’ve started and stopped this novel a half a dozen times in eleven years. I want to bring the original idea into the present millennium. To read RECONSTRUCTION from beginning to here, click on the label to the right and scroll several pages back until you get to the bottom first entry – which happens to be Chapter 2...

In the front row of the church during the funeral, Job leaned over to CJ and whispered, “I can’t believe she’s gone.”

Talking out of the side of his mouth, CJ said back, “I can’t believe it’s like a million degrees in here.”

CJ’s mom gave the boys a side-long pained look and they stopped.

The service was short, quiet and small.

School had been out for four days and after the late nights and rushing around was more-or-less over, CJ had finally gone into the back yard and stood over another grave. This one he had dug himself. Him and Job had buried Butterfly Beardsley. He died the day after Mai Li and CJ had cried harder for the guinea pig than he’d cried for his sister.

After the service, Mom said, “If you boys want to leave you can. All this is going to be is a bunch of old people mourning their own dead.”

“You mean it, Mom? You gonna be all right?”

She sniffed. “I’ve handled you and your sister for the past fifteen years, I can take care of the relatives.”

Job said, “Are you gonna handle the reporters outside, too, Mrs. Hastings?”

She smiled sadly and said, “I hired lawyers and bodyguards for that.”

“I thought you hired the lawyers to sue Dr. Douchebag?”

“That,” she smiled. “But I got other lawyers to take care up us...”

CJ cut in, “They’re going to sell Mai Li’s inventions.”

Mom said, “More like patent some of the inventions – like the reading teacher, the brain-repair nanomachines, and the silicon brain.”

“Silicon brain?” CJ asked.

Mom nodded. “You remember when she started her research? When she tied all those electronic toys together, she made a sort of human brain. The lawyer company I hired will get the patents so that CJ can go to any college he wants to go to.” She smiled at Job and said, “I’ll be setting up some scholarships at Carter High School. You can probably apply for one to go to college, Job. No go before one of my old aunties starts patting your cheek.”

CJ and Job ducked out of the meeting room that was filling with people dabbing their eyes and walking toward Mom. They were outside a few minutes later. The sun was hot on their heads and they were only a few blocks from CJ’s house, so they started walking. Job said, “You buried Beardsley the Killer?”

He wasn’t sure why, but all of a sudden, he got teary-eyed. He nodded, “Let’s go. I gotta put some flowers on Beardsley’s grave.” Job nodded slowly. CJ took a deep breath and said, “You know what the French word for bearded is?”

Job scowled. They had to take a language in middle school in eighth grade and they knew that there’d been lots of pirates who were French, and their favorite flatties were THE PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN, so they figured it’d be fun. He said, “Isn’t it something like Algernon?”

CJ smiled and nodded as they headed for the house. Summer was starting and he had a lot of time to have a lot of fun. He looked at Job, said, “Race ya!” and sprinted down the street.

“Hey!” shouted Job and raced right after him.

END

Image: http://themindgarden.files.wordpress.com/2009/04/indian-sunset-with-boys-running-dan-brady.jpg?w=468

THE RECONSTRUCTION OF MAI LI HASTINGS 45

I read the play version of Daniel Keyes’ FLOWERS FOR ALGERNON when I was in eighth grade. It has stayed with me for decades, a haunting symbol for both the overwhelming possibilities of the human intellect and the overwhelming impossibilities faced by a profoundly challenged human mind. I’ve started and stopped this novel a half a dozen times in eleven years. I want to bring the original idea into the present millennium. To read RECONSTRUCTION from beginning to here, click on the label to the right and scroll several pages back until you get to the bottom first entry – which happens to be Chapter 2...

CJ reached the stairs first, the paramedic right behind him.

That was a good thing, because CJ almost didn’t make it up the stairs, teetering at the top and leaning back far enough that Darryl had to push him forward with a hand in the small of his back.

Job was waiting for him at the top of the stairs. He grabbed his best friend’s T-shirt and pulled himself up. Job shouted, “Hey! This is my best Green Lantern shirt!”

CJ staggered past him, Darryl close behind with Mom bringing up the rear. Mom dashed past Darryl then as she and CJ ran up the stairs together. Mai Li screamed again when they reached her room.

CJ’s sister was thrashing on her bed, her eyes wide and wild. He and his mom reached her at the same time. Mom sliding her arm under Mai Li’s head. CJ vaulted over her bed, landing on the other side, panting, the world swinging around him wildly. He thought he was gonna barf again, but swallowed hard and didn’t. Mom said, “Mai Li, sweetheart. We’re here. Mom and CJ are here.”

Darryl and Job stood in the doorway, panting.

Mai Li stopped screaming. She stopped struggling. She looked at Mom, then looked at CJ. She smiled at him, reached out and put her hand along the side of his face. She hauled off and slapped him. “Idiot! Why did you leave me? I’ve got so much to tell you! I think I know how to fix the nanomachines so that they won’t start to retro-construct my brain. You’re gonna be the only one who can fix it, kiddo.”

“Me?” CJ exclaimed. He looked up at Mom, who was looking at him, too. “I can’t hardly read without a coach! What makes you think I can do what you did?”

She smiled and reached out for his face again. He flinched when she put her hand back where it had been. “Sorry about that. I’m not really in control anymore.” For a minute, her eyes went vague. Her hand fell back to her side and for a horrible and thrilling moment, CJ saw her old self. Not the arrogant, Lady Genius Smarter Than The Whole World, but the sister he’d grown up with. The one who could barely pick up her Oat Ring cereal. The one who drooled.

The one who needed him and Mom.

An instant later, Mai Li the Lady Genius was looking at him. She said, “The nanos are eating my brain, idiot brother. There’s nothing I can do about it. But the research is sound – it’s just that Dr. Douchebag was in it to make a buck and get the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine.”

“But I’m not a genius!”

Mai Li smiled and pulled her hand back as if to slap him. He jerked away. She grabbed his hand and pulled him closer. “You aren’t the kind of genius I am, idiot little brother, but you’re still a genius. Now that you can read decently, there’s nothing that will stand in your way.” She let go of him and he fell backwards. Job caught him. His best friend always had his back.

She lay quiet for a while, her eyes open, staring at the ceiling. She turned to Mom and held out her hand. Mom took it as Mai Li said, “Mai Li loves her mommy. Even when she’s pulling her hair. The only reason she does that is to get closer to her mommy. She doesn’t mean to hurt. Just to be close. Don’t be mad, mommy. Please don’t be mad.”

Mai Li closed her eyes. Her breathing slowed. Then stopped.

Mai Li was dead.

Image: http://www.visualphotos.com/photo/2x4115409/.jpg

THE RECONSTRUCTION OF MAI LI HASTINGS 44

I read the play version of Daniel Keyes’ FLOWERS FOR ALGERNON when I was in eighth grade. It has stayed with me for decades, a haunting symbol for both the overwhelming possibilities of the human intellect and the overwhelming impossibilities faced by a profoundly challenged human mind. I’ve started and stopped this novel a half a dozen times in eleven years. I want to bring the original idea into the present millennium. To read RECONSTRUCTION from beginning to here, click on the label to the right and scroll several pages back until you get to the bottom first entry – which happens to be Chapter 2...

He groaned, his stomach heaved, but he  kept everything down and didn’t barf on anyone.

At least he didn’t THINK he barfed on anyone as he went back to sleep.

The next time he woke up, someone said, “We ran a full set of CAT scans and there’s no evidence of a concussion. He’ll be woozy for a day or so. You could keep him home from school for a couple of days.”

He chose that moment to sit up from the waist. Mom and some medical person started and he said, “I’m not woozy.” He looked at Mom and said, “Where…” He was in his basement bedroom. “Mom?”

She nodded to the man, “This is Darryl. He’s the paramedic who just brought us home. Do you remember walking into the house?”

CJ blinked at her, then looked at Darryl. Finally he said, “I sorta do.” In the corner of his room Butterfly/Beardsley squeaked. He moved to get out of bed and the world swung around him. Mom and Darryl moved toward him but he held up a hand. “Hang on. I gotta go to the last two or whatever days of school...”

“The school’s going to Valleyfaire! You can’t possibly go, Christopher!”

“Kid, I ain’t your dad, but if you’re lookin’ to commit suicide, all you gotta do is go down on the Slaughtermaker once and you’ll probably die half way through. Most likely surely you’ll die if you don’t get off at the halfway point.” He shrugged, said to CJ’s Mom, “Don’t let him say I didn’t warn him,” then climbed up the stairs.

“You’re not going! I’m not going to lose both of my children…”

CJ jumped to his feet, swayed then started up the stairs, “Mai Li didn’t die!”

“No!” Mom shouted, grabbing him by a pant leg and holding his foot down. “She’s sleeping upstairs and if you’d just stop a second I’ll tell you what happened!”

CJ stopped moving, turned and because the rest of the world kept turning around him, sat down hard on the stairs. He said, “What?”

Mom walked up and sat on the step below his and said, “Whatever it was that you shot into her IV stabilized all of her signs. She woke up, she was eating and talking – but she was sleeping a lot. I said I was taking her home. They couldn’t think of any reason to keep us there now that they know Doctor Chazhukaran is a lunatic and not only tried to kill you but also tried to kill your sister. I told the hospital that I’d be suing them pretty much immediately if they didn’t let us go home. So they smiled, sent their best doctors and made it so we got out in record time. Mai Li’s sleeping upstairs. She said that was one of the effects of giving her the dose of the nanomachines she designed.”

“So she’s getting better?”

Mom nodded. “She told me to tell you…”

An ear-splitting scream came from upstairs...

Image: http://img.ehowcdn.com/article-new/ehow/images/a02/06/fu/talk-teenagers-800x800.jpg

THE RECONSTRUCTION OF MAI LI HASTINGS 43

I read the play version of Daniel Keyes’ FLOWERS FOR ALGERNON when I was in eighth grade. It has stayed with me for decades, a haunting symbol for both the overwhelming possibilities of the human intellect and the overwhelming impossibilities faced by a profoundly challenged human mind. I’ve started and stopped this novel a half a dozen times in eleven years. I want to bring the original idea into the present millennium. To read RECONSTRUCTION from beginning to here, click on the label to the right and scroll four pages back until you get to the bottom.

Mai Li couldn’t speak because she had a tube down her throat, but CJ knew the look in her eyes.

It scared him, because it wasn’t the look of his genius sister any more. It was the look of a person, not mentally challenged, but no great shakes, either. The burning intensity of her brilliant mind didn’t shine through her eyes. He exclaimed, “Did they drug her?”

Mom was right behind him and said, “Of course they did, sweetie. She was starting to suffer.”

“But how’s she going to figure out how to make herself better if she’s high?”

Mom shook her head, gently put her hand on his arm and said, “They say that she’s not even going to wake up, Chris. We have to...”

He turned on her then, “You’re just going to let her die? Who said she should be drugged? Who said we should just give up? She’s a mega genius, Mom! Dr. Douchebag is...” he struggled with the word. He’d been trained for ten years not to use under any circumstance. It still stuck in his craw, but he hawked and spat it anyway.

Job staggered back, eyes bugging white in his black face. Mom raised her hand to slap him.

Mai Li made strangled noises from the bed, the hand closest to them twitching. Her head turned slowly and suddenly her eyes opened. She looked directly at CJ and for a moment, they burned wildly.

As if compelled by a zombie master, he lunged forward, and yanked a tube hanging down from the IV tree. Mom screamed. Job cursed. There was an alarm on the IV tree that went off, making a sound like a tiny London police car.

Close to where the IV was taped down, CJ grabbed the tube and pushed it toward the end he’d pulled free. Golden IV fluid gushed on the floor in the direction of the door. He pulled the squirt gun from his pocket and pressed the nozzle to the tube and started pumping. A nurse, an orderly and at least one other person ran into the room.

All of them slipped on IV fluid, their arms pin-wheeling crazily as they accidentally hit each other.

He heard Job go down with a voice-cracked wail. Mom must have as well and the two of them being there first made for a pile up at the door. By the time the first orderly reached him and jerked his feet out from under him, the squirt gun was empty.

CJ wrestled free of the orderly, scrambled to his knees and pulled himself up alongside the bed using the rails. At that moment, the security guards arrived at the door and the nurses both tackled him, dragging him down and slamming his chin against the railing, flipping him backward where he slammed his head against the ground.

Mom screamed again, Job bellowed in a tenor voice, the Security guards both shouted, “Freeze!” and CJ didn’t notice what else was going after that.

Image: http://cdn.ebaumsworld.com/thumbs/video/2216209/82737187.jpg

THE RECONSTRUCTION OF MAI LI HASTINGS 42

I read the play version of Daniel Keyes’ FLOWERS FOR ALGERNON when I was in eighth grade. It has stayed with me for decades, a haunting symbol for both the overwhelming possibilities of the human intellect and the overwhelming impossibilities faced by a profoundly challenged human mind. I’ve started and stopped this novel a half a dozen times in eleven years. I want to bring the original idea into the present millennium. To read RECONSTRUCTION from beginning to here, click on the label to the right and scroll four pages back until you get to the bottom.

WRITER’S NOTE: I HAD AN IDEA FOR THE END OF THE STORY THAT I LIKED BETTER, SO I’M GOING TO BACK UP A BIT AND REWRITE IT…

“Huh. Funny you should say that. If my sister isn’t smarter than you, I must be.”

“You’re not smarter than me! You’re a retard!”

CJ’s raised his eyebrows and said softly, “That’s not a very politically correct term, Dr. Chazhukaran.”

“What, getting all formal now?” the man said. He hadn’t stopped moving, creeping up on CJ, acting as if he wasn’t stalking him. “If the shoe fits…”

CJ rolled his eyes, but he let them slip back to the two Hospital Security officers sneaking up on Dr. Douchebag. The woman officer’s eyes widened slightly as she and her partner moved smoothly and silently up toward the doctor. Both carried stunners. CJ said, “My sister says I’m not retarded, just stupid.”

“She’s just being nice.”

“Put your hands up into the air slowly, sir,” said the woman officer.

Dr. Douchebag’s eyes bugged out, but he didn’t make any move to put his hands up. Instead, he glared at CJ and snarled, “How are you doing that?”

“Doing what?” CJ asked.

“Throwing your voice like that.”

The male officer said, “He’s not throwing his voice, Sir. You’re being covered by two full amp

taser stun guns. If you don’t put your hands over your head, we’ll have to stun you.”

Dr. Chazhukaran’s hands slowly went into the air, but he said, “This boy is a menace to society! His sister told me he’s not only retarded but he can’t read and he’s possibly violent! Please, you have to believe me! Let me stop this incident before it turns deadly!”

Both officers scowled and lowered their stunners slightly.

This time CJ’s eyes bulged and Dr. Douchebag started to grin. He kept talking, too, his voice smoother and oilier than CJ had ever heard it – except when he was talking to his staff or other doctors, or even CJ’s mom. It’s how he talked when we was conning people. He’d tried it on Mai Li and it had failed miserably, even when she was her brain was still scrambled or whatever had been wrong with her.

With that voice, the man would be able to get whatever he wanted from them. He’d get off the hook.

There was only one way out of this. His pulse suddenly began to pound as CJ said, “I can read.”

Dr. Chazhukaran said, “You can’t! Your sister said you can’t!”

CJ looked at the cops and said, “Do you have something for me to read?”

They glanced at each other. The woman raised an eyebrow then reached behind her back and pulled out a organic computer tablet. She activated it then handed it to CJ.

He swallowed hard. He hadn’t read in front of people out loud since he was in like, third grade. That was the last time that ever happened. His teachers must have passed word to each other that if you asked CJ Hastings to read out loud in class, you better have a barf bucket or a mop handy. He started skimming like Mai Li had taught him then smiled a little. He looked up at the doctor, then down at the tablet and read, “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand these rights I have just read to you?”

Dr. Douchebag shouted, “He didn’t read that! He memorized the Miranda Warning!”

CJ said, “Whose warnings?”

The doctor lunged forward, crying, “You little...”

As the doctor screamed,  the woman motioned CJ down. He dropped as their stunners hummed. He felt a tingling sensation – like when he hit his crazy bone – for just a second. Dr. Douchebag crumpled like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

CJ scrambled to his feet and said, “Thanks! Now, I’ve got to get to my...”

Without lowering their weapons, the man said, “Hand over the gun, son.”

CJ frowned, holding up the blue plastic toy. “It’s a squirt gun.”

The woman said, “The last time someone came in here with a squirt gun, it had acid in it and they were set on attacking their ex. So give us the squirt gun and you can get to your mom and sister.”

CJ nodded and handed her the gun. She nodded, as her partner got on his com and called in back up and a cart. CJ hurried down the hall, hoping she wouldn’t ask if he had other squirt guns. She called after him and said, “Why did this guy want your squirt gun?”

CJ turned around and shrugged, saying, “He’s my sister’s doctor and he wants to go out with her. She thinks he’s too old and sorta stuck up. He thinks I can make her like him more, so he’s trying to pressure me into taking his side against my sister.”

The man shook his head. But the woman muttered, “Douchebag,” and kicked the doctor between the legs.

“Hey!” the security guy exclaimed.

She gave him a look and said, “Let that be a lesson to you, Maynard.”

CJ had no idea what was going on, so he turned and hurried through the halls of the hospital until he got to Mai Li’s room.

The other two squirt guns sloshed in his pockets as he scurried around the corner.

Another doctor was standing in front of Mai Li’s room. Mom was there – her head was in her hands. Job stood to one side, trying to be invisible. CJ said, “What happened?”

They all turned to look at him. Mom ran forward, bent down on a knee and said, “We thought the doctor kidnapped you!”

“Nah. He got stunned by security. How’s Mai?”

Mom bit at her lower lip. The doctor moved down the hallway. Mom shook her head. “Not good, honey. I told this doctor everything I know and gave him and the rest of the hospital complete access to your sister’s files. I also threatened a lawsuit against the University of Minnesota and promised to make sure to be ready for the lawsuit I was going to bring against them as soon as your sister died if they didn’t allow this hospital complete access to the research Dr. Chazhukaran’s been doing. They said they couldn’t do that – exactly, but that they would cooperate as much as they could.”

CJ snorted and said, “We don’t need their help any more. Mai sent me home to get the cure. I have it in my back pocket.” He almost pulled out the squirt guns, but didn’t know where the security team was and didn’t want to get zapped like Dr. Douchebag so he said, “I’ll go in…”

Mom held out her arm. “We can’t go in, Sweetie. Mai is in critical condition and she...”

CJ dodged around her and shoved open the hospital door, leaning back against it then looking at Mai.

His breath caught. She looked like she was tangled in a web of plastic tubes, wires, bags, suspended monitors and stands.

She looked like a monster.

Her head turned and she moaned…

Image: http://blog.mlive.com/chronicle/2008/10/large_02erin_johnson01.jpg

THE RECONSTRUCTION OF MAI LI HASTINGS 41

I read the play version of Daniel Keyes’ FLOWERS FOR ALGERNON when I was in eighth grade. It has stayed with me for decades, a haunting symbol for both the overwhelming possibilities of the human intellect and the overwhelming impossibilities faced by a profoundly challenged human mind. I’ve started and stopped this novel a half a dozen times in eleven years. I want to bring the original idea into the present millennium. To read RECONSTRUCTION from beginning to here, click on the label to the right and scroll four pages back until you get to the bottom.     

“Why should I? You’re just gonna steal Mai Li’s invention and claim you were the one who made it!” CJ Hastings said.

“I made her, so I made this!” he growled. The hospital around them was dimly lit, every other bank of lights out for the night. The floor was lightly staffed, relying on a monitor station in the center of the hospital. Robot cleaners buzzed silently past them, sweeping and polishing the floor. Faint beeps and blips and whooshes! filtered into the hallway from the rooms.

But there was no one nearby and the waiting room where Mom and Job were sleeping was a long way away. Dr. Douchebag grinned and said, “Whatcha gonna do, kid? I’m the grownup here; an MD grownup no less! I know more than you’ll ever know! Even if we get caught, if I say I was here for a grownup reason and caught you sneaking around and up to no good – with squirt guns no less! – not only will they believe me, they’ll arrest you!”

“They won’t arrest me for just coming into the hospital at night! My mom is here and if I scream loud enough that you’re molesting me, who do YOU think is gonna get thrown into jail faster?” Dr. Douchebag looked uncertain for an instant.

CJ shoved him aside and sprinted down the hall.

Dr. Douchebag shouted a vulgarity, spinning around but lashed out with his foot and caught CJ’s ankle and he fell. Rolling to his feet, he twisted out of the evil doctor’s grasp and pelted down the hall.

He hadn’t gone two steps when red lights started flashing along the ceiling. The room doors swung silently closed and he heard the clear sound of a deadbolt locking each one. A quiet voice said, “You have been detected and identified as an intruder. Please remain where you are. Hospital Security will arrive shortly and you will need to explain your presence in the hospital and on this floor. You will also need to provide a picture identification issued either by the State of Minnesota or this hospital. If you have neither, you will be stunned and detained by Hospital...”

“Nowhere to go now, kid!” said Dr. Douchebag.

“What world were you born in?” CJ said and sprinted down the hallway, running on tip toes.

“Hey! You can’t...”

CJ ran. He’d snuck out of the hospital a different way than the one he’d come in. Then he remembered that he’d waved to the security guard – the same one who’d signed him out on the computer. He stopped suddenly, turning to confront Dr. D. CJ said, “Is that how you do business? Scaring people?”

“You just wait until Security gets here, kid!”

“That’s OK, ‘cause I checked out with Security and I checked back in with Security.” CJ paused and smiled wickedly. “Did you, Doctor Douchebag?”

“You checked out and in?” The man’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why?”

CJ reached into his back pocket and pulled out one of the frozen squirt guns he’d taken from the freezer at home. “Mai Li said that she filled this gun with a liquid of some sort. She said that when she drinks it, it’ll put nanos into her that will stop the other ones from rebuilding her brain.”

“She can’t have…”

“What, Dr. Douchebag? Having trouble believing that someone is smarter than you are?”

“She’s not smarter than me!” he shouted.

“Huh. Funny you should say that. If my sister isn’t smarter than you, I must be.”

“You’re not smarter than me! You’re a retard!”

CJ’s raised his eyebrows and said softly, “That’s not a very politically correct term, Dr. Chazhukaran.”

“What, getting all formal now?” the man said. He hadn’t stopped moving, creeping up on CJ, acting as if he wasn’t stalking him. “If the shoe fits…”

CJ rolled his eyes, but he let them slip back to the two Hospital Security officers sneaking up on Dr. Douchebag. The woman officer’s eyes widened slightly as she and her partner moved smoothly and silently up toward the doctor. Both carried stunners. CJ said, “My sister says I’m not retarded, just stupid.”

“She’s just being nice.”

CJ could see the man’s muscles tense. Security saw the same thing. Just before they fired, the woman motioned him down. CJ dropped, the stunners hummed. He felt a tingling sensation – like when he hit his crazy bone – for just a second. Dr. Douchebag crumpled like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

CJ said, “Thanks! Now, I’ve got to get to my...”

Without lowering their weapons, the man said, “Hand over the gun, son.”

CJ frowned, holding up the blue plastic toy. “It’s a squirt gun.”

The woman said, “The last time someone came in here with a squirt gun, it had acid in it and they were set on attacking their ex. So give us the squirt gun and you can get to your mom and sister.”

CJ nodded and handed her the gun. She nodded, as her partner got on his com and called in back up and a cart. CJ hurried down the hall, hoping she wouldn’t ask if he had other squirt guns. She called after him and said, “Why did this guy want your squirt gun?”

CJ turned around and shrugged, saying, “He’s my sister’s doctor and he wants to go out with her. She thinks he’s too old and sorta stuck up. He thinks I can make her like him more, so he’s trying to pressure me into taking his side against my sister.”

The man shook his head. But the woman muttered, “Douchebag,” and kicking him between the legs.

“Hey!” the security guy exclaimed.

She gave him a look and said, “Let that be a lesson to you, Maynard.”

CJ had no idea what was going on, so he turned and hurried through the halls of the hospital until he got to Mai Li’s room. As he turned the corner, he saw that Job and Mom were awake and three hospital people were standing outside her door. An older man shook his head, said something to Mom – who started crying…

Image: http://www.independent.co.uk/migration_catalog/article5252294.ece/ALTERNATES/w460/pg-32-taser-ap.jpeg

THE RECONSTRUCTION OF MAI LI HASTINGS 40

I read the play version of Daniel Keyes’ FLOWERS FOR ALGERNON when I was in eighth grade. It has stayed with me for decades, a haunting symbol for both the overwhelming possibilities of the human intellect and the overwhelming impossibilities faced by a profoundly challenged human mind. I’ve started and stopped this novel a half a dozen times in eleven years. I want to bring the original idea into the present millennium. To read RECONSTRUCTION from beginning to here, click on the label to the right and scroll five pages back until you get to the bottom.

It was pitch dark outside and no one really paid much attention to him. The security guard at the hospital entrance looked up. CJ said, “I’m with my sister in 1311. It’s a private room. My mom and my best friend are sleeping. I just need to get outside to breathe.”

The lady studied him for a moment then asked, “What’s your name, kid?”

“CJ – uh, Christopher Hastings. My mom is Jessica Hastings.”

She logged him into her computer then nodded, “OK. Just make sure you check back in when you’re done.”

He nodded and walked outside. Once he was clear of the windows, he started running, screeching to a halt a second later. Job had hidden the bikes! He turned in a full circle but didn’t see them. “Come on CJ, think! Job’s your best friend – where would you hide the bikes if you were him?”

Not directly in front of the hospital, that was for sure. He ran along the sidewalk between the street and the building, past the EMERGENCY entrance and stopped in front of the brilliantly lit main doors. Purple flowering bushes, beds of red and yellow blooms and green hedges so well-trimmed the edges were sharp enough to cut skin decorated the mall. In the center a huge sign lit from within and from below announced the hospital’s name. The base was wrapped more hedges trimmed to look like steps leading from the ground up.

CJ grinned and scampered forward, falling down and crab-walking on all fours, ducking farther under the bush. He found the bikes and tugged his out, leaped on it and headed home. He and Job had ridden to the theater nearby and after planning the trip extensively with CJ’s mom and Job’s parents, they’d allowed the boys to go during spring break. He knew the way home by heart.

It would take him close to half an hour and it was late. He’d have to watch out for cops patrolling for curfew breakers. He pedaled as fast as he could, keeping an eye on the road and the shadows. By the time he reached the house, he was panting and had a stitch in his right side. He fumbled for the hidden key taped to the underside of the lawn light in the back yard then went into the house, ransacked his Life Box and found the squirt guns. All of them were full – of something. He carried the whole thing into his mom’s bathroom ‘cause it didn’t have a window, and turned on the light.

There was only one green squirt gun which he shoved into his pocket. He turned off the light after dumping the others in the sink. He stopped, reached back and grabbed three more, stuffing one in each pocket then headed back out to his bike, slipping the key in his pocket. He could put it back later.

The return trip was worse until the end because he was tired and part of it was uphill. But once he reached the little valley that held the hospital, the main road and four malls, he coasted most of the way back.

He stashed his bike again and ran back into the hospital, waving at the guard. She waved back. He didn’t pay any attention to the elevators and started up the stairs. He’d already biked six miles; his chest was heaving. He was sure that if he were an old man, he’d be having a heart attack right now!

A giant number thirteen appeared on the steps in front of him and the same number was painted in black on the door. He threw the door open.

Dr. Douchebag was standing two steps away. He held out his hand and said, “Give me the squirt gun, boy.”

Image: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/7/7e/Visalia_California_Kaweah_Delta_Hospital_at_night.JPG

THE RECONSTRUCTION OF MAI LI HASTINGS #39

I read the play version of Daniel Keyes’ FLOWERS FOR ALGERNON when I was in eighth grade. It has stayed with me for decades, a haunting symbol for both the overwhelming possibilities of the human intellect and the overwhelming impossibilities faced by a profoundly challenged human mind. I’ve started and stopped this novel a half a dozen times in eleven years. I want to bring the original idea into the present millennium. To read RECONSTRUCTION from beginning to here, click on the label to the right and scroll four pages back until you get to the bottom.

“What’s at home that you can’t get here?” CJ Hastings asked. He whispered, standing right next to his adopted sister’s hospital bed in Intensive Care

“The cure,” said Mai Li Hastings.

“What kind of cure are you gonna have at home that Dr. Douchebag…”

“My brain is worth about ten thousand of his!” she snarled, her new-old “I’m-smarter-than-anyone-on-the-planet attitude splashing out and all over everything.

CJ – who was only thirteen, after all – snapped back as he hissed, “So who’s gonna do this when I say ‘no’, ‘cause you’re treatin’ me like I was your servant?”

Mai Li leaned forward and grabbed a handful of his T-shirt and yanked him closer to her and said, “I’m gonna haunt you from the grave if you don’t…” She suddenly released him and fall back into the pillows. Her monitors didn’t go into the bells and buzzing and creeling of cardiac arrest, so CJ knew she hadn’t died. But her breathing was heavy when she said, “You know I’ll haunt you, kid, so you better just surrender and go get my magic formula.”

“What kind of magic formula? The same kind that made you smart and that’s taking all the brains back? You think I’m gonna go all the way to the house and then come back here with a drug that’s gonna kill you?” CJ’s voice hadn’t gotten louder, but the pitch had gone up until his voice abruptly cracked into the soprano of a third graders.

Mai Li smiled weakly then said, “You’re so passionate, little idiot brother, you make me laugh.” She paused and lay breathing lightly and said, “It’s my last chance. If it works, I should stabilize at this level. If it doesn’t work, then I just keep on deteriorating until I’m back to my original brain capacity.” She looked straight at him and said, “Either way, I win.”

“How’s dying gonna…”

“I’m not going to die, Chris. I’ll either be your obnoxious older sister with an IQ higher than Stephen Hawking and Madame Curie combined, or I become your dependent, Toasty-O-eating, mentally and physically handicapped, adoring sister again.” She touched his knuckles, which were white on the side rail. “I’d rather be the former, but I can live for a long time with the latter.”

“You remember that?”

“What? You force-feeding me dry, unsweetened cereal? Of course I do.” Her grin and the unexpected look in her eyes made CJ choke up. He nodded and headed for the door. Mai Li said, “Don’t you want to know what to look for?”

Blushing from forehead to T-shirt, he came back to the bed. “What am I looking for?”

“A blue squirt gun.”

“A what?”

“Remember the squirt guns Mom got for your tenth birthday party?”

“‘Course.”

“Mom saved a couple in your Life Box.”

“My Life Box? When did you go through that?”

“Never mind. I took one of them and created a soup of nanomachines that should stop the present brood in my head that are busy reassembling me to my former splendor. I put them in your squirt gun in the freezer. And just in case anyone was snooping, I filled up the other six she had with various liquids.”

“How am I supposed to know…”

She lifted her the cussing finger of her left hand. Each of her fingernails was painted a different color. The only she lifted was green. He nodded and started for the door again. He stopped, spun around and pointe an accusatory finger at her, saying, “Don’t even think about dying before I get back!”

Mai Li weakly lifted both hands in surrender. They sank back to her sides as her eyes closed and her head rolled to one side. CJ tip-toed out of the room, hesitated next to Job then thought better of it. If this was going to be his last mission for Mai Li, he was going to do it alone. Besides, Job couldn’t ride anywhere NEAR as fast as CJ could. Glancing at Mom who was asleep on a couch, he padded silently to the elevator and headed down.

Image: http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2746/4254259662_2d6762a5d0.jpg

The Reconstruction of Mai Li Hastings 38

I read the play version of Daniel Keyes’ FLOWERS FOR ALGERNON when I was in eighth grade. It has stayed with me for decades, a haunting symbol for both the overwhelming possibilities of the human intellect and the overwhelming impossibilities faced by a profoundly challenged human mind. I’ve started and stopped this novel a half a dozen times in eleven years. I want to bring the original idea into the present millennium. To read RECONSTRUCTION from beginning to here, click on the label to the right and scroll four pages back until you get to the bottom.

“So your intelligence is going to die?” CJ said.

Mai Li look at him then nodded slowly. “In the end, I’ll be the same person I started as.”

CJ dragged his hand over his forehead and said, “That’ll be a relief.”

Mai Li looked startled. Mom and Job looked at him like he was crazy. Mom began, “Christopher John…”

Mai Li busted out laughing, clamped a weak hand over her mouth then eyed him from behind her hand gag.

Mom’s scowl had lost its fierceness so CJ said, “I just mean that after the cranky genius she’s been for the past few months, it’ll be nice to have her be nice again!”

Mom snorted. Mai Li’s eyes twinkled and a nurse leaned in to shush them and say, “Visiting hours are over except for family,” she added her fierce look to Mom’s and said, “But we still expect moderation and decorum in here, so I’ll thank you to keep it down!”

CJ nodded. Job hid behind him and Mai Li uncovered her mouth, the grin slowly fading as she leaned back into the pillows, her eyes partly closing. Mom put out a hand to stop CJ when he started for her bedside. “She needs to sleep. One of us will stay awake at all times to let the others get some sleep.” He pointer finger moved to Job and she said, “Call your parents, tell them what’s going on and then tell them I want to talk to them.”

Job’s eyes bulged but he did as he was told and then handed the phone over to Mrs. Hastings. She made shooing motions to chase the boys out and they went into the hallway. CJ led the way to the Family Lounge at the far end of the corridor.

He said, “What’s going on at school?”

“Well, you know we won the Middle School Championship…”

CJ rolled his eyes. “I KNOW all that stuff! What’s going on since I left yesterday?

“Nothing. School’s out in four days. We’re going to Valley Faire on the last day. Mr. Jalfroun is relieved you’re staying in the school district and not going to some smart-ass school…”

CJ’s eyes bulged.

Job said, “I know HOW to cuss – I just choose not to.” CJ nodded as his friend continued and they talked on into the night until both boys dozed off.

“Christopher! Christopher John! Wake up!”

CJ swatted Mom’s hand away then sat bolt upright. “What’s wrong,” he said, rubbing his eyes. They felt like they had dirt in them.

“Nothing. I can’t stay awake anymore and you’ve got to sit with your sister.”

He stood up, nodded and started down the hallway. He looked back to see Mom watching him as he pushed the door open to Mai Li’s room. She waved then disappeared around the corner. CJ tip-toed in and sat down on the chair by the bed, checking the virtual monitor that hung suspended in the air over Mai Li’s bed. Her vital signs were good even though her electroencephalogram was wildly vibrating like her mind was going crazy. As soon as he sat down, he felt sleepy. Suddenly, Mai Li said, “I couldn’t wait much longer for Mom to leave.”

“What?”

“You have to go home.”

“What?”

Laying on the bed, Mai Li’s long black hair fanned out under her head, looking like the negative of a halo of light. She smirked and said, “Are you as stupid are you are ugly?”

“Hey!”

“Sh! Keep it down. You have to go home and get my last chance.”

“Last chance at what?”

“The last chance I’ll ever have to keep my mind and not lose everything I’ve become.”

Image: http://media2.senatus.net/files/myerscms/senatus_Gt8YVx.jpg

THE RECONSTRUCTION OF MAI LI HASTINGS 37

I read the play version of Daniel Keyes’ FLOWERS FOR ALGERNON when I was in eighth grade. It has stayed with me for decades, a haunting symbol for both the overwhelming possibilities of the human intellect and the overwhelming impossibilities faced by a profoundly challenged human mind. I’ve started and stopped this novel a half a dozen times in eleven years. I want to bring the original idea into the present millennium. To read RECONSTRUCTION from beginning to here, click on the label to the right and scroll four pages back until you get to the bottom.

CJ was sure he would hit Dr. Douchebag where it would hurt him most.

Suddenly, his head seemed to explode and everything went dark for a moment as he felt himself spinning to one side and crashing into the emergency cot.

Mom screamed.

The nurse cursed and in the distance, CJ thought he heard an alarm whooping.

After a few seconds, he felt hands lifting him, shouting and more things falling.

Mom was crying near his left ear and he heard Mai Li murmuring in the other. “CJ? Are you all right?” a totally unexpected voice asked.

He opened his eyes and said, “Job?”

“Hey, man.”

“What are you doing here?”

“You called, I came,” he said, smiling widely. “I could tell you needed me the second I got here.”

Mom said from his left ear, “He’s the one who called the police.”

In his right ear, Mai Li managed to say, “I called the lawyer. She’s a good friend of mine now.”

A strange voice from across the small emergency room said, “With the patent on your counter-treatment to Dr. Chazhukaran’s experimentation coupled with the lawsuit against him and the University of Minnesota – which, by the way, has severed all connection with him – and then bring a personal injury suit against him with the U of M as a co-defendant, will make my career, no doubt.”

Mai Li laughed faintly, “I like her attitude. I always know where she stands and if she thinks I’m being stupid, she says so.”

“She’s been very stupid in the past seven days,” the woman said.

“On the other hand, she was right here when Dr. Douche...” Mai Li gasped and fell back on her cot. Buzzers and bleating and the suddenly flurry of real doctors and nurses and Mom lifted him to the floor. He staggered and found Job’s arm around him, holding him up as they moved out of the way.

Another nurse ushered them out of the emergency suites. He said, “Wait here. Someone will be out when we know something.”

Sitting, CJ leaned forward, holding his head in his hands. “My head hurts.”

“That doctor...” Mom began.

“He punched you,” said Job.

“Punched...”

“He says you were going to hurt him,” Job said. “What a wimp. He thought you could hurt him.”

CJ looked up, “Hey!”

“You know what I mean!”

“He...”

The nurse came out and gestured to them, “Come in, please! Hurry.”

They got up and a wave of dizziness rolled over CJ. Mom stopped and Job grabbed him. “No! We have to go in! We have to hear what she has to say!” The two of them helped him into the suite. The nurse nodded them in and stepped back outside.

Mai Li was sitting up, smiling faintly. She said, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to die yet – and if I have anything to say about it, I won’t die for a long, long time.”

“You found a way to stop the nanos?” CJ exclaimed.

“I didn’t say I was going to stay a super genius wonder babe, Little Idiot Brother. I said I’m not going to die.”

“Then what...”

“If you quit interrupting me, I can tell you that I’ve been unable to find any way to stop the nanos from rebuilding my brain the way it was when Dr. Douchebag started his mad doctoring. My only attempt hasn’t made any difference, but my lawyer friend is punching through a patent on the little buggers.”

“So your intelligence is going to die,” Mom said.

Mai Li looked at her, surprised then nodded slowly. “In the end, I’ll be the same person I started as. Theoretically.” She paused a long time until she finally said, “And I’ll get to watch every step of the way.”

Image: http://www.teachwithmovies.org/guides/charly-DVDcover.jpg