Book 2- 1966 (Michael Jackson)

Chapter 36- Doctor's Dis-Appointment

                                                  Chapter 36- Doctor's Dis-Appointment

                                                        Date: Tuesday, July 12, 1966

                                                                    Time: 10:12AM

                                                                     KAYLA'S POV

I fidgeted uncomfortably in the oversized pleather chair. I shot a glance of uneasiness over to Elijah. However, he was obviously not paying any mind to me. He was too preoccupied with doctors' forms and keeping Baby Ash's finger out of his nose.

I lay back in the hideous chair, dying of boredom. The doctor's office has to be the most uneventful, scarily quiet place on Earth. You could literally hear a pin drop in this seemingly endless space of clinical whiteness. Heck, you could hear a feather floating ever so gracefully, on the other side of the room!

I knew what I was about to do was not a particularly intelligent idea, but I chose to take the risk. As gradually as I could, I edged to the end of my chair. After about a minute, Elijah and I were nose-to-nose.

He looked up from the papers, the dullest expression I have ever seen on a living being. "Are you comfortable?"

Being the ever-so sarcastic person that I am, I replied with, "Not yet. Just a moment." I stood up from my seat and ambled over onto Elijah's lap. I stared back at him. "I'm better now."

Elijah narrowed his eyes at me, groaning under his eyes. "What do you want, Kayla?"

"I'm bored," I responded, my voice now above a whisper. A middle-aged woman in slacks looked in my direction, but I did not care. I wanted Elijah to listen to me. I wanted him to feel sorry for the desolate, deprived child that I am. I wanted him to pay attention to me like he had been doing to little Charles. I wanted him to cradle me and tell me that he loved me so dearly...

But, of course, that never happened. I guess that is what imagination is for, right?

Alright, I knew very well that I was purposely overreacting. However, I wanted to be the center of attnetion right now. That's what every kid wants, right?

Elijah absent-mindedly pushed me off of his lap. "You have your own seat," he told me, still infatuated with the papers. "You can go entertain yourself. I think there are books here."

Yes, there was a abundance of books here... and by books, I mean medical pamphlets. Medical pamphlets are boring. I need entertainment. I rolled my eyes as soon as my back faced Elijah.

Plopping myself back in the butt-imprinted seat, I stared at the ceiling. The walls were beginning to mold at the corners. Flies buzzed in and around the lights. Paint was chipping off of the walls. A thick mildew smell filled the room. When I lay my feet on the ground, the flimsy wooden floor creaked and moved.They call this place a clean environment?

For my own enjoyment, I pushed my feet up and down on the floor, creating a racket of a noise. The harder pressure I put on the floor, the louder it creaked. The louder it creaked, the wider my grin got. The wider my grin became, the more perturbed people grew around me.

I savored every moment of acting immature.

After a moment of creating my own beat, Elijah stared at me, with menacing eyes. "I swear, if you don't knock it off right now-"

"Mr. Wells?" A nurse chirped, her delicate voice disrupting the bicker. 

Elijah and I turned around, our faces now glowing with heat. "Y-yes," Elijah said meekly, his manliness going down by the millisecond. Despite my embarrassment, I smirked at him. Serves him right...

Of course, deep inside of me, I knew that was I was thinking was wrong. He was, after all, only trying to concentrate. I began to think of my selfishness as stupidity. Ha, and I wanted him to pay more attention to me? Come on, Kayla! We have a baby in the house now! Little Charles needed all of the love and attention he could possibly get.

However, I was too proud to show what I was feeling. I kept the smug look plastered to my face as I trotted into the doctor's room with the two boys. Once inside, I threw myself into another uncomfortable seat. In order to keep my lower half from falling asleep while sitting, I moved from one end of the seat to the other occasionally.

The doctor set a mini stack of papers onto his desk before beginning to ask questions. Still turned around, he began. "Date of birth...?"

As Elijah listed off facts about little Charles, I examined the doctor's office. The minty green background of the office, while fresh, made the room seem... mismatched, with all of the other items decorating the enclosure. Photos with festive orange frames cluttered the walls, creating an odd mixture to the spearmint green. Personal royal blue bottles dominated the chartreuse countertops. Without the tacky counters, the grey-tiled floors may have seemed fitting. However, with the incompatible color scheme, nothing fit anything.

When Elijah finished listing off information, the doctor turned around and took Baby Ash. In the split second of the doctor's arm hovering over me, I caught a glimpse of his nametag. Bryan D. Johnson, Ph. D.

Bryan took off with the baby and left the room, slamming the splintered hospital door shut. Upon the force of the shake, one of Bryan's blue glass bottles toppled over, making a loud crash-ing sound.

Elijah and I exchanged frightened glances. I knew what we were both thinking: it broke, didn't it? 

Taking a risk to see what happened, I tiptoed to the counter with the bottle. It didn't seem as though it broke. I breathed a sigh of relief.

However, my relief was merely transitory. As I took a closer examination at the bottle, I noticed a couple chips on the opening rim of the container. Fear instantly came crawling back.

I shot a scared expression at Elijah, who shrugged. "I dunno," he replied, not taking any blame. Of course, I hadn't expected him to in the first place. It wasn't his fault. The same went for me.

Desperate to make the accident look better on our parts, I softly extended my arm to drop the bottle in the trashcan next to the counter. However, as I was placing the bottle in, I heard a shrill scream.

Out of fear, I swung the bottle to the side of the trashcan. As the two made contact, I felt the bottle crack in several places.

After that, I gave up. I dropped the bottle in the trashcan. I was not going to put up ith anyone's or anything's messes, even if it was a tiny glass bottle. With my self-esteem ticking down by the second, I sauntered back to the seat next to Elijah.

About a minute or two after I seated myself a second time, the doctor came in, with a now-bawling Charles. He set the baby down for a moment to gather papers, and the baby went bolistic. He thrashed his arms around, screaming and wailing and having the worst of fits that you could ever imagine. In other words, I was in a mini-nightmare.

Elijah, now kicking into father mode, scrambled to his feet to pick Little Charles up. Obviously annoyed by the doctor, he gave a silent thank-you and promptly left the doctor's office. He silently paid the young woman at the front desk, grimacing when no one looked his way.

Once outside, he groaned. "That was... quite the visit. Wasn't it, Kayla?"

I shrugged, ambling to the parking lot. "It was better, on your part."

He gave me an are you crazy look, before shaking his head. "Never mind. Just get in the car. Remember, you still have practice today."

When he mentioned practice, I actually felt better. I could honestly say that practice was better than the doctor's office. Then I realized that I said something was better than putting up with the brother's mischief and Joseph's constant bicker.

It was at that very moment, that I made a mental note to never, under any circumstances, get sick in Gary, Indiana.