My Mother Got Married by Barbara Park Page B

that now.
    Anyway, it finally got to be dinnertime and I was forced to leave. Mrs. Oates invited me to stay, but she was having vegetable casserole. I had it once. It made me spit up.
    By the time I walked the two blocks to my house that night, I was soaked and shivering. Also, my underwear was blue from my wet jeans.
    Lydia was off the phone and back in the bathroom. Ben made her get out so I could take a hot bath. When she walked past, I gave her a dirty look.
    “Thanks for staying on the phone all night,” I growled.
    Lydia looked at me and gasped.
    “Oh wow! That reminds me. I haven’t called Amanda back yet!”
    I wore the underwear in the tub, but the blue never came out.
    T HE NEXT week I came down with the flu. I got it from the rain. My mother said you can’t catch the flu from the rain but I did.
    Ben and Lydia caught it first. I don’t know where they got theirs, but they both got sick on Sunday. I didn’t get sick until Wednesday. By then, all of my mother’s sympathy had already been used up.
    “You don’t have a temperature,” she informed me Wednesday morning when I said I didn’t feel good.
    “I don’t care. I’m still sick,” I told her.
    She checked the thermometer again. “Why don’t you go to school and give it a chance? See how you feel at lunchtime,” she suggested.
    I shook my head. “I can’t. I’ll be dead by lunchtime.”
    This time she frowned. “I want you to give it a try, Charlie. I’ve got to go into the office today and Ben’s got his hands full with Lydia. Two sickies is just about all this family can handle.”
    “Oh, excuse me,” I snapped. “Next time I’ll wait my turn so I won’t inconvenience anyone.”
    “Don’t be so dramatic,” Mom continued. “You know how you are. Sometimes after you get moving around a little bit, you start feeling better. If you don’t, you can call me at work. You know the number of the real estate office, right? If you call, I’ll come get you. I promise.”
    There was no sense arguing. Her mind was made up. I was going to school and that was that.
    It turned out just like I knew it would. By eleven o’clock my head was down on my desk. By eleven fifteen, I was scouting the room for emergency places to puke.
    Suddenly I shot my hand into the air. My stomach told me to.
    “I need to go to the nurse’s office!” I blurted out from the back of the room.
    My teacher looked up from her desk.
    “Now!” I added urgently.
    Mrs. Berkie got the message. She sprang up from her seat, dashed down my aisle, and slapped a hall pass into my hand.
    “Run like the wind,” she told me.
    Out in the hall I could smell the food from the cafeteria. Beef and bean burritos. I put my hand over my mouth and started booking down the hall.
    By the time I hit Nurse Cook’s office I was almost out of breath. I didn’t even wait for her to ask what was wrong. I just flopped down on her cot and rolled up into a little ball.
    She stared at me a moment, but I can’t really say she looked surprised. I have a feeling that on beef and bean burrito day, scenes like this are pretty common.
    She covered me with a blanket and put her hand on my forehead. “Not feeling too good, huh?” she asked.
    “Your name?”
    I moaned and answered at the same time.
    “Stay here. I need to go get your emergency card,” she said. “Be back in a minute.”
    A minute? Oh no! I couldn’t last a minute! Deep breaths, I ordered. Lots of deep breaths and the sick feeling will go away. In and out … in and out … in and … up. It came up on breath number three. I barely had time to grab the trash can.
    The nurse came back before I was finished. She stopped in the doorway and made a face. Personally, I think that this was very unprofessional.
    “Are you okay?” she asked at last.
    Oh, yes. I’m fine, I thought. I love barfing into school trash cans. It’s a hobby of mine.
    But instead of saying anything, I just nodded.
    Nurse Cook gave me a wet paper towel and