The Phantom Limb Read Online Free Page B

of weird, isn’t she?” Isaac said verysoftly. “What does all that mean, anyway? EEG and MRI?”
    â€œThey’re different tests that measure brain activity,” Vera replied. “But you know, I can’t figure out why this hospital came so highly recommended. Dr. Ciano is so
peculiar.
She makes me uneasy. I wonder what she’s telling them to put into these IVs.” She yawned. “I’m feeling tired again. I might just close my eyes for a second,” she said, her voice shaky. She quickly drifted off to sleep.
    Isaac stayed with her while she slept. As long as he was at the hospital he could use it as an excuse to skip school. Which was worse? The hospital or school? It was hard to choose.
    Isaac reached into his backpack and pulled out his zombie book. It was a relief to concentrate on something else.
    A couple of hours later, the door opened. Another patient was wheeled into the room. She had short gray hair and a look of authority about her, despite being a patient. Isaac hated that she was there. And the commotion woke Vera, who looked surprised at first. After a moment she pulled herself together and greeted her new roommate warmly.
    â€œHi, I’m Vera, and this is my son, Isaac.”
    â€œEsther Kaplan. Nice to meet you both.”
    Candi entered the room and attached the new patient’s IV bag to the permanent pole. “I’m sure you two will get along very well,” she said. “Vera’s a pianist. And you?”
    â€œI’m a doctor,” Esther told her. Then she paused. “You look familiar. Have you worked at other hospitals?”
    â€œA lot of people say that. I just have one of those faces,” Candi said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to see to some other patients.” She smiled at them all as she left the room.
    â€œSo you’re a doctor?” Vera said.
    â€œWell, used to be. Retired now,” Esther said. “I’m sure I’ve seen that nurse somewhere …”
    â€œMaybe here in the hospital,” Vera suggested.
    â€œNo, I don’t think so,” Esther said. “Oh, I don’t know.”
    Isaac was relieved to finally leave the hospital. While he was riding to school on his bike, all of his worries came to a head: school and the Fitzpatrick twins, his mother’s illness, Grandpa and that box. The thoughts sat in his stomach like a lump of lead. He decided he couldn’t face school, so he headed home.
    At home, he thought about the mirror box. What would happen the next time he put his arms in? He was scared … but he was more curious than anything. He reasoned that since it was now the middle of the day—and not the middle of the night—he could experiment with it again. He suddenly felt wide awake and alert. Anything that happened now had to be real, not the result of fatigue or his imagination.
    Isaac remembered the way the hand in the mirror had shown him the woven smiley face and then had waved at him.
Was
it mocking him, just like the twins? Or was it trying to tell him something?
    His heart began to speed up as he ascended the stairs and went into his room. He was hoping more than anything that the hand in the mirror wasn’t real. He had too many things to worry about already—he didn’t need to add “menacing hand” to the list.
    Isaac stood in front of his closet door. His hand moved to the doorknob, then pulled back. He turned and prepared to walk away. He wasn’t ready to risk putting his hands inside that thing again. But something urged him on, some nagging need to figure out what was happening. He turned back and made himself open the door.
    There was the box, right where he had left it … except that the side with the holes was facing to the right. Was that how he had put it in there? He thought that the holes had been facing toward the door. He wasn’t sure. Tentatively, he reached into the closet and pulled