Treading Water Read Online Free Page B

age.
    â€œLook at this, look at this! I’m practicing for a campout with my dad,” David says. He pulls a small flashlight from his pocket, turns it on, and pretends to lick it.
    â€œWhat is that supposed to be?” I ask.
    â€œYes, what is that?” Sunita asks.
    â€œI’m having a light snack! Get it?” David says. He laughs so hard he tips over.
    We groan. Even Josh.
    We hear a key in the door. Dr. Gabe walks in with a stack of files. Zoe is up in an instant and across the floor.
    â€œNeed help?” she asks. Zoe rests one hand on Dr. Gabe’s arm.
    â€œHi Zoe, no thanks. I’ve got it,” he replies. He smiles and nods in our direction. “Hi kids, Hey, J.J. I have a few cases to go over with you before I finish these files.”
    J. J. MacKenzie is Dr. Mac’s real name.
    She says, “I’ve just begun with our hardy volunteers. Should be about ten minutes. Then I can take a look.”
    He nods and smiles at Dr. Mac. He smiles down at Zoe. Zoe smiles, pivots, and returns to her seat with a goofy expression on her face. I think Zoe imagines that Dr. Gabe treats her special. But actually, cute Dr. Gabe treats everyone like they’re special. Little kids, old folks, all of us, and of course, all the animals. Sometimes I get frustrated with people and the way they can be with animals. Dr. Gabe is patient and understanding. He shows people how to care for animals. I’m not sure that even if I wanted to be a vet I could be one. I get mad too fast. My parents are always trying to show me how to handle myself in these situations. And Dr. Mac has reminded me more than once to chill out. But how do you do that when things—people—need fixing?
    Dr. Mac resumes our meeting. She makes checks on her clipboard as she talks. “So, gang, I have Maggie, Zoe, Brenna, Sunita, and Jules on cleaning crew for tomorrow. David and Josh have duties at the FFA horse-judging contest. Have a great time, you two. And tell us all about it next week. As for today, the exam rooms, surgery, and recovery rooms are cleaned and ready. We need only our usual quick clean of the waiting area. David and Zoe, could you water the plants? And Sunita, I could use you at the desk for about ten minutes. Josh and Jules, I have you down for glass cleaning. We have even more canine noseprints on the doors than usual. Brenna and Maggie, can you mop? We’ll all meet up in the recovery room for a duck exam. Brenna, do you or your parents have info to share with us about duckling health?”
    I whip out my paper. “Got it right here.”
    â€œPerfect,” Dr. Mac says. “I knew I could count on you.”
    We all get to work. I take a few pictures of everyone at their tasks. At one point, Maggie stops mopping and stares at me with her hands on her hips. I get the picture. Too much camera work, not enough mop work. I press the lens cap back onto my camera and grab my mop. We really are done fast. Fifteen minutes later, all of us—including Dr. Gabe—are gathered around the duck boxes.
    It is a terrible, sad sight. The little lone duckling is dead. It’s obvious even before Dr. Mac pulls out her stethoscope to check its vitals. The duckling is on its side. It’s still, legs curled up, webbed feet clawed. Her eyelids are half open. An animal that has died just looks like an empty place.
    I feel my temples throb. I am more than just sad. I am so angry. Furious, really. This didn’t need to happen. I take a picture.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Sunita cries.
    â€œI . . . I just wanted to document this,” I reply. Sunita’s eyes are wide and her mouth is open. She looks shocked, horrified. I horrified her.
    â€œI just don’t think it is right,” she says. “What will you do with that picture?”
    â€œJeez, Brenna,” David says, “Not cool.”
    â€œWell, I don’t know,” I say. I really don’t know.