Opportunistic

Stranded in Parallel [Chapter 7]

“Natalie. Nat,” Mom said from the doorway of my bedroom, followed by a light knocking.

I jerked up from my bed and looked around. The morning light was coming in through the window. Mom was leaning in the doorway, half propped open. I glanced at the notebook on the nightstand, still in the same place as I left it before I went to sleep.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to surprise you,” Mom apologized with a shake of her head. “The offer still stands if you want to go out on the town today. I don’t want to rush you or anything, but it will be cooler if we head out before it hits noon. If you still want to go, that is.”

I bit my lip, glancing at the notebook, then at the window. I desperately wanted to look at the lined pages to see if anything had changed. I wanted to respond. Mom’s eyes hadn’t left my face, waiting for an answer. I offered the magical words that got me out of most situations.

“Sorry, I don’t feel good today,” I murmured, blinking slowly back at her.

Mom’s eyes sank to the ground and she shuffled in. “Darn. Darn it for sure. We had a good streak there, with the treatments helping, you know. What’s got you? Chills, or is it in your chest this time?” She asked, head shaking.

I made eye contact with her as she felt my forehead with the back of her hand. I let her do her thing as she usually did. “Well, you don’t feel warm, I guess. I think we packed the thermometer in somewhere, but I’d have to dig it out.”

She sat down on the edge of the bed, shaking her head some more. “Look at me,” she sighed wistfully. “There I was, coming in straight after work, hugging on you without even thinking to wash my hands. And after telling you to wear a mask out any everything. I should be taking my own steps to make sure I don’t bring those types of germs home. I should mask up at work. Darn. Let me look around to see what meds we have.”

“Mom,” I huffed. I almost wanted to tell her that I actually wasn’t sick, but surely it only would have seemed like I was appeasing her.

She pushed herself up off the bed. “Get some more sleep, dear. I’m sorry. I’ll look around in the rest of the boxes for your meds. Which should have been unpacked by now, seriously. I’ll let you know if and when I pop out to go to the drugstore.”

I slumped back against the wall as Mom shut the bedroom door behind her. I couldn’t help but look at my lap. At some point I would have gotten actually sick, and we would have gone through the same song and dance. My eyes trailed off to the nightstand and the notebook. My wish to get time alone with it had been granted.

My heart tightened as my eyes ran across the fresh words on the pages.

You have no right to ask any such questions. No right to feign confusion. This is not your book of notes. If you don’t quit this vandalism, I will bring this matter to the headmaster.

I read them, then reread them. I ran my fingers over the ink, but it didn’t feel different than the rest of the paper. I grabbed up the pencil from the nightstand and immediately pressed it to the paper below the previous message.

“My name is Natalie Howakahn. I am 14 years old. I am currently living in Grand Forks, North Dakota. This is a notebook found on the shelf in a closet in an apartment that I just moved into. It has a black and white cover, and was covered in dust when I found it up there in the closet. On the pages before this one, there are many drawings and—“

A knock on my door jerked me out of my exposition to the notebook paper. I tossed the journal and pencil to my side. Another knock came, followed by the door unlatching.

“I’ve got some food, Nat,” Mom whispered in. “And I found some cough drops if you want them. Also a newish bottle of aspirins.”

She was wearing her greenish paper mask, carrying a plate of toast and a glass of water. I could hear a bottle of pills rattling in her pocket.

“I’m fine,” I hissed at her, pulling the blanket up over my lap and secretly sliding the notebook further away from me.

Mom set the cup on the nightstand, followed by the plate by my side on the bed. She noisily set down the white bottle of pills by the water. “If you’re feeling good enough to make it down the stairs, you’re free to make anything you’d like. But this should be enough for now, right? Take one of these vitamins, too. I know it says they’re past their expiration date, but the pharmacist at work says that they aren’t bad, just less… effective.”

I turned my head away from her and nodded, just hoping to get her to leave. From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of fresh letters being traced across the page of the notebook.

My spit caught in my throat causing me to cough suddenly. Mom adjusted her mask before patting me on the back. “Just as I thought.”

I huffed loudly, clearing my throat and hoping that she wouldn’t notice the notebook. “I’m fine. Just worry about yourself.”

Mom sighed and stood up. “It’s my job as a mom to look out for you. That being said, I’m going to pop out to the store in a bit. We need more cleaning supplies. Who knows what germs got left here from the previous tenants?”

I stared down at the plate of toast and dragged my finger across the edge of the dish. “That’s fine. I’ll be fine here.”

“I’ll be back before noon.”

As soon as the door was shut, I took up the notebook in my hands to study the fresh words.

You’re real…………………………………………….. If you’re still here in three hours, I wish to trade more words with you.