High Hurdles Collection Two (6 page)

“Thanks.” DJ shivered again as she hung up the phone. She wrapped her arms around her middle.
If only I could get warm
. She never had taken her jacket off that morning, and she wished she'd brought gloves. DJ retrieved the rest of her books from her locker and went to tell the vice-principal, Ms. Benson, what was happening.

“You look like you should have stayed in bed today.” The woman smiled and raised a hand to DJ's forehead. “Good grief, child, you feel like you're freezing!”

DJ nodded. When she cleared her throat, she could finally speak. “All day.”

“Well, I'd bet my socks you're running a fever. Thanks for spreading more germs around this germ factory.”

“Sorry”

“I know. If all the kids had the perseverance you have, we probably wouldn't have room for them all. How's that horse of yours doing?”

DJ's head had begun to feel like miniature ponies were pounding around it in a circle. “Good. Shows will start in a month or so.”

“Why don't you go sit down in that chair before you fall down.”

“Thanks.” DJ did as suggested and tucked her cold feet up under her. With her hands in her armpits, she still shivered. Just as Joe walked in the door, Ms. Benson brought DJ a blanket.

“Bring this with you when you come back to school, and don't be in too much of a hurry. Get well.”

DJ nodded her gratitude and snuggled the blanket around her shoulders. While she was glad none of the kids were around to see her, she was too cold to care if they did.

“That bad, huh?” Joe handed her into the Explorer, where he had left the engine running and the heater on full blast. “I knew I should have insisted you stay home this morning.”

“Don't tell me how bad I look, please.” DJ poked only her nose out from the blanket. An onset of coughing felt like it tore the lining right off her throat.

“Since the boys have strep, maybe we should take you right to the doctor.”

“Please, Joe, I just want to go home to bed.”

“I have to warn you, Bobby and Billy are better. They've been on the antibiotic twenty-four hours now, and little kids bounce back quickly.”

DJ groaned. “Maybe I should just go home to my own house.”

“All by yourself? Not on your life.”

Hours later when she woke up, she felt even worse, if that was possible. She drank the hot lemonade Joe brought her, sucked on some throat lozenges, and conked out again. When she woke again, her bed was sweat soaked and so was she. But in spite of all the sweat, DJ couldn't quit shaking. She put on dry pajamas and crawled back under the covers after Joe and Gran changed the bed.

“I'm calling the doctor.” Gran stuck a thermometer under DJ's tongue.

DJ shook her head. When she tried to speak around the thing in her mouth, Gran just held up a hand.

“Don't bother to argue. Dr. Jaspers most likely won't want you in his office anyway. If they need a throat culture, I know how to do that. Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.” Gran pointed the flashlight into DJ's mouth. “Yuck. He said that both strep throat and the chest flu are going around, plus a nasty combination of both.”

The bed tap-danced on the floor, DJ shook so hard. She could hear the boys giggling in their room. If only she got over this as fast as they did. If she didn't die first.

Gran returned in a few minutes. “Amazing, I got right through. Probably because he was ready to go out the door.” She sat down on the bed. “Anyway, Joe just went to pick up a prescription and some throat swabs. The doctor said this sounds like what everyone else has, only you got the double whammy.”

Gran turned her head away to cough into her hand.

“Hope you told him you've got it, too.” DJ's head spun just from talking.

“Not yet, I don't. Just a cold so far and not bad at that. I'm taking care of myself.” Gran opened a bottle of pills. “Here, this will help get your temp down.”

DJ tried to swallow them, but they stuck at the back of her tongue. She gagged and choked, finally spitting them out again. The room twirled, and Gran turned into two. DJ coughed till it felt like her lungs might come flying out of her mouth.

Gran shook her head. “Well, I haven't had to crush tablets in sugar for you in a long time, but if that's what it takes to get them down, so be it.” She handed DJ a juice bar. “Eat this.”

Sick as she was, DJ recognized an order when she heard one. Bites of the frozen bar slid past the sore throat amazingly well.

“Drink.”

DJ's eyelids had started to close already but flew open at Gran's General Crowder voice. DJ drank, swallowed the sugar mixture from a spoon, then drank again.

She was nearly asleep when Joe returned. Gran sat on the edge of the bed. “Here are the antibiotics. Good thing he put them in small capsules. If you drink plenty of water with them, they should go down.”

“Gran, I can't. I'm so dizzy.” DJ tried blinking, but the room tilted, and Gran looked to be sliding off the bed.

“Keep your eyes closed.” Gran put the pill in DJ's hand, then held her head while she drank. The glass clinked against her teeth when a shudder hit her.

“Good girl, now I'll leave you alone.”

DJ mumbled something, but even she wasn't sure what.

“What day is it?”

“Wednesday afternoon.” Joe sat down beside her.

“What happened to Tuesday?”

“We skipped it.” Joe didn't crack a smile.

“Where's Gran?”

“In bed.”

“Same stuff?”

“Hope not. But I sent her to bed so it wouldn't get worse.” He handed her a glass with a straw that bent. When she slid up against the headboard, the room stayed level. “Drink.”

She did. He handed her another pill. She swallowed it and drank again. “Thanks, Dr. Joe.”

Suddenly, DJ's eyes flew wide open. “Wednesday afternoon! I had classes to teach and—”

“Too bad. Bridget took them. I told her you would probably be out all week.”

“All week!”

Joe looked around the room. “We got a parrot in here somewhere?” He patted her hand. “Just go back to sleep and get better. The Bs are missing you.”

“Yeah, right. They started all this.” DJ scooted back down under the covers and rolled over on her side. “It'll take me a week just to catch up on all my homework.”

“You hungry?”

DJ thought a minute. “No.”

“Okay, call me if you need anything. I'll be taking the boys up to the Academy with me to feed the horses.”

His last remark sounded like he stood a mile away.

Later that evening, Joe came to her door. “You feel up to talking with Amy? She's called every day.”

DJ raised up on her elbows. Her window showed only darkness outside. She blinked. “I guess so.” Now she sounded like a frog who croaked tenor. After she'd flipped on to her back, Joe handed her the portable phone. “Hi.”

“Hope you look better than you sound.”

“I guess. Haven't seen a mirror.” DJ took the glass of water from her nightstand and sucked on the straw.

“You know half the school is out with strep or the flu? They're calling it an epidemic.”

“Uh-huh.” DJ rubbed her eyes. She could hear the boys in the kitchen with Joe, asking him their standard million questions.

“You want me to bring you your homework?”

“I guess.”
Who cares about homework? Living is the issue
.

“So you feel any better?”

“Better than what? All I do is sleep.”

“You'll get better.”

DJ tried to think of something to say, but words and ideas failed to creep out of the fog in her head.

“Maybe I should call back tomorrow.”

“ 'Kay.” DJ clicked off the phone. She drank again and decided she needed to use the bathroom. She sat up, and the room spun. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. The room tilted. She stood up. The floor rushed up to meet her. Getting from the floor to the bathroom and back to bed would equal about a fifty-mile run—in the rain—through a flood. DJ laid her cheek against the cool hardwood floor. Her knee hurt.

“My goodness, what happened?” Gran barged through the bedroom door, the boys right on her heels.

DJ straightened her arms and tried to push herself up. Before she could do any more, Joe joined the circus and scooped her up. When he started to put her back in bed, she shook her head and pointed to the bathroom.

“I'll carry you in there, and Gran will help you.” His gentle voice tickled her ear.

How freaky can I get? I can't even walk across the room
. DJ forced her fingers to let go of Joe's arm when he set her down on the cold bathroom floor. When Gran had her arm around DJ's waist, Joe left the room. “Now that I'm standing, it's not so bad.” DJ sucked in a deep breath and prayed the room would stand still. It did.

“It's changing altitudes that make things spin.”

“You don't sound so hot yourself.”

“The rest helped. And Joe is pretty much taking care of things, especially the boys. If only the rest of us bounced back like they do.”

“If only they'd kept their germs to themselves.”

“Their father and mother taught them to share.”

DJ shook her head. “Bad one, Gran.”

By the time she was helped back into bed, given more pills, forced to drink some chicken soup and cough hard, DJ felt like she'd run that fifty miles after all.

“Why make me cough like that?” she groaned.

“So your lungs stay clear. All you need is a bout with pneumonia.” Gran rubbed DJ's back now instead of just thumping on it.

“So I should thank you, huh?”

“I know you do, darlin'. It's just that right now, anything feels uncomfortable.”

“You think I'll be able to take a shower in the morning and wash my hair?” DJ ran her fingers through the sticky mass.

“We'll see.” Gran touched a finger to the tip of DJ's nose. “That means you're feeling better.”

“No, just feeling too grossed out to stand myself as is.”