I looked around the plaster room trying to figure out what was going to happen. The room wasn't very big. There was a counter with a sink, like in our kitchen. And right in the middle of the room was some kind of strange steel contraption with a rope hanging from a wheel on the ceiling.
In a minute Dr. Stewart was measuring me again and calling out funny numbers and names to Dr. Hubdu, who wrote everything down. The only words I got were iliac crest and body firm, whatever they meant. ť.
82
"Okay, Deenie," Mrs. Inverness said. "You can come off the table now."
Dr. Stewart sat down on a stool in front of the contraption with the ropes. He motioned to me and I walked over to him. He held up some funny looking thing and said, "This is a head halter." While he was talking he slipped it on me. It was made of two strips of white material and some string. One section of material fit under my chin and felt like a scarf was tied there. The other part fit around the back of my head and felt like I was wearing a head-band.
As soon as that was on me Dr. Stewart attached a little wooden bar to the rope coming from the ceiling and somehow he hooked my head-halter to that. I was sure he was going to pull on the rope and leave me hanging in mid-air but just as I was about to ask him what was going on he said, "We call this hanging the patient but you aren't really going to hang, because your feet won't leave the ground."
I was glad to hear that.
Mrs. Inverness said, "Hold onto the bar above your head, Deenie. With both hands please."
I reached up and grabbed hold of the bar.
"That's it," Mrs. Inverness said. "Very good. You hold that the whole time."
Dr. Hubdu was behind me adjusting another wooden bar which came just under my backside. Dr. Stewart told me to lean against it. I did but I guess I didn't do it the right way because Dr. Hubdu said, "Squat a little, please. Now just rest yourself against the bar as though you were sitting on it. That's better."Dr. Stewart said, "Lean forward a little. Good … just fine."
Mrs. Inverness ran a long piece of felt under my body stockings and down my back. Then Dr. Stewart tied a strip of adhesive around my waist and attached each end to the wooden bar I was resting my rear end against.
After that he stood up and opened a small package of rubber gloves. I watched as he pulled them on. While he was doing that Mrs. Inverness was busy at the sink in front of me. She was wetting strips of something. As soon as Dr. Stewart sat on his stool again, Mrs. Inverness handed him the wet strips and he began to wrap them around me. But after the first few he said, "I'm not happy with this plaster, Nurse. Give me another roll please." And he ripped off the strips.
As he waited for Mrs. Inverness to wet some more he told me, "When this dries it will become solid plaster. I have to wrap you tight in order to accentuate the hip line and chest. The brace will be made from this mold."
I didn't say anything.
Mrs. Inverness handed him some more strips and after he wrapped a couple of pieces around me he said, "That's much better." He wrapped me from my waist down to my hips and then from my waist up to my armpits. All this time Dr. Hubdu stood behind me and I could feel his breath on my neck. "Make sure her back is perfectly straight," Dr. Stewart told him.
"Yes sir," Dr. Hubdu answered. I got the feeling he was just learning about what was going on.
As Dr. Stewart wrapped me up he smoothed the plaster with his hands. I didn't like it at all when he had to smooth out the strips across my chest.
"Head up, Deenie," Dr. Stewart said.
"Watch a point in front of you," Mrs. Inverness suggested.
Now both doctors were pressing on me, one at my back, the other at my front and I tried hard to stare at the handle of the cabinet over the sink.
"Stay just like that," Dr. Stewart said, as he moved his hands faster. "We'll be finished in no time."
"There are still some creases in the back, sir," Dr. Hubdu said.
"Smooth them out," Dr. Stewart said. "We can't have any wrinkles."
I thought about telling Dr. Stewart that he was wrapping me too tight. That I really couldn't breathe anymore. But that's when he said, "Deenie's very cooperative, isn't she?"
And Dr. Hubdu told him, "She certainly is."
I knew Daddy would be proud to hear that so I didn't say anything about feeling like a mummy.
A second later Dr. Stewart ripped off his gloves and said, "That's the worst of it, Deenie. In a minute the mold will be hard and we'll cut you out of it."
"It's very tight," I said. "And it's starting to feel hot too."
"That's the chemical reaction. It's changing into hard plaster now."
"I'm glad I don't have to wear anything like this mold," I told him.
"Some scoliosis patients are still put into casts," Dr. Stewart said. "But your brace will be a lot different. You won't mind it at all once you're used to it."
Soon Mrs. Inverness tapped me and said, "It's hard, doctor."
Dr. Stewart felt me himself. "Good … " He whipped a ballpoint pen out of his pocket and drew little lines up and down my mold. Then he measured me again and Dr. Hubdu wrote everything down, just like before. "This will help the brace man," Dr. Stewart told me. "Okay, Deenie … I'm going to cut it off you now. My saw makes a lot of noise but you won't feel a thing."
His saw! I thought. He must be kidding!
But he wasn't. He had a regular power saw that made an awful noise and as he stood behind me running it along my back I was so scared that my teeth rattled. I tried hard not to move at all and prayed that Dr. Stewart wouldn't miss with his saw and slice me in half.
At last he turned it off. "Scissors please, Mrs. Inverness." A few seconds after that, he said, "Spreaders … " I didn't know what he was doing back there but he kept pulling at me. Finally he said, "There we go! Turn to the right, Deenie."
I did and I was out of the plaster mold. Dr. Stewart cut the tapes and took my head-halter off. I was free! That's when I looked down and discovered that I was wearing only one body stocking. Where was the other one? It must have stuck to the wet plaster and ripped right off. If they hadn't given me two of them I'd be naked! As it was I knew they could all see everything and I was so embarrassed I almost died. I tried covering my chest with my arms and bending over to hide my other half. I'm sure my face was purple and I felt like crying.
Mrs. Inverness handed me a wet cloth and said, "This will help wash the plaster off. You can go and change now."
I ran for the supply closet. I didn't even realize the plaster had dripped on my legs and feet until then. But I didn't care. All I wanted was to get dressed and out of that room.
That night I took my new nightie out of my bottom drawer and tried it on. I stood in front of the mirror and moved just enough to make it turn from pink to purple to lavender. Buddy Brader would never get to see it now and nobody would bring me pink roses either. I took the nightie off and packed it back in the Drummond's Department Store box.
I went to the phone and called Midge. Her line was busy so I tried Janet's number but that was busy too. They were probably talking to each other. I waited a few minutes before I dialed Midge again. The phone rang three times, then Midge answered.
"Hi … " I said, "it's me."
"Hi Deenie … me and Janet were just talking about you. How'd it go today?"
"I'm not having an operation." My voice was barely a whisper.
"You're not? How come?"
"I don't need one after all."
"Well, that's great news! Isn't it?"
"I suppose."
"You sound funny. Is anything wrong?"
"No … I'm fine. I just called to tell you since I'm not having an operation I'll return the nightie. Listen … I have to run now … bye." I hung up before Midge could say anything else.
I put the Drummond's box into a brown bag and carried it to school with me the next day. I knew it would be safe inside my locker. At lunch Janet said, "We're really glad you don't need an operation, Deenie."
&n
bsp; I nodded.
"Were they wrong about your spine?" Midge asked.
"Not exactly."
"But if it's crooked don't they have to do something?" Janet said.
"The doctors are trying to decide about that," I told them.
"Me and Midge think you should keep the nightie anyway. Your birthday's in January so it can be a birthday present instead."
"I really don't need it now," I said. "I'd rather return it … if you don't mind."
They looked at each other.
"It's okay with us," Midge said. "We just didn't want you to think you had to return it."
After school the three of us went to Drummond's. The same salesgirl was behind the counter. I handed her the box.
"She's not having her operation," Janet told her.
"So she doesn't need the nightie," Midge said.
"Well … aren't you lucky!" the salesgirl said to me, and she didn't even try to talk us into keeping the nightie or choosing something else in its place.
I tried to smile. I could tell that Janet and Midge knew something was wrong.
I stopped hanging around the cafeteria after lunch. I told Janet and Midge I had a lot of work to make up because I'd been absent so many times. As soon as I finished eating I went to the library where I sat with my books spread out on the table while I scribbled in my notebook or looked out the window.
One day, while I was sitting like that, somebody sneaked up from behind and covered my eyes with his hands.
"Guess who?" It was Buddy Brader. I'd know his voice anywhere.
"I give up," I said.
He took his hands away and leaned up against the table. "What're you doing in here, Deenie?"
"Make-up work," I told him.
"I came in to watch the fish." Mr. Balfour, our librarian, keeps a big tank of tropical fish on the table in the corner and a lot of kids do wander into the library to watch them.
"You know something?" Buddy said, "You didn't wave to me this morning."
"I didn't?" Buddy waves to me every day when we pass each other in the hall, on the way to our first-period classes. "I guess I didn't see you,'' I told him.
"You turned away when I was walking by."
"Well, I didn't mean to. I just have so many things on my mind."
"Yeah?"
"I mean it … really."
"Not that it matters … I only came in here to see the fish anyway." He started to walk across the room. Then he stopped and turned for a minute. "See you around," he said. He must think I don't like him anymore! I wish there was some way to let him know the truth.
All that week I kept hoping Dr. Kliner would call to say everyone had made a terrible mistake. That there's nothing wrong with me after all and that I definitely don't have scoliosis. Every time the phone rang I jumped but it was never Dr. Kliner. I touched my special place practically every night. It was the only way I could fall asleep and besides, it felt good.
We're starting a new program in gym. Once a month we're going to have a discussion group with Mrs. Rappoport. It sounds very interesting because Mrs. Rappoport asked us each to write down a question and drop it into a box on her desk. The question could be about anything, she said, especially anything we need to know about sex. She told us not to put our names on the paper. She doesn't want to know who's asking what. It's a good thing too, because I'd never have asked my question if I had to sign my name. I wrote:
Do normal people touch their bodies before they go to sleep and is it all right to do that?
On Tuesday, when we walked into the gym, Mrs. Rappoport told us to sit in a circle so we could talk easily. The first questions she discussed were all about menstruation. But I already knew most everything from my booklet. After that she said, "Okay, now I think we can move on to another subject. Here's an interesting question." She read it to us. "Do normal people touch their bodies before they go to sleep and is it all right to do that?"
I almost died! I glanced around, then smiled a little, because some of the other girls did, and hoped the expression on my face looked like I was trying to figure out who had asked such a thing.
Mrs. Rappoport said, "Can anyone help us with an answer?"
Susan Minton raised her hand.
"Yes, Susan … " Mrs. Rappoport said.
"I wasn't the one who wrote the question but I've heard that boys who touch themselves too much can go blind or get very bad pimples or their bodies can even grow deformed."
"Has anyone else heard that?" Mrs. Rappoport asked.
Five other girls raised their hands.
Could it possibly be true? I wondered. And if it was true about boys maybe it was about girls too. Maybe that's why my spine started growing crooked! Please God … don't let it be true, I prayed. I felt my face get hot and I had to go to the bathroom in the worst way but I didn't move a muscle. I hoped nobody could tell what I was thinking.
"Well … " Mrs. Rappoport said, "I can see you've got a lot of misinformation. Does anyone here know the word for stimulating our genitals? Because that's what we're talking about, you know."
It got very quiet in the gym. Nobody said anything for a long time. Then one girl spoke. "I think it's called masturbation."
"That's right," Mrs. Rappoport told us. "And it's not a word you should be afraid of. Let's all say it."
"Masturbation," we said together.
"Okay," Mrs. Rappoport said. "Now that you've said it let me try to explain. First of all, it's normal and harmless to masturbate."
"You mean for boys … " Susan Minton said.
"No, I mean for anyone … male or female," Mrs. Rappoport told us. "The myths that some of you have heard aren't true. Masturbation can't make you insane or deformed or even give you acne."
I wanted to take a deep breath when she said that but I didn't. 1 just gulped and looked at the floor.
"Does everybody masturbate?" Barbara Curtis asked.
"Not necessarily," Mrs. Rappoport said. "But it's very common for girls as well as boys, beginning with adolescence."
Any minute I thought Mrs. Rappoport would ask us to raise our hands if we masturbate and I wasn't sure if I'd be able to tell the truth. I never knew there was a name for what I do. I just thought it was my own special good feeling. Now I wonder if all my friends do it too?
But Mrs. Rappoport didn't ask us to tell her if we did or we didn't masturbate and I was glad. It's a very private subject. I wouldn't want to talk about it in front of the class. She said the important thing to remember is that it is normal and that it can't hurt us. "Nobody ever went crazy from masturbating but a lot of young people make themselves sick from worrying about it."
I couldn't help thinking about Buddy. Can he can get that special feeling too? I'd like to find out how much Buddy really knows about girls. I hardly know anything about boys. I think we should have discussions every week. They're more important than modern dance!
That afternoon, when I got home from school, there was a note from Ma, saying she was at the A&P with Aunt Rae. I put my books down, poured myself a glass of milk and was just about to sneak a few chocolate cookies from Ma's secret hiding place, when the phone rang.
"Hello … " I said.
"Mrs. Fenner?"
"No … she isn't in right now."
"This is Dr. Kliner's office calling … "
When I heard that my heart started to beat very fast. "Can I take a message?" I asked, then had to clear my throat.
"Deenie's Milwaukee Brace is ready and the doctor suggests an appointment on Friday at ten o'clock."
"This Friday?"
"That's right. And the doctor also suggests a change of clothes for Deenie … a size or two larger than her regular things."
"What for?" I asked.
"Because the brace takes up a certain amount of room and the girls can't get their regular clothes over it."
"Oh."
"Have Mrs. Fenner call if she can't make it on Friday. I'll be here until six."
"I'll tell h
er."
"Thank you," she sang and hung up, like she didn't even care about what she had just told me. I didn't say anything to Ma about the phone call when she got back from the market. I thought about not telling anyone. But I knew if we didn't show up on Friday Dr. Kliner's office would call to find out what happened and then Daddy and Ma would know about the first phone call and that would make me a liar. So I told them during supper. It was already past six-thirty.
"Friday's fine with me," Daddy said. "I'll ask Joe to work that morning."
I'd been chewing on the same piece of meat for a while but I couldn't swallow it so I held my napkin to my mouth and spit it out. "What's wrong?" Ma asked. "It was all fat," I told her. I drank some water, then took a big breath and spoke very fast. "I'm supposed to bring some other clothes to Dr. Kliner's office because mine won't fit over the brace." I looked at the food on my plate and moved some of it around with my fork.
"Don't worry about your clothes," Ma said. "You can get all new things … can't she, Frank?"
"Sure," Daddy said. "Never mind about that."
"But my jeans are all broken in the way I like them!"
"So you'll break in new jeans," Daddy said. "As many as you want."
"And I never even wore my two new skirts and sweaters. I was saving them for when it gets cold." I could feel my throat tightening.
"Maybe we can take them back and get the next size," Ma said.
"You already shortened the skirts," I said.
"So we won't return them," Daddy said. "It's not important."
"But it's a waste of money," I told him.
"Never mind," Daddy said again. "All that matters is getting you well."
"I am well!"
"You know what Daddy means," Ma said.
Later, Helen came to my room carrying a navy skirt and a striped shirt. "You can wear these tomorrow," she said. "They're bigger than your things and they'll probably look better on you anyway." She put them down on my bed. They still had tags on them.
Twelve
The brace looks like the one Dr. Kliner showed us three weeks ago. It's the ugliest thing I ever saw.I'm going to take it off as soon as I get home. I swear, I won't wear it. And nobody can make me. Not ever! I felt like telling that to Dr. Kliner but I didn't. I had to fight to keep from crying.