Kidnapping on Kaua'i (featured by Wattpad 2014)

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Tuesday

I have to stay home from school today to see Dr. Barron. I've never liked being at the doctor's office. It's not Dr. Barron's fault-he's nice-but I hate the way all the little rooms smell like medicine, and the way I can hear other patients coughing through the thin walls. Most of all, I hate the cheesy posters. I swear, the same faded poster of a hot air balloon has been up on the ceiling since I was an infant. I don't know how my doctor can look at it every day and still be so cheerful.

Tutu was pacing back and forth while I sat on the table covered with wax paper and waited. Dr. Barron had called early this morning and said he wanted to see me right away about the results of my blood work taken last Friday, after I'd jumped in the water with the shark. "The results were unusual", was all he would say. The space he'd left for imagination was big enough to hold all sorts of frightening scenarios.

My mind flashed to my biological parents. What if I had some kind of congenital disease I didn't know about? What if I needed a donor? Would Tutu get in touch with them?

My worry streak was broken when the door opened and Dr. Barron entered. "How's my little shark ninja?" he said, greeting me. I ducked my head and blushed.

"Aloha, doctor," Tutu said, reaching for his hand. She came across as relaxed and friendly, but I knew she was dying to ask what was wrong.

"Aloha. Great to see both of you again. Thanks for coming in so quickly." The doctor sat down on a wheeled stool and consulted my medical record. I watched his hands; they were soft and clean looking. He looked up at me over the rim of his glasses. "I have to ask you a few questions, Lani. Have you done any traveling outside of Hawai'i lately?"

"No."

"What about your diet? Have you eaten anything unusual?"

I was about to bring up the fruit when Tutu answered for me. "Lani has a pretty normal diet for a kid. We try to eat healthy and organic, but she also eats chips and drinks soda."

"So, no relatives have brought you any food from their travels recently?" the doctor continued.

"No," Tutu answered.

"Have you been experiencing any allergic effects: trouble breathing, rashes, headaches, nausea or dizziness?"

"I have had a few headaches lately," I said.

"Is that unusual?"

I nodded.

"Any muscle twitching or tremors?"

"No."

"Okay. Why don't you hop off the table and walk a straight line for me."

My paper gown crinkled as I slid off the bed. I held the back of the gown together with my hands as I walked to the other side of the small room. Tutu kneaded her hands together while she watched me.

Next, the doctor tapped on my knees, used his stethoscope to listen to my lungs, flashed a bunch of lights in my eyes and asked me to hold my palms out flat.

"Has anyone else in the family been ill?" he asked.

"Not as far as I know," Tutu said.

I tried hard to think of what all these questions might mean as he scribbled on his file. A minute went by and I couldn't stand not knowing anymore. "Am I gonna make it, doc?" I asked. I tried to sound confident, but my voice came out in a squeak.

Dr. Barron pulled off his glasses and his eyes crinkled at me as he smiled. "Of course, Lani. Sorry to worry you. I called you in here because your blood test results showed you have relatively high levels of glyphosate in your bloodstream. We also found another chemical that we were unable to identify."

"You found what?" I asked.

"Glyphosate is a common ingredient in certain pesticides. It can be dangerous if too much is ingested. If you'll allow me to draw some blood again, I'd like to recheck the results. The good news is, you aren't showing any demonstrable signs of pesticide poisoning outside of an occasional headache, which could be attributed to many causes. If you'd been having, for example, tremors, rashes or hallucinations we'd have to consider gastric lavage and some other treatments."

"What's gastric lavage?" Tutu asked.

"Stomach pumping."

"Gross!" I said. I'd been considering telling the doctor about my weird visions-or were they hallucinations?-but now I decided to keep my mouth shut. I definitely didn't want to have my stomach pumped.

"But where could Lani have eaten so much of this chemical?" Tutu asked.

"I'm not sure," Dr. Barron answered. "This is the highest level of glyphosate that I've seen in a blood test, but it's far from the first. I don't have to tell you about the problems we have here on Kaua'i when it comes to pesticides. Pesticide spraying is done without any buffer zones to public areas, schools or waterways, so she could have been dosed with it at school, or, really, anywhere else on the island. Hopefully, it's a one time thing."

On the way out of the office, we bumped into Chad and his father. "Hi Chad!" I said. "I was just thinking about you. What are you doing here?"

He hung his head. "I'm sorry about what I did on Monday, Lani."

"I've already forgotten about it," I lied. Actually, I'll never forget about it, but I wanted to make him feel better.

Dr. Verbeeck put his hand on Chad's shoulder. "As you know, my son was acting strangely yesterday. I was so worried about him, I took him to the doctor and asked them to do some rush blood tests. It turns out, Chad had high levels of pesticide in his bloodstream."

Tutu looked at him in amazement. "Lani just got the same results."

"Did you have to have your stomach pumped?" I whispered to Chad.

He shook his head. "No, but that would be awesome!"

"Let's get together and talk about this later," Tutu said to Dr. Verbeeck. "I want to figure out what happened to the children."

"I'll give you a call straight away."

Back in the car, Tutu clicked her tongue at the crowd of hippies wandering along Hanalei's Main Street. "It's like an invasion," she said. "I've never seen this many."

I hadn't either, and I stared out the window at them. They came in many races and sizes, but they were immediately recognizable as a group; all were unrushed and unbrushed, with multicolored backpacks and friendly, open expressions. They walked in pairs on the side of the road, heading west.

"Rita's right," Tutu said, "There's too many of them here for that Gathering, or whatever it is they call it. They're all congregating in Kalaulau Valley and then coming into town to do Lord only knows what. I've heard that crime is up. The sheriff ought to do something."

Back at home, she fixed me some soup, but I wasn't hungry. The newspaper was open on the kitchen table, and I saw an article with a photo of Sanbello's private jet, with Gerry and another Sanbello executive standing in front of it. The headline read, "Sanbello Execs Jet to International Convention on Agriculture." I was glad to see Gerry would be off the island for a while. My mind turned to the field. I thought about the trailer and all the cameras posted on mounts; they were dead giveaways of seed corporation activity. I don't know why I hadn't realized that before. I recalled how silent the field was, without birds or insects noises, and how the dirt was pale, without any signs of weeds-all signs of death by chemical pesticides. Then, I remembered Chad's happy face as juice dripped down his chin while he ate the fruit, and I sickened with guilt as I realized he was being poisoned.

My mind shifted to the dream I'd had last night. I'd believed it was real at the time, but now I knew it was just a pesticide induced hallucination. I vowed never to return to the field or eat the fruit again; I needed to get my mind and my life straight.