11. Good Aim

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Chapter Eleven

  It took three hours for 12z to understand that you could just as easily slide the pieces back together again. During those three hours, I got mocked by the girl acting like a six-year-old, scolded by Doctor Opus for entering her room without his consent, and dumped with a ton of puzzles for her to do again.

  And after three hours of all that, I was finally content with how she fluidly took them apart then put them back together again. I think 12z hated me for it in the beginning, but as I was leaving she was smiling at me.

  "Bye, doctor," she said. I turned around to look at her. She was waving at me and smiling so big her eyes shut.

  I thought about correcting her. I wasn't exactly a doctor. And I for sure wasn't her doctor. Mr. Opus would be very upset if he heard her call me a doctor.

  I didn't care what he thought. I did, however, care what she thought. What if she turned on the doctors? If she called me a doctor, then I would be roped in the "doctor" category.

  "Call me Mr. M," I told her. I didn't think it would be a good idea to have her call me by my full name. She had trouble saying words without pausing as it is.

  I wonder why that was. Maybe I could ask the man in charge of her. He would know. But would he let me know? Willingly?

  "Mister... M? Not doctor?"

  I shook my head. "They don't call me doctor around here. I'm just Mr. M who makes the puzzles."

  Her eyes shined. "Yes. Good puzzles. Fun. I like."

  A small smile pulled its way onto my lips. It was a good thing she enjoyed doing them. I would think she liked them less –having to do them all over again multiple times for three hours. Yet, here she was looking pleased.

  It was nice.

:::

  I was home early today. I didn't have any more appointments and Supervisor A thought I deserved to "go home and get some rest" for sitting beside a childish girl for hours.

  Who knew she could behave in such a way? It was very unbecoming of such a bright girl.

  Anyway, I disagreed with my supervisor. I would have loved to stay. Whether it be with 12z or any other one of my patients. I felt a new sense of purpose as she slowly –I mean, slowly– figured out that she could put them back together.

  Instead of going back to the apartment, I pulled up into Jazzy's high school parking lot and waited for a few minutes until school was let out. This was probably the only good thing about being let off work early. More time to spend with my little sister.

  When the sea of kids flooded outside of the school door, I was standing outside of my vehicle. If I didn't catch her, she would probably take the bus. It would be a waste of a trip for her to just skim over me and go on the bus anyway.

  Found her. Her blonde hair sticking out in a group of brunettes. I squinted to make sure I wasn't missing somebody. They were, in fact, all brunettes. Her twin braids were the only reason I could tell it was her head and not some other blonde girl.

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