After three hours, the girl is seen
by a physician’s assistant. He’s skinny
and very young. His eyes are blood
shot. They’re understaffed, he apolo
gizes; he’s been on duty since yester
day. Gretyl lists her symptoms: bloat
ing, nausea. Diarrhea. Pains through
the torso.
The P.A. asks if she ever goes out
side barefoot.
The mother nods.
Does she go places children gather,
like school?
The mother affirms.
The P.A. nods knowingly.
Common grossness, he says. They
shouldn’t feel ashamed.
Of what? Gretyl asks.
Worms, the P.A. says.
Might it be her appendix? Gretyl
asks calmly. Could they check?
The P.A. peers out at the sixty
coughing people, some with purple
rashes. It’s helminths, he says. He pre
scribes three days of Biltricide. At first
she’ll feel worse, he sings gaily, but then
she’ll be right as rain!- At nine, Hansa calls. She informs
their mother that she believes Gre
tyl’s appendix is infected. If she’s not
taken to the E.R. tonight, Hansa says,
she could die. Hansa’s own appendix
“If my client is guilty of anything, it’s loving tax evasion too much.”• •
Does she know how expensive the
E.R. is?
Gretyl says she’s not sure.
The father asks, Does your stomach
hurt?
Gretyl nods.
Then take Tylenol.
Hans, the mother says. Check her
temperature.
They check. A hundred and one, the
father says. Just a flu.
Don’t you think, Gretyl says, it might
be my appendix?
Listen, he says. Appendicitis is rare.
If you need the E.R., we’ll take you. But
you barely have a fever. Eat a Tylenol.- At eleven, Grethilda dons a negligee,
slides into bed, and wakes her husband.
At 3 a.m., Hans drives to Sacramento.
He’ll deadhead to Dallas. At four, it
snows. The cat wanders into the play
house under the willow, in which Gretyl
has built a cave of wool blankets.
S
uch pain fills Gretyl’s torso that she
can barely walk. But she slowly dresses
for school, cleans the kitchen, feeds the
fire, and puts kibble in the playhouse.
She woke extra early but misses the bus.
At the bottom of the road stands an army
of whitehelmeted trees. Gretyl feels
amazed by their beauty. She takes small,
painful steps up the slippery hill. Falls
and falls again. A car pushes through the
white veil—a station wagon. Her grand
mother peered out her kitchen window
and saw Gretyl. She picks her up. An
other breakin, the grandmother says.
Robbers got the TV. Neighbors don’t
know each other anymore, and hunters
roam the woods.
Gretyl mentions that Hansa believes
she has appendicitis, but that their par
ents disagree.
Her grandmother turns to her—
they’re at the school now—and Gretyl
sees that her blue eyes are filmy. Her
hand covers Gretyl’s. It’s cold.
Your parents are your parents, she says
slowly. They get angry when I meddle.
I hope you feel better. Have a good day
at school!During classes, Gretyl’s body curls
into a ball. She’s sent to the nurse.
You again? the nurse says.Gretyl admits that her stomach hurts.
She suggests appendicitis.
The nurse measures blood pressure.
Checks tonsils.
She says, Hurts where?
Gretyl points.
Honey, the nurse says. With appen
dicitis it only hurts here. She pokes Gre
tyl’s lowerright gut. Gretyl gasps.- As she climbs the hill home, her
torso’s in agony, she’s dizzy, but, none
theless, when she sees whitetopped
meadows shining in cold sun, goldlit
green pines swaying, she’s amazed.
When she reaches her yard, she’s trem
bling. She pours all the kibble she has
left into the cat bowl.
Her mother snores on the couch.
Mom, she says. I’m sorry to bother
you, but I think I need to go to the
E.R. Can you take me?
The mother checks Gretyl’s tem
perature: 101.5.
She sighs.
We’ll go, she says, to the clinic.
The nearest city is dotted with crum
bling foundries, abandoned mills, pawn
shops, XXXvideo stores, and record
stores. Sixty people cough and wheeze
inside the clinic’s tiny waiting room.
THENEWYORKER,NOVEMBER16, 2020 53