Free My Brother's Shadow by Tom Avery Page A

kept staring into that blue abyss but my door opened with a sigh and in came a large, singing woman.
    â€œWhen we’ve been there ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun,” she sang as she backed into the room, her backside wiggling.
    The bucket she wheeled in told me that she was a cleaner. She began another line, “We’ve no less days …,” then turned and saw me staring.
    â€œHello,” I said.
    â€œOh, sweetheart, hello,” she said, then straightaway, “I’ll get the nurse.”
    â€œWait!” I called out, but I was too slow; she was gone. I stared out the window again but the gull did not return.
    â€œShe can’t be awake, Janelli.” A voice drifted down the corridor towards me, followed by a tired and pregnant nurse.
    â€œHello,” I said again.
    â€œOh my word!” the nurse exclaimed, then quickly, “I’ll get the doctor.”
    My “Wait!” was too slow again and I watched both the cleaner and the nurse rush from the room.
    I had a little longer to stare out into the world this time, and I found myself thinking about the boy. He must, I thought, be just next door, or at least on the same ward. With this thought I decided not to wait for the doctor and slipped out from under the sheets. Then I did what on reflection I can see was another stupid thing: I pulled the wires off my chest and the tubes out of mynose and arm. Instantly the machine let out a constant beep and the tube that had been in my arm leaked a clear liquid onto the bed. Like I said, I felt all right.
    I was wearing my own pajamas, and in a tall, thin cupboard I found my own dressing gown, a hand-me-down from Moses. I sniffed it, as I always did, hoping to catch a long-lost scent of my brother like a message from the past in nasal form.
    It’s strange finding something you own somewhere you’ve never seen it before; you know someone’s tampered with it, rifled through your belongings. I stuck my hands into the threadbare pockets. Something dry and crisp and rough tickled the fingers of my left hand.
    Just then, giving me no time to glance at the mystery object, the doctor appeared.
    â€œHello,” I said for a third time.
    â€œHello,” said the doctor, a beautiful woman. I could not say whether she was young or old. Shewasn’t black or white either; her skin was a dark hazelnut. “I’m Dr. Sanogo,” she went on. “I am one of your doctors, Kaia.” I had
doctors
, not just
a
doctor. “Can I just check you over quickly?”
    I nodded and Dr. Sanogo nodded. Her big frizzy hair tied up above her head nodded too.
    â€œAnd I think Laura here”—indicating the nurse, who had returned without the cleaner—“better get you plugged back in.”
    While the nurse eased me back into bed, Dr. Sanogo did her checks. She held my wrist and felt my pulse. She took my temperature. She asked me a few questions, like my name, my mum’s name, my date of birth. I think I got them all right.
    When she was done, she turned to the nurse, who was long finished and had been hovering nervously by the door. “Laura,” the doctor said, “have you called Kaia’s mum?”
    â€œI thought I’d better wait,” she replied.
    â€œWell, that’s the first thing to do now.” Thenurse left. “Second,” the doctor went on, “I’d better get you something to eat. You must be starving.”
    She turned to leave, but I was quicker this time. “Wait,” I said, and my doctor turned back towards me. “Please, Doctor, where is the boy?”
    â€œBoy?” the doctor replied.
    â€œThe boy. My friend.”
    She stared at me blankly and I started to panic, my breath coming in short spurts and the machines beeping, getting faster and faster.
    â€œThe boy,” I tried again. “He would have arrived with me. He was in the crash too.”
    The doctor stared some