Taji's Syndrome Read Free Page A

the idea. “I’m an athlete, for God’s sake! You know what happens with those designer drugs? Well, I’m not taking any chances.”
    “Olympic gold in diving, right?” said Eric, repeating Gail’s often-stated goal.
    “For starters,” she said, letting him off the hook.
    “And then what?” He caught up to her, his breath coming too fast. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead and the color had drained from his face.
    “Oh, hey, I’m sorry,” said Gail, slowing at once. “I keep forgetting. Are you sure we ought to be walking home at all?”
    Eric gave her a crooked smile. “The doctors said that so long as I don’t overdo, some exercise is probably good for me. I’m scheduled for another series of tests next week.”
    “Next week?” Gail was shocked. “But you just had a bunch two weeks ago.”
    “Which didn’t turn up anything,” he reminded her, pleased that she reduced the pace of their hike.
    “But Eric . . . ” She hesitated. “I mean, don’t they know what’s wrong? How can they not know? They’ve got all those machines and computers and all that. How can they not know?” They passed a service station with the usual twenty-car line for the pumps; neither Eric nor Gail paid any attention to the sight, which had become commonplace in the last two years.
    “I guess because there’s nothing . . . specific about what’s the matter. It’s a little bit like mono and a little bit like a lot of other things, but it isn’t any of them.” He sighed, giving way to the futility he had felt since he had his first tests last May, six months ago.
    “Boy, what a ghoully thing!” Gail burst out. “I start my crummy periods and then you get . . . what did they used to call it?”
    “The vapors,” he suggested, trying to make light of it again.
    “Yeah, that’s right. The vapors.” She said it in an exaggerated way, her voice deep and what she hoped was spooky. “The vapors! It sounds like a third-rate monster mini-series, doesn’t it?”
    “Or a new video.” He stopped briefly, smiling his apology at her. “Sorry. Can we talk about something else?”
    “Sure,” she said at once, switching to her own sports with ease. “I’m going to be in the freestyle as well as the diving next weekend. The coach asked me to fill in for Gretchen Wills—she’s got something wrong with her, and Ms. Dennison wants to have a full team in all the events.”
    “Well, good for you,” said Eric, doing his best to muster enthusiasm. He was never much good at sports, and recently he had been excused from the athletic program at his high school until his physician determined it was safe for him to resume such demanding activities. “I know Mom’ll be happy to know that, too. She told Megan that she ought to practice more.”
    Gail shook her head over the lack of perception this showed. “Megan’s no swimmer. She’s okay, but that’s all. Mom ought to get her those extra dancing lessons she wants, because that’s what she’s good at.”
    “How can you tell? She’s only nine.” Eric hated to admit it, but his youngest sister baffled him.
    “Nine’s almost too late for a dancer,” Gail announced with authority. “You ask Meredith, and she’ll tell you.”
    Eric shook his head. “Meredith doesn’t talk to me that much anymore.” She had almost been his girlfriend for more than a year, and then, as Eric’s health changed, Meredith slipped away from him, as if she feared his unknown disease might touch her as well. “She’s taking extra dance classes,” he added, glad that there was a reasonable excuse for the change in their fading relationship.
    “Well, see what I mean?” Gail asked, then paused. “Are you scared, Eric?”
    “Yeah,” he admitted. “Don’t tell Mom and Dad, will you? They’re pretty upset as it is.” He cleared his throat and squinted across the next intersection. “They’d get me shrunk if they thought I was scared.”
    “So what? Getting shrunk isn’t too