The Isle Read Free Page B

doesn’t work like Renny’s does. She thinks things over so fast.
    I yank my hand back from the lady in white and cross my arms. “I have to use the bathroom!” I shout. “It’s an emergency. I’m serious.” And I am. I really do have to pee.
    She doesn’t believe me. Her helmet hair actually stiffens around her head.
    â€œDo you want me to go in the bed while I’m under?”
    The lady exhales through her nose, flat-lipped like a dead fish.
    â€œA bed full of pee is no fun for anyone. . . .”
    She nods toward a door in the far corner. “There’s the bathroom. I’ll be waiting for you.”
    I’m sure you will . If Ren were here now, she’d know howto escape in the amount of time it took to pee. I don’t know if I’m that smart. Steadying myself, I place both feet on the floor and take all the time in the world. Then I stay like that for a bunch more seconds.
    â€œSorry,” I say, breathing heavily. “I’m so dizzy. And my stomach hurts.” I clutch it, the same as when I’d skip class at Nale’s to go penny-hunting.
    The lady doesn’t respond.
    Once I’m finally inside the bathroom, I look around. It’s a normal bathroom with normal bathroom things: sink, toilet, toilet paper.
    How will any of this help me? I can’t flush myself down the drain. Above the toilet there’s a metal air vent. If I followed it long enough, could I eventually find a way out? It looks like I could unscrew it, too. But what if I get caught?
    My fear embarrasses me. Ren wouldn’t think like that .
    Still mulling over the vent, I lift the hospital gown above my waist and pee, since I was telling the truth about that part. I’d need to get the lady out of the room—at least for a few minutes—if I were going to try for the vent. At Nale’s, other girls used to spend hours and hours in the bathroom. They’d rather be in a smelly bathroom than in class. They’d say they had their period. I’ve never had mine. Survival trumps baby-making, Ren told me once.
    I could get it, though. . . . I clap my hands together. Today’s as good a day as any.
    I decide to scream.
    â€œOh my god, oh my god! There’s blood!” I start fake crying.
    â€œWhat is it, child?” I hear the lady say from outside thedoor. She’s banging on the metal, announcing to me that she’s coming in. Since the door doesn’t have a lock, she’s able to walk in on me like this, squatting on the seat, knees locked together.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” I howl, blushing furiously, clutching my penny necklace. “Go away!”
    Quickly, she shuts the door and says from the other side, “Don’t you know what a period is? Jesus, child. That’s nothing to scream about.”
    â€œPlease, I hate blood. I need . . . something,” I answer through the tears.
    â€œAll right, all right,” the lady mutters. “You stay where you are. And stop your crying.” I hear her walking away, and then a door closes.
    It worked.
    I . . . I don’t believe it. I stifle a giggle. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt smarter than I do in this very moment. This was just the first hurdle—there are more to go—but I can’t help it. If Ren were here, she’d—well . . .
    First she’d tell me to get over myself. Then she’d tell me to keep moving. Last, when I was definitely out of danger, she’d tell me she’s not surprised in the least.
    With that thought keeping me afloat, I hop onto the toilet seat and examine the vent. My fingernails are too short to twist the screws free. I try anyway and end up with a bloody thumb.
    What can I do? I’m not even sure how much time has passed. . . .
    In bed, time never seemed to pass. Since I drank the water,time moves so much quicker. I rub the copper penny between my fingers, staring at the screws, chewing on my lip, and