The Nose from Jupiter Read Free Page A

because she smiles reassuringly.
    “That’s okay. Don’t worry about it. They’ll probably come back later, on their own.” Probably.
    “Where do you want me to start … yesterday morning?” I ask.
    “Wherever you like,” says the doctor.
    A trolley squeaks its way into the room. Stacks of plastic trays. “Breakfast for Dingman,” says the guy pushing it. I tell him my real name. He shrugs. He’s got a floppy shower cap on his head so he won’t contaminate my food and drink. Actually, just drink. My breakfast is a gloppy, yellow milkshake. The doctor screws up her face at the sight of it. “That looks awful,” she says. “And probably tastes even worse. Orderly, can we find this boy a snack? And for lunch he’d like some real food. Right, Alan?” I say yes.
    The shower-cap guy frowns. “But doctor, I just handed in my lunch forms,” he says.
    “Change them,” she tells him.
    “You want me to go through all the forms, just to change Dingman’s lunch?”
    “That’s right.”
    The orderly sighs heavily.
    “Dingwall,” says my dad. “Not Dingman.”
    The orderly sighs some more.
    “Oh you poor thing,” says my mom.
    An hour later my parents are snoring. My breakfast tray has been taken away empty, and I have gone to the bathroom, so I’m empty too. I went all by myself, which wasn’t nearly as easy as I expected. Not a straightforward proposition, if you follow me. Anyway, I’m okay now – which is a step up from last night. I’m thinking about the doctor’s suggestion. I wonder where I should start remembering.
    I can picture Miranda smiling at me. That’s easy. And the soccer game. And the assembly. And the fight in the bathroom afterward. After that, things start to get blurry. “I was walking home along King Street,” I mutter to myself. “A gray afternoon. Yesterday? Was it only yesterday? Victor was scared to come with me, so I was all by myself.”
    –
I think you should start the day I arrived.
    “Oh, hi, Norbert. I thought you were asleep. Have you been listening?”
    –
You remember the day? In the backyard?
    “How could I forget? But that was weeks ago. I’m not going to start way back there.”
    –
Why not? Haven’t I changed your life? You were bored, upset, lonely. A real loser.
    “Thanks,” I say.
    And then I came. Think of that. The Coming of Norbert.
    “Sh,” I whisper. I don’t want to wake my parents.
    –
Who beat up the bullies? Who introduced you to Miranda? Who scored the winning goal against the Cougars?
    “Not you.”
    –
Yes I did!
    “Sh,” I whisper again.
    –
Think about it. The Coming of Norbert was the most important day of your life. Wasn’t it? Wasn’t it!
    “Sh!”
    Have you ever won an argument with your nose? Didn’t think so.

The Coming of Norbert
    The bell rang, separating silence from noise. Before the bell, the classroom was hushed. The kids were bent over desks, concentrating. After the bell was pandemonium. Friday afternoon – time to stretch your cramped muscles, time to put away weekday anxieties and spend two days thinking about nothing much. So why was I so grumpy? You’d think I wanted to stay in school.
    “Walk you home?” Victor called from the desk ahead of mine. “Great afternoon for a walk. We won’t even need our jackets.” He had a smile on his face. He liked home.
    Maybe that was it. I wasn’t looking forward to going home. Partly because it was so darned quiet at home. Just me and the dust balls under the TV cabinet until my momgot home from work at six. I nodded to Vic. Sure, I’d walk home with him.
    Miranda was looking at me. She was one of the nicest kids in the class and, by far, the best athlete. Smart too, and pretty. Looks like she eats lots of fiber and does pushups every morning. No reason for her to notice me. Not me, boring old Alan Dingwall. I ate potato chips and generally had no idea – I mean
no
idea – what was going on in math class. Mr. Duschene might as well have been talking a