“But to make it a little more interesting, we’ll add some more weight.” From a pile in the middle of the table, Elsa began adding beanbags to the empty box. But from the way they thumped into place, Sunny realized that they had to be filled with lead shot.
“Can you handle that?” Elsa asked.
“Yes,” Ollie replied, moving the box—with effort.
“Okay,” the therapist said. “Three sets of ten repetitions.”
Ollie set to work, pushing to the limit of his reach and then pulling the box to the edge of the table. He got through the first set of repetitions fairly easily but was obviously feeling a bit of strain as he went through the next ten. Elsa meanwhile went around the table checking on the progress of the other patients. One was working on her grip with some sort of putty, while another was picking up what looked like golf tees and putting them in a large pegboard. The man with the walker was engaged in the same exercise as Ollie, but with an even bigger pile of soft weights in his box.
“Y’know,” Ollie said, a little breathless from the exertion, “I keep saying you should put some lamb’s wool or fleece on the bottom of these things. Then at least we’d be doing something useful—polishing the table.”
Will grinned. “Or maybe they could put you to work rolling out pie dough.”
Ollie and his tablemate laughed, and Elsa joined in. “Sorry, boys,” she told them. “It’s all in the friction.”
Like most of life, Sunny thought.
The man with the walker finished his stint with the weighted box, and Elsa moved him over to what looked like a modified captain’s wheel set in the wall. Instead of the usual radiating handles, this one had a single handle sticking out from the face of the wheel.
“Very good for the range of motion through the shoulders,” Elsa said when she noticed Sunny looking with interest.
“And a real pain to do,” the man said, taking the handle in his right hand. “We call it the Wheel of Misfortune.” Wincing, he set the wheel in a slow revolution. “There’s one.”
“Nineteen to go,” Elsa told him. “And then you can work the other hand.” She watched for a few more turns of the wheel and then came back to the table. Ollie’s box sat at the edge of the table, and he dangled his arms over either side of his chair, shaking them out.
“Three sets of ten, accomplished,” Will reported. “I counted.”
“We’re going to try something a little more interesting,” Elsa said. “Let’s see how you do in bed.”
“Excuse me?” Ollie said.
He took the words right out of Sunny’s mouth.
Elsa only shook her head. “Come on.” She looked at Will. “Could you do the honors with the chair?” Then she led them to a low, padded platform that filled one corner of the room. “This is the area where people do exercises lying down. It’s also where we practice getting into bed—and out.”
She helped Ollie to a seated, then a lying position. “How’s that?”
“Wonderful,” he replied. “Where are the blankets? They had me up very early this morning.”
“Well, we’re going to get you up again,” Elsa told him. Then she took him through a series of movements that brought him to the edge of the platform. “Now you want your hands beside either hip,” she instructed, setting a walker in front of him. “Push up. I know Jack has been working your opposite leg, so if you need it to, that can take some of the weight. Okay, up, nice and easy.”
It definitely wasn’t easy, but Ollie managed to rise from the platform, stand, and then take hold of the walker.
“Very good work,” Elsa praised him, and Ollie’s face flushed with pleasure.
Elsa beckoned Will forward with the wheelchair. “Lock the wheels,” she instructed. Then, turning to Ollie, she said, “Do you remember the steps for sitting in a chair?”
“Don’t flop.” Ollie seemed to be quoting.
Elsa nodded. “That can end up jostling things and being more painful for you. Slow and steady, that’s the way.”
Sunny watched as Ollie backed the walker in careful steps. It had only been a week, but he was light-years ahead of where he’d been the last time she’d seen him attempting to walk. He transferred his hands from the handles of the walker to the armrests on the chair and then let himself down in the seat.
“Good,” Elsa pronounced. “Now you can rest for a few minutes. I figure if I let you lie down on our make-believe bed, we might never get you up.”
*
Shadow kept a baleful eye on the Old One. Ever since he’d come back home and stood under the water, Shadow had expected Sunny’s father to leave the house and go to wherever the elusive She might be found.
But the Old One hadn’t done that. He’d gone into the room with the picture box, but he hadn’t put the picture box on. He’d picked up a paper thing with pictures and paged through that. His movements had gotten slower and slower, until at last the Old One had gone to sleep. That wasn’t uncommon. Sometimes the Old One took naps on the couch, and Shadow often joined in. It was one of the few activities they could share without annoying each other.
Today, however, Shadow didn’t want to close his eyes. What if he fell asleep, and the Old One somehow managed to escape? So Shadow lay glaring up at the sleeping two-leg, who snored away, oblivious, while the cat did his best to hide his impatience, except for the occasional flick of his tail.
The phone rang, and the Old One jerked awake. He spoke for a few minutes, then put the phone back down and pulled himself more upright, rubbing his face with his hands. With a groan, he pushed himself off the couch and went to the kitchen, sticking his face in the box that made things cold and coming out with a bottle. The Old One looked at it, shook it, and then drank from the bottle, emptying it. Shadow took advantage of the distraction to get down a bite or two of dry food and a swallow of water.
As Sunny’s father went to toss the bottle away, he stared up at the round thing on the wall. Shadow went on the alert. He wasn’t sure what the thing was, but he’d seen similar ones in other human homes. For some reason, the two-legs would look at it and then start rushing around. Still, he expected the Old One to take time checking for his keys and walking to the front door. Instead, the older human was out with the door shut before Shadow could even make a dart for his legs. Frantically, Shadow began leaping up the stairs. He had one chance . . .
Shadow raced along the upstairs hall, into the Old One’s room. He struggled with the screen, pushing his way out, and began climbing the roof. This was the hard part. He had to get around to the front of the house, where the human kept his vehicle.
It was scary, especially the trip down the roof. Shadow feared his paws were going to slip out from under him. But the sound of the truck’s engine starting brought him scrambling to the edge. The ground seemed a long way down, but Shadow gathered himself for a leap.
After all, it wasn’t so bad when you landed on Sunny, he told himself. Down, down he went, landing with a jarring impact that took his breath away. He crouched nervously in the big open space in the rear of the truck. Nowhere to hide. Had the Old One seen anything? Heard anything? But the go-fast merely rumbled and rolled away. Shadow settled down in a more comfortable position, letting his tail encircle his paws.
Wherever we’re going, we’re on our way.
*
Ollie returned to his room and his bed just in time for the arrival of lunch. Since Mr. Vernon seemed to alternate between carving his chicken cutlet and staring at them, conversation suffered. Finally, Will suggested that he and Sunny go down to the coffee shop and grab a bite to eat.
“Before we go, though, I want to call into headquarters and find out what’s happening—and what they want to do with me.”