A Man Named Dave

the broom! Now run!”
    In a flash I race through Mother’s house. I can hear her evil laugh as I slam the front door shut before sprinting off to school.
     
    Minutes later, after running to school at top speed, I stagger into the nurse’s office with my hands slapping on my knees. With every breath I take in, the muscles around my throat tighten. An enormous pressure from behind my eyes begins to build. I slap my knees as if that will somehow make air rush into my lungs. The school nurse spins around from behind her desk. My mind fumbles to yell, but I cannot form the words. But I try again. “C-a-n-’t b-r-e-a-t-h-e!” I finally sputter, pointing at my neck.
    The nurse leaps up with lightning speed, grabs a brown bag, turns it upside down spilling its contents onto the floor, and kneels down in front of me. Through my tears I can see the terror in her eyes. I want to cry out, but I’m too scared. The nurse pulls on my hand, but I slap her away as I continue to pound my knees. The more I try to draw air into my lungs, the more the invisible bands tighten around my chest. “No!” the nurse shouts. “David, stop it! Don’t fight it! You’re hyperventilating!”
    “Hipper ventle … ?” I gasp.
    “Slow down. You’re going to be fine. I’m just going to put this bag over your –”
    “ Nooo! I can’t … won’t be able … to see. I … have to see!”
    “Shh, I’m right here. Close your eyes and concentrate on the sound of my voice. Good. Now slow down. Take tiny puffs of air. Breathe through your nose. That’s it,” the nurse whispers in a soothing voice. With her I feel safe. “That’s much better; tiny breaths. Reach out, take my hand. I’m right here. I’m not going to leave you. You’re going to be fine.”
    I obey the nurse and shut my eyes. As the nurse places the bag over my face, I can instantly feel warm air circulate. It feels good, but after a few breaths my exhaled air becomes too hot. My legs begin to lock up. By accident I jerk the nurse’s hand.
    “Shh. David, trust me, you’re fine. You’re doing better. Much better. That’s it, slow down. See? Now, lean your head back and relax.”
    As I tilt my head backward, a rush of air escapes from my mouth. The pressure is so intense that I fight to keep myself from throwing up. I rip the bag from my face before my legs buckle, and I fall to the floor gasping for more air. Within seconds the bands around my chest begin to ease.
    After a few minutes, the fire from inside my neck begins to cool. “Here,” the nurse says, holding a glass of ice cubes in front of me, “take one of these to suck on.”
    I try to pick up a piece of ice, but my trembling fingers cannot grasp the cube. Without a second thought the nurse reaches into the glass and picks one out. “Open up.”
    I lower my head, trying to hide. The moment I do, the searing pain returns. “David, what’s wrong? Come on now, open up,” she instructs in a more commanding tone. I close my eyes. I know what’s coming next: questions. I’d give anything to avoid another round of questions. All they do is make everyone at school upset and somehow Mother always finds out. Whenever the principal has called Mother, the staff at school would see the results the next day. As I continue to avoid the nurse’s eyes, I fantasize about crawling into a corner so I can disappear.
    I slowly open my eyes when I feel the nurse lift my head with her fingers. Her face turns chalky white.
    “Oh … my … Lord! What in heaven’s name happened to your neck?” the nurse exclaims as she peers from side to side.
    I wring my hands, hoping she’ll drop the subject. “Please!” I wheeze. “Let it go.”
    “ The side of your Adam’s apple is so swollen!” The nurse flies away to snatch a tongue depressor from one of her glass jars. “Let’s have a look. Open up.” I let out a raspy sigh before obeying. “I need you to open just a little bit wider. Can you do that for me?” she asks gently.
    “Can’t,” I whimper. “Hurts too much.”
    At last the nurse allows me to close my mouth. Again, I try to avoid her stare. I bury my trembling fingers in my lap. She shakes her head before standing up and grabbing her clipboard. Every school day, for over a year, the nurse has inspected my body from head to toe before documenting her examinations. Now she mutters to herself as she scribbles her latest findings. Kneeling back down, she delicately massages the palms of my hands. I bite my lip in anticipation. The nurse stares into my eyes as if not knowing what to