June was typing on the little flat typewriter.
“What is that?” Mandy asked.
June skipped a beat trying to understand the question. “What is what?”
Mandy pointed. “That thing you’re typing on.”
Angela rotated the stand so Mandy could see it better. “This thing right here?”
Mandy nodded, amazed at the words and lines and little blinking spaces on the screen—and there was her name in tight little letters as clear as a bell. It was like television, only much better.
June put a little white thimble over Mandy’s thumb and another gadget on a wheeled rack showed the results in more red numbers: 95, 97, 96 …
Angela saw the numbers and typed those in. “This is a computer. You’ve never seen a computer?”
June stroked a little gadget over Mandy’s forehead and said, “Ninety-eight point six.”
Now Mandy had to check that thing out. “Did you just take my temperature?”
June smiled. “Sure did.”
“No thermometer?”
“That’s what this is.”
Mandy reached out and touched, then tapped the edge of the computer screen. It was real under her fingers.
Angela was watching her. “Mandy, have you had any drugs or alcohol in the past twenty-four hours?”
This was worse than Planet of the Apes.This was Planet of the Weird Hospital of the Future… or The Time Machine Gone Crazy, or …
“Mandy?”
“I need to call my father.”
“Can I ask a few questions first?”
Mandy slowed her words down. “I need to call my father. He’s going to be worried about me. He doesn’t know where I am.”
“We’ll call him, but we need to be sure you’re all right first.”
Nobody ever listened! “I need to call him now!”
Johnny, still stationed just outside the door, gave her a corrective parent look, his weight shifted in her direction.
“All right, Mandy.” Angela reached into her pocket. “Here you go.” She handed Mandy a little plastic square thing, folded like a clam.
Mandy held the thing in her hand, turning it over, exploring, trying to understand it. She was getting that sinking feeling she got in school when she didn’t know the answer to a test question—and she could easily sense that Angela was playing the prof.
Angela reached over and opened the little clam. Inside were tiny buttons like an adding machine and … was that a television in there? What was this, another computer a whole lot smaller? Mandy felt totally stupid.
Angela asked, “Have you ever seen one of these?”
“Maybe on Star Trek.You know, ‘Kirk to Enterprise!’”
Angela reached over and took it from her. “What’s the number?”
“Parkway three-seven-one-two-zero.”
Angela and June looked at each other.
“Parkway?” asked June.
Angela asked, “You wouldn’t have another number we could try, would you?”
“That’s the only number we have.”
Angela shrugged with her eyebrows, tapped on the little buttons, and handed the thing back.
Mandy didn’t know what to do with it—was her dad going to pop up on that little TV like Captain Kirk?
Angela mimed holding a phone to her ear. Mandy put the thing up to her ear.
Oh. Wow.This was too much.
Right away she got a rude squeal and a voice: “We’re sorry, the number you have called is no longer in service. Please check the number and try again.”
“The number was wrong,” she said, staring at the little buttons.
“Press Off.”
Mandy obeyed.
“Now press Talk and try again.”
Mandy pressed Talk and listened. Dial tone. She entered the numbers again, watching them appear on the little screen. Wow.
“We’re sorry, the number you have called is no longer in service. Please check the number and try again.”
Mandy thrust the little plastic clam/ Star Trekcommunicator back at Angela. “I need a real phone, one I can dial with!”
Angela took it from her hand. “Sweetie, this isa real telephone. It’s a cell phone, right?”
You expect me to know that?Mandy couldn’t sit. She was on her feet before she noticed, shuffling about the free floor space like a nervous fish in a very small bowl. “A cell phone.” Yeah. Riiight!Like everybody and his mother and his uncle and brothers had a cell phone! She wanted to bite somebody. “Where’d you get it?”
Angela gave a little shrug. “I bought it. You’ve never seen one?”
“No. There’s a lot of stuff I’ve never seen before, everywhere I look. It’s like I’ve gone into the future or something.”
Angela paused just a moment and her tone changed ever so slightly. “Mandy? What year is it?”
Mandy looked at her, looking for a sparkle in the eye, an upturned corner of her mouth. “You serious?”
Angela just tilted her head with an apologetic air and waited for an answer.
“It’s 1970,” said Mandy. “It’s September twelfth, 1970.”
“Who’s the president?”
Oh, come on!“Nixon’s president!”
“Okay.”
Now June was typing on the computer.
She is messing with me!“Nixon’s the president. Spiro Agnew’s vice president. You want to know the Speaker of the House? John McCormack!”
“Mandy …”
“And Nixon ran against Hubert Humphrey and Humphrey’s running mate was Ed Muskie and I don’t do drugs and I don’t drink and I never have!” Now Mandy was crying; she couldn’t help it.
“All right, Mandy, all right.”
“I’m not crazy!”
Johnny leaned in. “Everything okay in here?”
Who invited you?“I’m fine, thank you!”
He just kept that same old steel expression: Mr. Wall. Don’t try to get past me.
Angela whispered something to Johnny and then closed the door to only a crack. Then she sat with Mandy and put an arm around her shoulder. It felt good, warm and human. It gave her permission to cry, so she just let go. She needed to.
Angela spoke close to her ear, almost in a whisper, “Sweetheart, we’re your friends. We want to make sure you’re all right and we want to fix whatever’s wrong, but we need your help. We need you to help us help you. Do you understand?”
Mandy’s nose was running, but June had a tissue right there, just in time, and then another one for her tears. Mandy used both, received a third, and then nodded.
“Now, we’re going to do all we can to contact your father; we’ll get some people working on that right away and they can be doing that while we’re working with you, but right now we have to ask questions and do some tests and do all we can to isolate the problem. Will you help us do that?”
She wanted to trust them. She nodded again.
June remained seated at the computer, typing away while Angela asked Mandy a whole string of questions:
Full Name: Mandy Eloise Whitacre.
Age: Nineteen.
Address: Mandy could recite it without a hitch.
Next of kin: Her father, Arthur, and there was also her aunt Josie, her dad’s sister who lived in Seattle. June typed in all the phone numbers and addresses.
Height: Five-four.
Weight: 108.
On any medications? No.
Any allergies? None that she knew of.
Any past surgeries? No.
Medical problems? She fell off a horse once and sprained her ankle.
When was her last menstrual period? Just finished it last week.
So not much chance she was pregnant? No chance at all, since she’d never had sex.
Was she in school, working? She was attending North Idaho Junior College, pursuing theater, and working in the research library to offset her tuition.