silent words to God, Don’t let me throw up in a taxi.

Carefully Ramona laid her head in her

mother’s lap and with every click of the meter thought, I will not throw up in a taxi. And she did not. She managed to wait until she was home and in the bathroom.

How good Ramona’s bed felt with its

clean white sheets. She let her mother wipe her face and hands with a cool washcloth

and later take her temperature. Afterward, Ramona did not care about much of anything.

Late in the afternoon she awoke when

Beezus whispered, “Hi,” from the doorway.

When Mr. Quimby came home, he too

paused in the doorway. “How’s my girl?” he inquired softly.

“Sick,” answered Ramona, feeling pitiful.

“How’s the car?”

“Still sick,” answered her father. “The

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mechanic was so busy he couldn’t work on it today.”

In a while Ramona was aware that her

family was eating dinner without her, but

she did not care. Later Mrs. Quimby took

Ramona’s temperature again, propped her

up, and held a glass of fizzy drink to her lips, which surprised Ramona. Her mother did

not approve of junk foods.

“I talked to the pediatrician,” Mrs. Quimby explained, “and she said to give you this

because you need fluids.”

The drink gave Ramona a sneezy feeling

in her nose. She waited anxiously. Would it stay down? Yes. She sipped again, and in a moment again.

“Good girl,” whispered her mother.

Ramona fell back and turned her face into

her pillow. Remembering what had hap-

pened at school, she began to cry.

“Dear heart,” said her mother.“Don’t cry.

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You just have a touch of stomach flu.You’ll feel better in a day or so.”

Ramona’s voice was muffled. “No, I

won’t.”

“Yes, you will.” Mrs. Quimby patted

Ramona through the bedclothes.

Ramona turned enough to look at her

mother with one teary eye.“You don’t know

what happened,” she said.

Mrs. Quimby looked concerned. “What

happened?”

“I threw up on the floor in front of the

whole class,” sobbed Ramona.

Her mother was reassuring. “Everybody

knows you didn’t throw up on purpose, and

you certainly aren’t the first child to do so.”

She thought a moment and said, “But you

should have told Mrs.Whaley you didn’t feel good.”

Ramona could not bring herself to admit

her teacher thought she was a nuisance. She 114

let out a long, quavery sob.

Mrs. Quimby patted Ramona again and

turned out the light.“Now go to sleep,” she said,“and you’ll feel better in the morning.”

Ramona was sure that, although her stom-

ach might feel better in the morning, the

rest of her would still feel terrible. She wondered what nickname Yard Ape would give

her this time and what Mrs.Whaley said to

the school secretary about her at lunchtime.

As she fell asleep, she decided she was a super-nuisance, and a sick one at that.

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7

The Patient

During the night Ramona was half

awakened when her mother wiped her