September 8, 1900

Tombstone. 

This morning I hobbled my way over to the clinic and saw Mr. Stone. He asked what happened and I told him about hurting my foot while we were playing soccer. 

“Well, I can’t have you up and cleaning with a broken ankle,” he said and I sighed. 

“Yeah but I didn’t wanna stay home either. I like this job too much.” 

“I’m really glad to hear that,” he grinned. 

“And all I could think ’bout was how I was gonna be letting you down.” 

“You wouldn’t be letting me down if you couldn’t work. That ankle needs rest. But I am glad to see you. We can sit here and go over stuff. No need to walk around today.” 

“Yeah okay. I figured we could talk about somethin’ or write somethin’ down. I guess I still need a physical too.” 

“Yes, you do need one. We can do that.” 

“We can?” 

“Sure. I’ll give you a physical and you can take notes so you know what kind of things are involved.” 

“Okay. Mr Alex?” 

“Yes?” 

“I talked with Mr. Tony and Miss Paisley last night…” 

“Oh yeah? What about?” 

“Well you remember how I was havin’ trouble with my real parents and what happened to ’em?” I asked and he nodded. “And how I couldn’t understand why Ma did what she did? Or how Pa could be okay with it?” 

“So you asked them to help explain?” 

“Yeah and they helped me understand it a bit better. Miss Paisley she just likes to entertain and make people happy… And Mr. Tony said that he trusts her ’cause her heart belongs to him and ’cause even the worst of bad guys really like her. So they wouldn’t hurt her.” 

“That’s very true.” 

“But then why would that man kill my Ma?” 

“I don’t know the answer to that. Maybe they had a fight. Maybe he was drunk or on morphine. There could be a number of reasons,” he shrugged. 

“And…” I nodded. “Mr. Tony said that maybe Pa was tryin’ to catch Ma’s killer on his own. And didn’t want the Pinkertons helpin’.” 

“That’s possible.”

“Anyway I guess I feel a bit better ’bout it all…” 

“That’s good!” he smiled. 

“Only thing I’m confused ’bout is that Ma went to the Apache for peace and a place to think, right? But Miss Dancing Cloud seems real not peaceful. And she the only Native I’ve seen here.” 

“I’m not sure the Apache are peaceful, more like it’s peaceful out in the desert where they live. At least that’s how I feel. I like being out alone with one one around when I need to think,” he said after he thought about it. 

We started to do the physical and he got out his clipboard. “Let’s get your height first. You’re a little on the small side for a 12 year old, I think, but you’ll probably have a growth spurt soon.” 

“Can you stand up okay to do that?” he asked and I did so. “Okay, stand on the scale, I’ll get your height and weight.” 

“So what’s my height and weight Mr. Stone?” I asked curiously. 

“You are 5 feet even! That’s not bad.” 

“Am I fat Mr. Stone?” 

“And weight…” he moved the little scale and said, “Hardly! Nat, you’re skinny as a rail. 104.” 

“But ma’s been feedin’ me lots so I get to be like a twelve year old.” 

“You’ll probably spurt up soon. Ok, hop down. Lets do your eyes next. Stand here,” he pointed to a spot on the floor and I stepped there. “Now read the eye chart on the wall. Hopefully you have better eyesight than I do.” 

I read the letters on the board, including the very bottom line with the small letters, and he was very impressed. 

Doc Libby came in and I told her about the results on my physical so far. He took my blood pressure and said it was perfect as Doc Libby headed out. “Blood pressure is 120 over 80. That’s perfect.” 

“What do those numbers mean?” 

“Those numbers are the systolic pressure over the diastolic pressure. It means the highest pressure, at the heartbeat’s peak and the lowest pressure, between heartbeats.” 

“Ooh.” 

He took my temperature then and checked my reflexes. My temperature was perfect too and then he listened to my heart with the stethoscope. He then checked my reflexes with a hammer tool and when he did the sore leg side, I winced because it was still sore. He apologized and I said I was okay. 

“Now it’s question time. Do you know your birthday?” Mr. Stone asked. 

“Yeah. Not the year I thought it was. January 29... um... 1887.” 

“Other than your broken ankle, do you have any complaints? Anything feel wrong or hurts?” he asked and I shook my head. “Good. Have you had any serious illnesses or surgeries, any other broken bones? You broke your arm once, right?” 

“Yeah when I fell down in the mine… Never goin’ back there.” 

“That’s probably a good idea. Any thing other than that?” 

“Don’t think so.” 

“Have you ever had a tetanus shot?” 

“Um… Maybe? I dunno. Wait!” I said and dug through my folder with my birth stuff and found a line, exclaiming, “Look! Says I did!” 

“Oh good idea. That should have your records,” he looked over and made a note of the date, writing it down. “Have you had your tonsils removed?” 

I looked in the paper and shook my head. “Nope... It doesn’t have a date here. That sounds like it could hurt.” 

“Yeah it probably does. Luckily you’ve been healthy.” 

“’cept for when I been stupid,” I looked down. 

“What do you mean by that?” he looked at me. 

“Well… I fell down the mines ’cause I weren’t looking. I kicked the ball too hard and it broke my foot cause I weren’t wearin’ shoes.” 

He wrote out some other notes and looked over at me, handing me a copy. “Those were accidents, Nat. They happen to everyone. Do you think I’m stupid because I cut my hand the other day?” he asked and I shook my head, putting the papers away. “Don’t feel bad about that then.” 

“Okay, I won’t.” 

“You’re all done,” he smiled. “Can you do me a favour, Nat?” 

“Sure.” 

“Please write keep a list for me of the exams I’ve given with the date. You can put yours on the top.” 

“Okay so that includes um… Miss Mara… Miss Joan…” I looked at the list I’d already started making. 

“Oh yes, I did give her one. And Joan.” 

“You didn’t do Miss Angeles did you?” 

“Nope, I didn’t.” 

“Then I guess It’s jes those three.” 

“You’ve been doing such a good job in here. I’m really proud of you.”

“Oh yeah!! You wrapped Payton’s hand with a bandage too.” 

“Yes, but that doesn’t need to be on the list. I just want to keep track of these exams.” 

“Okay.” 

“I think we’re all done. Do you have any questions?” 

“I don’t think so. I guess I should go home and rest huh?” 

“You do need to rest. The more you stay off that ankle the quicker it will heal.” 

He helped me off the table and then I headed out of the clinic to go home and read.