Disclaimer: They're not my characters. Why are they following me everywhere?
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Thursday, January 21.
Mr. Simon pressed a white button by the side of the gate. Moments later a nearby speaker started to crackle, and a man's voice emitted from it: "State your business."
"We're the Simons," Roger responded. "We have an appointment with Mr. Putnam."
After a few seconds of silence, the voice from the speaker said, "Proceed."
A buzzing sound indicated that the gate had been unlocked. Mr. Simon pushed it open, and he started along the pathway with his wife and daughter.
Beat gazed in wonder at the yellow-painted cobblestone pathway that led through the vast yard in front of the Putnam mansion. "This is like the Wizard of..."
Before she could complete her sentence, a sudden, intense sensation of cold and soreness spread through her face. She noticed a strong taste of blood on her tongue, as if a tooth had just fallen out and left a gaping hole. In an instant, she was no longer strolling along the stone path, but lying prostrate on what felt like a corduroy sofa.
"Huh? What...where..." she stammered, only to find that most of her face, and especially her nose, became inflamed with pain every time she moved her lips to speak.
"Take it easy, Beat," came a girl's voice that sounded slightly familiar. "You've been in a fight. You'll be okay."
Beat groaned miserably. Her swollen face felt as if someone had plowed it thoroughly with a tractor. She could only see out of her left eye; a cold, moist object that she took to be an ice pack was covering her right eye. She quickly realized that another, larger ice pack had been placed over her aardvark nose, which seemed to have ballooned to the size of an elephant's.
"Wh-who did this?" she asked weakly.
"I didn't see who it was," replied the girl's voice. "Didn't you?"
Beat's good eye was staring up at a light blue ceiling; she didn't feel like moving it to identify the girl who was talking to her. "Who are you?" she inquired.
"It's me, Mavis," said the girl in a friendly voice.
"Mavis...Cutler?" Beat recalled fondly the occasion when she had met Mavis at a party, and learned that it was possible to attend Uppity Downs without being rich.
"Do you know any other Mavises?" asked Mavis, who was now looking down over Beat's left eye so that her hamster-like face, curly red hair, and spectacles were visible.
"What am I doing here?" asked Beat, speaking slowly in an attempt to avoid antagonizing the swollen flesh of her nose.
"You came here," Mavis replied. "You just walked in here a few minutes ago with your face all beaten up."
"But...why did I come here?" Beat persisted in her questioning. "Why didn't I go to my flat?"
"I guess because it was closer," Mavis conjectured. "Plus you know my mom's a doctor."
"I've only met you once," Beat pointed out. "At the party."
"That's not true," said Mavis with a confused tone. "You've been going to Uppity Downs with me for over a week now. Don't you remember?"
"Now you're talking nonsense," Beat retorted. "I was just on my way to Mr. Putnam's place with my mum and dad to see if we could talk him into letting me attend."
"That was three weeks ago," Mavis informed her.
"What?" Beat slowly bent herself into a sitting position, carefully holding the ice packs to her face. She observed that the pink parka and blouse she had worn for school had been replaced by an oversized brown shirt and pants. Her feet were clad in a pair of strange, worn tennis shoes. "What's today's date?"
"It's February 13th," Mavis continued. "Saturday."
"That's impossible," Beat attempted to say, but it came out as "that'th ibpothible". Her swollen nose was blocking off her sinuses, and her tongue seemed to be reporting the absence of one or two teeth.
"Well, then, what day do you think it is?" asked Mavis mockingly.
"It's Thursday, January 21st," Beat answered.
Mavis placed her hands on Beat's shoulders and tried to force her to recline. "I think you'd better lie down," she recommended. Then she turned her head and called toward her parents' bedroom. "Mom!"
Moments later Dr. Cutler emerged from the bedroom, wearing a casual red dress. "What is it?"
"Beat has amnesia," said Mavis, her voice full of concern. "She's lost her memory of the past three weeks!"
(To be continued! Please review and submit your ideas for how the story should proceed!)