Hello! Here's Chapter 7! I REALLY hoped I could post this on the Wicked anniversary, but the chapters in this story get SO LONG! Ah, well. C'est la vie. If it's any consolation, there's some Fiyeraba in this chapter.
Enjoy!
Chapter 7
The first day of classes after Lurlinemas break started out pretty cheery. Nessa ranted to all of us about how awful Grandmother Partra was, which made me feel just the tiniest bit of schadenfreude. "I mean, she would NOT stop trying to persuade Father to put me through electric shock therapy!" she said. "Everyone knows that that doesn't work!"
Boq chuckled a little. "Yeah, but it was still pretty funny when your aunt thought we were being attacked by Fliaan."
"Boq, she was our age during the Flinnish War; she has PTSD." But Nessa still could not help but laugh too. "Even though, it was a little funny. Fabala, you should've heard her. She ran around the house one night, screaming, 'The Flinnish are coming! The Flinnish are coming! Get to shelter!' Father was not amused!"
"I told you so," I teased. "See, while you were being woken up by crazy Aunt Jeneta, I was sleeping in one of the stately rooms of the grand Upland estate, nice and cozy. Isn't that right, Glin?"
"That's right," Galinda agreed. "We had the best time ever! I think my parents were about ready to adopt Elphie as a second daughter. I think they would really like you too, Nessa. We have to get you up there sometime."
"Just be ready for Highmuster to grill you on all your plans for when you're governor," I warned. "He kept asking me all about that, and I had to say, 'I don't know! I'm not in her head!'"
Nessa giggled. "He would be pretty disappointed actually, since I don't have any grand plans for being governor except to not make the province implode on itself."
"Well, that's a pretty good plan."
But that cheery mood disappeared when we got to Doctor Dillamond's class. Doctor Dillamond was visibly distressed, and soon informed us that it was his last day at Shiz. That would have been awful enough, but not two clock ticks into our lecture, Madam Morrible came in with our new professor and two soldiers, who proceeded to forcibly remove Doctor Dillamond from his own classroom! I, of course, protested all this to Madam Morrible very strongly, but she dismissed me with a simple, "There's nothing I can do, Miss Elphaba. Take your seat now, dearie."
So then, I tried to console myself by reasoning that even though Doctor Dillamond was gone, Doctor Nikidik would pick up right where he left off: at the rule of Ozma the Liberal, a period in history I particularly enjoyed. But I was proven drastically wrong when he started blathering on about the "silence of progress" and pulled out a very strange looking box that had metal bars around it, revealing a poor little Lion cub locked inside. It was visibly shaking, whether from fear or cold I did not know, but whatever the reason, it was clear that Cub was neither happy nor comfortable.
But what shocked me even more was that Doctor Nikidik seemed oblivious to the Cub's suffering. "This is a male cub, little more than a kitten," he told us. "I wanted to name him Prr, but he shivers more than he purrs, so I named him Brr instead. Now, Brr is in what you would call a cage. This remarkable invention is actually for the Animal's own good."
I couldn't listen to another clock tick of that, so I stood up as noisily as I could, pushing my desk back and not so accidentally banging one of my crutches into it. Doctor Nikidik looked up at me expectantly. "If it's so good for him, then why is he trembling?"
Doctor Nikidik shifted awkwardly, clearly taken aback by both my question and my appearance. "Well … he's just excited to be here, that's all." I kept standing as he continued talking. "One of the benefits of caging an Animal this young is that he will never, in fact, learn to speak!"
All of sudden, my crutches were not enough support, and I found myself leaning against Fiyero's desk. "Oh no …" I murmured, half to myself, half to Fiyero. "Can you imagine a world where Animals are in cages?! And they can't speak?!"
Fiyero shrugged. "I dunno."
His indifference astounded me. "Well, someone has to do something!" What happened next really should not have surprised me. I was getting really upset, and I knew what sometimes happened when I got upset. But seeing all my classmates and Doctor Nikidik dancing like they had fire ants crawling up and down their bodies was a still a disturbing sight.
"What did you just do?" Fiyero demanded, turning to me.
"I don't know!" I shot back. "I got mad, and then …"
"Well, don't move! And don't get mad at me." Then he completely shocked me by racing over to Doctor Nikidik's desk and snatching the cage up. He made for the door of the classroom, but then turned back to me. "You coming?!" So, without a word, I followed him as fast as I could, which, admittedly, wasn't all that fast.
About five blocks from the history building, there is a clearing that leads into a forest. Fiyero was already halfway to the trees when I first set foot on the grass. "Fiyero!" I called. "Wait! Slow down!" My legs were screaming at me to give them a break, and even before Fiyero could reach me, I collapsed on the ground.
"Elphaba!" I cringed as he dropped the cage carelessly, and sat down beside me. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. That Cub is probably not okay, however, because you just dropped him on the ground without a second thought! We can't just put him anywhere, you know, we have to find someplace safe!"
"I realize that! Lurline! Kill a man for caring, will you?" He sighed. "You think I'm really stupid, don't you?"
"No. Not really stupid."
"Why is it that every time I see you, you're always causing some sort of commotion?"
"I don't cause commotions; I am one."
"That's for sure."
I exploded. Who does he think he is?! "Oh! So, I should just keep my mouth shut, is that what you think? Do you think I WANT to be this way?! Do you think I WANT to care this much?! Do you realize how much EASIER my life would be if I didn't?!"
"Do you EVER let anyone else talk?!" He looked positively exasperated, and I came to the realization that he had been trying to get a word in edgewise throughout my tirade.
"Sorry," I said, feeling a little embarrassed now. "But can I just say one more thing? You could've walked away back there."
"So?"
"So, however self absorbed or shallow you pretend to be …"
"Excuse me! There is no pretense here! I happen to be genuinely self absorbed and deeply shallow!" He flashed a winning grin that did not work on me one bit.
"No, you're not. Or you wouldn't be so unhappy." Immediately I knew that I had hit a nerve. I'd managed to touch on something that Fiyero didn't even like admitting to himself.
"Well, look who's talking!" he retorted. "You're going to die in three years, and it's like you don't even care. And before you die, you're going to lose, like, everything! But you just act like that's nothing. I don't believe that. Not for a clock tick."
"Of course I care!" I almost yelled. "I used to be completely self sufficient, and now I'm losing that! It sucks! But does that mean I think about it 24/7? Of course not! And does that mean I have the right to complain about it all the time? Absolutely not! Sweet Oz, Fiyero! I'm certainly glad YOU don't have a terminal disease; we'd probably never hear the end of it!" As soon as those words came out of my mouth, I wished I could stuff them back in.
"Fine," he snapped, getting up. "It looks like you don't need my help."
"Wait! I do!" Mercifully, he didn't run off. "I'm sorry. That came out wrong. Would you mind helping me up?"
"Not at all."
Then, when he grabbed my arm to help me stand up, I could swear I felt something like an electric shock, starting at my arm and going through my body. I know that sounds like a passage out of one of Galinda's cheesy romance novels, but there's nothing else I can compare it to. I barely registered him handing me back my crutches because I suddenly found myself looking into his impossibly blue eyes. Honestly, how could eyes be that blue?
"Well, I'd better get to safety," he said, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. "I-I mean the Cub, get the Cub to safety." He picked up the cage and gave me a lopsided smile. "See you around."
"Wait! Fiyero!" But by the time I had regained my voice to say that, he was already out of earshot. But what was I even thinking? This was my best friend's boyfriend, and I was comparing my thoughts about him to passages in romance novels! Galinda was dead set on marrying him; I shouldn't be the one to take that away from her. But even if Galinda wasn't a factor, Fiyero belonged with someone normal, someone he wouldn't have to mourn early, and someone he could walk down the street with without getting gawked at. Part of me found these facts very painful, but another, more sensible part of me know that this was just how my life worked. I simply wasn't going to get everything I wanted. And really, isn't that how everyone else's life works too?
When I was first diagnosed with ALS, I barricaded myself in the library for a few hours one day to read up on it. One of the things I learned that day was that the symptoms of ALS are more likely to worsen during cold weather. Unfortunately, I found that to be true for me. At my February visit to Dr. Headly-Silon, I told her that I was beginning to struggle with crutches, and she led me into another exam room where there was a wheelchair that looked uncannily like my sister's. "I think this would be better for you," Dr. Headly-Silon said. "I know it's a big step for ALS patients to get their first chair; I've seen it a hundred times before. But it's for your safety more than anything."
I stayed silent as she helped me into it. Fiyero had been right; I had been in denial about what was going to happen to me. But this brought me right back to reality. "Why do you think this is going so fast?" I asked Dr. Headly-Silon.
"Ironically, I think it's because you're so young and active," she answered. "You know, the majority of people who get this are already in their retirement years, so they don't put as much stress on their muscles. But you, you're up and about, going to class and extracurriculars and such. That takes its toll."
"I see." I looked down at my new chair, and said almost to myself, "This is almost identical to my sister's."
Dr. Headly-Silon's eyes widened. "Your sister has ALS as well?!"
"Oh, no, no. She had a prenatal spinal cord injury. I would have mentioned it to you if … Never mind. How did you get this chair on such short notice?"
"Oh, I'm currently working on getting everything you'll need in advance so we won't have to rush in an emergency. Speaking of that, I was wondering if you want to record your voice."
"For … what exactly?"
"So you can still sound relatively like yourself when you lose your ability to speak." I really was not ready to even think about being nonverbal, but I reasoned with myself that it would be a good idea to preserve my voice. I knew that having a synthetic voice that still sounded like me would provide some much needed normalcy when the time came.
The recording session took about two hours, so it was beginning to grow dark when I got back to campus. About four blocks from Crage Hall, I noticed that my arms were getting very tired. And not from my disease, mind you, but simply from wheeling that thing! How does Nessa do this?! I wondered. Speak of Kumbrecia, as I was approaching Crage Hall, I saw Nessa leaving the building. She came to a stop when she saw me. "Fabala," she breathed, taking me in.
"Hello, Nessa," I said, trying to act normal. "Where're you off to?"
"Date with Boq. We're seeing One Munchkin, Two Governors over at the student theatre center. It, um, it should be a riot."
"It will be! I've read that play; it's very funny."
Nessa smiled. "Good! I can't wait, then."
Unlocking the door to our room turned out to be an interesting adventure that eventually had me wedged into the doorway so I could reach the lock. But, then I succeeded in getting my key in there, and I opened the door with a triumphant, "Aha!"
Galinda jumped up when she saw me. "ELPHIE! You-…"
"Yes, I'm in a wheelchair," I said calmly. "Let's not declare it to the whole dorm; they'll find out soon enough."
"I have to admit, I feel a little … conflicted," she confessed. "'Cause, like, on one hand, you're beginning to need my help some, and I'm excited about us possibly becoming closer because of that. But then, I think, 'I'm EXCITED that my best friend's health is declining?! That's not right!' But I'm NOT excited about you getting worse; I'm just looking forward to what experiences we might have over the next few years. Do you get what I'm saying?"
I nodded. "Yeah. I do."
That night, Galinda only had to give me minimal help to get ready for bed. I discovered that transfers were easy, but coordinating where clothes went during transfers was not. Lying awake in bed that night, I mulled over what Galinda had said that evening. I couldn't decide if I agreed with her or not. Yes, ALS had the potential to bring me closer to the people I cared about. But it also had the potential to send me spiraling down into an ungraceful decline. And that did not sound appealing.
That's that! Thanks for reading, and happy belated Wickedversary!
Cheers,
Elle Dottore
