BAD NEWS

Chapter Three

Faith frowned, immediately pulling away from the frightening cleric. "What?"

The priest had an urgency in his tone that Faith had never heard before. "It may not seem like it now, but everything you know depends on what I tell you."

Faith panicked. What was he talking about?! Her mother was going to kill her…and he was freaking her out. "I'm sorry, I can't, I-"

Just then an familiar voice sounded right next to her ear. "I have been waiting fifteen minutes."

As she turned, her mother, crossing her arms and looking quite perturbed, came into view.

Faith looked back to the priest apologetically. "I'm sorry, I-"

But only an empty hallway met her eye.

Faith's eyes darted to the right and left. Swerving into a circle, she searched for his black-cloaked form. "Where did he go?" she said aloud, mystified.

"Where did who go?" her mother, Jackie, demanded.

"A priest," Faith quickly answered. She continued looking around as her mother prompted her to walk away from the confessionals. She looked behind herself, determined to catch sight of him. "We were talking and he said he had something important to say…and then he just disappeared."

Her mother, Jackie, hurriedly led her down the stairs of the Catholic school. "Well, whatever he wanted to say must not have been that important," she quickly surmised. "Do you have your books?"

Dread encompassed her. Her mother hated it when she wasn't ready. "No," she replied timidly. "But I'll go get them right away."

"Faith," Jackie warned her, waiting once again and crossing her arms.

Faith held back a growl. Why did her mother always have to be so difficult? She was in church, how could she have possibly gotten her books? "God, why does she do this to me…" Quickly putting in her combination, Faith shoved all her books into her book bag to make sure she wasn't forgetting anything and dashed back to meet her mom, as so not to irritate her further.

"About time," her mother complained, leading her out to their gray '90 Grand Marquee. "Are you forgetting anything?"

Faith plopped down inside the comfortable car as the door unlocked. "No."

"Are you sure?" Her words were drawn out, the same way she spoke when Faith told a lie.

"No," Faith snapped. Faith never meant to, but somehow her personality went from normal and peaceful to short-tempered and sullen whenever she was in her mother's presence. She didn't mean to; it just happened.

Her mother's face frowned. "What happened at school today to get you in this attitude?"

Faith hated that question. "I am not having an attitude," she denied.

Her mother laughed bitterly. "Well, then why're you acting like you have an attitude?"

With a long, exaggerated sigh, Faith stared out of the window, not saying another word. Temporarily giving up, her mother did the same. Faith's eyebrows folded as they usually did when she grew upset. She remembered when they'd actually had a relationship. She'd come home from school, give her mom a hug and a kiss, have a snack, and talk about her day with her. Her mother was happy then, so was Faith. God, what had happened?

The rest of the drive across down to the doctor's was spent in silence.

* * * * *

An athletic man with a small balding spot among his rusty mat of hair and a sideways smile, professionally extended his hand. "Hi, Faith. I'm Dr. Zenger. Orhtepedic surgeon extraordinare, at your service." Faith shook it cautiously. He straightened his thick, purple-framed spectacles first and then his colored tie that had the subtlety of a bursting supernova.

Read: Fruitcake.

"So…I hear that you've been having some trouble with your knees…"

Faith loved the way they were all so perceptive. "It's really sharp, like shooting pain in my knees." Faith had been to so many doctors she considered making a tape of herself saying that.

The doctor gave a "mm-hmm" and wrote something down on his yellow legal pad. "Okay, and when does this happen?"

"Whenever I run, jump, play sports…but it hurts most when I go up stairs." She arched her neck, trying to get a view of the paper as he furiously scribbled down in the pad.

"Mm-hmm," he repeated. Faith almost made a face. The sound was getting annoying. "That's what the papers say…yes…"

Faith cast an incredulous look her mother's way. Jackie shrugged with a confused smile on her face. Faith listened to the screech of the marker against the page and straightened her Catholic school skirt. She hated feeling like she was on center stage…especially with someone taking notes on her.

"The X-rays haven't quite gotten here ye-"

"Dr. Zenger?"

The nurse caught him and everyone else in the room by surprise as she stood just outside the doorway. "The X-rays for Faith Clarky you wanted are here."

The doctor speratically sprang to his feet from the chair with the energy of a caffeinated Richard Simmons and said, "Interesting timing…in that case, I'll be right with you, ladies…" He took the X-Rays from the nurse, and the door shut behind him.

Faith immediately turned around to her mother. "Where'd you find him? In the psychologically-dependant section of the physician yellowpages?"

From the look on her face, Faith figured her mother must not have caught the humor. "He's the best orthopedic surgeon in the area, and he wants to help you," she urged. "So what if he's a little eccentric? He'll get you cured."

Faith crossed her arms, unintentionally mirroring her mother. "Yeah. Right. Just like every other doctor I've gone to in the past two years." She turned back around, sending the clear message that she had no intention to taking the conversation further.

But Jackie never did take to subtle hints like that and never would. However, her sympathy did go out to her daughter. It had to be hard, dealing with all the false hope she'd been given since they found out there was a problem with her kneecaps in the first place. They'd told her by now her worries would be long gone. But they'd only tripled. Jackie sighed. "I wish it was different, Faith," she said sincerely, softly. "I really do." She went up to put a hand on her daughter's shoulder, but Faith brushed it off. Jackie frowned. "But it's not, and we're doing the very best we can. I only want to see you get better. You know I'd do anything for you…"

Faith tried to shut her eyes, but failed. Scared, she stared up at her mother. "I don't want to hurt anymore." She took a second to calm herself down. "And I know you're doing your best. I know it costs a lot…"

For a second, Faith thought she'd made her mother cry, but instead, Jackie rubbed her daughter's back soothingly in the way only a mother could. "The money's no issue. We only want to see you get better. And Dr. Zenger's the best around…we will get you fixed."

Faith humored her with a smile, and was about to say something else when Dr. Zenger came trotting back into the office. There was a pause as he sat down and took a deep breath. "Okay, I've gotten a chance to go over the X-rays.." he announced. And all this time I thought you went out for sushi, she thought.

"And?" her mother asked.

There was definite awkward silence as the doctor began to talk once and then once more, but failed to both times.

That same feeling Faith had felt when the priest had grabbed her arm shot back into her chest. Like dread and excitement expanding into one. "What is it?" she asked apprehensively.

"Your…patella in both knees have averted further from their alignment than we originally thought…"

Faith narrowed her eyebrows. "I know they stick out to the sides, but they always have. What's wrong…" She left the sentence open to be finished. When he didn't, Faith grew irritated. "Please, just tell me," she implored.

The doctor swallowed backwards before speaking, and then said what Faith had had nightmares about hearing for the past two years. "Faith, your kneecaps have gone past the point that therapy can strengthen them." He paused, reverting back to his professional, computerized tone. "Studies have shown that by the time victims of this phenomena are eighteen, their knees lose all elasticity."

Faith swallowed back a tear. "What does that mean?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"It means if steps toward immediate surgery are not taken, by the time you are eighteen you will lose the ability to walk." ....