The next morning, Rebecca woke up to see Molly, already up and dressed, eating cereal at the table. Bright sunlight shone through the windows, proving that the storm had departed for other regions.
Becky got up, wrapped her robe around her, and kissed her daughter on the cheek.
"Ready for the day?"
"Yes!" Molly said. Rebecca felt a twinge at what Dr. Gosslin was going to tell her today, but she suppressed it and went and got dressed. Molly had seemingly forgotten completely about yesterday's problems, and she seemed to have no problem getting about, although even now, Becky's trained eye could see where Molly paid just a bit more attention to how she walked.
Later after she'd dressed and made certain Baloo and Kit were ready for the days shipments, she and Molly got in the car, and headed up town to Dr. Gosslin's office. As they got closer, Rebecca started getting nervous. Maybe she should have told Gosslin to sugarcoat the truth a bit. Molly was watching the traffic go by, evidently deep in thought…and Becky hoped that she wouldn't be devastated by the bad—she herself was already thinking of it as "bad"—news. She sighed.
Molly heard her mothers sigh, and bit her lip. Mom was really bad at lying, she'd come to realize. She was even worse at it than Baloo! Something was wrong. Could Dr. Gosslin have found out that she was having a… relapse? The eight year old shivered at the thought, and found herself hoping that the traffic would keep them away from the office, for just a little longer.
No such luck. Molly found herself waiting in the examination room, when Dr. Gosslin came in, her mother sitting by Molly.
"Hello Molly." Dr. Gosslin said, "Ready?"
"Yes!"
"Doctor." Rebecca said, "I have to warn you… Molly tried to walk home from school yesterday."
"Mommy!"
"It's important he knows, sweetie." Gosslin smiled, and turned to Molly.
"And how did it turn out?" Molly sighed.
"I couldn't make it all the way home. Kit had to help me get on his bus," she grumped.
"I'm not surprised—given the rain and the fact that I know few people your age who would walk that far at a single time." He continued, "And how are your legs today?"
"They're…. A little stiff." Molly admitted, the words unwillingly dragged out of her. Gosslin made a note on his file.
"Well, that's to be expected…are you ready for the excercises?" Molly nodded. For the next forty-five minutes, Gosslin put her through a series of excercises, ranging from simple reflex tests to work on the exercise machine that was in the corner, and the treadmill. Molly did them all perfectly, although Gosslin noted by the end that her lips were pressed together in concentration, and there was just a tiny sign of trembling in her legs.
Strength is fine—probably greater than other girls her age, but reflexes and endurance are still below norms, he noted in the file.
"So, when do I get completely better?" Molly asked, bouncing in anticipation. Gosslin and Rebecca shared a glance.
"Molly…that's why I asked you to come here today." He said. "Take a look at this." The doctor continued, holding out a graph. Molly peered at it. "The red line is your improvement."
The red line started off at the bottom. Molly wrinkled her nose when she remembered how terrible that had been. Then it went up slowly, and then shot up. The eight year old looked closer. The last months, it barely moved at all!
"Why isn't it still going up?" Molly asked, with a tone that said she better like the answer.
"Because you're hitting what we call a plateau." Gosslin said, "A period where your improvement slows down." Molly's eyes went wide. This wasn't what she wanted to hear.
"How long?" Molly said, "It's been forever already!"
"For a time." Gosslin said. "But I think the improvement will continue, but slower…but I expect that you'll be almost completely cured by the time you're ten."
Molly's gold star in math came back to haunt her.
"Ten? But that's a quarter as long as I've been alive." She said. Gosslin blinked.
"I didn't think you were so far ahead in math." He said. Molly didn't seem to hear him.
"Two years." The cub breathed. "Isn't there any kind of medicine?" Molly asked, "I don't care how bad it tastes!" Gosslin shook his head.
"I'm sorry, but the only cure is continued exercise." The doctor said. "You will continue to improve," he wanted to stress that, "but don't get discouraged if it seems to go… slower now."
"But if I keep exercising I will get better?" Molly asked.
"Yes." Gosslin said. If only because the exercise will keep you from dwelling on things. He thought. On the other hand, Molly was never one to dwell on the past. She'd proven that over the last two years.
Rebecca spoke to Dr. Gosslin a bit more, both adults very much aware that Molly seemed to be lost in her own thoughts. Molly's distracted goodbye was all she said until she and Rebecca were in the car, heading back to Higher For Hire.
"I'm not quitting." She said, almost to herself. Becky looked over at Molly and smiled.
"Nobody's asking you to, Pumpkin…but." Rebecca paused, "I thought Dr. Gosslin should tell you everything, rather than lie to you about it." Molly nodded.
"Thank you, Mommy." She said. The rest of the drive passed in silence. Becky noticed that Molly had her arms folded together…
Molly fumed. It wasn't fair! She'd done everything, and she was supposed to win. That's how it worked in the shows, at least.
I'll just have to work even harder…I'm not going to be 'moderate', I'm going to make myself better… stupid polio…
***
Later, when Kit and Baloo returned from their flight, Kit saw Molly stalking back and forth on the pier… stumbling once or twice. Becky was there looking, even from a distance, distraught.
"What's goin on?" Baloo asked, and then grimaced, grabbing his chest.
"Baloo?" Kit asked.
"Must have had one too many pinapple fizzies." The bear responded. He shook off the discomfort. "Well, lets see what has Becker's in a twist." As the plane slowed, Kit opened the door, hopped out (after the props were stopped—he'd already suffered through one weeks grounding for doing it the way some other pilots—including Baloo, did.) and secured the plane, hearing Rebecca and Molly talking.
"Molly… you don't have to keep exercising." Becky said, wringing her hands. "You should really stop now." She said, an unexpected note of pleading her voice.
"Just another minute, please?" Molly asked. Becky didn't say no, although Kit could see she desperately wanted to.
"Sweetie…Dr. Gosslin said it was a plateau, not the end…"
"No!" Molly said angrily, "I'm not going to stop! Not for anything!" Kit frowned at that.
I think it's time for some brotherly talk. He thought to himself.
"Ms. Cunningham… I need Molly to help me with something." He said. "Hey Molly, could you come over here?" Kit smiled, putting his arm around Molly, and unnoticed by either of the two adults, holding her in such a way that she was going to go where he wanted her too, steering her off the pier and behind the main building.
"Kit!" Molly said in protest, and then the two were gone. It was a sign of Rebecca's feelings that she didn't even try to stop them. She sagged on the pier.
"Oh, Baloo." She said, "Molly didn't accept what Dr. Gosslin said at all. She's been exercising for the last hour!" Baloo sighed.
"Well, Beckers, it was a bit much for Molly to accept that being who she was…Maybe I'll talk to her." The bear paused, then realized where Kit and Molly had disappeared to.
"Maybe I'll just leave it to Little Britches" He continued. He could use the nick name—Rebecca was the only one in ear shot, so he wouldn't have the…reaction, he'd gotten from Kit the last time he'd forgotten and used it. Quickly, he looked around. Rebecca caught the look.
"Making certain Kit doesn't have any potential girlfriends in tow this time?" Rebecca asked, a ghost of a smile on her face.
"Man, I got an earful after that mistake." Baloo said, then bent over abruptly with a small groan. "I never used to get indigestion like this." He complained, trying to get his breath back. Becky looked concerned.
"Baloo…seriously. You're not 18 anymore."
"Yah don't have to remind me, Beckers…" Baloo said, "I know, trust me, I know." He grinned, "But that doesn't mean 'Ol Baloo shouldn't have fun when he can."
Meanwhile, Kit had gotten Molly around the corner.
"Molly, have you gone nuts?" The teen asked. Molly glared up at him, rubbing her shoulder.
"I'm not going to stop." She said, picking up what Kit was probably annoyed about. "And you can't make me." Kit opened his mouth to yell at her, than stopped.
I couldn't. The 14 year old realized. Trying to meet Molly in head on opposition to something she'd decided she needed to do was like putting a hole in the wall by using your head. Painful and ultimately futile. This required thinking…like the times he'd had to talk Baloo out of some spectacularly stupid get rich quick scheme. Kit thought, then brightened. He knew exactly what to use on Molly.
"Well, OK." Kit said.
"And just because you're 14 and I'm eight, doesn't- huh?" She blinked.
"But," Kit continued, "I hope you don't come down here…It's hard to sleep when Miss Cunningham is crying all night."
"Wha-?"
"Because I mean we both know what's going to happen. You'll exercise to the point where your legs lock up, worse than they did yesterday. Then…" Kit took a deep breath, "Miss Cunningham will have to try and massage it out and you'll scream and cry-"
"I'm not a baby!" Molly said. Kit nodded.
"And you're not…Molly, I'd scream and cry." He said, in utmost seriousness. "We all know how much it hurts." Kit put out a hand and gripped Molly by the shoulder, "And you're probably tougher than any of the kids in high school, but you will cry, Molly. Am I wrong?"
There was a pause.
"No." Molly said, in a quieter voice, looking down at the ground.
"And your mom will have to sit there, listening to you cry, and she won't be able to do anything about it…and after that, she'll go out and sit on the back door and cry herself, because she feels so useless." Molly's anger was dissipating. Kit could see her bite her lower lip.
"But…but, Kit… Dr. Gosslin says it'll be two years." She turned and smacked the side of the building. "It's not fair!" She said in a louder voice. "I want to get better, I'll do anything, so why can't I?" Kit didn't say anything. Molly wasn't saying anything he hadn't thought.
"Molly." He said, "I know… but think of Miss Cunningham." Kit smiled, "I'm not saying you can't exercise more, but keep it…fifteen minutes longer? That's more than you normally do, so it would help you, but it wouldn't be so long that you'd need…" A gesture took in the building, and by extension, the basin and salts inside it. Molly looked up at Kit.
"Fifteen minutes? An hour." The golden bear cub said.
"Thirty minutes." Kit said. Molly thought about it, then looked up at Kit. She really hated the idea of mom crying.
"OK." Molly said.
"Good! Lets' go back." Kit and Molly came back around to the adults, who both looked at him.
"I'm finished, Mommy." Molly said, "I'm only going to exercise thirty minutes longer from now on."
"Oh, that's-that's wonderful sweetie." Becky said, a catch of relief in her voice. She didn't say anything to Kit at that point, but Rebecca made a mental note to find out a way to thank Kit in the next few days. As terrible as the noise would be, he'd had his eye on that trumpet…