Excerpt of Braced2Bite by Serena Robar

I obediently followed Aunt Chloe and Mom into the spare bedroom and sat down on the bed. Aunt Chloe searched through her bag and pulled out a few items. Blood pressure wrist band, stethoscope, thermometer, a large baggie filled to the rim with pill bottles that rattled around when she dropped them on the bed.

“Where did I put it?” she mumbled to herself and Mom and I shared a look. Mom patted my hand reassuringly and I smiled at her.

“Aha, here it is!” Aunt Chloe said triumphantly, brandishing a large magnifying glass in her hand.

“Now dear, let’s get a good look at your neck. Where were you pinched?”

I was relieved she wanted to start there. I had no doubt if Dad was in charge, he would want to know if I had been molested in some way and getting an OB/GYN exam by my great, great Aunt was not my idea of a good time.

I pulled my hair to the side and showed her the spot.

“Marilyn, could you get me a warm washcloth so we can clean up her neck a little bit?”

Mom jumped to do her bidding, anxious to be helping in any small way. When my neck was relatively dirt free, my aunt gazed at it through the looking glass and made a lot of hmmm and ahh sounds.

She pointed out a bruise to my mother where I was pinched and then identified two small incision marks, barely visible in the bruise.

My mother looked down at her hand, the one I sucked on and showed it to my Great Aunt. She proceeded to tell her what I did when I entered the kitchen. I squirmed in my seat, wishing I could run away and hide. I hear people do really odd things when they are in shock, but I doubted they nibbled on their mother’s hand and helped themselves to a blood cocktail.

Then Aunt Chloe wrapped a wide medical gadget on my wrist and turned it on.

“What’s this?” I asked curiously, my wrist getting squeezed uncomfortably.

“It’s my blood pressure band. It helps me keep track of my high blood pressure. It’s why I need those pills.” She gestured to the overflowing baggie.

I nodded and looked at the large digital face of the wrist band, which stayed suspiciously blank.

“Is it broken?” I asked when the LED registered only one pulse the entire time it was on my wrist.

“Don’t think so. Marilyn, let’s do you.” She took the cuff off of me and put it on my mom.

Mom’s reading showed an unusually high blood pressure which was understandable considering the situation and a decent pulse rate.

They both looked at the cuff, then me, pursing their lips in speculation. At that moment, I saw the family resemblance perfectly.

“Let’s take her temperature,” Mom suggested as she picked up an ancient-looking thermometer. She took it into the spare bathroom to wash. She walked back shaking the mercury down and put it under my tongue.

I sat obediently, the glass stick placed awkwardly under my tongue. After a minute, they read the thermometer and then stared at me strangely.

“98 point 6?” I asked hopefully.

“Uh, no,” my mom replied, less than helpful.

Aunt Chloe took her stethoscope out and listened to my heart and lungs. She nodded in satisfaction, putting her tools of the trade back in the bag. She took her time tidily arranging all of her things. Mom sat down next to me again and held my hand. When Aunt Chloe was done straightening things up, she stood up and made her medical prediction.

“Well, technically you’re dead,” she announced with flourish.