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Her left foot felt cold.
On her right foot she wore a yellow rain boot, but on the left, just a thin red sock.
14
Mr. K and Dr. P
(Author’s note: Due to strict rules about confidentiality, and to avoid unnecessary embarrassment for those involved, the names of the characters have been omitted from this story. Please don’t try to guess.)
Mr. K headed up the stairs. He wore a paper bag over his head. It was ten o’clock in the morning. All the little brats—as he liked to call them—should be in class, but he wore the paper bag just in case he encountered a stray one.
When he reached the third floor, he tripped over the top step and fell onto the landing.
“I knew I should have cut out some eyeholes,” he said to himself. His knee hurt, but that was the least of his worries. He got back to his feet and limped up the stairs.
Actually, only one eyehole would have helped. His left eye was shut tight. His other eye was wide open. The eyebrow was raised in a constant expression of surprise.
By counting his steps, he knew when he reached the fourth floor. He felt his way to the door, then knocked.
“Yes, who’s there?” asked Dr. P from the other side.
Mr. K did not want to say his name aloud in case anyone was listening. He opened the door and entered.
If Dr. P was surprised to see a person with a bag over his head, he didn’t show it. He had been trained to keep a straight face, no matter what! Whenever someone came to see him, it was part of his job to act like everything was perfectly normal.
“Yes, what seems to be the problem?” he asked, stroking his beard.
Mr. K removed the bag.
“Yikes!” screamed Dr. P, throwing both his hands up in the air.
He quickly regained his composure. “So, why did you come see me?” he asked as he rubbed his beard.
Mr. K made an “uhhhh” noise as he pointed to his face.
“Your face is stuck?” said Dr. P.
Mr. K nodded.
“Please, have a seat.”
Mr. K sat on the couch.
Dr. P came closer to get a better look. He poked a puffed-out cheek. “Does this hurt?” he asked.
Mr. K shook his head.
“How about this?” He tugged on the tip of Mr. K’s tongue.
Again, Mr. K shook his head.
“Very interesting,” said Dr. P.
He walked to the bookshelf. “Hmm . . .” he muttered as he tried to find the book he needed. “This should do it!” he declared, removing a very fat book.
He bonked Mr. K on the top of the head with it.
“Uhh!” exclaimed Mr. K.
