“Zing is a nickname, right? What’s your real name? I want to know so I can report your ass to your supervisor,” Carol said.
“My real name is Zing.”
“What the hell kind of name is that? You a foreigner or something?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes. Where I come from we get to name ourselves. I chose Zing because it sounds so. . . zingy.”
“Just what I thought,” Carol said. “A frickin’ nut job.”
“Don’t call her that,” Nell said. “She’s been very nice to me.”
“So, she’s a nice nut job,” Carol said. She sat on the edge of Nell’s bed and frowned down at her friend. “You gave me quite the scare, you know that? How the hell did you manage to fall into a manhole anyhow?”
“She wasn’t paying attention where she was walking,” Zing said.
“Were you there when it happened?” Carol asked.
“I was supposed to be there to prevent it. My bad,” Zing said.
“Yeah, okay…” Carol rolled her eyes.
“I was looking at my phone instead of watching where I was going,” Nell said.
“What was so interesting that you had to look at it right then when you were supposed to be watching where you were going?” Carol asked in a tone of voice that said she already knew the answer.
“I was texting Dove. We were arguing. She still won’t meet me in person.” She sniffled and continued weakly, “I don’t know, maybe she’s done with me. She is a novelist after all. I’m sure lots of fangirls offer themselves up to her. She’s beautiful and talented and who am I? I make donuts. Maybe she doesn’t want to meet me because I’m not worthy.” She burst into tears.
Zing pulled out another tissue for Nell, but Carol tore it out of her hand and gave it to Nell.
At that moment, a short, bald man with a noticeable PBN—‘pot belly noted’—walked into the room. His nametag read Dr. Stein. “Ah, I’m glad to see you’re awake. You should have pressed the nurse’s call button, but no matter.” Carol moved from the bedside, giving the doctor room. She intentionally stood in front of Zing, blocking her access to Nell.
Dr. Stein took Nell’s pulse, listened to her heart, and noted both on the chart. “Everything is looking good so far.”
Zing waved at Nell over Carol’s shoulder to get her attention. She mouthed, “Tell him you pooped.”
Nell nodded that she understood.
The doctor looked up from the chart and asked, “Have you gone to the bathroom yet?”
“Yes, and I pooped,” Nell said proudly.
Zing gave Nell a big thumbs-up.
“Good, good.” Dr. Stein scribbled some more on the chart. “Do you feel well enough to go home?”
“I do.”
“Then you shall. Can your friends help you out for a bit just to make sure you’re functioning at full capacity?”
Zing’s arm shot up in the air. “I can. I can help!”
“I don’t think so,” Carol said, pushing Zing back. “I’ve got this. I’m sure Zing has other patients to read to.” She picked up Zing’s volume of The Guardian Angel’s Handbook. She glanced at the title and made a face. “Yeah, I really think you should stay away from Nell.” She shoved the book at Zing and pushed Zing toward the door.
Nell saw Zing’s face drop. She offered, “Zing, why don’t you stop by the bakery tomorrow and I’ll give you some donuts. You know, for helping me out.”
“Thank you. I’ve never had a donut. I’d like to try one.”
“Bye,” Nell said.
“Bye.”
“Good riddance,” Carol muttered.
Zing walked out the door with the book under her arm. She had twenty-three hours left on earth to make amends with Nell. That was plenty of time to enjoy a donut or two.
Chapter Two
After leaving the hospital Zing didn’t know what to do with herself. She strolled down the street in her pink outfit. It was a sunny day. She liked the feel of the warm sunshine on her face. She saw a park so she headed that way. The grass looked green and smelled fresh. Smells were a new thing to her. The hospital smelled funny and not very nice.
She crossed the street, careful to avoid manholes and fast cars. She remembered that Miracle—she was Annabelle’s human— had almost gotten hit by a car while trying to save a stray dog. Thank God, Annabelle had saved her and the dog, too. To date, Annabelle had saved Miracle from 32 fatalities involving cars, trains, airplanes, white water rapids, soap in the shower, an avalanche, a ski jump, three motorcycles, and a curling iron. Miracle was not only a daredevil, but she was klutzy. That’s why they nicknamed her Miracle—because it was a miracle she was still alive. Her real name was Sheila.