The Stupendously Spectacular Spelling Bee Read online

  Levi kept talking to Boo. “Hang in there, little man. And hold on tight, because you’re about to have the ride of your life.”

  They slid the stretcher into the ambulance. India felt Boo’s hand slip away from hers. Dad and Roy squeezed in beside Boo.

  India tried to climb inside, but Levi gently held her back. “Sorry, there’s no room.” He closed the doors and hurried to the cabin.

  “I have to go with him,” India pleaded. “He’s my brother.”

  “I’m sorry,” Levi said, climbing into the driver’s seat. “We’ll see you at Saint Michael’s.”

  Mom pulled India close as the siren blared and the ambulance careened down the street.

  “Don’t worry, India.” Byron hailed a taxi. “You’ll be there just as fast. I promise.”

  Nanna Flo took charge after they scrambled inside the cab. “Saint Michael’s Hospital,” she told the driver. “I’ll give you an extra fifty bucks if you can keep up with that ambulance.”

  The taxi driver smiled. “I’ll do better than that.”

  They swerved through the city streets, following the ambulance with its wailing siren and flashing lights. Cars stopped and pulled out of their way, but each second India was away from Boo felt too long.

  “Do you think he’ll be OK?” she asked Mom.

  Mom would always hold India close at times like this and answer, “Of course he will. You wait and see.” But this time, when Mom began to speak, her voice cracked, like the words were stuck in her throat.

  It was Nanna Flo who said what they all wanted to hear. “Of course he will. He’s a Wimple, and we Wimples never give up. He’s going to be just fine.”

  When the hospital finally appeared, the taxi came to a screeching stop out front, just as the ambulance turned into the entrance. Nanna opened her purse and handed the driver his money.

  “Keep it,” he said. “Buy the little one a present when he’s better.”

  “Thank you.” Nanna Flo gently squeezed his arm. “I will.”

  The paramedics wheeled Boo out of the ambulance and rushed him through the hospital doors with Dad running alongside the stretcher. The Wimples scrambled closely behind.

  “We’re here, Boo,” Dad puffed. “We’re right here.”

  The paramedics raced down the corridor until they reached the doors of the children’s unit.

  Levi turned and said, “We can only allow the parents inside.”

  India and Nanna stood panting, worry lining their faces.

  “We’ll be back soon,” Dad promised, and he and Mom disappeared inside.

  India craned her neck and saw Boo’s pale face between the closing doors before they slowly blocked him from view.

  India never thought it was possible for a perfectly normal heart to hurt, but seeing Boo’s small body on that stretcher made her heart feel as if it were being trampled.

  Nanna Flo gently took her hand.

  They sat in their pajamas and fluffy hotel slippers opposite the doors.

  And they waited.

  • • •

  The clock above the doors ticked in an endless rhythm, making each second feel long and drawn out.

  Tick, tick, tick.

  Stretchers sailed past, nurses pushed patients in wheelchairs, and anxious relatives searched for loved ones.

  Tick, tick, tick.

  India watched the doors, and each time they opened, she willed it to be Dad.

  Tick, tick, tick.

  When he finally appeared, India jumped from her chair into his arms. “How is he?”

  Dad’s hair was ruffled and his eyes were red. “He’s a real champion. Stayed calm the whole time and did exactly what the doctors said.”

  “When can we see him?” Nanna Flo asked.

  “Soon. They’re running a few tests.” Dad’s voice was strained and small.

  “Is he going to be OK?” India asked.

  Dad held her tight. “Levi says he’s in good hands. I have to go.” He kissed her head and again disappeared through the doors.

  India and her family had been in hospitals with Boo many times, but the moments when they had to wait for doctors—to hear their diagnosis, to hear if Boo was going to make it—were the hardest.

  And this was the worst yet.

  Their minds would race with what the doctors would say. What if it was bad news? What if this time was different? What if…

  Nanna broke through her worried thoughts.

  “He’s a Wimple,” she repeated sternly, “and we Wimples never give up. He’s going to be just fine.”

  But there was something in her voice similar to Dad’s—a slight flicker of uncertainty. She clenched her teeth, trying to hold back tears.

  India had never seen Nanna Flo cry before, at least not since Grandpop’s funeral, but there it was—a small tear falling down her cheek. India reached up and wiped it away.

  India took her hand. “You’re right, Nanna. He is going to be fine.”

  • • •

  “Wimple family?”

  Nanna and India got to their feet and stood again in a tight penguin huddle, preparing themselves for what might happen next.

  The doctor spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. “It was a particularly bad flare-up, and it will take him some time to fully recover, but Boo’s quite a little fighter. He’s going to be fine.”

  “He’s going to be fine?” Nanna repeated, just to make sure.

  “Yes.” When the doctor smiled, his mustache curled up, so it seemed to be smiling too.

  Then Nanna did something she wasn’t supposed to do—she threw her skinny arms around the doctor and hugged him. “Thank you.” Her muffled voice rose from his lab coat. “Thank you so much.”

  Nanna stayed like that for a few moments until she eventually pulled away. “Sorry.”

  Luckily the doctor didn’t seem to mind. “That’s OK. I’d probably do the same if it were my grandson. He’ll be a little groggy from the medication and tired after being so unwell, so we’re going to keep him for a few days, just to be safe.”

  “Can we see him?” India couldn’t stand the idea that Boo was in a hospital room without all the Wimples around him.

  “Absolutely, but he needs to rest.”

  Nanna and India were led through the doors and into the noisy hubbub of the children’s ward until they came to Boo’s room. They poked their heads inside, and, without meaning to, India gasped.

  Boo looked pale and small. His head lolled to the side a little, as if it were too heavy to hold, and there was an oxygen tube beneath his nose.

  Her heart again felt trampled, like a boot was stomping on her chest.

  Mom and Dad gave India a hug, which made her want to cry.

  Boo is going to be fine, she scolded herself. He’s a Wimple, and we Wimples never give up.

  India walked to his bedside, stepping as quietly as possible, and heard his raspy breathing.

  She tried to stop it, but a single tear dripped onto Boo’s hand. She quickly dabbed it away with her sleeve. She didn’t allow herself to cry when Boo was sick. She never wanted him to know that she was worried or that she thought he may never come back.

  She reached out and took his hand.

  She wanted Boo to know that she was there, and she wasn’t going anywhere.

  24

  Castigation

  (noun):

  Chastisement, scolding, seriously criticized.

  Everyone was shocked to hear such a stern castigation.

  India stood beside Boo’s bed, holding his hand, waiting for the smallest sign that he was going to wake up, when Dad tiptoed to her side.

  “You’ve been standing for hours,” he said softly. “You should get some rest.”

  India shook her head. “I have to be here when Boo w
akes up.”

  Nanna Flo was snoring in a chair, and Mom was asleep with her head on Nanna’s shoulder.

  Dad kept his voice low. “But you must be tired.”

  “He has to know I’m here,” she snapped. But then knew she shouldn’t have. It wasn’t Dad’s fault—none of this was. She was angry that her little brother was sick.

  And she was scared.

  They watched as Boo’s chest rose and fell and listened to the whirring of the machine helping him breathe.

  Dad wrapped his arms around India and kissed her on the head. “I’m sorry life has been so hard the last few years and that things haven’t worked out quite like we expected, but you have to know how much I love being dad to you and Boo.” India looked up and saw Dad’s eyes shiny with tears. “I look at you both every day and wonder what I did to deserve you.”

  India tried to speak, but it was like the words got tangled in her throat.

  “We make a good team, us Wimples, don’t you think?”

  India nodded, feeling even worse that she’d snapped at Dad, when Boo’s eyes began to open.

  “Boo?” She moved closer.

  His eyes flickered. “You look terrible.” His voice was scratchy.

  India laughed. Her hair was a straggly mess and her pajamas were twisted and crumpled. “How kind of you to notice.”

  Dad stroked his cheek. “Hey, little man.”

  Mom woke at the sound of Dad’s voice and shook Nanna’s shoulder. “He’s awake.” They flew over to the bed and Mom gently gave Boo a teary kiss.

  “You’re back,” she said.

  Nanna’s curlers flopped around her head. “Boy, did we miss you.”

  Boo was confused. “Did I have another flare-up?” he croaked.

  “You sure did,” Dad said, “and it was a doozy, but you’re fine now.”

  Boo tried to think back, but it was all a blur. “What happened?”

  “We were at the hotel,” India said.

  “And you were about to get into the shower,” Mom added.

  “I was getting ready for the bee,” Boo remembered. Then he realized something else and turned to India. “Is the competition over? Did you win?”

  “It hasn’t started,” India said. “But don’t worry. I’m not going.”

  “What?” He dug his hands into the bed and tried to sit up, but his arms weren’t strong enough. “You have to go,” he wheezed.

  India shook her head. “I’m staying here with you.”

  “Unless you became a doctor since I last saw you, there’s nothing you can do.”

  “The competition doesn’t matter.”

  “It does matter.” He was tired and his breathing was heavy. “You made it to the grand final.”

  “But I—”

  “India Wimple.” Boo’s voice was still weak, but India could tell he was cranky. “You listen to me. You’ve spent your whole life looking after me.”

  “Yes, but—” India started to object when Boo held up a finger.

  “I haven’t finished.”

  India closed her mouth and listened. In all the years her brother had been sick, in all the rushing to the hospital and all the tubes and doctors and late-night flare-ups, she’d never once seen him annoyed, even a little bit.

  “I know you don’t leave your door open at night because you worry about escaping if there’s a fire.” He paused to catch his breath. “I know you don’t say no to sleepovers because you’d miss Mom and Dad, and I know you sneak into my room at night to check that I’m still breathing.”

  “You do?” Mom asked.

  “Not every night,” India mumbled.

  Boo coughed and wheezed but wasn’t about to stop.

  “And then there are the times when you wake up on the floor beside me instead of in your own warm bed.”

  “Yes, but I don’t mind.”

  “India.” He fixed her with a stern look. “How many times have you sat by a hospital bed waiting for me to wake up? You are not going to sit beside this bed and miss the one chance in your life to let everyone know that I have the best, cleverest sister in the whole world.”

  Boo had never, ever been stubborn about anything in his whole life, but suddenly he was very, very good at it. “So go to the opera house now and spell like you’ve never spelled before.”

  India sighed. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m more than sure,” he breathed. “I’m kicking you out.”

  She looked at the clock on the wall. “But it starts in twenty minutes. I’ll never get there in time.”

  “We might.” Dad rubbed his chin, as if he were concocting a plan. “We just need to get there fast.”

  “How’s our patient?” It was Levi from the ambulance.

  “I’m good,” Boo said, still very wheezy, “but now my sister has an emergency.”

  “Asthma?” Levi asked, ready to leap into action.

  “No.” Mom shook her head. “A spelling emergency.”

  Levi was confused.

  “Do you know the Stupendously Spectacular Spelling Bee?” Nanna Flo asked.

  “I loved that show!” Levi’s eyes widened. “I used to dream about being the champion.”

  “Well, you could be looking at the next champion right now,” Dad said, “because India has made it to the grand final.”

  “Really? Congratulations!”

  “Yes,” Mom said, “but it starts in twenty minutes.”

  Boo tried to look his cutest. “And we don’t know how she’s going to get there in time.”

  The Wimples were always at their best when they worked as a team, and this was some of their finest work yet.

  Levi looked at his watch. “It’s my dinner break—I can get you there!” He lowered his voice. “Just don’t tell anyone. Who’s in?”

  “I’ll come!” Dad cried.

  Levi rattled his keys. “Let’s go!”

  “Thanks, Boo.” India smiled.

  “You’re welcome. Good-luck hug?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “You’ll be great, sis,” he whispered. “I know it.”

  Dad quickly kissed Boo, Mom, and Nanna Flo. He grabbed India’s hand and called over his shoulder, “Tell the opera house we’re on our way. Then turn on the TV—you’re about to see a new champion!”

  25

  Emergency

  (adjective):

  Crisis, dilemma, a really urgent situation.

  The situation was an emergency of epic proportions.

  The red lights of the ambulance blazed as it sped through the city streets, swerving in and out of traffic.

  India and Dad were in the back, holding on tightly.

  “Do you think we’ll make it?” India asked.

  Dad looked a little pale. “Of course we will, sweetheart. These guys are experts in getting places fast. In fact…” He became a shade paler as the ambulance lurched around another corner. “I think I might lie down.”

  He sank onto the stretcher and gripped his stomach while the siren continued to blare above them. Levi blasted the horn and cars quickly pulled out of the way. He let out a loud “Yee-haw!” when he spotted the Sydney Opera House. “Thar she blows!”

  The ambulance sped toward the white sails and swooped into the undercover entrance before slamming on the brakes and skidding to a halt. Levi opened the doors, and he and India helped Dad onto solid ground.

  “Oh, that feels better.” Dad doubled over and rested his hands on his knees, not completely sure he wasn’t going to be horribly sick.

  “Thank you,” India said to Levi.

  “My pleasure. I’ll be cheering for you, India.”

  “Coming, Dad?”

  “You go inside. I’ll be there as soon as I find my stomach.”

  India kissed him on th
e cheek. “I love you.”

  Dad wore a small smile. “And that makes me feel better already. Now go!”

  “India!” It was Arlo. “You made it! Now, let’s get you to that grand final.” Arlo led the way once again through the long, crowded corridors. “Stand aside! Security coming through!”

  When they reached the dressing room, Arlo held up two fists. “Go get ’em, India Wimple.”

  Trudy had been waiting for India, but her relieved smile instantly fell when she saw what India was wearing. “We’ll need to do something about those clothes.” It was only then that India remembered she was still in her pajamas.

  “I’ve got just the thing.”

  Trudy rifled through a clothes rack and selected a dress. India quickly changed and turned to the mirror. It was a pink silk dress that rippled just above her knee and made India feel as if she were staring at somebody else.

  After brushing her hair and applying a quick dab of face powder, Trudy leaned over India’s shoulder and whispered, “It’s time to show those other kids how it’s done.”

  Trudy led India down a hallway to the wings of the Concert Hall stage. The air was alive with excitement. The crew was doing final lighting and camera checks, and the contestants were chatting nervously or cramming in a last-minute practice.

  India had lined up behind the other contestants, catching her breath, when Rajish spotted her.

  “You’re here!” he said. “I looked everywhere but couldn’t find you.”

  “Boo’s in the hospital.”

  “Why? Is he OK?”

  “He had an asthma attack.” This was the first time India had said it out loud, and it made her want to cry. “It was bad, but he’s going to be fine.”

  “I’m glad.” His face lifted into a wide Rajish smile.

  India smiled too. She felt instantly better.

  Her hand automatically reached for her pocket, just as it did before every round, until she realized something terrible. “Oh no!”

  “What is it?” Rajish asked.

  “I don’t have my lucky hanky.”

  “You have a lucky hanky?”

  “Nanna Flo gave it to me. It was her dad’s—my great-grandfather’s. I left it at the hotel.”