Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
I turned the page. “And the rabbit found the lit lantern.”
The kids cheered. Several of the injured parents clapped.
The little girl next to me tapped my knee. “Again please.”
Other kids bobbed their heads.
I raised my eyebrows. “Are you sure? This would be the third time.”
One boy begged. “Please. So good.”
I chuckled. “Alright. Let’s see if the rabbit still finds the lantern on this third read.”
Several of the kids chuckled.
The nurse closest to me smiled. “Everyone say thank you, Tiger.”
The kids gave me half-bows. “Thank you, Mrs. Tiger!”
A phone rang at the nurses' station.
I turned the page. "Long ago, on the far side of the moon, there lived a small white rabbit."
The little girl gave me the biggest smile.
"Every night, the rabbit lit a paper lantern and hung it high in the sky. The light of that lantern was what people on earth called the moon."
"The moon!" a boy called out from the bed to my left. He was too pleased with himself.
A second phone rang at a different desk with a higher pitch.
A young nurse in blue crossed the room in three quick steps, picked up the receiver, listened, and set it back in its cradle with two fingers. She smoothed her palm down the front of her scrubs, turned her face toward the double doors, and held it there for one full second before she moved.
"It was the rabbit's job." I turned the page and showed the kids the pictures, "and he loved his job, because his light helped fishermen find their boats, and travelers find their roads, and children find their way home before bedtime."
The double doors at the far end of the ward swung open.
Two men I had never seen walked in carrying a folded cot between them.
Two more men followed in with more cots. They all had black suits on with black gloves. They lined the cots against the wall in a neat row and stood shoulder to shoulder with their hands folded at their belts, waiting.
What the hell is going on?
I kept reading. "One night, the wind came up strong. The paper lantern shivered."
The kids leaned forward. They knew what came next.
"Then, the paper lantern blew out."
A small gasp rose from three beds at once. The little girl at my knee pressed her hand flat to the blanket the way she always did when the lantern went dark.
A doctor at the far end took a call. He listened with his head bent. He wrote one line on the chart at the foot of the bed, capped his pen, and slid it into his breast pocket.
"The rabbit was very sad."
The doctor walked to the mother in the chair beside the bed and crouched to her level. He put a hand on her wrist and spoke three sentences.
She gasped, quickly nodded, and stood.
Huh?
The two men in black lifted her son onto a cot and wheeled him out.
I flipped the page. "Without his lantern, the fishermen would be lost at sea.”
Then, several more men in black suits entered with cots.
“And the travelers would be lost in the mountains.”
The new men began helping other injured out of their beds and placing them onto the cots.
Is the war over?
I cleared my throat. “And the children would be afraid of the dark."
The little girl at my knee tapped the back of my hand. "I’m scared of the dark."
My throat went dry. “Sometimes I am too.”
Three kids in front widened their eyes in shock.
Another phone rang, but this time it was one of the mothers. Then a fourth phone rang. Then a fifth from somewhere behind me.
And a sixth.
My hand tightened on the spine of the book.
What the fuck is going on?
The senior nurse—the one with silver at her temples—clapped her hands once, and every other nurse in the room turned toward her at the same instant. She pointed at three beds in sequence, and the other nurses peeled off toward them.
And then even more men entered as the earlier men pushed injured away.
They’re clearing the room. Why?
On the right, a doctor pointed at the IV pole beside me and made a lifting motion with her fingers, and the nurse closest untangled the line with her teeth in her lower lip and freed the bag in six seconds flat.
"So the rabbit climbed down from the moon on a long silver rope."
The nurse walked to the grandfather slumped against the wall by his daughter's bed. She touched his elbow and then spoke into his ear.
His head came up slowly. He looked at his granddaughter. Tears left his eyes. He wiped his face with the flat of his hand and quickly stood.
“And the rabbit set his small paws on the earth, and he began to look for a spark to light his lantern again."
My pulse tapped against the side of my neck.
Two more beds emptied on my left.