The New Theresa (1)

Kimmie had asked Harmony to take care of the exit examination of Theresa to make sure that Theresa was fit to tackle the long flight to South Africa. Jane was doing the exam because Meko had gone to a conference. The conference was called “Disjointed Arms: Techniques and Therapy!” Meko had repaired many an arm and was not sure what exciting new techniques the exclamation point implied. But she needed some credits to keep her certification up to date. Carlisle had gone along to keep her company.
Harmony read off the questions as Jane did the exam and Pat sat at the desk and wrote down the results. Cavendish had also dropped in to get away from the gloomy and damp weather outdoors and was lying on the desktop.
“How do you feel Theresa?” Pat asked.
“I feel fine Pat, just a bit light headed, I expect its all the excitement.”
“We will just double check to make sure everything is OK. Move your arms, please,” Jane said to Theresa, who obliged.

“Check armature,” read Harmony.
“Move your arms, please,” Jane said to Theresa, who obliged. “Can you put them behind your back?”
“I think so.” Theresa put her arms behind her back.
“Looks good,” said Jane. “Now move your legs.”
Just then Jessie came by with a box. “Theresa, I heard you are going to the Tumbling Twinns,” she said. “Would you please take this box to my sister, Skye?”

“Sure,” said Theresa. “Just set it over there.”
“Thanks,” said Jessie. “And tell her that Leah and I send her our love and we are sorry for the messup with the tiara, we hear she spent some time locked up at the airport and ended up watching a 36 hour Titanic festival on TV.”
The door opened once again and Clinton waddled in. “Hello, girls!” Clinton’s voice was somewhat muffled by the bag of candy in his mouth. He set it on the carpet.

“Theresa, I heard you are going to South Africa. Would you send this to my friend Sally, please? And remember my fellow Americans, if you are still here on the 22nd, don’t forget to vote for Hillary in the primary election.”
“Clinton, we keep telling you we are too young to vote,” laughed Harmony.
“You could dress up,” suggested Clinton hopefully. “Wear a lot of eye shadow or something in the cause of democracy.”
“We’ll do our best,” said Jane. “Now if we could get back to the exam.”
“Eyes,” read Harmony from her list.
Jane looked at Theresa’s eyes with a little flashlight. “They look good, and so do her eyelashes,” she added.
“Eyes equal and responsive,” said Pat, writing it down. “I heard that on a medical show on TV. I always wanted to say that.”
A rumbling was heard in the distance. Cavendish opened his eyes. “Randy,” he said, and closed them again.
“Randy?” Theresa asked, “I am not sure if I have one of those.”
“No no, it’s Randy, the doyen of the powertool set. When I worked for the forestry department…” Cavendish droned, always ready to tell a story about his colourful past exploits.
Sure enough, Randy came rolling up with his wagon and came in the side door, carrying a stack of doll stands. “These need to go over to South Africa with Theresa,” he announced. “Special order to the Bossman.”
“It is going to be mighty uncomfortable if I have to be poked with those things all the way,” Theresa complained.
“We’ll put some extra socks in the anesthesia cone,” Jane promised.

“They come apart,” explained Randy, demonstrating. “So it shouldn’t be too bad. Also, would you take these comics to Dawn and this?” He pulled a rather battered Valentine out of his pocket and showed it to Pat.
“That Valentine has seen better days, in fact it’s seen better pockets too. Were you keeping it in the same pocket as your candy bars?” asked Pat. “Go right back to the office and get a new one from Jin Ran.”

“OK, I’ll be back, don’t go away until I get back” Randy said sheepishly.
Libby arrived with a sheaf of papers in her arms. “Here are the customs forms, Pat,” she announced. “Kimmie asked me to bring them. You will need to make five copies and weigh everything that’s going over.”

“Nobody said I would have to be weighed,” said Theresa, looking upset. Like all females, she hated having to get on the scale.
“Don’t worry, Theresa, we all weigh the same thing, five pounds. In fact, I have written a poem about it. Pat stood up and recited her poem…

Whether you’re fat or whether you’re thin
You weigh five pounds when you’re a Twinn.”

Quinn and Hayley stopped by and joined in the applause for Pat. “You are a regular Robert Frost, Pat,” said Hayley. “Listen, Theresa, would you give this to Virginia when you get to South Africa, please? It’s a Madison dollar.”
“So now you Madisons are coining your own currency?” asked Harmony.
Hayley laughed. “It is actually James Madison, but that sounds like a good idea. I will have to bring it up the next time we meet.”
“And would you give this money to Jenni? We owe her for some fortune cookies,” added Quinn, handing Theresa some coins.

“Hold it!” shouted Libby. “Coins; banknotes; paper money; traveler’s checks; platinum, gold, and silver (manufactured or not); precious stones and jewelry are prohibited in packages to South Africa.”
“Don’t worry, Libby, we will put them in this origami heart from the Valentine party and put it in the box from Jessie. The customs officials will never know.”
“Oh great, now I will be living a life of crime along with everything else,” Theresa commented. The pile of things going to South Africa was getting bigger. She looked at it apprehensively. “How am I going to remember who gets all this stuff? I don’t know anybody’s name over there. I’ve already forgotten who gets the box. Leah? Sally?”
“Jane,” said Bethany, coming up with two dresses in her arms, “I just came from the sewing department. Heather ordered these. Can they go in the box with Theresa?”

“Might as well,” said Jane. “We can use them to cushion the wires from the stands.”
“Here are the chocolates we promised.” Taryn and Penny came with a basket of little candy bars.

“Don’t worry, Theresa,” said Pat, “I will make a list of who gets what that you can take with you.” She turned to a clean page in her steno book.
Theresa looked from the pile of goodies to Pat and back again. “Ow, now my head really hurts.” she said and slowly crumpled to the ground.

“Oh dear,” said Jane. She checked Theresa with her stethoscope. “It looks as if her head has become detached,” Jane diagnosed. “Pat, clear off the bed. I think the three of us can move her over there. I wonder how we can get in touch with Meko. I am not certified to do a head repair by myself. Meko left her beeper with me so I can’t beep her.”
“Excuse me, Miss Jane,” said Cavendish modestly. “Perhaps I can help. The lads at Ye Olde Croc and Keg tease Carlisle about how he always has his cell phone with him. Perhaps you could ring him. Good communication is vital in the foreign office you know”
“Cavendish, you are a genius!” Jane kissed Cavendish on his head. “I didn’t realize Carlisle had a cell phone.”
“Oh yes, he is always checking his stock portfolio or sending text messages to other crocs. He even got a cell phone for his mother at the zoo so he could check in with her. Personally I prefer Telex, there is something about those chattering machines gets my blood going”

© DRW, JE Sturgis. 2008-2018. Moved to blog 23/04/2015

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