Read All That's Missing for Free Online

he’d been counting on Arlo to correct an error, as if he were hoping Arlo would tell him,
Oh, no, my mom’s right down the hall.
    â€œThat’s rough,” Dr. Kessel said. “How do you manage?”
    Arlo shrugged. “We do all right.”
    Dr. Kessel took his time polishing the lenses of his glasses with the bottom of his scrub shirt. “How long have you been taking care of your grandfather?” he asked.
    â€œI don’t really take care of him,” Arlo said. “Poppo takes care of me.”
    â€œMmm-hmmm.” Dr. Kessel held his glasses up to the light, and Arlo saw that he had dozens of tiny wrinkles around his eyes. He had this odd habit of twisting his watchband. Over and back. Over and back. As if he were nervous about something.
    â€œI was thinking you could help me,” he said.
    They were in big trouble if Dr. Kessel thought that Arlo knew how to fix Poppo’s brain.
    â€œPatient history is important. In most cases, families are the best source of information. It would help a lot if I knew how long your grandfather has been . . .”
    Silently Arlo filled in the words.
Confused? Time traveling?
    Dr. Kessel twisted his watchband. “I mean, you know they found him trying to get out of a Dumpster, right?”
    â€œPoppo’s fine. What happened tonight . . . he doesn’t usually do stuff like that.”
    Dr. Kessel scooted to the edge of his chair, balancing his clipboard on his knees. “I’m sure he doesn’t. The thing is . . . your grandfather may not be able to stay by himself in the house anymore. You understand, don’t you?”
    Of
course
Poppo could stay by himself. “He’s only alone while I’m at school,” Arlo said. “And he stays inside mostly. He watches TV and stuff. He never does stuff like he did tonight.”
    â€œI believe you, Arlo. Really. I do.” Dr. Kessel looked straight into Arlo’s eyes. “But something else has happened now. It looks like your grandfather has had a stroke. Do you know what that means?”
    Arlo shook his head.
    Dr. Kessel stretched his neck as if his shirt collar had grown too tight. “It means that blood spilled in his brain,” he said.
    Arlo sucked in his breath. “You mean, like a heart attack?”
    â€œNot exactly.”
    â€œIs he going to be OK?”
    Dr. Kessel looked at Arlo a long time before answering. “I hope so,” he said. “We’re doing everything we can. And your grandfather appears to be a fighter. That always helps.”
    Arlo’s heart thumped. He thought about blood spilling out of vessels in his brain. He thought about waves of blood pumping through Poppo’s head.
    â€œRight now, things are stable,” the doctor said. “That’s a good sign.”
    â€œSo he’ll be all right?” Arlo asked.
    Again the doctor hesitated before answering. “I have to tell you, Arlo, it’s unlikely that he’ll be well enough to be the primary caretaker for a person your age.” Dr. Kessel flipped through the pages on his clipboard. “You’re how old?”
    â€œTwelve,” Arlo said. After a pause, he added, “In a few weeks.”
    â€œI see.” Dr. Kessel kept nodding, which made Arlo’s stomach churn. “You don’t need to worry. The social worker will make sure you’re taken care of while we see how things go with your grandfather.”
    â€œBut I don’t need help.”
    The doctor smiled as he stood up. He clicked his pen shut and slipped it into his shirt pocket. “We’ll talk again tomorrow,” he said. “Meanwhile, you just take it easy and let the social worker help you. OK?”
    â€œBut . . .”
    â€œGood. We’ll take good care of your grandfather. Don’t worry.”
    Dr. Kessel was gone before Arlo could finish his sentence.
    On his way to the bathroom, Arlo heard two nurses talking.
    â€œPoor