Cyber Kittens and Cowboys by Ipam (books to read for 12 year olds txt) 📕

alive and being treated by physician. The physician wouldneed all her documents including birth certificate. Brilliant. So,this is her, the right one.”

Pamela back tracks to “first” name &locates end of file document seeing birth certificate also.

“Back to step 1.” She mews, painfully &double checks end of files verifying all possess Ashley Slanton’sbirth certificate. “Which one is she?” She eye burns floor thenscreen. She can’t stand her all night searching & hears,distancely noises probably cleaning staff doing their jobs whilethe patients are sleeping.

Her certificate looks really weird withyellow bunnies wearing purple clothes playing with balloons.“Keepsake Birth Certificate.” Pamela whispers, softly. Thesedocuments are intended for framing and display in the child’s roominstead of using the State of Alabama original format with all theboxes of crowded information containing home address, city, state,zip code, hospital address and contact data and other uselessstuff.

State of Alabama Certificate of Birth

Ashley Louise Barnell

…born on March 11, 1987 in JeffersonCounty at 2:12 pm to loving parents…

“Blab, blab…her parents.” Pamela moans,baby-tonish. She flips back to “first” Ashley & accesses thatparticular birth certificate showing same silly yellow bunnieswearing purple clothes. She reads, silently then re-reads,again.

“Jefferson County at 11:20 pm. Hold on!”Pamela talks, excitedly & flips to “fourth” Ashley. She wasbirthed at 2:12 pm. This one is birthed at 11:20 pm. She eye burnswall & ponders, deeply. “Birth times are different. I found myclue but which birth time is correct.”

Pamela digs, carefully for Ashley’s obit& re-reads, silently discovering no birth time. “Of course not,dummy.” She re-reads CIA string of numbers and characters.

TAG 307891116540 Slanton Ashley

She has used part of the CIA string“307891116” & has converted into March 11, 1987. That means,6540 is backwards for her birth time, translating into 04:56.“Found it!” She echoes, loudly then neck snaps around emptyhallway. She returns to screen & checks “second” Ashley who isbirthed on 8:37 am.

Pamela whispers, softly & grins, toothy.“Fake and flaunting it, baby.” She presses, quickly the “third” andhopefully “real” Ashley Slanton. The birth certificate matches 4:56am to CIA string of 04:56. “Gotta love military time.” Militarytime is the concise method of expressing time used by military,emergency services of law enforcement, firefighters and nurses. Themilitary operates off a 24-hour clock, beginning at midnight (whichis 0000 hours). So, 1:00 a.m. is 0100 hours, 2:00 a.m. is 0200hours and so-on.

Voices sounds, lightly. Footfalls move,nosily. Wheels squeak, loudly.

“Cleaning staff.” Pamela talks, alarmingly& checks time: 12:30 am. “Shift change…” She moans, softly.

She back tracks to demographical paper &scribbles first words of address then stops, suddenly. “Fake, it’sall fake but not her physician.” Ashley’s alive and based on allthe different kinds of fake medical records is being treatedmedically for something. Thurston was killed so, maybe shoot-outwith real guns and bullets.

She paws, quickly through the details ofclinical procedures from blood tests to X-rays, then medical notesfor any useful information. She notes, rapidly nine differentphysician names while scribbling down on notepad in clear handwriting since she can’t print any hard copies of electronic medicalfiles.

Voices sounds, heavy. Footfalls move,closely. Wheels squeak, nosily. “

“Hospital staff…” Pamela moans, baby-tonish.She pokes computer to page 24 reading last page of medical notesfrom top bar detailing:

Psychological treatment prescribed by DaleKirby, Elisa Wissa and Toma Brown.

Pamela scripts, rapidly names ofpsychologists onto notepad, then shuts down computer by slappingthe power button. She drops, quickly on fours, knees & palms,dragging her small backpack as hospital personnel move againstopposite wall. She crawls, forwardly toward hallway against wall,then turns left into smaller corridor. She leans, heavily againstwall & bends, worm-like into open hallway searching forstaffers. Clear!

She stands, swiftly & patrols, quietlytowards stairwell for freedom then departs, happily for new searchof Ashley’s “real” medical physician.

Time: 9:52 am. Friday. Dale Kirby, MD. 1730Oxmoor Road, Homewood, Alabama. Sunny. 98*F.

She finds, slowly correct physician officebuilding located on Oxmoor Road in Homewood after spending $6.75dialing wrong telephone numbers and answering rude grouchysecretary questions while pretending to be Ashley & inquiringabout her next clinical session.

Pamela enters, bravely private nice plushcooled air/conditioned beige/gold reception room with two shortpadded benches, freshly trimmed green tree plants & emptyreceptionist chair. She sits, quietly & types on terminalverifying Ashley’s appointment at 10am. Good!

Knock! Knock! Pamela enters, slowlyoffice, eye burning messy desk, homey bookcase, crowded wall ofmedical awards, comfortable long couch.

“Dr. Kirby.” Pamela greets in flute soprano,friendly. “I’m a new patient. There’s no one at the desk. Are youhere, Dr. Kirby?” She moves, swiftly into office, ponders, deeply.“Not here, coffee lover, too.” She shuffles back into lobby atreceptionist desk. Computer is booted. No patients in waitingarea.

Pamela re-enters small cramped room withoutwindows, poking around desk, then notes two visually painted beigedoors on opposite sides of room. She opens door on her left, firstseeing reams of stairs. “Escape hatch. Noted.” Pamela mumbles insoprano flute, giggles, lightly.

She slides, gently to right, opens, gentlydoor, gasps, nosily.

Girl greets, friendly, eye burns sofa. “Hi,Dr. Dale. Tammy’s not at her desk.”

She slams, nosily door. Pamela body twists tosee petite blonde hair girl walk-in toward long sofa. She sits,nosily at desk, turns desk lamp toward edge of desk, disguising herodd appearance. Girl doesn’t notice.

Girl lays, sideways on long sofa, bushes flipflops onto carpet, measures lengthwise entire body as toes massageend of arm and arms crossed over her chest, breathing regular.

Pamela charges, boldly in bass flute. “Goodmorning, sit down…lie down. Good. Let’s begin...”

Girl talks, calmly, eye burns ceiling ofsmall office. “Thurston exploded, yesterday. I have not receivedany news from hospital. Is he okay, doctor?”

1 second.

2 seconds.

3 seconds.

Pamela ponders, deeply valid response toquery or maybe, she’ll sneak out escape door. However, she needsanswers to her numerous questions and assistance getting out oftrouble that Ashley can supply.

“Thurston’s fine and dandy.” Pamela cringes,awkwardly with big fat lie. “Where were you and Thurston located,yesterday, Ashley?”

Ashley talks, calmly, eye burns ceiling.“Thurston exploded, yesterday. I have not received any news fromhospital. Is he okay, doctor?”

Pamela questions, logically since that’s theplace she looking for. “What location did Thurston get hurt,Ashley?”

Girl does not