See Jane Run by Joe Dees

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"It is better to travel hopefully than to arrive."
Robert Louis Stevenson

"Doctor, the baby near the door seems restless. Could you check her out?"
Dr Phiship meandered over to the end crib and scrutinized the tiny form within impotently kicking and flailing at the confining walls, then read the birth record affixed to the crib's end. "Hmmm. Jane Romany Permoti. Born this morning. Hair brown, eyes blue, seven pounds three ounces. Father Raphael Kane Permoti, mother's maiden name Wanda Rachel Gold. Normal birth, no complications. She looks healthy as a horse -- hey! Wait a minute, rascal! Impatient, aren't you? Amazing! Only eleven hours old, and she almost crawled right out of her crib! Stella?"
Yes, Doctor?"
Put little Rover here in that bassinet and fasten the blanket snaps. She wants to be up and about before her time. Oh, she'll be a beauty, though! Look at those eyes! If I didn't know better, I'd swear she was staring at me. Being a Gypsy Jew, they *should* change to brown before long, but I'll bet they won't. She'll grow up to be a real heartbreaker."
As the doctor handed her to the nurse and moved away, Jane's eyes followed him until he was out of sight. Then, as the nurse tucked her into the bassinet and snapped the restraining blanket into place, her eyes once again began roaming the nursery. She lay quiet for a while; when the nurse had gone she resumed her silent strugglings.
(See Jane. See Jane run. Baby Jane, somehow still restless, so soon after the primal passage, newly and but barely aware, still untired after the transition, struggles on and on until fatigue and exhaustion inexorably close the bright blue eyes and the movements of the tiny body slow and cease as Jane, for the very first time, sleeps. And dreams of running...)
"Mrs. Permoti, I've asked you here to discuss Jane."
Miss Lerner, principal of the Montessori school Jane was attending, was not the grizzled matriarch Wanda was expecting. She was attractive, cultured, with a poise and bearing that was at once reassuring and unsettling. Her smile was genuine, but her eyes betrayed concern as she spoke. "Your daughter isn't leaving school any more; we've come that far, at least. However, she simply cannot sit still for any period of time."
"Isn't that normal for a child of seven, Miss Lerner?"
"Yes," she agreed, "to some extent, but not to the degree Jane has been demonstrating. We have taken the liberty," she continued, "of administering certain tests to her. The results were extraordinary. Your child possesses exceptional intelligence and exhibits a phenomenal retention factor. She is always at the top of her class. However, she is also a classic case of the hyperkinetic child. I have asked you here to advise you to seek a medical solution to our mutual problem."
Wanda's eyebrows arched in consternation.

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