Mrs. Akalitus arrives, right on time, distastefully efficient, and gives Mrs. Zimberg an ugly apology. The curtain squeals, screeches, as she pulls it back. Mrs. Zimberg speaks quietly, says something in Yiddish, and Akalitus leaves again. She's not a happy woman. What did it mean? "Go shit in the ocean," Mrs. Zimberg grins, and Jackie smiles warmly. "Very nice."
Eleanor sits on a pew in the chapel hall, giant sunglasses on her face, looking at nothing. Zoey creeps up to her, like a cat, speaking in that strangely reverent, weird way. "Hi, it's me, Zo... Angela?" She sits, to no response. "I was wondering if I could get the stetho..." Nothing. She stares, considering this woman. This doctor. She waves her hand in front of Eleanor's face. Nothing. Finally, on fire with her own daring, every nerve alive with transgression and fear, she slips it off Eleanor's neck. A big moment, Goonies-esque in its adventurous import. As it comes free, she gets into it, grinning toothily, and then it's free. She runs.
"Well done, Angela," Eleanor grins to herself, and reclines on the pew, resting on her elbows. If it were Jackie, Zoey would have pulled back a bloody stump. She would have held onto those things with a death grip until Zoey pulled it together enough to look her in the eye, squinting, and demanded them. Threatened to beat the shit out of her, maybe, or just grabbed it, like Grasshopper. Not referring to authority, not threatening to tattle, just looked her in the eye and said "Give me back my fucking stethoscope."
But this is Eleanor, and this is also training Zoey needs: You don't look a doctor in the eye and you don't threaten them with harm. Not unless it's somebody like Coop, or you're somebody like Jackie. A different kind of training: How to survive in a world where people punch you out of nowhere, or blame you for their own misdeeds, or use the hierarchy of power to fuck with you. You don't demand, you just take. Silently, and without disturbing the balance. You sneak, without leaving a ripple or a footprint, so that nothing changes. She did well. She learned a thing today.