Awake and Dreaming - Kit Pearson [43]
Theo didn’t answer. Skye was boring—all she talked about was her former home. She wasn’t special, like Anna and Lisbeth. But when she pressed Theo for an answer, Theo shrugged and said, “I don’t care.” Skye’s face filled with delight and she gave Theo her favourite eraser to keep.
The two of them ate their lunch together, but Theo had to go to after-school day care by herself. She walked to the classroom Mrs. Corelli had directed her to. “Day care” sounded like something for little kids.
An enthusiastic pair of young people greeted her—Meran and Jordan. They introduced Theo to a group of about fifteen children of various ages. The room was filled with books, magazines, games, paints and toys. There was even a television set. “You can do whatever you want,” said Meran. “If the weather’s nice we go outside and play soccer or something, but one of us is always inside, too.”
Theo sank into a bean-bag chair in front of the TV. Another first day of school was over. It hadn’t been that bad this time—just dull. Tears pricked her eyelids as she remembered her joyful first day at the dream school, where she’d had two sisters and a brother. But the puppet Theo, the one who was going through all the motions of living with Sharon, forced the tears back.
THAT EVENING in bed her real self won and let out her tears. She sobbed more and more loudly, hoping the TV noise would keep Sharon from hearing.
But then Sharon was at her side. “Theo! Oh, honey, don’t cry! Do you miss your mother?”
She pulled Theo into her arms. “It’s all right. I’ll take good care of you, and Mary Rae will come and visit soon, I’m sure.”
Theo sank into Sharon’s soft front and cried even more, pretending she was in Laura’s—Mum’s—arms instead.
14
Life with Sharon was predictable and safe. Each weekday clicked by in slots as neat as the ones on the schedule. On Saturday mornings the puppet Theo went to the supermarket with Sharon and helped carry in bags of food when they got back. On Saturday afternoons Sharon dropped her off at Skye’s house, or sometimes she took both of them to a movie.
Sharon often went out with her best friend, Mandy, on Friday or Saturday night; then she got Tara, the teenaged girl down the hall, to look after Theo. Tara was sulky because she didn’t have a boyfriend. “If I did, I wouldn’t be stuck here babysitting,” she complained. She slumped in front of the TV eating chips while Theo washed the dishes and put herself to bed.
Sharon took Theo to the Catholic cathedral every Sunday. Theo sat quietly, gazing at the green and gold and white ceiling and the jewel-like windows. A group with a flute and a guitar led the congregation in lively songs. “I Will Sing!” bellowed Sharon with the rest.
Theo wouldn’t sing and she stayed in her pew when the priest invited all the children up to the altar. “I just want to watch,” she said when Sharon tried to encourage her to take part. It was peaceful to sit passively and not have to do anything.
“Wait until you’re used to it, then,” was her aunt’s comfortable reply.
Often Sharon took her bowling on Sunday afternoons. She let Theo try it, but she didn’t like the heavy ball and the cracking sound it made when she dropped it too hard. She would sit with a soft drink and try to pay enough attention to cheer for Sharon’s team when they won.
Sometimes she would lean against her aunt as they watched TV. Her body was soft and smelled of soap. Theo became as addicted to TV as Sharon. They talked about their favourite characters as if they were real people.
“I hope I’m not a bad influence on you,” said Sharon. “Mary Rae told me that you read all the time, but I haven’t seen you open up a book.”
“I don’t like reading any more,” said Theo. It was true. Reading was dangerous; it made her yearn for things she couldn’t have. The stories that unfolded on the screen were not real, like the ones in books; they didn’t draw her in but were at