Room_ A Novel - Emma Donoghue [9]
“What’s equinox?”
“It means equal, when there’s the same amount of dark and light.”
It’s too late for any TV because of the cake, Watch says 08:33. My yellow hoody nearly rips my head off when Ma’s pulling it. I get into my sleep T-shirt and brush my teeth while Ma ties up the trash bag and puts it beside Door with our list that I wrote, tonight it says Please, Pasta, Lentils, Tuna, Cheese (if not too $), O.J., Thanks.
“Canweask for grapes? They’re good for us.”
At the bottom Ma puts Grapes if poss (or any fresh fruit or canned).
“Can I have a story?”
“Just a quick one. What about . . . GingerJack?”
She does it really fast and funny, Gingerjack jumps out of the stove and runs and rolls and rolls and runs so nobody can catch him, not the old lady or the old man or the threshers or the plowers. But at the end he’s an idiot, he lets the fox carry him across the river and gets eat up snap.
If I was made of cake I’d eat myself before somebody else could.
We do a quick quick prayer that’s hands clicked together, eyes shut. I pray for John the Baptist and Baby Jesus to come around for a playdate with Dora and Boots. Ma prays for sunshine to melt the snow off Skylight.
“Can I have some?”
“First thing tomorrow,” says Ma, pulling her T-shirt back down.
“No, tonight.”
She points up at Watch that says 08:57, that’s only three minutes before nine. So I run into Wardrobe and lie down on my pillow and wrap up in Blanket that’s all gray and fleecy with the red piping. I’m just under the drawing of me I forgot was there. Ma puts her head in. “Three kisses?”
“No, five for Mr. Five.”
She gives me five then squeaks the doors shut.
There’s still light coming in the slats so I can see some of me in the drawing, the bits like Ma and the nose that’s only like me. I stroke the paper, it’s all silky. I go straight so my head is pressing on Wardrobe and so are my feet. I listen to Ma getting into her sleep T-shirt and taking the killers, always two at night because she says pain is like water, it spreads out as soon as she lies down. She spits toothpaste. “Our friend Zack has an itch on his back,” she says.
I think of one. “Our friend Zah says blah blah blah.”
“Our friend Ebeneezer lives in a freezer.”
“Our friend Dora went to the store-a.”
“That’s a cheat rhyme,” says Ma.
“Oh, man!” I groan like Swiper. “Our friend Baby Jesus . . . likes to eat cheeses.”
“Our friend Spoon sang a song to the moon.”
The moon is God’s silver face that only comes on special occasions.
I sit and put my face up against the slats, I can see slices of TV that’s off, Toilet, Bath, my blue octopus picture going curly, Ma putting our clothes back in Dresser. “Ma?”
“Mmm?”
“Why am I hided away like the chocolates?”
I think she’s sitting on Bed. She talks quiet so I can hardly hear. “I just don’t want him looking at you. Even when you were a baby, I always wrapped you up in Blanket before he came in.”
“Would it hurt?”
“Would what hurt?”
“If he saw me.”
“No, no. Go to sleep now,” Ma tells me.
“Do the Bugs.”
“Night-night, sleep tight, don’t let the bugs bite.”
The Bugs are invisible but I talk to them and sometimes count, last time I got to 347. I hear the snap of the switch and Lamp goes out all at the same second. Sounds of Ma getting under Duvet.
I’ve seen Old Nick through the slats some nights but never all of him close up. His hair has some white and it’s smaller than his ears. Maybe his eyes would turn me to stone. Zombies bite kids to make them undead, vampires suck them till they’re floppy, ogres dangle them by the legs and munch them up. Giants can be just as bad, be he alive or be he dead I’ll grind his bones to make my bread, but Jack ran away with the golden hen and he was slithering down the Beanstalk quick quick. The Giant was climbing down after him but Jack shouted to his Ma for the ax, that’s like our knives but bigger, and his Ma was too scared to chop the Beanstalk on her own