The Hole in the Wall - Lisa Rowe Fraustino [70]
“Hey, Shish, it’s been a long night. How about another back rub?” I said, throwing myself stomach down on the blankets. She kicked me instead.
“Back rub? You mean you didn’t just scratch—you massaged?” Jed asked.
Barbie nodded. “For quite a while.”
Jed grinned with realization. “Heat! Of course!” he said. “Adrification cools the body. Massaging gets the blood circulating, warms up the body, and must help release the adrium. Well, what are you all waiting for? Let’s get to work warming up the old man. We’re going to have to get out of here pretty soon before the Onion blows.”
We all stared down at Pa: his face stuck in a stupor, his fingers in a choke hold on his imaginary pom-poms, his hairy shins cocked off to the sides of his johnny gown. Then we looked at each other and sort of grimaced and giggled, all nervous and feeling ridiculous. Nobody wanted to touch him, until Ma dropped to Pa’s side and started to massage his thighs with a vengeance.
“Craig, honey, come back to us!”
I had an idea. “No, no, do his legs last. That way he can’t chase us when he comes to.”
Us kids started laughing then! We even got the chickens cackling. “Brilliant!” said Jed.
But Ma yelled at us. “You kids stop that joking around. He’s your father and he’s in serious trouble.” But she did move her massaging up to Pa’s arms.
“Wouldn’t it be awesome if Pa woke up on his good side?” Jed said in a dreamy voice.
Could that really happen? The thought of it took my breath away. At that moment the thing I wanted most in the world was for Pa to wake up and be his old self. In case he could hear, I said, “Sorry I was an idiot, Pa,” and got down on my knees to massage his face. Barbie worked on his chest, and we propped him onto his side so Jed could get behind him to do his back.
After a few minutes Pa’s icy skin warmed and softened into something like clay. His muscles started to twitch. Ma and Jed traded the glasses back and forth to watch the adrium colors fly to the walls. A little later, Pa slowly reached his right hand up to his chin. I jumped all the way out of the cave, in case he was reaching for me, but he just wiggled his jaw around.
The first hoarse word that came out of his crooked mouth was a blankety-blank. Then, “What the blankety-blank’s going on! Where the blankety-blank am I! Why do I feel so blankety-blanking stiff! And what the blankety-blank am I wearing!” He pulled on the chest pocket of his johnny gown. Then he jerked around like a newborn fawn trying to get up, but he couldn’t. We must not have been massaging his good side.
We all looked at each other, waiting for someone else to answer.
Ma adjusted his johnny again. “What’s the last thing you remember, Craig?” she said.
Pa glared at her. “Why do you want to know?” He acted like he had something to hide. Not good. I took another step away. My eyes prickled, but I scowled back the tears.
Finally Pa managed to move his arms and torso enough to lean on his elbows and turn his head slowly, taking in the cave. It reminded me of that owl back in the infirmary. I hoped Dr. Mills had gotten those poor animals out along with Miss Beverly.
“This looks like that old cave where Stan and I used to hide from our old ladies when we were brats,” Pa bellowed. He pounded the ground with his fist. “Why did you bring me here? What did you do to me, Claire? When I—”
Just then his neck stopped turning. His eyes got big. They had stopped on Jed. Pa really did look like an owl, and not the sweet kind perched on a branch but an owl with its wings spread wide, swooping down on a baby skunk it was ready to devour. “You!” he roared. “You’re behind this, aren’t you? Why, I’ll—”
The top of his body twisted and his arms lashed out, but he couldn’t get up because his legs were still paralyzed.
Ma had been calling his name over and over, trying to get Pa’s attention, but all he had owl eyes for was Jed. She took a fistful of Pa’s hair and turned his head toward her. “Craig, whether you know it or not, you owe your life,