Yellowcake - Margo Lanagan [8]
He was at the table trying to explain, talking loudly, clumsily through the cotton wool. And being angry was a kind of paint, he bellowed, and I splashed it all over everything, and everything looked the same. Everything was just something that would make me angry again. Because-because-because-because. All those becauses, on and on—for years, Nance! For my whole life!
Nance laughed and brought tea—in a cup!, gold-rimmed!, instead of his bitten-looking old mug that he might have insisted on. He rubbed the scarred table around the saucer wonderingly. Do you think I’ve had some kind of stroke?
Well, if you have, we both have. Her voice was woolly and distant. Her hair was bright white and wiry, and ashes and a leaf were caught in it. Her face was as old as his and laughing, and her eyes! My goodness, all their lives were in there. He would have to look more. He would have to ask her things—
And then, with a slap of door and a swirl of moths, here came the boy.
Billy! said Nance—even through the wool Corin heard how much was in her voice, was in the name. But by the fact that she left her body facing him as she turned to speak, he understood that she was sharing, not trying to claim the boy all to herself.
You’re asleep on your feet, my darling! she said.
Billy stood the ashtray on the floor to free up a hand. He closed the door properly behind him. He came to the table and laid the rose there.
I borrowed that, he said, hugging the toy dog to his stomach. It’s still good. Maybe you can put it in one of those special vases, the ones for one flower.
A bud vase? And Nance was up getting one.
Billy kept his gaze on the rose, and Corin looked him up and down. He felt he had never seen this boy before; he didn’t know what to do with him besides beleaguer him.
He made his voice very low so that Billy would not mistake him. How did the experiments go?
Billy gave one eye a sketchy rub. Well, he guessed everything. His hair was dull with cobwebs and sweat.
He’s good, then? Corin felt as if he were walking out onto water, using small steps, heel-to-toe, freezing the water with his feet as he went, to make something strong enough to walk on. He’s got the powers?
Billy looked at him. Corin thought, It’s possible I’ve not met eyes with this boy before. And how old is he? Ten? Twelve? I should know what ten and twelve look like. I should know, from my own children.
He’s got too much powers, said Billy. Says his mum, anyway; she says he’s getting too good. She says him and Shai are like babies with a box of bombs. She’s so angry. She’s sending Jo to the You-Crane to learn from her uncle. That’s a country.
The Ukraine? I’ve heard of it.
Nance brought the rinsed bud vase to the table and put the rose in it.
I really need a bath, Billy said to her. Then he blinked. So do you! And you too, Grandpa Corin. What’ve you been doing to get so dirty?
They thought about that. Then Corin said gravely, I put the bin out.
Nance laughed. Yes, and...and a bit of a wind came up.
Billy looked from face to face. I told Shai Cottinden’s Hill wasn’t far enough. Nowhere we could walk to would be.
You’ve been all the way to Cottinden’s Hill? Nance looked horrified.
I know they felt it at Cowper Fen, Billy said to Corin. That’s why their mum came and met us.
I think they might have felt it in the Ukraine, said Corin. I hope that uncle felt it, and comes running. He finished his tea.
Another? said Nance.
Yes, please.
The empty cup gleamed in Corin’s paw.
I know that’s fancier than you’re used to, Nance apologised, bringing the pot.
It’s good. Corin clinked the cup onto its saucer. It’s fine.
His ears popped and the cotton wool was gone from them. The tea clucked and pattered into the cup. ‘And