Before Leonora Wakes by Thompson Lee

Author:Thompson, Lee
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloodberry Market
Published: 2011-02-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

The water lapped softly against Red’s chest and knees and neck as he shifted position in the tub. His parents had been quiet after Mr. Flickie waved and drove away. Maggie had wanted him to play tea-party and he wanted to do it, just to see her smile, enjoy her enjoyment, but his mom took Mags into the living room and told Red to take a bath. His father had wiped his eyes and popped open a can of Milwaukee’s Best, gaze darting from Red’s arm to the road, back and forth, and it hurt Red, not knowing why his dad couldn’t meet his eyes.

He pulled himself from the tub and dried his skin. Sunlight spilled across the floor of his bedroom.

Two weeks.

He wanted to find Amy, but a shiver slithered down his spine at the realization that if he approached Mr. Blue or Leonora again they’d steal more of his life, hours sucked away with each passing breath.

Red dressed, pulling on sweat pants and an old gray tee-shirt. He went downstairs after looking in the mirror on the back of his door—appraising the sleepy boy with the dark bags around his eyes, the lank hair, thin and colorless.

No wonder they were crying. I don’t look like me anymore.

Downstairs, Maggie played on the couch he’d sat on in his nightmare of Christmas morning. Red wished that was all Pig really wanted now, a family, because he still loved him. He hated him too. But he didn’t know which feeling outweighed the other. He shook his head and walked down the hall to the back of the house, into the kitchen where his mother stood at the sink, sniffling. She ran a washcloth over a plate, her hands covered with soap suds. She set the plate in the other side, to be rinsed, as Red walked over to the refrigerator and grabbed the towel hanging limply through the door handle. He threw the towel over his shoulder and his mom looked out the window, the prism in the middle of it throwing dancing rainbows over her neck. He stood next to her. She said, without looking at him, “You don’t have to help me. I can manage.”

“It’s okay. I want to help you.” Red turned on the hot water and rinsed the plates on his side of the sink, close to her, but feeling far away. He placed the dishes in the rack until he had enough to make them worth drying. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his mom glance his way several times, the rainbow climbing her shirt and grasping her throat as she leaned over and scrubbed an egg-caked spatula.

When she’d finished the last of the silverware, she pulled the drain plug and water swirled, gurgled down the pipes. “You want a cup of coffee?”

Red smiled. “Do I look like I can afford to drink a cup of coffee? Won’t it stunt my growth?”

She kissed his cheek, smelling of soap and shampoo. “Thanks for the help.

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