Comatoast by Judith Jackson

Author:Judith Jackson [Jackson, Judith]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-12-16T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

“Hello?” called a familiar voice. “Hello? George? Are you here? Are the children home from school yet?”

Rose. And who was George? And why was there a bone on the floor? A might-be-human bone that was almost touching me.

“Hello? George? Where’s Valerie? Is she at her music lesson?”

“Hey,” said Daryl, walking down the hall. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for George. Have you seen him? Or Valerie? She might be at school. I don’t know. I’m all muddled.”

Oh, Rose. She was so brave. She’d climbed those stairs for me.

“I’m sorry, but you’re in the wrong house.”

“No, this is my house. I’m sure this is my house. Who are you? How did I get here?”

“Do you live on this street? Do your people know you’re out?” Daryl was speaking in a surprisingly gentle voice.

“My people. My people? Can you take me to my people?”

“Do you know where they are?”

“On the corner!” said Rose, in an excited voice. “The big house on the corner. I’ll go find them. I hope I don’t fall down these stairs. I’m always falling these days.”

“I’ll come with you. Here, take my arm.”

“This is so kind of you. Whoever you are, I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.” Rose really should have been on the stage. Nice for her though, that at the age of seventy-four she finally had the opportunity to do her best Blanche Dubois.

I could hear them walking down the stairs. Rose was still talking. Probably overdoing it. I had to get out of here and spirit her away from Daryl. But the shiny white bone was glowering up at me. What if it really was human? I couldn’t just leave a human bone lying around. I scanned the room, looking for the least disgusting thing I could use to pick it up. There was a faded newspaper in the corner. I stepped over a pile of rubbish, grabbed the newspaper and gingerly wrapped the bone, being careful not to make any contact with my bare hands.

I hurried down the stairs, cracked open the door and peered out. Rose and Daryl were gone. I trotted around the house, unlocked my car and tossed the bone on the floor of the passenger seat. Now, to find Rose. And there she was, strolling down the sidewalk, holding on to Daryl’s arm.

“Mom! Mom — wrong way!”

Rose stopped in her tracks, and she and Daryl turned to see who was yelling.

“Hello,” I called, jogging towards them. “This is my mother. I’ve been so worried. Thanks so much for helping her.”

“George? George, you found me. Praise be.”

Okay, now she was going too far. Rose never knew where to draw the line.

“You need to watch her more carefully,” said Daryl, in a stern voice. “She was in my house. Upstairs. She could have hurt herself. Those are steep stairs she climbed.”

“You are so right. She loves to wander off. I just turned my head for a minute and she disappeared.”

Rose smiled serenely. “Thank you dear,” she said to Daryl, patting him on the arm.

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