Rose's Run by Dawn Dumont

Author:Dawn Dumont
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC059000, FIC016000, FIC044000
Publisher: Thistledown Press
Published: 2014-09-01T00:00:00+00:00

Rose spent the afternoon cleaning up the gym. The band had a janitor, Neil, but he had hurt his back a month before and his doctor hadn’t cleared him to work. Rose found this out when she called his house and spoke to his oldest daughter, Cara. The daughter was having a hard time selling the excuse; she probably wanted her dad out of the house as much as Rose did.

Rose got off the phone and raided the cleaning supplies.

The gym was regulation size. When it had first been built, there had been volleyball games every night and floor hockey on weekends. Family reunions had been held there and badminton tournaments and then, somehow, it had faded from people’s memories and became as disused as the ball diamonds and rodeo grounds. It’s like every place had a spirit that would keep it alive and then the spirit moved on to somewhere else. It was too bad that even great things lost momentum.

Rose pushed the broom across the gym and beads of sweat spread across her forehead, then across her cheeks, then even on her chin. When she reached the other side of the wall, she stopped to take a few deep breaths. She felt the underside of her hair it was wet with effort. “Fortunately, I’m built for hard labour,” she assured herself.

The pig farm had been nothing but lifting and carrying for hours and hours. It was a wonder she wasn’t a skinny little thing, but Susie had always fed her staff well. They all had as much pork chops, bacon, pork rinds, and mashed potatoes speckled with bacon bits that they could eat.

I should call her and thank her for my fifteen-pound weight gain, Rose thought.

As she pushed along the mop, its strings reminded Rose of the pigs and their dainty tails and their intense little eyes. Pigs were smarter than dogs, people said, and Rose would have to agree. Rose used to talk to them for hours, and it was like they listened to her. Rose’s eyes grew wet. “I can’t cry about goddamn pigs,” she told herself, and then cried anyway.

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