The Goat by Anne Fleming

Author:Anne Fleming
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Groundwood Books Ltd
Published: 2016-11-28T18:55:42+00:00

On Monday, Doris picked up her mail on the way in from Seniors Helping Sophomores. She had left Jonathan pretending to play a game on his iPad — wheatgrass drink and rye crackers on his side table. She came home to find him asleep in his chair, the wheatgrass undrunk.

The sight of him asleep filled her with tenderness. She rested on the arm of his chair and kissed his head. He roused, briefly relaxing against her before stiffening, harrumphing.

He began a message on the iPad. Doris let herself hope that today was the day he got over things and just got back to being Jonathan.

I, he wrote.

“Yes, Jojo,” she said expectantly.

Have, he wrote.

“I have,” she repeated.

To pee, he finished.

Oh, boy. That was not communication.

“Pee away,” she said. “I’m not stopping you.”

She left the room to make lunch.

It made her mad that he wouldn’t talk to her. He could use that iPad to talk to her, but he wouldn’t. He shut her out. She was the enemy. Because she wanted him to get better. Because, all right, she pushed him a little. (Doris pulled a pot out of the cupboard.) What a baby he was. (She whapped the pot on the stove.) What a child. (She ripped the tab off the box of squash soup and started glugging it into the pot).

She heard the toilet flush, heard Jonathan shuffle-whump his way back from the bathroom with the walker. She snuck a peek at him to make sure he was all right.

Oh, her grumpy old beloved.

There was a knock at the door. That was odd. They were very strict in the building about soliciting. No Greenpeace, no political canvassers, no Girl Scouts.

So who was knocking?

A kid. In a ball cap. With a dog. And a clipboard. And another kid. Possibly autistic. Hiding his eyes behind his hands. And a tiny grandma watching from down the hall.

“Hi. My name is Kid,” said the first kid, looking at Doris’s shoulder. Doris checked. Did she have a big glob of soup there? No. “I just moved into Apartment 1005. I’m doing a door-to-door survey of our building. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“I’m just getting lunch ready, and I — ”

“Are you aware of a rumor that a goat lives on this building?”

“A goat?”

Jonathan shouted something.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Doris called. “There’s a kid at the door asking about goats.”

“E ih oo um ih,” said Jonathan.

Honestly, Doris thought. He said nothing when you wanted him to talk and shouted when you tried to talk to someone else.

“Some say mountain goat, some say billy goat.”

“I don’t understand. What are you asking me?”

“If you’ve ever seen a goat on or about the building.”

“You have to be kidding,” said Doris.

“E ih oo um ih,” shouted Jonathan.

“Jonathan! I am talking to one of our neighbors! I will be right. There.” She turned back to the child. “No. I haven’t seen a goat.”

The kid sighed and stowed her pencil. “Well, thank you for your time.

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