The Very Marrow of Our Bones by Christine Higdon

Author:Christine Higdon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ECW Press
Published: 2018-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

DORIS

Where is everyone? Mother is on the porch with Louisa May Alcott; she does not like Virginia Woolf, it turns out. Geordie has not yet gotten out of bed, but he will soon, because Mike and Cidalia are making breakfast in the kitchen. Geordie is like a dog; his sense of smell is better than that of any human Doris knows. Dante and Ricky have gone squirrel hunting, or perhaps they are asleep on the couch. Wherever they are, they are doing dog things. They would not mind anyway. The dogs like the accordion. Doris opens the box and takes out the beautiful thing.

“There it is,” Lewis said last Sunday afternoon.

The box has little brass buttons that must be slipped, the left to the left, the right to the right, so that the locks flip up. Lewis slipped them and they made a good clunking sound. Doris would like to keep sounds the way people keep photographs, in an album. Lewis reached out and tucked a lock of Doris’ hair behind her left ear.

“Go on. Open it,” he said.

Doris lifted the lid. She looked down on the accordion, all mother of pearly, like abalone, with silver cut into a pattern over top, and dark blue bellows. Doris has never owned a musical instrument. Lewis might have brought her a Buttercup chicken—she has always wanted a Buttercup—she is that pleased. It is not even her birthday.

“It’s a little one. Start small, I thought,” Lewis said.

With Lewis watching, Doris lifted the instrument from its case and put it on. The straps fit snugly around her back, like one of Lewis’ hugs. She unsnapped the leather strap that constrains the bellows and it flowed out with a long low wail. Doris laughed. “And maybe take some lessons,” Lewis said, grimacing.

She would have liked to have said, Father would hate this, but her hands were full. Why does Father always come to mind? She played the black and white keys and poked the small buttons and moved the bellows in and out all at once. It was a dreadful sound but the colour was magnificent, like oil on a puddle. Lewis’ face was bright and expectant. “You’d look beautiful behind a big bass fiddle, but I can’t afford one, and they’re a little heavy anyway,” he said. Lewis’ smile is like a lamb’s nuzzle.

Everyone likes to give relationship advice. Over the years, at the egg stand, Doris heard more relationship advice than she cares to think about. I told them . . . that’s how they’d start. I told her he was no good. I told her to wait, he’d come round. One thing about relationship advice is true: everyone thinks they know best. In the past, no one offered Doris any, of course, but Doris held hands with Lewis at Trevor Parsons’ funeral and now everyone is offering her advice. Raylene says get used to it. She says Doris has come out of the closet. They

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.