Ma’s voice is yawny. “ ‘This is the man all tattered and torn—’ ”
“ ‘That kissed the maiden all forlorn—’ ”
“ ‘That milked the cow with the crumpled horn—’ ”
I steal a few lines in a hurry. “ ‘That tossed the dog that worried the cat that killed the rat that—’ ”
I shut my mouth tight.
The first thing Old Nick says I don’t hear.
“Mmm, sorry about that,” says Ma, “we had curry. I was wondering, actually, if there was any chance—” Her voice is all high. “If it might be possible sometime to put in an extractor fan or something?”
He doesn’t say anything. I think they’re sitting on Bed.
“Just a little one,” she says.
“Huh, there’s an idea,” says Old Nick. “Let’s start all the neighbors wondering why I’m cooking up something spicy in my workshop.” I think that’s sarcasm again.
“Oh. Sorry,” says Ma, “I didn’t think—”
“Why don’t I stick a flashing neon arrow on the roof while I’m at it?”
I wonder how an arrow flashes.
“I’m really sorry,” says Ma, “I didn’t realize that the smell, that it, that a fan would—”
“I don’t think you appreciate how good you’ve got it here,” says Old Nick. “Do you?”
Ma doesn’t say anything.
“Aboveground, natural light, central air, it’s a cut above some places, I can tell you. Fresh fruit, toiletries, what have you, click your fingers and it’s there. Plenty girls would thank their lucky stars for a setup like this, safe as houses. Specially with the kid—”
Is that me?
“No drunk drivers to worry about,” he says, “drug pushers, perverts. .”
Ma butts in very fast. “I shouldn’t have asked for a fan, it was dumb of me, everything’s fine.”
“OK, then.”
Nobody says anything for a little bit.
I count my teeth, I keep getting it wrong, nineteen then twenty then nineteen again. I bite my tongue till it hurts.
“Of course there’s wear and tear, that’s par for the course.” His voice is moved, I think he’s over near Bath now. “This seam’s buckling, I’ll have to sand and reseal. And see here, the underlayment’s showing through.”
“We are careful,” says Ma, very quietly.
“Not careful enough. Cork’s not meant for high traffic, I was planning on one sedentary user.”
“Are you coming to bed?” asks Ma in that funny high voice.
“Let me get my shoes off.” There’s a sort of grunt, I hear something drop on Floor. “You’re the one hassling me about renovations before I’m here two minutes. .”
Lamp goes out.
Old Nick squeaks Bed, I count to ninety-seven then I think I missed one so I lose count.
I stay awake listening even when there’s nothing to hear.
• • •
On Sunday we’re having bagels for dinner, very chewy, with jelly and peanut butter as well. Ma takes her bagel out of her mouth and there’s a pointy thing stuck in it. “At last,” she says.
I pick it up, it’s all yellowy with dark brown bits. “Bad tooth?”
Ma nods. She’s feeling in the back of her mouth.
That’s so weird. “We could stick him back in, with flour glue, maybe.”
She shakes her head, grinning. “I’m glad it’s out, now it can’t hurt anymore.”
He was part of her a minute ago but now he’s not. Just a thing. “Hey, you know what, if you put him under your pillow a fairy will come in the night invisibly and turn him into money.”
“Not in here, sorry,” says Ma.
“Why not?”
“The tooth fairy doesn’t know about Room.” Her eyes are looking through the walls.
Outside has everything. Whenever I think of a thing now like skis or fireworks or islands or elevators or yo- yos, I have to remember they’re real, they’re actually happening in Outside all together. It makes my head tired. And people too, firefighters teachers burglars babies saints soccer players and all sorts, they’re all really in Outside. I’m not there, though, me and Ma, we’re the only ones not there. Are we still real?
After dinner Ma tells me
“Which ones?”
“The mermaid mother and Hansel and Gretel and all them.”
“Well,” says Ma, “not literally.”
“What’s—”
“They’re magic, they’re not about real people walking around today.”
“So they’re fake?”
“No, no. Stories are a different kind of true.”
My face is all scrunched up from trying to understand. “Is the Berlin Wall true?”
“Well, there was a wall, but it’s not there anymore.”
I’m so tired I’m going to rip in two like Rumpelstiltskin did at the end.
“Night-night,” says Ma, shutting the doors of Wardrobe, “sleep tight, don’t let the bugs bite.”
• • •
I didn’t think I was switched off but then Old Nick’s here all loud.
“But vitamins—” Ma is saying.
“Highway robbery.”
“You want us getting sick?”
“It’s a giant rip-off,” says Old Nick. “I saw this expose one time, they all end up in the toilet.”
Who ends up in Toilet?
“It’s just that, if we had a better diet—”
“Oh, here we go. Whine, whine, whine. .” I can see him through the slats, he’s sitting on the edge of Bath.
Ma’s voice gets mad. “I bet we’re cheaper to keep than a dog. We don’t even need shoes.”
“You have no idea about the world of today. I mean, where do you think the money’s going to keep coming from?”
Nobody says anything. Then Ma. “What do you mean? Money in general, or—?”
“Six months.” His arms are folded, they’re huge. “Six months I’ve been laid off, and have you had to worry your pretty little head?” I can see Ma too, through the slats, she’s nearly beside him. “What happened?”
“Like it matters.”
“Are you looking for another job?”
They stare at each other.
“Are you in debt?” she asks. “How’re you going to—?”
“Shut your mouth.”
I don’t mean to but I’m so scared he’s going to hurt her again the sound just bursts out of my head.
Old Nick’s looking right at me, he takes a step and another and another and he knocks on the slats. I see his hand shadow. “Hey in there.” He’s talking to me. My chest’s going
“He’s asleep.” That’s Ma.
“She keep you in the closet all day as well as all night?”
The
“Doesn’t seem natural.” I can see in his eyes, they’re all pale. Can he see me, am I turning to stone? What if
