“But he switched it back on last night.”
“Yeah, after three days. And Plant was dead from the cold. And who knows what he’ll do tomorrow?” Ma stands up with her plate, she’s nearly shouting. “He looks human, but there’s nothing inside.”
I’m confused. “Like a robot?”
“Worse.”
“One time there was this robot on
Ma butts in. “You know your heart, Jack?”
“No, but your feeling bit, where you’re sad or scared or laughing or stuff?”
That’s lower down, I think it’s in my tummy.
“Well, he hasn’t got one.”
“A tummy?”
“A feeling bit,” says Ma.
I’m looking at my tummy. “What does he have instead?”
She shrugs. “Just a gap.”
Like a crater? But that’s a hole where something happened. What happened?
I still don’t understand why Old Nick being a robot means we have to do the cunning plan tonight. “Let’s do it another night.” “OK,” says Ma, she flops down in her chair.
“OK?”
“Yeah.” She rubs her forehead. “I’m sorry, Jack, I know I’m rushing you. I’ve had a long time to think this through, but it’s all new to you.” I nod and nod.
“I guess another couple of days can’t make much difference. So long as I don’t let him pick another fight.” She smiles at me. “Maybe in a couple of days?” “Maybe when I’m six.”
Ma’s staring at me.
“Yeah, I’ll be ready to trick him and go in Outside when I’m six.”
She puts her face down on her arms.
I pull at her. “Don’t.”
When it comes up it’s a scary face. “You said you were going to be my superhero.”
I don’t remember saying that.
“Don’t you want to escape?”
“Yeah. Only not really.”
“Jack!”
I look at my last piece of hot dog but I don’t want it. “Let’s just stay.”
Ma’s shaking her head. “It’s getting too small.”
“What is?”
“Room.”
“Room’s not small. Look.” I climb up on my chair and jump with my arms out and spin, I don’t bang into anything.
“You don’t even know what it’s doing to you.” Her voice is shaky. “You need to see things, touch things—” “I do already.”
“More things, other things. You need more room. Grass. I thought you wanted to meet Grandma and Grandpa and Uncle Paul, go on the swings at the playground, eat ice cream. .” “No, thanks.”
“OK, forget it.”
Ma pulls her clothes off and puts on her sleeping T-shirt. I do mine. She doesn’t say anything she’s so furious at me. She ties up the trash bag and puts it beside Door. There’s no list on it tonight.
We brush teeth. She spits. There’s white on her mouth. Her eyes look in mine in Mirror. “I’d give you more time if I could,” she says. “I swear, I’d wait as long as you needed if I thought we were safe. But we’re not.”
I turn around quick to the real her, I hide my face in her tummy. I get some toothpaste on her T-shirt but she doesn’t mind.
We lie on Bed and Ma gives me some, the left, we don’t talk.
In Wardrobe I can’t get to sleep. I sing quietly, “ ‘John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt.’ ” I wait. I sing it again.
Finally Ma answers, “ ‘His name is my name, too.’ ”
“ ‘Whenever I go out—’ ”
“ ‘The people always shout—’ ”
“ ‘There goes John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt—’ ”
Usually she joins in for the “na na na na na na na,” it’s the fun-nest bit, but not this time.
• • •
Ma wakes me but it’s still night. She’s leaning in Wardrobe, I bang my shoulder sitting up. “Come see,” she whispers.
We stand beside Table and look up, there’s the most hugest round silver face of God. So bright, shining all of Room, the faucets and Mirror and the pots and Door and Ma’s cheeks even. “You know,” she whispers, “sometimes the moon is a semicircle, and sometimes a crescent, and sometimes just a little curve like a fingernail clipping.” “Nah.” Only in TV.
She points up at Skylight. “You’ve just seen it when it’s full and right overhead. But when we get out, we’ll be able to spot it lower down in the sky, when it’s all kind of shapes. And even in the daytime.”
“No way Jose.”
“I’m telling you the truth. You’re going to enjoy the world so much. Wait till you see the sun when it’s going down, all pink and purple. .” I yawn.
“Sorry,” she says, whispering again, “come on into bed.”
I look to see if the trash bag is gone, it is. “Was Old Nick here?”
“Yeah. I told him you were coming down with something. Cramps, diarrhea.” Ma’s voice is nearly laughing.
“Why you—?”
“That way he’ll start believing our trick. Tomorrow night, that’s when we’ll do it.”
I yank my hand out of hers. “You shouldn’t told him that.”
“Jack—”
“Bad idea.”
“It’s a good plan.”
“It’s a stupid dumbo plan.”
“It’s the only one we’ve got,” says Ma very loud.
“But I said no.”
“Yeah, and before that you said maybe, and before that you said yes.”
“You’re a cheater.”
“I’m your mother.” Ma’s nearly roaring. “That means sometimes I have to choose for both of us.” We get into Bed. I curl up tight, with her behind me.
I wish we got those special boxing gloves for Sundaytreat so I’d be allowed hit her.
• • •
I wake up scared and I stay scared.
Ma doesn’t let us flush after poo, she breaks it all up with the handle of Wooden Spoon so it’ll look like poo soup, it smells the worst.
We don’t play anything, we just practice me being floppy and not saying one single word. I feel a bit sick for real, Ma says that’s just the power of suggestion. “You’re so good at pretending, you’re even tricking yourself.”
I pack my backpack again that’s really a pillowcase, I put Remote in and my yellow balloon, but Ma says no. “If you have anything with you, Old Nick will guess you’re running away.”
“I could hide Remote in my pants pocket.”
She shakes her head. “You’ll just be in your sleep T-shirt and underwear, because that’s what you’d be wearing if you were really scorching hot with a fever.” I think about Old Nick carrying me into the truck, I’m dizzy like I’m going to fall down.
