doesn’t like what’s been going on around here lately.”
“You mean,” Renie said, “the epidemic of death?”
“Yes.” Mr. Mummy nodded slowly. “It’s very unfortunate.”
“So you’ve heard all about the previous deaths?” Judith remarked.
“Oh, yes,” Mr. Mummy said. “We may live in a rural
area, but we take the city newspapers. Not to mention
TV. I find health issues very interesting, since they affect almost everyone in this country.”
“What’s surprised me,” Renie said, buttering her
second piece of corn, “is how little coverage there has
been in the media. Considering that Somosa and Joan
Fremont were very well-known popular figures—and
now Bob Randall—you’d think the local reporters
would be all over the stories.”
Judith clapped a hand to her head. “Oh! We forgot to
turn on the evening news.”
Mr. Mummy waved a pink, pudgy hand. “You didn’t
miss much. I saw the news, and they merely said that
Mr. Randall had died unexpectedly. They did advise that
further details would be on the eleven o’clock news.”
“Ah.” Judith looked relieved.
“You two seem very aware of what goes on around
you,” Mr. Mummy said with admiring glances for both
cousins. “You must pick up on a lot of scuttlebutt.”
Judith’s expression was modest. “We’re interested in
people. Besides, it helps pass the time when you’re laid
up.”
“I think it’s wonderful,” Mr. Mummy said approvingly. “These days, so many people are completely
wrapped up in themselves.”
SUTURE SELF
133
“Not us,” Renie said through a mouthful of coleslaw.
“Fwee lok to kwee abwes.”
Judith smiled at Mr. Mummy’s understandable perplexity. “My cousin said we like to keep abreast. I’m
used to her speaking when she’s eating. I can translate.”
“Amazing,” Mr. Mummy murmured as he stood up
in an awkward manner. “I should be getting back to my
room. Thank you for this delicious treat. If you hear
anything interesting, do let me in on it. I’m a bit bored,
since my wife and family live so far out in the country
that it’s hard for them to get into the city.”
“Any time,” Renie said. “And thanks for playing deliveryman.”
Judith didn’t speak until Mr. Mummy was out of
earshot. “He seems quite caught up in what’s happening at Good Cheer, don’t you think?”
“That’s not so very odd,” Renie said, attacking yet
another piece of chicken. “Mr. Mummy’s right, you
get bored lying around in the hospital.”
“He never did say exactly where he lived, did he?”
“Mmm . . .” Renie swallowed the big bite of chicken
and licked her lips. “No. But then I didn’t ask.”
Judith grew quiet for a few minutes. The only
