“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.
“Scared is what you’re feeling,” says Ma, “but brave is what you’re doing.”
“Huh?”
“Scaredybrave.”
“Scave.”
Word sandwiches always make her laugh but I wasn’t being funny.
Lunch is beef soup, I just suck the crackers.
“Which bit are you worrying about right now?” asks Ma.
“The hospital. What if I don’t say the right words?”
“All you have to do is tell them your mother’s locked up and the man who brought you in did it.”
“But the words—”
“What?” She waits.
“What if they don’t come out at all?”
Ma leans her mouth on her fingers. “I keep forgetting you’ve never talked to anybody but me.” I wait.
Ma lets her breath out long and noisy. “Tell you what, I have an idea. I’ll write you a note for you to keep hidden, a note that explains everything.”
“Good-o.”
“You just give it to the first person—not a patient, I mean, the first person in a uniform.”
“What’ll the person do with it?”
“Read it, of course.”
“TV persons can read?”
She stares at me. “They’re real people, remember, just like us.”
I still don’t believe that but I don’t say.
Ma does the note on a bit of ruled paper. It’s a story all about us and Room and Please send help a.s.a.p., that means super fast. Near the start, there’s two words I never saw before, Ma says they’re her names like TV persons have, what everybody in Outside used to call her, it’s only me who says Ma.
My tummy hurts, I don’t like her to have other names that I never even knowed. “Do I have other names?”
“No, you’re always Jack. Oh, but—I guess you’d have my last name too.” She points at the second one.
“What for?”
“Well, to show you’re not the same as all the other Jacks in the world.”
“Which other Jacks? Like in the magic stories?”
“No, real boys,” says Ma. “There are millions of people out there, and there aren’t enough names for everyone, they have to share.”
I don’t want to share my name. My tummy hurts harder. I don’t have a pocket so I put the note inside my underwear, it’s scratchy.
The light’s all leaking away. I wish the day stayed longer so it wouldn’t be night.
It’s 08:41 and I’m in Bed practicing. Ma’s filled a plastic bag with really hot water and tied it tight so none spills out, she puts it in another bag and ties that too. “Ouch.” I try to get away.
“Is it your eyes?
” She puts it back on my face. “It’s got to be hot, or it won’t work.”
“But it hurts.”
She tries it on herself. “One more minute.”
I put up my fists between.
“You have to be as brave as Prince JackerJack,” says Ma, “or this won’t work. Maybe I should just tell Old Nick you got better?”
“No.”
“I bet Jack the Giant Killer would put a hot bag on his face if he had to. Come on, just a bit longer.”
“Let me.” I put the bag down on the pillow, I scrunch up my face and put it on the hotness. Sometimes I come up for a break and Ma feels my forehead or my cheeks and says, “Sizzling,” then she makes me put my face back. I’m crying a bit, not about the hot but because of Old Nick coming, if he’s coming tonight, I don’t want him to, I think I’m going to be sick for actual. I’m always listening for the beep beep. I hope he doesn’t come, I’m not scave I’m just regular scared.
I run to Toilet and do more poo and Ma stirs it up. I want to flush but she says no, Room has to stink like I’ve had diarrhea all day.
When I get back into Bed she kisses the back of my neck and says, “You’re doing great, crying is a big help.”
“Why’s—?”
“Because it makes you look sicker. Let’s do something about your hair. . . . I should have thought of that before.” She puts some dish soap on her hands and rubs it hard all on my head. “That looks good and greasy. Oh but it smells too nice, you need to smell worse.” She runs over to look at Watch again. “We’re running out of time,” she says, all shaky. “I’m an idiot, you have to smell bad, you really—Hang on.”
She leans over Bed, she makes a weird cough and puts her hand in her mouth. She keeps making the weird sound. Then stuff falls out of her mouth like spit but much thicker. I can see the fish sticks we had for dinner.
She’s rubbing it on the pillow, on my hair. “Stop,” I shriek, I’m trying to wriggle away.
“Sorry, I have to.” Ma’s eyes are weird and shiny. She’s wiping her vomit on my T-shirt, even my mouth. It smells the worst ever, all sharp and poisonous. “Put your face on the hot bag again.”
“But—”
“Do it, Jack, hurry.”
“I want to stop now.”
“We’re not playing, we can’t stop. Do it.”
I’m crying because the stink and my face in the hot bag so I think it’s going to melt off. “You’re mean.”
“I’ve got a good reason,” says Ma.
Beep beep. Beep beep.
Ma grabs the bag of water away, it’s ripping off my face. “Shh.” She presses my eyes shut, pushes my face down into the awful pillow, she pulls Duvet right up over my back.
The colder air comes in with him. Ma calls out right away, “There you are.”
“Keep your voice down.” Old Nick says it quietly like a growl.
“I just—”
“Shh.” Another beep beep, then the boom. “You know the drill,” he says, “not a peep out of you till the door’s shut.”
“Sorry, sorry. It’s just, Jack’s really bad.” Ma’s voice is shaking and for a minute I nearly believe it, she’s even better pretending than me.
“It reeks in here.”
“That’s because he’s had it coming out both ends.”
“Probably just a twenty-four-hour bug,” says Old Nick.
“It’s been more like thirty hours already. He’s got chills, he’s burning up—”
“Give him one of those headache pills.”
“What do you think I’ve been trying all day? He just pukes them up again. He can’t even keep water down.”
Old Nick puffs his breath. “Let’s have a look at him.”
“No,” says Ma.
“Come on, get out of the way—”
“No, I said no—”
I keep my face in the pillow, it’s sticky. My eyes are shut. Old Nick’s there, right by Bed, he can see me. I feel his hand on my cheek, I make a sound because I’m so scared, Ma said it would be my forehead but it isn’t, it’s my cheek he’s touching and his hand isn’t like Ma’s, it’s cold and heavy—
Then it’s gone. “I’ll get him something stronger from the all-night drugstore.”
“Something stronger? He’s barely five years old, he’s totally dehydrated, with a fever of God knows what.” Ma’s shouting, she shouldn’t shout, Old Nick’s going to get mad.
“Just shut up for a second and let me think.”
“He needs to go to the ER right now, that’s what he needs and you know it.”
Old Nick makes a sound, I don’t know what it means.
Ma’s voice is like she’s crying. “If you don’t bring him in now, he’ll, he could—”
“Enough with the hysterics,” he says.
“Please. I’m begging you.”
“No way.”
I nearly say Jose. I think it but I don’t say it, I’m not saying anything, I’m just being limp all Gone.
“Just tell them he’s an illegal alien with no papers,” says Ma, “he’s in no state to say a word, you can drive him right back here as soon as they’ve got some fluids into him . . .” Her voice is moving after him. “Please. I’ll do anything.”
“There’s no talking to you.” He sounds like he’s over by Door.
“Don’t go. Please, please . . .”
Something falls down. I’m so scared I’m never opening my eyes.
Ma’s wailing. The beep beep. Boom, Door’s shut, we’re on our own.
It’s all quiet. I count my teeth five times, always twenty except one time it’s nineteen but I count again till it’s twenty. I peek sideways. Then I lift my head off the stinky pillow.
Ma’s sitting on Rug with her back against Door Wall. She’s staring at nothing. I whisper, “Ma?”
She does the strangest thing, she sort of smiles.
“Did I mess up the pretending?”
“Oh, no. You were a star.”
“But he didn’t take me to the hospital.”
“That’s OK.” Ma gets up and wets a cloth in Sink, she comes to wipe my face.
“But you said.” All that burning face and vomit and him touching me. “Sick, Truck, Hospital, Police, Save Ma.”
Ma’s nodding, she lifts my T-shirt off and wipes my chest. “That was Plan A, it was worth a try. But like I figured, he was too scared.”
She’s got it wrong. “He was scared?”
“Just in case you’d tell the doctors about Room and the police would put him in jail. I hoped he’d risk it, if he thought you were in serious danger—but I never really thought he would.”
I get it. “You tricked me,” I roar. “I didn’t get to ride in the brown truck.”
“Jack,” she says, she’s pressing me against her, her bones hurt my face.
I push away. “You said no more lying and you were unlying now, but then you lied again.”
“I’m doing my best,” says Ma.
I suck on my lip.
“Listen. Will you listen to me for a minute?”
“I’m sick of listening to you.”
She nods. “I know. But listen anyway. There’s a Plan B. Plan A was really the first part of Plan B.”
“You never said.”
“It’s pretty complicated. I’ve been puzzling over it for a few days now.”
“Yeah, well I’ve got millions of brains for puzzling.”
“You do,” says Ma.
“Way more than you.”
“That’s true. But I didn’t want you to have to hold both plans in your head at the same time, you might get confused.”
“I’m confused already, I’m one hundred percent confused.”
She kisses me through my hair that’s all sticky. “Let me tell you about Plan B.”
“I don’t want to hear your stinky dumb plans.”
“OK.”
I’m shivering from having no T-shirt on. I find a clean one in Dresser, a blue.
We get
into Bed, the smell is awful. Ma shows me to breathe through my mouth only because mouths don’t smell anything. “Can we lie with our heads the other way?”
“Brilliant idea,” says Ma.
She’s being nice but I’m not going to forgive her.
We put our feet at the stinky wall end and our faces at the other.
I think I’m never going to switch off.
• • •
It’s 08:21 already, I slept for long and now I’m having some, the left is so creamy. Old Nick didn’t come back I don’t think.
“Is it Saturday?” I ask.
“That’s right.”
“Cool, we wash our hair.”
Ma shakes her head. “You can’t smell clean.”
I was forgetting for a minute. “What is it?”
“What?”
“Plan B.”
“Are you ready to hear it now?”
I don’t say anything.
“Well. Here goes.” Ma clears her throat. “I’ve been going over it and over it every which way, I think it just might work. I don’t know, I can’t be sure, it sounds crazy and I know it’s incredibly dangerous but—”
“Just tell me,” I say.
“OK, OK.” She takes a loud breath. “Do you remember the Count of Monte Cristo?”
“He was locked up in a dungeon on an island.”
“Yeah, but remember how he got out? He pretended to be his dead friend, he hid in the shroud and the guards threw him into the sea but the Count didn’t drown, he wriggled out and swam away.”
“Tell the rest of the story.”
Ma waves her hand. “It doesn’t matter. The point is, Jack, that’s what you’re going to do.”
“Get thrown in the sea?”
“No, escape like the Count of Monte Cristo.”
I’m confused again. “I don’t have a dead friend.”
“I just mean you’ll be disguised as dead.”
I stare at her.
“Actually it’s more like a play I saw in high school. This girl Juliet, to run away with the boy she loved, she pretended she was dead by drinking medicine, then a few days later she woke up, ta-da.”
“No, that’s Baby Jesus.”
“Ah—not really.” Ma rubs her forehead. “He was actually dead for three days, then he came back to life. You’re not going to be dead at all, just pretending like the girl in the play.”
“I don’t know to pretend I’m a girl.”
“No, pretending you’re dead.” Ma’s voice is a bit cranky.