Room (13 page)

She says, “Would you like some?”

“The left, please,” I say, getting onto Bed.

There isn’t very much but it’s yummy.

I think I snooze for a while but then Ma’s talking in my ear. “Remember how they crawled through the dark tunnel away from the Nazis? One at a time.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s how we’ll do it, when you’re ready.”

“What tunnel?” I look all around.

“Like
the tunnel, not an actual one. What I’m saying is, the prisoners had to be really brave and go one at a time.”

I shake my head.

“It’s the only workable plan.” Ma’s eyes are too shiny. “You’re my brave Prince JackerJack. You’ll go to the hospital first, see, then you’ll come
back with the police—”

“Will they arrest me?”

“No no, they’ll help. You’ll bring them back here to rescue me and we’ll be together again always.”

“I can’t rescue,” I tell her, “I’m only five.”

“But you’ve got superpowers,” Ma tells me. “You’re the only one who can do this. Will you?”

I don’t know what to say but she’s waiting and waiting.

“OK.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes.”

She gives me an enormous kiss.

We get out of Bed and have a tub of mandarins each.

Our plan has problem bits, Ma keeps thinking of them and saying oh no, but then she figures out a way.

“The police won’t know the secret code to get you out,” I tell her.

“They’ll think of something.”

“What?”

She rubs her eye. “I don’t know, a blowtorch?”

“What’s—?”

“It’s a tool with flame coming out, it could burn the door right open.”

“We could make one,” I tell her, jumping up and down. “We could, we could take the vitamin bottle with the Dragon head and put him on Stove with the power on till he’s on
fire, and—”

“And burn ourselves to death,” says Ma, not friendly.

“But—”

“Jack, this is not a game. Let’s go over the plan again . . .”

I remember all the parts but I keep getting them the wrong way around.

“Look, it’s like on
Dora,”
says Ma, “when she goes to one place and then a second place to get to the third place. For us it’s
Truck, hospital,
Police.
Say it?”

“Truck, Hospital, Police.”

“Or maybe it’s five steps, actually.
Sick, Truck, Hospital, Police, Save Ma.”
She waits.

“Truck—”

“Sick.”

“Sick,”
I say.

“Hospital
—no, sorry,
Truck. Sick, Truck
—”

“Sick, Truck, Hospital, Save Ma.”

“You forgot
Police”
she says. “Count on your fingers.
Sick, Truck, Hospital, Police, Save Ma.”

We do it over and over. We make a map of it on ruled paper with pictures, the sick one has me with my eyes closed and my tongue all hanging out, then there’s a brown pickup truck, then a
person in a long white coat that means doctors, then a police car with a flashing siren, then Ma waving and smiling because of being free, with the blowtorch all fiery like a dragon. My head is
tired but Ma says we have to practice the being sick bit, that’s the most important. “Because if he doesn’t believe it, none of the rest will happen. I’ve had an idea,
I’m going to make your forehead really hot and let him touch it . . .”

“No.”

“It’s OK, I won’t burn you—”

She doesn’t understand. “No him touching me.”

“Ah,” says Ma. “Just one time, I promise, and I’ll be right beside you.”

I keep shaking my head.

“Yeah, this could work,” she says, “maybe you could lie against the vent . . .” She kneels down and puts her hand in Under Bed near Bed Wall, then she frowns and says,
“Not hot enough. Maybe . . . a bag of really hot water on your forehead, just before he comes? You’ll be in bed, and when we hear the door going
beep beep
I’ll hide the bag
of water.”

“Where?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter.”

Ma looks at me. “You’re right, we have to figure out all the details so nothing messes up our plan. I’ll drop the bag of water under the bed, OK? Then when Old Nick feels your
forehead it’ll be super hot. Will we try that?”

“With the bag of water?”

“No, just get into bed for now and practice being all floppy, like when we play Corpse.”

I’m very good at that, my mouth hangs open. She pretends to be him, with a really deep voice. She puts her hand over my eyebrows and says all gruff, “Wow, that’s
hot.”

I giggle.

“Jack.”

“Sorry.” I lie extra still.

We practice a lot more, then I’m sick of being pretend-sick, so Ma lets me stop.

Dinner’s hot dogs. Ma’s hardly eating hers. “So do you remember the plan?” she asks.

I nod.

“Tell me.”

I swallow my end of roll.
“Sick, Truck, Hospital, Police, Save Ma.”

“Wonderful. Are you ready, then?”

“For what?”

“Our Great Escape. Tonight.”

I didn’t know it’s tonight. I’m not ready. “Why is it tonight?”

“I don’t want to wait any longer. After he cut the power —”

“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
Bob the Builder
—”

Ma butts in. “You know your heart, Jack?”

“Bam bam.”
I show her on my chest.

“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.

“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?”