Lady Churchill's Rosebud Wristlet No. 16 by Kelly Link Gavin J. Grant Page A
Authors: Kelly Link Gavin J. Grant
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crotch of his jeans. He giggled when he noticed me noticing that.
"I guess you want to know what I have in my jeans.” No, actually. I do not recall wanting to know. I was scared. But Clem was intent on showing me whatever he had in there. I remember the dirt under his fingernails and in the cracks of his fingers as he pulled the zipper down. Behind him the television program was over and there was a commercial for ponies with real hair you could comb. He was pulling aside the two halves of his jeans. There was something moving—it looked like it was crawling—under the white cloth of his underwear.
It was a locust. He pulled apart the white halves of his underwear and a locust crawled out and plopped down onto the carpet. Clem was still smiling. There were so many things about the Daws children that I didn't understand. There was still something moving there in the hole in Clem's underwear. It was more locusts. They started coming out of that hole and plopping onto the carpet, one after another, then crawling around hungrily. I guess I could have gotten up but I didn't think of it at the time. I just sat there, holding the edges of my sketchbook as more and more locusts crawled out of Clem's jeans. One fat one landed on my knee. It had strange markings, kind of like a funny human face—an old man's. I brushed it off onto the carpet where it looked up at me from among the others.
Eventually, locusts were all over the room and Clem's legs were getting smaller and smaller. His jeans were getting flat and he was crumpling towards the floor. It was only five o'clock. Guy wouldn't be home for another three hours.
"Don't look at the clock,” Clem said, not in a nice way. “I know you can't tell time no how."
No how? I remember thinking. By this time Clem was just a torso. He crawled away from his jeans by using his hands and elbows. There were locusts everywhere: in the curtains, on the couch. I could see their dark silhouettes crawling on the TV screen. Clem's torso started laughing at me in a really mean way. “You don't know about a locust?” Clem's hands wrapped around my ankle. “This is how babies is made!” Then he started bucking up and down on the carpet and cackling and his cackling sounded like the chirping of the locusts. Clem bucked higher and higher until he grabbed the straps of my overalls and pulled me down on the carpet with the creeping, chirping locusts.
I was so afraid of the locusts that all I could do was look at the TV. I looked at the TV and the whole world turned into a tunnel that went around the TV and the light from the TV was the light at the end of that tunnel. Two girls my age came out of the light to comb the hair of the ponies on the TV. What a long commercial.
Hey look, I remember thinking, it's me and Rhina. The girls were very calm and polite as they took turns combing the hair of the ponies. One girl would hold a pony and her eyes would grow big while the other girl combed the pony's tail. They smiled at each other so I could tell they were best friends, the kind of friends who could tell anything to each other. But could they really tell anything to each other? What if one of the girls found out something that the other one could not understand. What if she knew the other girl would never understand it but would be bothered by it and mad at the one girl for telling her something so difficult to understand. Would there be any point in telling? And on the TV they were petting the ponies and giggling at the pink ponies with the purple hair. Only now it looked different to me and I remember looking very hard into the eyes of each girl to see if one of them knew something the other could not know. I looked very hard but there was no telling. And do you know what? One of those ponies winked at me.
Again I know what you are probably thinking Aha! So this is the kind of story this is. And you're putting me in the uncomfortable position of letting you know you're warm. You're over half
"I guess you want to know what I have in my jeans.” No, actually. I do not recall wanting to know. I was scared. But Clem was intent on showing me whatever he had in there. I remember the dirt under his fingernails and in the cracks of his fingers as he pulled the zipper down. Behind him the television program was over and there was a commercial for ponies with real hair you could comb. He was pulling aside the two halves of his jeans. There was something moving—it looked like it was crawling—under the white cloth of his underwear.
It was a locust. He pulled apart the white halves of his underwear and a locust crawled out and plopped down onto the carpet. Clem was still smiling. There were so many things about the Daws children that I didn't understand. There was still something moving there in the hole in Clem's underwear. It was more locusts. They started coming out of that hole and plopping onto the carpet, one after another, then crawling around hungrily. I guess I could have gotten up but I didn't think of it at the time. I just sat there, holding the edges of my sketchbook as more and more locusts crawled out of Clem's jeans. One fat one landed on my knee. It had strange markings, kind of like a funny human face—an old man's. I brushed it off onto the carpet where it looked up at me from among the others.
Eventually, locusts were all over the room and Clem's legs were getting smaller and smaller. His jeans were getting flat and he was crumpling towards the floor. It was only five o'clock. Guy wouldn't be home for another three hours.
"Don't look at the clock,” Clem said, not in a nice way. “I know you can't tell time no how."
No how? I remember thinking. By this time Clem was just a torso. He crawled away from his jeans by using his hands and elbows. There were locusts everywhere: in the curtains, on the couch. I could see their dark silhouettes crawling on the TV screen. Clem's torso started laughing at me in a really mean way. “You don't know about a locust?” Clem's hands wrapped around my ankle. “This is how babies is made!” Then he started bucking up and down on the carpet and cackling and his cackling sounded like the chirping of the locusts. Clem bucked higher and higher until he grabbed the straps of my overalls and pulled me down on the carpet with the creeping, chirping locusts.
I was so afraid of the locusts that all I could do was look at the TV. I looked at the TV and the whole world turned into a tunnel that went around the TV and the light from the TV was the light at the end of that tunnel. Two girls my age came out of the light to comb the hair of the ponies on the TV. What a long commercial.
Hey look, I remember thinking, it's me and Rhina. The girls were very calm and polite as they took turns combing the hair of the ponies. One girl would hold a pony and her eyes would grow big while the other girl combed the pony's tail. They smiled at each other so I could tell they were best friends, the kind of friends who could tell anything to each other. But could they really tell anything to each other? What if one of the girls found out something that the other one could not understand. What if she knew the other girl would never understand it but would be bothered by it and mad at the one girl for telling her something so difficult to understand. Would there be any point in telling? And on the TV they were petting the ponies and giggling at the pink ponies with the purple hair. Only now it looked different to me and I remember looking very hard into the eyes of each girl to see if one of them knew something the other could not know. I looked very hard but there was no telling. And do you know what? One of those ponies winked at me.
Again I know what you are probably thinking Aha! So this is the kind of story this is. And you're putting me in the uncomfortable position of letting you know you're warm. You're over half
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