The Thirteen by Susie Moloney

HEN THEY GOT BACK from the park, Paula told Rowan to entertain herself while she made a couple of calls. Rowan fiddled with the TV, but all that was on was that Joanna Shaw show; her mom had said she was a friend of Mrs. Riley-Moore’s. She watched without much interest as Joanna Shaw got the audience to yell at a man who didn’t pay his child support. Then an ad came on reminding viewers to tune in next week, when the show went national. Rowan clicked it off.
    She could hear her mom on the phone in the kitchen. Tex was collapsed on the floor beside her and she reached over and gave him a scratch on his belly. That was when she remembered about the new collar.
    Tex followed her to Grandma’s bedroom. Her mom’s clothes were still in her bag, but she’d put her makeup stuff on the giant bureau against the wall. Rowan got down on all fours and lifted the bedskirt. Under the bed, right in the middle, was a small box. She reached for it and it slid easily towards her on the wood floor. Even though her grandmother had told her to take it, it still felt like sneaking, and she kept one ear on the sound of her mother talking at the other end of the house.
    The box had an inlaid decoration on the top. She took the key from her blazer pocket, slipped it into the lock and turned, then lifted the lid. A strong smell hit her and she wrinkled her nose. An old-people smell, like the stuff they put in their drawers and medicine cabinets. Medicine-y.
    Tex sniffed the air, then sat on his bum beside her. He whined sadly.
    “Do you miss Grandma, Tex? Do you?”
    Inside the box were pieces of broken jewellery, a copper penny, a nickel. A teeny-tiny pincushion in the shape of a little pig caught her eye; it had room for only four pins. There were also three small Ziploc bags. One held a sponge, another some powder. The third was empty. Underneath them she found what she assumed was the collar. She lifted it out and held it at eye level. It smelled too.
    Her grandmother had wound the whole length of it with red ribbon and had added decorative dots along the ribbon. There were tiny marks that looked like exotic tattoos, circles and stars. Four puffy bits of cotton, evenly spaced, completed the decoration. It was weird, but Rowan liked it.
    The dog looked at it and at her.
    “You have to wear it. Grandma said,” she told him. She put it around his neck and carefully did up the buckle, loosely so it wouldn’t hurt him. Then she tilted her head and studied him. “Very handsome for an old bugger.”
    She undid the old collar and dropped it into the box. Then she closed the lid and slid it back under the bed. Just as her mother came into the room.
    “Is that what you’re wearing to Sanderson’s house?” She pointed at Rowan’s school blazer.
    Rowan frowned. “Is that what you’re wearing?” She pointed at the rock T-shirt her mother wore. U2.
    “I’m changing, Miss Behaviour.”
    Rowan got up and patted her leg for the dog to follow her. “Don’t change too much or I won’t recognize you.”
    Paula was frustrated. She’d called the hospital and asked Tula for the name of the doctor treating her mother. Tula had stalled, said she wasn’t at the desk that had the directory, that he was new to the hospital. She thought his name was Tuck or Tubb or Tucker.
    something like that dear—I’ll find out and let you know tomorrow
    There was no Tuck or Tubb or Tucker in the phone book. So she called every doctor in the area to find the one who was treating her mother. She had to argue with each receptionist even to get them to check
    we don’t usually give out that information dear
    but from what she could figure out, no one in Haven Woods was treating her mother.
    So she’d called the hospital and gotten (half-wit) Tula again. Did the woman never go off shift? When Paula explained what she’d done, all Tula could say was, Well, many of our doctors come from other places. I told you I’d check and let you know tomorrow . Paula demanded