think you can put up with me that long? Me and my smoking and my fortune-telling?’
‘Momma, Jean and me have discussed this right down to the smallest detail. Jean is just as keen to have you come to Florida as I am. Listen, we’re exactly the same with Jean’s parents, Ned and Marilyn, we visit them regularly, we make sure they have everything they need. We believe that we have a duty.’
Sissy could see herself in the mirror at the end of the hall; and in the glass-framed pictures of Italy beside the living-room door; and reflected in the windows. So pale, so old. So many different Sissys.
‘My heart’s here, Trevor. This is where I always spend Christmas.’
‘Your heart has angina, Momma.’
‘It’s the cards, too. I know you’ll get angry. I know you won’t understand. But this morning a woman was shot dead up at Canaan and I believe that the cards predicted it.’
Trevor stared at her. His hair was still sticking up at the back. ‘For God’s sake, Momma, this doesn’t make any sense at all.’
‘The Headless Doll, that was the card that came up, and when the Headless Doll comes up it always means that a child is going to be orphaned. And that’s what happened.’
‘Momma, this is insanity! The cards are just cards, they only mean what you want them to mean! Look—we really don’t mind. If you don’t want to come to Florida, then don’t! But why not come straight out and say so, instead of making this ridiculous pretense that the cards are telling you not to?’
‘But they are ! They’re trying to tell me that something dreadful is going to happen! Can’t you see? It’s already started, and it’s going to get ten times worse!’
‘All right!’ Trevor shouted. ‘All right! Supposing the cards are right! Supposing they really can predict what’s going to happen, and it’s going to be terrible! What do you think you can do about it? Hmh? Tell the police? Call up the National Guard? “I’m a sixty-seven-year-old widow and my cards tell me that something terrible is going to happen!” What do you think they’re going to say to that?’
Sissy went across to the coffee table, picked up her pack of Marlboro, took one out and defiantly lit it. She blew out smoke, and then she said, ‘You and Jean, you believe you have a duty. Well, I have a duty, too. I love you, Trevor, and you know I love Jean and little Jake. But the people around here, they’re going to need me in the next few weeks, and that’s why I have to stay. I feel it in my bones: there’s no other way of explaining it.’
Trevor looked around the room; at the clutter of pictures on the walls; at the antique chairs with their scatter-cushions; and the gaggle of occasional tables; and the old carpet-bag that Sissy kept her sewing in; and the week-old newspapers stacked beside the fireplace.
‘It’s all right,’ said Sissy. ‘You can throw this all away, when I die. I won’t be upset. But it’s my life, and I want to go on living it.’
Trevor puffed out his cheeks, and then he said, ‘OK, if that’s the way you want it. But I don’t understand you at all. It’s like—I don’t know. I just can’t follow the way you think.’
‘I am your real mother, if that’s what you’re getting at. I was there when you were born.’
‘Very funny, Momma. Look . . . if you change your mind before six o’clock today, give me a call, will you?’
He pulled on his balaclava and for a moment Sissy wanted so much to say to him, make sure you’ve got your lunch money and your clean handkerchief and don’t be home too late; but those days had long gone, and all the photograph albums in the world could never bring them back.
The Headless Doll
T he wind began to rise, so that the snow in the Mitchelsons’ back yard was whipped up into little dancing fairies.
Jim came trudging up to the swing-set and leaned against the upright. His cheeks were bright red and there was a clear drip swinging on the end of his
‘Momma, Jean and me have discussed this right down to the smallest detail. Jean is just as keen to have you come to Florida as I am. Listen, we’re exactly the same with Jean’s parents, Ned and Marilyn, we visit them regularly, we make sure they have everything they need. We believe that we have a duty.’
Sissy could see herself in the mirror at the end of the hall; and in the glass-framed pictures of Italy beside the living-room door; and reflected in the windows. So pale, so old. So many different Sissys.
‘My heart’s here, Trevor. This is where I always spend Christmas.’
‘Your heart has angina, Momma.’
‘It’s the cards, too. I know you’ll get angry. I know you won’t understand. But this morning a woman was shot dead up at Canaan and I believe that the cards predicted it.’
Trevor stared at her. His hair was still sticking up at the back. ‘For God’s sake, Momma, this doesn’t make any sense at all.’
‘The Headless Doll, that was the card that came up, and when the Headless Doll comes up it always means that a child is going to be orphaned. And that’s what happened.’
‘Momma, this is insanity! The cards are just cards, they only mean what you want them to mean! Look—we really don’t mind. If you don’t want to come to Florida, then don’t! But why not come straight out and say so, instead of making this ridiculous pretense that the cards are telling you not to?’
‘But they are ! They’re trying to tell me that something dreadful is going to happen! Can’t you see? It’s already started, and it’s going to get ten times worse!’
‘All right!’ Trevor shouted. ‘All right! Supposing the cards are right! Supposing they really can predict what’s going to happen, and it’s going to be terrible! What do you think you can do about it? Hmh? Tell the police? Call up the National Guard? “I’m a sixty-seven-year-old widow and my cards tell me that something terrible is going to happen!” What do you think they’re going to say to that?’
Sissy went across to the coffee table, picked up her pack of Marlboro, took one out and defiantly lit it. She blew out smoke, and then she said, ‘You and Jean, you believe you have a duty. Well, I have a duty, too. I love you, Trevor, and you know I love Jean and little Jake. But the people around here, they’re going to need me in the next few weeks, and that’s why I have to stay. I feel it in my bones: there’s no other way of explaining it.’
Trevor looked around the room; at the clutter of pictures on the walls; at the antique chairs with their scatter-cushions; and the gaggle of occasional tables; and the old carpet-bag that Sissy kept her sewing in; and the week-old newspapers stacked beside the fireplace.
‘It’s all right,’ said Sissy. ‘You can throw this all away, when I die. I won’t be upset. But it’s my life, and I want to go on living it.’
Trevor puffed out his cheeks, and then he said, ‘OK, if that’s the way you want it. But I don’t understand you at all. It’s like—I don’t know. I just can’t follow the way you think.’
‘I am your real mother, if that’s what you’re getting at. I was there when you were born.’
‘Very funny, Momma. Look . . . if you change your mind before six o’clock today, give me a call, will you?’
He pulled on his balaclava and for a moment Sissy wanted so much to say to him, make sure you’ve got your lunch money and your clean handkerchief and don’t be home too late; but those days had long gone, and all the photograph albums in the world could never bring them back.
The Headless Doll
T he wind began to rise, so that the snow in the Mitchelsons’ back yard was whipped up into little dancing fairies.
Jim came trudging up to the swing-set and leaned against the upright. His cheeks were bright red and there was a clear drip swinging on the end of his
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