Wait and Tremble: Part Three (Madame's House)

    “Not so blasted fast!” Madame screeched. Jonas looked at her stern grey hair, and wondered how Archie had the nerve to pretend he didn’t hear her. Her lips were tight, but her fingers flew over the yarn in her lap. Jonas watched Ma watching her. The yarn was red, like a cherry sucker. Jonas wondered if she was making something for a little boy to wear, or if she would only drop the piece in a dusty corner of her house. It seemed to help her with the stress of Archie’s driving. Madame glanced down and caught them watching. Jonas jerked his neck and looked out the window, but the jostling trees only made his legs hurt more. Madame used up the little ball of yarn she had before they came to a breathless halt before a tall house. Jonas looked at the old trees in the yard as Archie carried him in, trying not to whimper when his legs were moved.

     “It’s all right, Jonas,” Ma said. Her face was white. Jonas wished she would suck the red out of the yarn into her cheeks. He was afraid that she would be sick, or cry. He didn’t know what to do when she cried. He was remembering the last time she cried when the old trees grew dizzy and faded.

     “He’s a strong lad,” someone said loudly. “He’s got good bones in him.” Jonas squinted up through bright light into a bearded face. Ma was holding his hand, less pale now. The bearded man showed his teeth and patted Jonas’s head, then walked out. Jonas looked for Madame. He was in blue room, with fish painted on the walls.

     “Are you all right, Ma?” he asked. Ma jumped and jerked her eyes from the door.

     “Me?” she asked. “I’m not the one run over by horses, young man. How do you feel?”

     “I wasn’t really run over, Ma. Just kicked a good bit,” Jonas said, trying to move his legs. They were sore and bandaged, but they moved just fine.

     “Hush,” she said, smoothing his hair to the side of his forehead. “Rest now. I’ll take you home as soon as you’re well.” Jonas nodded, but he wanted to say that he didn’t want to go just yet. This room with the fish was more interesting than where he slept at home. He had a warm feeling that Madame had books and sailboats, and perhaps a pond to play in. He wouldn’t need to wait, here. He could read, and ask Madame questions. He was hearing his first question in his head, about the yarn, and then his eyes were so heavy.

***

      Jonas opened his eyes and shrank back. A very pretty lady was leaning on the table next to his bed, staring at him. The corner of her mouth curled when she saw his open eyes.

     “Bout time, sonny boy. I’ve been a-waitin’ for much too long,” she said. Her bottom lip pouted, and Jonas felt sorry for making her wait, though he knew all about waiting. He blinked, and let her help him sit up. “Soup,” she said, cupping his chin and holding a spoon full of yellow cream. Jonas opened and swallowed. His stomach grumbled as the first drops fell down his throat. She fed him almost faster than he could swallow, and he had the feeling of running a race when she finally scraped the bowl clean. She patted his head, and he said ‘thank you’, very quietly.

     “Doctor’ll be in, then Madame wants ta see you,” she said. She snatched the bowl and spoon and marched out. Jonas pulled down the cover and looked at his legs. They were stiff, but not as sore as they had been. The bearded man came in and poked about his legs, then took off the white wrapping and replaced it. Jonas tried not to look at the scrapes, but then he realized that it didn’t make him feel sick. The doctor bared his teeth at him, but only after the door clicked shut did Jonas realize that that was supposed to be a smile.

     “You’re a strange boy,” Madame said. Jonas jumped. He hadn’t heard her come in.

     “You’re a strange lady,” Jonas said, tilting his head to look at her. Madame leaned back and laughed, deep in her throat. Jonas stared at her. "What are you going to do with the yarn?" he asked. Madame was still laughing, with tears on her cheeks. Suddenly she stopped, and looked close.

     "I'm creating with the yarn, boy," she said. She looked fierce again. Jonas wondered if he should just be quiet. He nodded sagely, as if he understood creating.

     "Is my mother still here?" he asked. 

     "She is sleeping in her room," she said, jerking her finger toward the wall. Jonas's stomach loosened a little. "I think she likes it here," Madame said, raising her eyebrows. Jonas was interested by her eyebrows. They were exactly the same as her hair, stern and stiff. 

     "I like it here," he said. "I like the fish." She bobbed her head, stooping her shoulders.

     "Fish live in the ocean, so of course I like them. I'll show you the ocean room once you can get around a bit better," she said, moving to leave. Jonas watched her, wishing she could stay. "Understand, boy," she said, dropping her fingers to the mattress beside him. "You are not a normal boy, and so I say what I wish to you. Not all adults will be so kind." Jonas crossed his arms and listened to the sound of the clicking latch. Madame's presence seemed to linger by the bed, her fingers on the mattress.