Emma Donoghue - Room - A Novel

“It wasn’t an ordeal to Jack, it was just how things were. And, yeah, maybe, but everybody’s damaged by something.”

“He certainly seems to be taking giant steps toward recovery,” says the puffy-hair woman. “Now, you said just now it was ‘easier to control’ Jack when you were in captivity—”

“No, control things. ”

“You must feel an almost pathological need — understandably — to stand guard between your son and the world.”

“Yeah, it’s called being a mother.” Ma nearly snarls it.

“Is there a sense in which you miss being behind a locked door?”

Ma turns to Morris. “Is she allowed to ask me such stupid questions?”

The puffy-hair woman holds out her hand and another person puts a bottle of water into it, she takes a sip.

Dr. Clay holds his hand up. “If I may — I think we’re all getting the sense that my patient is at her limit, in fact past it.” “If you need a break, we could resume taping later,” the woman tells Ma.

Ma shakes her head. “Let’s just get it done.”

“OK, then,” says the woman, with another of her wide smiles that’s fake like a robot’s. “There’s something I’d like to return to, if I may. When Jack was born — some of our viewers have been wondering whether it ever for a moment occurred to you to . . .”

“What, put a pillow over his head?”

Is that me Ma means? But pillows go under heads.

The woman waves her hand side to side. “Heaven forbid. But did you ever consider asking your captor to take Jack away?” “Away?”

“To leave him outside a hospital, say, so he could be adopted. As you yourself were, very happily, I believe.”

I can see Ma swallow. “Why would I have done that?”

“Well, so he could be free.”

“Free away from me?”

“It would have been a sacrifice, of course — the ultimate sacrifice — but if Jack could have had a normal, happy childhood with a loving family?” “He had me.” Ma says it one word at a time. “He had a childhood with me, whether you’d call it normal or not.” “But you knew what he was missing,” says the woman. “Every day he needed a wider world, and the only one you could give him got narrower. You must have been tortured by the memory of everything Jack didn’t even know to want. Friends, school, grass, swimming, rides at the fair . . .”

“Why does everyone go on about fairs?” Ma’s voice is all hoarse. “When I was a kid I hated fairs.”

The woman does a little laugh.

Ma’s got tears coming down her face, she puts up her hands to catch them. I’m off my chair and running at her, something falls over smaaaaaaash, I get to Ma and wrap her all up, and Morris is shouting, “The boy is not to be shown—”

When I wake up in the morning Ma’s Gone.

I didn’t know she’d have days like this in the world. I shake her arm but she only does a little groan and puts her head under the pillow. I’m so thirsty, I wriggle near to try and have some but she won’t turn and let me. I stay curled beside her for hundreds of hours.

I don’t know what to do. In Room if Ma was being Gone I could get up on my own and make breakfast and watch TV.

I sniff, there’s nothing in my nose, I think I’ve lost my cold.

I go pull the cord to make the blind open a bit. It’s bright, the light’s bouncing off a car window. A crow goes by and scares me. I don’t think Ma likes the light so I do the cord back. My tummy goes yawrrrrrrr.

Then I remember the buzzer by the bed. I press it, nothing happens. But after a minute the door goes tap tap.

I open it just a bit, it’s Noreen.

“Hi, pet, how are you doing today?”

“Hungry. Ma’s Gone,” I whisper.

“Well, let’s find her, will we? I’m sure she just slipped out for a minute.”

“No, she’s here but she’s not really.”

Noreen’s face goes all confused.

“Look.” I point at the bed. “It’s a day she doesn’t get up.”

Noreen calls Ma by her other name and asks if she’s OK.

I whisper, “Don’t talk to her.” She says to Ma even louder, “Anything I can get you?”

“Let me sleep.” I never heard Ma say anything when she’s Gone before, her voice is like some monster.

Noreen goes over to the dresser and gets clothes for me. It’s hard in the mostly dark, I get both legs in one pant leg for a second and I have to lean on her. It’s not so bad touching people on purpose, it’s worse when it’s them touching me, like electric shocks. “Shoes,” she whispers. I find them and squeeze them on and do the Velcro, they’re not the stretchies I like. “Good lad.” Noreen’s at the door, she waves her hand to make me come with her. I tight my ponytail that was coming out. I find Tooth and my rock and my maple key to put in my pocket.

“Your ma must be worn out after that interview,” says Noreen in the corridor. “Your uncle’s been in Reception for half an hour already, waiting for you guys to wake up.”

The adventure! But no we can’t because Ma’s Gone.

There’s Dr. Clay on the stairs, he talks to Noreen. I’m holding on tight to the rail with two hands, I do one foot down then another, I slide my hands down, I don’t fall, there’s just a second when it feels fally then I’m standing on the next foot. “Noreen.”

“Just a tick.”

“No but, I’m doing the stairs.”

She grins at me. “Would you look at that!”

“Gimme some skin,” says Dr. Clay.

I let go with one hand to high-five him.

“So do you still want to see those dinosaurs?”

“Without Ma?”

Dr. Clay nods. “But you’ll be with your uncle and aunt all the time, you’ll be perfectly safe. Or would you rather leave it till another day?” Yeah but no because another day the dinosaurs might be gone. “Today, please.”

“Good lad,” says Noreen. “That way your ma can have a big snooze and you can tell her all about the dinosaurs when you come back.” “Hey, buddy.” Here’s Paul my Uncle, I didn’t know he was let in the dining room. I think buddy is man talk for sweetie.

I have breakfast with Paul sitting beside, that’s weird. He talks on his little phone, he says it’s Deana on the other end. The other end is the invisible one. There’s juice with no bits today, it’s yum, Noreen says they ordered it specially for me.

“You ready for your first trip outside?” asks Paul.

“I’ve been in Outside six days,” I tell him. “I’ve been in the air three times, I’ve seen ants and helicopters and dentists.” “Wow.”

After my muffin I get my jacket and hat and sunblock and cool shades on. Noreen gives me a brown paper bag in case I can’t breathe. “Anyway,” says Paul when we’re going out the revolving door, “it’s probably best your ma’s not coming with us today, because after that TV show last night, everybody knows her face.” “Everyone in all the world?”

“Pretty much,” says Paul.

In the parking he puts out his hand beside him like I’m meant to hold it. Then he puts it down again.

Something falls on my face and I shout.

“Just a speck of rain,” says Paul.

I stare up at the sky, it’s gray. “Is it going to fall on us?”

“It’s fine, Jack.”

I want to be back in Room Number Seven with Ma even if she’s Gone.

“Here we are . . .”

It’s a green van, Deana’s in the seat with the steering wheel. She waves her fingers at me through the window. I see a smaller face in the middle. The van doesn’t open out, it slides a piece of it and I climb in.

“At last,” says Deana. “Bronwyn, hon, can you say hi to your cousin, Jack?”