Emma Donoghue - Room - A Novel

I need to pee, Paul brings me in a bathroom that has funny floppy sinks on the wall. He waves at them. “Go ahead.”

“Where’s the toilet?”

“These are special ones just for us guys.”

I shake my head and go out again.

Deana says I can come with her and Bronwyn, she lets me choose the cubicle. “Great job, Jack, no splashing at all.”

Why would I splashing?

When she takes Bronwyn’s underwear down it’s not like Penis, or Ma’s vagina, it’s a fat little piece of body folded in the middle with no fur. I put my finger on it and press, it’s squishy.

Deana bangs my hand away.

I can’t stop screaming.

“Calm down, Jack. Did I — is your hand hurt?”

There’s all blood coming out of my wrist.

“I’m sorry,” says Deana, “I’m so sorry, it must have been my ring.” She stares at her ring with the gold bits. “But listen, we don’t touch each other’s private parts, that is not OK. OK?”

I don’t know private parts.

“All done, Bronwyn? Let Momma wipe.”

She’s rubbing the same bit of Bronwyn I did but she doesn’t hit herself after.

When I wash my hands it hurts the blood more. Deana keeps digging in her bag for a Band-Aid. She folds up some brown paper towel and tells me to press in on the cut.

“Okelydokely?” asks Paul outside.

“Don’t ask,” says Deana. “Can we get out of here?”

“What about the present for Shirelle?”

“We can wrap up something of Bronwyn’s that looks new.”

“Not something mine,” Bronwyn shouts.

They’re arguing. I want to be in bed with Ma in the dark and her all soft and no invisible music and red-faced wide persons going by and girls laughing with their arms knotted together and bits of them showing through their clothes. I press the cut to stop my blood falling out, I close my eyes walking along, I bang into a plant pot, actually it’s not really a plant like Plant was till she died, it’s plastic of one.

Then I see anybody smiling at me that’s Dylan! I run and give him a huge hug.

“A book,” says Deana, “perfect, give me two seconds.”

“It’s Dylan the Digger, he’s my friend from Room,” I tell Paul. “ ‘Heeeeeeeeere’s Dylan, the sturdy digger! The loads he shovels get bigger and bigger. Watch his long arm delve into the earth —’ ”

“That’s great, buddy. Now can you find where it goes back?”

I’m stroking Dylan’s front, it’s gone all smooth and shiny, how did he get here to the mall?

“Careful you don’t get blood on it.” Paul’s putting a tissue on my hand, my brown paper must have dropped off. “Why don’t you choose a different book that you’ve never read before?”

“Momma, Momma,” Bronwyn’s trying to get a jewelry out of the front of a book.

“Go pay,” says Deana, putting a book in Paul’s hand, she runs over to Bronwyn.

I open my Dora bag, I put Dylan in and zip him up safe.

When Deana and Bronwyn come back we walk near the fountain to hear the splashing but not get splashed. Bronwyn’s saying, “Money, money,” so Deana gives her a coin and Bronwyn throws it in the water.

“Want one?” That’s Deana saying to me.

It must be a special trash for money that’s too dirty. I take the coin and throw it in and get out the wet wipe to clean my fingers.

“Did you make a wish?”

I never made a wish with trash before. “For what?”

“Whatever you’d like best in the world,” says Deana.

What I’d like best is to be in Room but I don’t think that’s in the world.

There’s a man talking to Paul, he’s pointing at my Dora.

Paul comes and unzips it and takes out Dylan. “Ja — Buddy!”

“I am so sorry,” says Deana.

“He’s got a copy at home, you see,” says Paul, “he thought this was his one.” He holds out Dylan to the man.

I run and grab him back, I say, “ ‘Heeeeeeeeere’s Dylan, the sturdy digger! The loads he shovels get bigger and bigger.’ ” “He doesn’t understand,” says Paul.

“ ‘Watch his long arm delve into the earth—’ ”

“Jack, sweetheart, this one belongs to the store.” Deana’s pulling the book out of my hand.

I hold even harder again and push him up my shirt. “I’m from somewhere else,” I tell the man. “Old Nick kept me and Ma locked up and he’s in jail now with his truck but the angel won’t burst him out because he’s a bad guy. We’re famous and if you take our picture we’ll kill you.”

The man blinks.

“Ah, how much is the book?” says Paul.

The man says, “I’ll need to scan it—”

Paul puts out his hand, I curl up on the floor around Dylan.

“Why don’t I get another copy for you to scan,” says Paul and he runs back into the store.

Deana’s looking all around shouting, “Bronwyn? Honey?” She rushes over to the fountain and looks in all along it. “Bronwyn?” Actually Bronwyn’s behind a window with dresses putting her tongue at the glass.

“Bronwyn?” Deana’s screaming.

I put my tongue out too, Bronwyn laughs behind the glass.

I nearly fall asleep in the green van but not really.

Noreen says my Dora bag is magnificent and the shiny heart too and Dylan the Digger looks like a great read. “How were the dinosaurs?” “We didn’t have time to see them.”

“Oh, that’s a pity.” Noreen gets me a Band-Aid for my wrist but there’s no pictures on it. “Your ma’s been snoozing the day away, she’ll be thrilled to see you.” She taps and opens the Door Number Seven.

I take off my shoes but not my clothes, I get in with Ma at last. She’s warmy soft, I snuggle up but carefully. The pillow smells bad.

“See you guys at dinnertime,” whispers Noreen and shuts the door.

The bad is vomit, I remember from our Great Escape. “Wake up,” I say to Ma, “you did sick on the pillow.”

She doesn’t switch on, she doesn’t groan even or roll over, she’s not moving when I pull her. This is the most Gone she’s ever.

“Ma, Ma, Ma.”

She’s a zombie, I think.

“Noreen?” I shout, I run at the door. I’m not meant to disturb the persons but—“Noreen!” She’s at the end of the corridor, she turns around. “Ma did a vomit.”

“Not a bother, we’ll have that cleaned up in two ticks. Let me just get the cart—”

“No, but come now.”

“OK, OK.”

When she switches on the light and looks at Ma she doesn’t say OK, she picks up the phone and says, “Code blue, room seven, code blue—” I don’t know what’s — Then I see Ma’s pill bottles open on the table, they look mostly empty. Never more than two, that’s the rule, how could they be mostly empty, where did the pills go? Noreen’s pressing on the side of Ma’s throat and saying her other name and “Can you hear me? Can you hear me?” But I don’t think Ma can hear, I don’t think she can see. I shout, “Bad idea bad idea bad idea.”

Lots of persons run in, one of them pulls me outside in the corridor. I’m screaming “Ma” as loud as I can but it’s not loud enough to wake her.

I’m in the house with the hammock. I’m looking out the window for it, but Grandma says it would be in the backyard, not the front, anyway it’s not hung up yet because it’s only the tenth of April. There’s bushes and flowers and the sidewalk and the street and the other front yards and the other houses, I count eleven of bits of them, that’s where neighbors live like Beggar My Neighbor. I suck to feel Tooth, he’s right in the middle of my tongue. The white car is outside not moving, I rode in it from the Clinic even though there was no booster, Dr. Clay wanted me to stay for continuity and therapeutic isolation but Grandma shouted that he wasn’t allowed keep me like a prisoner when I do have a family. My family is Grandma Steppa Bronwyn Uncle Paul Deana and Grandpa, only he shudders at me. Also Ma. I move Tooth into my cheek. “Is she dead?”