Read Online Escapement by Rene Gutteridge - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rene Gutteridge
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lot of things into perspective.”
Rosemary sighed. “But look at him, Mattie. He’s only got a short time to live anyway. What’s the point?”
“I’ve only got a short time to live as well.” The words felt heavy, like my tongue had to lift and throw each one out of my mouth. “Shorter than Abby over there.”
“You’re sick too?”
“Different kind of thing.”
“Tell me.”
“Trust me. You’re not going to understand.”
She focused on my belly. “The blood is dripping on the carpet.”
I looked down and sure enough, blood droplets on the carpet. It was starting to hurt even more.
“Let me at least bandage that up. Put some Neosporin on it.”
I would’ve said no, but I have a thing about clean carpets. This one was super plush and white and here I was ruining it by the second. I know, I know—I’m going to kill this guy but I’m worried about his carpet? It’s just one of those idiosyncrasies that Beth found adorable until lately.
“Fine,” I said. “But you’re not leaving this room without me.”
“I know exactly where the Band-Aids are. We keep all the medical supplies in the hall closet right there.”
I followed Rosemary down the hallway, watched her carefully as she opened the door. The closet had lots of shelves, neatly organized. As she grabbed some gauze and other things, I noticed a small white shoe box labeled “power cables.”
Rosemary closed the closet door. We returned to the living room.
“Just stay standing and I’ll get down like so,” she said, kneeling. She gently pulled up my shirt. I held my breath. I didn’t like my belly exposed. It grossed everybody out, including me. But Rosemary seemed completely unaffected as she blotted and dabbed and tore medical tape with her teeth. She put something cold on and the pain subsided. “This probably should be stitched up,” she said, putting the bandage on. “But this will do for now.”
She backed away from me, taking the Band-Aids and things, and sat in her chair, snapping her medical gloves off.
“Thank you,” I said. I sat down.
“Are we waiting for something?” Abbott asked. “Shouldn’t we just get on with it?”
“Mattie,” Rosemary said, shushing Abbott, “tell me what’s going on. Why has it come to this?”
I looked her straight on. “Rosemary, you seem like a really nice person. Genuinely nice. I wish more people were like you and less like Abby. But there is no way you will understand this.”
“Try me.”
“Okay,” I said stiffly. “Time personified—he goes by Thomas Constant—came to visit me this morning and told me I was going to die in four minutes. He gave me a choice . . . I could either go back and relive any seven hours in my life, or I could extend my life by seven hours. So I chose the latter. And yes, I am using the last seven hours in my life to murder this man. But I don’t want to kill him too early because I don’t want to wait around with the body, and now I’ve got you to contend with, which is making this even more complicated. Questions?”
Rosemary’s mouth was hanging open.
“Didn’t think so. Now, let’s all shut up,” I said, trying to get comfortable in the chair.
Mrs. Cavington was walking by once again, the other direction. “What is she doing?” I asked, gesturing toward the window.
Abbott turned to look. “She does that sometimes. Just walks down the block and back several times. Probably exercising or something.”
Rosemary leaned forward. “How much time do you have?”
My eyes cut to her. “Don’t pretend like you believe what I’m saying.”
“I’m just curious.”
I pulled out the pocket watch. “Forty-eight minutes.” I turned the watch to her. “See how it’s missing some of the numbers? It’s only got the exact number of hours and minutes I’m going to live.”
Rosemary leaned further forward. Her eyes glowed with confusion even though she was nodding. Was she or wasn’t she seeing it?
Whatever. It
Rosemary sighed. “But look at him, Mattie. He’s only got a short time to live anyway. What’s the point?”
“I’ve only got a short time to live as well.” The words felt heavy, like my tongue had to lift and throw each one out of my mouth. “Shorter than Abby over there.”
“You’re sick too?”
“Different kind of thing.”
“Tell me.”
“Trust me. You’re not going to understand.”
She focused on my belly. “The blood is dripping on the carpet.”
I looked down and sure enough, blood droplets on the carpet. It was starting to hurt even more.
“Let me at least bandage that up. Put some Neosporin on it.”
I would’ve said no, but I have a thing about clean carpets. This one was super plush and white and here I was ruining it by the second. I know, I know—I’m going to kill this guy but I’m worried about his carpet? It’s just one of those idiosyncrasies that Beth found adorable until lately.
“Fine,” I said. “But you’re not leaving this room without me.”
“I know exactly where the Band-Aids are. We keep all the medical supplies in the hall closet right there.”
I followed Rosemary down the hallway, watched her carefully as she opened the door. The closet had lots of shelves, neatly organized. As she grabbed some gauze and other things, I noticed a small white shoe box labeled “power cables.”
Rosemary closed the closet door. We returned to the living room.
“Just stay standing and I’ll get down like so,” she said, kneeling. She gently pulled up my shirt. I held my breath. I didn’t like my belly exposed. It grossed everybody out, including me. But Rosemary seemed completely unaffected as she blotted and dabbed and tore medical tape with her teeth. She put something cold on and the pain subsided. “This probably should be stitched up,” she said, putting the bandage on. “But this will do for now.”
She backed away from me, taking the Band-Aids and things, and sat in her chair, snapping her medical gloves off.
“Thank you,” I said. I sat down.
“Are we waiting for something?” Abbott asked. “Shouldn’t we just get on with it?”
“Mattie,” Rosemary said, shushing Abbott, “tell me what’s going on. Why has it come to this?”
I looked her straight on. “Rosemary, you seem like a really nice person. Genuinely nice. I wish more people were like you and less like Abby. But there is no way you will understand this.”
“Try me.”
“Okay,” I said stiffly. “Time personified—he goes by Thomas Constant—came to visit me this morning and told me I was going to die in four minutes. He gave me a choice . . . I could either go back and relive any seven hours in my life, or I could extend my life by seven hours. So I chose the latter. And yes, I am using the last seven hours in my life to murder this man. But I don’t want to kill him too early because I don’t want to wait around with the body, and now I’ve got you to contend with, which is making this even more complicated. Questions?”
Rosemary’s mouth was hanging open.
“Didn’t think so. Now, let’s all shut up,” I said, trying to get comfortable in the chair.
Mrs. Cavington was walking by once again, the other direction. “What is she doing?” I asked, gesturing toward the window.
Abbott turned to look. “She does that sometimes. Just walks down the block and back several times. Probably exercising or something.”
Rosemary leaned forward. “How much time do you have?”
My eyes cut to her. “Don’t pretend like you believe what I’m saying.”
“I’m just curious.”
I pulled out the pocket watch. “Forty-eight minutes.” I turned the watch to her. “See how it’s missing some of the numbers? It’s only got the exact number of hours and minutes I’m going to live.”
Rosemary leaned further forward. Her eyes glowed with confusion even though she was nodding. Was she or wasn’t she seeing it?
Whatever. It
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