the real concern in her sweet green eyes and all off a sudden it didn’t hurt as much. “I’m gonna pull up your sweat shirt now.”
“ Okay.” He was glad it was her and not some doctor in a hospital.
“ Ready?” She moved into place behind him.
“ Easy.” His skin tingled with the electric shock of her hands on his back.
“ Just sit up straight. I’ll try not to hurt you,” she said as her small fingers grabbed both the sweatshirt and flannel pajama top. “Can you raise your hands?”
“ Sure.” He winced and raised his arms. She pulled the two shirts over his head, slowly and carefully.
“ There’s a lot of blood, maybe we should call the paramedics,” she said, getting off the bed.
“ I’ll get in a lot of trouble. Can’t you just put a bandage on it?” He didn’t think it hurt that much anymore and he wondered if she was looking at his fat and laughing.
“ I’m going to drop your bloody clothes in the bathtub. Then I’ll get a washcloth and some peroxide. My mother always puts peroxide on every cut and scrape to kill the infection. Don’t go away.”
“ Where would I go?”
“ I don’t know, just don’t.” She started to leave the room.
“ Wait,” he said, “could you turn the radio on. I really like the Beatles.”
“ You can’t be hurt that bad.” She moved around the other bed and turned on the radio.
The Beatles were singing about the girl with kaleidoscope eyes.
“ This is great, they’re gonna play the whole album.”
“ I could’ve just played the CD if you wanted to hear Sgt. Pepper.”
“ It’s not the same as hearing it on the radio. Could you turn it up?”
“ Why not?” She turned it up a little, but not full blast like it was earlier.
“ Because when you hear it on the radio, you know you’re sharing the music with all the other people listening. It’s not like you’re alone in your room, with headphones, trying to block out the world.”
“ I never thought of it like that,” she said as she was leaving the room.
* * *
The medicines were in the hall bathroom. She went straight for the medicine cabinet, opened it, took out the peroxide and noticed two partially used inhalers on the bottom shelf. She took one out and gave herself two puffs, for safety’s sake, then put it back. She still had the one in her pocket. With the peroxide in her hand, she hurried into the kitchen, but stopped as soon as she entered the room.
She started to reach for the light switch, but stayed her hand. She heard a faint scratching sound, mingled with the music filtering from her room, but couldn’t tell where it was coming from, the living room, dining room or the hallway behind her. She had thought she was safe. They’d heard a car go screeching away. But cars can come back. She heard the sound again as it intermixed and twisted with the music and rippled stereo-like throughout the house
She wanted to go shooting back to her bedroom and the safe and familiar sound of one of her very most favorite songs, She’s Leaving Home, because that’s what she’d been wanting to do for a long time, but her feet were frozen in place. What if it was behind her? She had to know where it was coming from, before she could run away from it. She listened for the sound, but heard only the thump, thump, thump of her pulse beating between her ears, till it drowned out the soothing sounds of John, Paul, George and Ringo. She took small, silent breaths, not wanting to betray her position. She wondered how, whoever it was, had gotten in the house. The windows were all locked and the front and back doors were deadbolted shut.
It wasn’t possible for someone to be in here with her. She heard the sound again. There was no mistaking where it was coming from this time. It was in the kitchen with her. She wanted to scream, but her mouth was frozen shut and dry. She had never been so thirsty. She caught a quick vision of Arty gulping down the water from her rinsing glass.
“ Okay.” He was glad it was her and not some doctor in a hospital.
“ Ready?” She moved into place behind him.
“ Easy.” His skin tingled with the electric shock of her hands on his back.
“ Just sit up straight. I’ll try not to hurt you,” she said as her small fingers grabbed both the sweatshirt and flannel pajama top. “Can you raise your hands?”
“ Sure.” He winced and raised his arms. She pulled the two shirts over his head, slowly and carefully.
“ There’s a lot of blood, maybe we should call the paramedics,” she said, getting off the bed.
“ I’ll get in a lot of trouble. Can’t you just put a bandage on it?” He didn’t think it hurt that much anymore and he wondered if she was looking at his fat and laughing.
“ I’m going to drop your bloody clothes in the bathtub. Then I’ll get a washcloth and some peroxide. My mother always puts peroxide on every cut and scrape to kill the infection. Don’t go away.”
“ Where would I go?”
“ I don’t know, just don’t.” She started to leave the room.
“ Wait,” he said, “could you turn the radio on. I really like the Beatles.”
“ You can’t be hurt that bad.” She moved around the other bed and turned on the radio.
The Beatles were singing about the girl with kaleidoscope eyes.
“ This is great, they’re gonna play the whole album.”
“ I could’ve just played the CD if you wanted to hear Sgt. Pepper.”
“ It’s not the same as hearing it on the radio. Could you turn it up?”
“ Why not?” She turned it up a little, but not full blast like it was earlier.
“ Because when you hear it on the radio, you know you’re sharing the music with all the other people listening. It’s not like you’re alone in your room, with headphones, trying to block out the world.”
“ I never thought of it like that,” she said as she was leaving the room.
* * *
The medicines were in the hall bathroom. She went straight for the medicine cabinet, opened it, took out the peroxide and noticed two partially used inhalers on the bottom shelf. She took one out and gave herself two puffs, for safety’s sake, then put it back. She still had the one in her pocket. With the peroxide in her hand, she hurried into the kitchen, but stopped as soon as she entered the room.
She started to reach for the light switch, but stayed her hand. She heard a faint scratching sound, mingled with the music filtering from her room, but couldn’t tell where it was coming from, the living room, dining room or the hallway behind her. She had thought she was safe. They’d heard a car go screeching away. But cars can come back. She heard the sound again as it intermixed and twisted with the music and rippled stereo-like throughout the house
She wanted to go shooting back to her bedroom and the safe and familiar sound of one of her very most favorite songs, She’s Leaving Home, because that’s what she’d been wanting to do for a long time, but her feet were frozen in place. What if it was behind her? She had to know where it was coming from, before she could run away from it. She listened for the sound, but heard only the thump, thump, thump of her pulse beating between her ears, till it drowned out the soothing sounds of John, Paul, George and Ringo. She took small, silent breaths, not wanting to betray her position. She wondered how, whoever it was, had gotten in the house. The windows were all locked and the front and back doors were deadbolted shut.
It wasn’t possible for someone to be in here with her. She heard the sound again. There was no mistaking where it was coming from this time. It was in the kitchen with her. She wanted to scream, but her mouth was frozen shut and dry. She had never been so thirsty. She caught a quick vision of Arty gulping down the water from her rinsing glass.
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