Read Online The Phantom Limbs of the Rollow Sisters by Timothy Schaffert - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Timothy Schaffert
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couldn’t tell where the ground ended and the sky began. But on quiet, windless days, Mabel could nearly hear the smoke leaving the chimney.
As Mabel looked for her coat at the front of the shop, Lily stood, grinning, in front of the wall of clocks. “What?” Mabel said. Lily looked Mabel directly in the eyes for the first time in weeks. She held something in her mouth. “What do you have?” Mabel said. Lily kept silent, then slowly pointed to the Swiss clock that hadn’t worked for years. On the tiny wheel beneath the face, the tiny woodsman still stood, his ax still lifted, but the little girl with braids was gone.
Mabel had always wanted to steal the little girl from the clock, to hide it in a chamois bag. Lily tugged on the sleeve of Mabel’s robe, the little wooden girl on her stuck-out tongue. Mabel wanted to rip the tongue clean from Lily’s head.
“Why did you take that?” Mabel said, but she already knew the answer. Lily broke the clock because Mabel wouldn’t. How had Lily even known Mabel wanted the little girl? It seemed it should have been nothing but inconsequential to everyone else. But Lily, with her hateful instinct, knew. Lily took her tongue, and the girl, back into her mouth.
Mabel made a fist, lifted it to her shoulder, and punched Lily. She only barely hit Lily’s ear, but it startled Lily, and she fell, hitting her head against the table before dropping to the floor. Lily’s glasses were knocked from her face, and Mabel noticed a new scratch beneath her eye that slowly reddened with blood. But Lily didn’t cry; she sat with her mouth open, nodding her head quickly like a clucking chicken. When she brought her hands up to press at her own throat, Mabel realized she was choking on the wooden girl. Mabel was toofrightened to scream, though she wanted to, and she spun around in a circle, looking all along the walls of the shop for some suggestion of what to do. Lily opened her mouth wide to Mabel, as if expecting her to reach in.
Mabel found her voice and shouted up the stairs for her mother, uncertain that she would even respond. But her mother did come running from her room, her door slamming into the wall as she threw it open. She hurried down the stairs and, needing no explanation, she put her hands beneath Lily’s arms and lifted her to her feet, then put her hands above Lily’s stomach and squeezed her as if she was a bagpipe. The little wooden girl popped from Lily’s mouth and flew away to be lost in the clutter of the shop.
“That’s it,” their mother said matter-of-factly as Lily coughed. She licked her thumb and wiped the blood from Lily’s cheek.
“Is she all right?” Mabel said, but she was already so relieved. She was relieved that Lily no longer choked and that it was her mother who saved her. Her mother’s cheeks had color, and she stood up straight and ran her fingers through Lily’s hair, scowling at the terrible rat’s nest it had become.
“When was the last time you had a bath?” she said, kneeling to take Lily into her arms, pressing her lips against her forehead. “You’re all right,” she told her, sounding convincing for the first time in weeks. “You’re lucky. People choke on things all the time. I should know, I used to be a waitress.”
“She choked on the little Swiss girl from the clock,” Mabel said, gently pinching Lily’s shoulder as apology for hitting her. “I wonder where it went?”
“We need to find it,” their mother said, jumping up and setting Lily on her feet. “We need to put it back on the clock before your grandmother gets back. You girls have to stop running roughshod over this place.”
Punish us
, Mabel thought.
Spank us. Correct us
. As the three of them moved about the shop, they picked things up and put things back and quickly became distracted from their mission. Lily tried on an old felt hat and pulled the lace of it down over her face. Mabel’s mother sorted through a box of reading spectacles, testing
As Mabel looked for her coat at the front of the shop, Lily stood, grinning, in front of the wall of clocks. “What?” Mabel said. Lily looked Mabel directly in the eyes for the first time in weeks. She held something in her mouth. “What do you have?” Mabel said. Lily kept silent, then slowly pointed to the Swiss clock that hadn’t worked for years. On the tiny wheel beneath the face, the tiny woodsman still stood, his ax still lifted, but the little girl with braids was gone.
Mabel had always wanted to steal the little girl from the clock, to hide it in a chamois bag. Lily tugged on the sleeve of Mabel’s robe, the little wooden girl on her stuck-out tongue. Mabel wanted to rip the tongue clean from Lily’s head.
“Why did you take that?” Mabel said, but she already knew the answer. Lily broke the clock because Mabel wouldn’t. How had Lily even known Mabel wanted the little girl? It seemed it should have been nothing but inconsequential to everyone else. But Lily, with her hateful instinct, knew. Lily took her tongue, and the girl, back into her mouth.
Mabel made a fist, lifted it to her shoulder, and punched Lily. She only barely hit Lily’s ear, but it startled Lily, and she fell, hitting her head against the table before dropping to the floor. Lily’s glasses were knocked from her face, and Mabel noticed a new scratch beneath her eye that slowly reddened with blood. But Lily didn’t cry; she sat with her mouth open, nodding her head quickly like a clucking chicken. When she brought her hands up to press at her own throat, Mabel realized she was choking on the wooden girl. Mabel was toofrightened to scream, though she wanted to, and she spun around in a circle, looking all along the walls of the shop for some suggestion of what to do. Lily opened her mouth wide to Mabel, as if expecting her to reach in.
Mabel found her voice and shouted up the stairs for her mother, uncertain that she would even respond. But her mother did come running from her room, her door slamming into the wall as she threw it open. She hurried down the stairs and, needing no explanation, she put her hands beneath Lily’s arms and lifted her to her feet, then put her hands above Lily’s stomach and squeezed her as if she was a bagpipe. The little wooden girl popped from Lily’s mouth and flew away to be lost in the clutter of the shop.
“That’s it,” their mother said matter-of-factly as Lily coughed. She licked her thumb and wiped the blood from Lily’s cheek.
“Is she all right?” Mabel said, but she was already so relieved. She was relieved that Lily no longer choked and that it was her mother who saved her. Her mother’s cheeks had color, and she stood up straight and ran her fingers through Lily’s hair, scowling at the terrible rat’s nest it had become.
“When was the last time you had a bath?” she said, kneeling to take Lily into her arms, pressing her lips against her forehead. “You’re all right,” she told her, sounding convincing for the first time in weeks. “You’re lucky. People choke on things all the time. I should know, I used to be a waitress.”
“She choked on the little Swiss girl from the clock,” Mabel said, gently pinching Lily’s shoulder as apology for hitting her. “I wonder where it went?”
“We need to find it,” their mother said, jumping up and setting Lily on her feet. “We need to put it back on the clock before your grandmother gets back. You girls have to stop running roughshod over this place.”
Punish us
, Mabel thought.
Spank us. Correct us
. As the three of them moved about the shop, they picked things up and put things back and quickly became distracted from their mission. Lily tried on an old felt hat and pulled the lace of it down over her face. Mabel’s mother sorted through a box of reading spectacles, testing
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