Read Online The Rain Barrel Baby by Alison Preston - Free Book Online
Authors: Alison Preston
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deciding she needed it or going to get it. The last thing she remembers is the Squeaks starting, and looking at her watch, she sees that was an hour and sixteen minutes ago. She has been lost inside the Squeaks for all that time and the result is a partially used roll of duct tape.
CHAPTER 16
1960
“Shut up!” the mother shouts. It gets quiet then, too quiet, and she calls for her son. “Ray,” she calls. “Ray, come and see to your sister. The clumsy fool has fallen down the cellar stairs.”
Ray comes running from his bedroom, dread in his heart. He thinks his little sister is dead when he sees her motionless body at the bottom of the steps. In his panic Ray believes for a second it is possible for him to turn this thing around. One of her arms is askew. The elbow is facing the wrong way. He sees her other arm, twisted behind her back and realizes that it is broken too. Two wrecked arms, at the very least. He looks back over his shoulder at the mother who speaks through a cloud of smoke.
“Is she okay, Ray? I…I didn’t mean to push her so hard.”
Ray is afraid to touch her in case he causes more damage where there is already far too much. “Call an ambulance, Mum. Hurry up!”
“An ambulance,” she says. “Surely not.”
“An ambulance, Mum. Right now!”
CHAPTER 17
The Present
Emma was a Winnipeg Free Press delivery person. Her job grew easier and more pleasant as summer approached. Some mornings were so clear and still that she wondered if they were real. Or if she was real in them. She often felt detached, disconnected from the life of the world. It was like looking at a picture in the art gallery and wishing she was in it. That happened sometimes. And it happened walking down Lyndale Drive on her paper route.
Why do I feel this way? she wondered. What’s holding me back? From the outside looking in I would probably appear to be a part of this scene. But I don’t feel it.
There were dog-walkers and exercise freaks in the early morning. She loved the dogs and some of the people weren’t so bad. There was a fluffy white dog named Easy who was her favourite. He was some elaborate purebred and should have been a snob, but what did he know? So he leapt and squealed and received Emma’s attentions just like the mongrels. The man who walked Easy was nice too. His name was Rupe. Emma liked sharing the mornings with these two.
Sometimes their cat came too. Emma envied them this. She wondered if she could teach her cat, Hugh, to follow along on her route. She doubted it.
It was after Easy and Rupe were out of sight that Emma noticed the long car with its closed windows creeping along behind her. It seemed out of place in the morning streets and normal people didn’t drive that slowly. Except for Gus, and this was no Buick. It worried her.
She wished Easy would appear again around the next bend in the road. Or even the Marlboro Man, as Emma had come to call him. He smoked while he walked and Emma got a kick out of him. But the Marlboro Man didn’t walk on Wednesdays.
She felt sure by now that the car was connected to her in some way. But she also worried that maybe she was just being paranoid. And she didn’t want to embarrass herself with her own dark imagination. Time and again she found herself imagining the worst. Picturing death and pain and closed-up spaces. And her dad going out the door into the rain and never coming home. She saw herself by his grave at a policeman’s funeral, where they would give her his badge or hat or whatever they presented the wife with. Because of course the wife wouldn’t be there. Just Emma. And Sadie and Garth. And then she alone would be responsible for them. It would be just her.
She finished up the last of her papers and started to make a beeline for home. The car had disappeared but still she felt uneasy and resented the urgent feeling that pushed her home in such a hurry. What was the point of being up at this hour if you couldn’t enjoy it?
Her
CHAPTER 16
1960
“Shut up!” the mother shouts. It gets quiet then, too quiet, and she calls for her son. “Ray,” she calls. “Ray, come and see to your sister. The clumsy fool has fallen down the cellar stairs.”
Ray comes running from his bedroom, dread in his heart. He thinks his little sister is dead when he sees her motionless body at the bottom of the steps. In his panic Ray believes for a second it is possible for him to turn this thing around. One of her arms is askew. The elbow is facing the wrong way. He sees her other arm, twisted behind her back and realizes that it is broken too. Two wrecked arms, at the very least. He looks back over his shoulder at the mother who speaks through a cloud of smoke.
“Is she okay, Ray? I…I didn’t mean to push her so hard.”
Ray is afraid to touch her in case he causes more damage where there is already far too much. “Call an ambulance, Mum. Hurry up!”
“An ambulance,” she says. “Surely not.”
“An ambulance, Mum. Right now!”
CHAPTER 17
The Present
Emma was a Winnipeg Free Press delivery person. Her job grew easier and more pleasant as summer approached. Some mornings were so clear and still that she wondered if they were real. Or if she was real in them. She often felt detached, disconnected from the life of the world. It was like looking at a picture in the art gallery and wishing she was in it. That happened sometimes. And it happened walking down Lyndale Drive on her paper route.
Why do I feel this way? she wondered. What’s holding me back? From the outside looking in I would probably appear to be a part of this scene. But I don’t feel it.
There were dog-walkers and exercise freaks in the early morning. She loved the dogs and some of the people weren’t so bad. There was a fluffy white dog named Easy who was her favourite. He was some elaborate purebred and should have been a snob, but what did he know? So he leapt and squealed and received Emma’s attentions just like the mongrels. The man who walked Easy was nice too. His name was Rupe. Emma liked sharing the mornings with these two.
Sometimes their cat came too. Emma envied them this. She wondered if she could teach her cat, Hugh, to follow along on her route. She doubted it.
It was after Easy and Rupe were out of sight that Emma noticed the long car with its closed windows creeping along behind her. It seemed out of place in the morning streets and normal people didn’t drive that slowly. Except for Gus, and this was no Buick. It worried her.
She wished Easy would appear again around the next bend in the road. Or even the Marlboro Man, as Emma had come to call him. He smoked while he walked and Emma got a kick out of him. But the Marlboro Man didn’t walk on Wednesdays.
She felt sure by now that the car was connected to her in some way. But she also worried that maybe she was just being paranoid. And she didn’t want to embarrass herself with her own dark imagination. Time and again she found herself imagining the worst. Picturing death and pain and closed-up spaces. And her dad going out the door into the rain and never coming home. She saw herself by his grave at a policeman’s funeral, where they would give her his badge or hat or whatever they presented the wife with. Because of course the wife wouldn’t be there. Just Emma. And Sadie and Garth. And then she alone would be responsible for them. It would be just her.
She finished up the last of her papers and started to make a beeline for home. The car had disappeared but still she felt uneasy and resented the urgent feeling that pushed her home in such a hurry. What was the point of being up at this hour if you couldn’t enjoy it?
Her
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