Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 70429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
I climbed onto a chair, opened her cage door, the way I’d seen Mama do, and poured the seeds into her little bowl, then closed it shut. I looked in the bottom of my cup, and some of the seeds were stuck there.
“There you go, Sue-Sue,” I called her.
Sue made quick work of gobbling her meal. I hadn’t seen her eat that fast before. Maybe she hadn’t been fed in a while? Mama was pretty good about takin’ care of Sue. Maybe she forgot because she was havin’ that tiff with that man I hadn’t seen right before she went to sleep?
Shoving the thought out of my mind, I returned to Mama’s bedroom, and sat under her again. I went back to coloring, but now the sun was starting to set, and it was getting dark in the house, making it harder to see. I wasn’t too good with tellin’ time, but I knew it was later in the day ’cause the sun was droppin’ low. I got up off the floor, and turned-on Mama’s bedroom lamp.
This time when I looked up at her in this new lighting, her complexion seemed much paler than before. Mama was fair, but her cheeks were naturally rosy, and she had a glow about her. Now, she looked matte and dry. Maybe she was thirsty?
I pushed my little finger into her ankle, and then again… and she started swinging. Back and forth. I did it once more, and I shivered. She was cold… so cold. Mama was usually warm and smelled like flowers and that lotion she liked to buy on her birthday and Christmas.
I stood back and watched as she swung slowly back and forth like a pendulum, her head mostly down, crooked in a strange way about the neck. It was almost like her neck was broken, but I couldn’t see any blood and bone. A mop of long, black hair, same color as mine, was all in disarray. Her ice blue eyes, also like mine, were half opened with a flatness about them. She was looking at me, but not exactly. It was like she saw me, but she didn’t. Her lips were slightly parted, as if she was about to say something but forgot what it was.
“Mama… come on down from there,” I managed to squeak out after hours of silence. Another tear rolled down my cheek. I couldn’t figure out why I was crying. Perhaps it was because deep down I knew Mama wasn’t coming down no time soon, but my brain wanted to believe that if she just got down from that there rafter, she’d be okay, then tell me to clean up my bedroom and come on for supper. But Mama didn’t come down. She stayed put, swaying to Madonna’s ‘Dress You Up in My Love,’ all over again. It played and played, the only song on that single CD.
Somehow, I had fallen asleep without even realizing it. When I woke up, the birds were chirping outside and the sun was back up. Madonna was telling me again about dressin’ up in her love, from her head down to her toes. Sue was squawkin’ something fierce. I wiped my eyes and looked up at Mama. Now, she was even paler—almost blue. No gray. Maybe a combination of blue and gray, whatever color that is called.
I pushed my finger against her ankle again, but this time, there was no give. She was hard. Like wood. I pushed her harder and she swung, but this time, her body didn’t sway the same way it did before, either. It looked freakish. Unreal. Like a doll’s. I screamed, then screamed again. Quietly.
Inside, I was shrieking. I was screaming so loud within myself. I imagined my ears began to bleed out tears. I went over to the phone and picked it up—still no dial tone. Mama said somethin’ about the telephone bill needing paid before I could call my pappy. Grandpa and I spoke on the phone sometimes, but I couldn’t call him. I couldn’t call nobody. Somebody had to get Mama down from there, so she could be okay again. There was nobody close to us, and I just didn’t know what to do. I thought about goin’ outside and walkin’ down the road, but I didn’t much know my way, or where to head off to. I decided to go use the bathroom, eat more crackers, and give Sue-Sue some water and more seed instead. Just like Mama used to do.
By the time the sun began to set again, I’d finished my coloring book. The last page was all black. I colored Oscar the Grouch all black, with red eyes. His trashcan was black. The clouds behind him—black, too. I didn’t recall doing that, but I must’ve. Another day went by. I woke up, gathered another coloring book and returned to Mama, ready to color all over again, and then show her my good colorin’ work. I sat down beneath her and looked up at her.