Читать книгу Miss Lamp - Christopher Ewart - Страница 18

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The Dog’s Breakfast.

Young Young Miss Lamp’s finger pressed Abby to tears. Band-aids filled up with iron, too soaked to swallow. When the ugly words were packed and zipped away for the drive back home from Florida, the nail on her index finger turned purple and fell off. It itched.

Abby cried after the nail fell off. They sat together on the squeaky porch swing while it decided to peel free. ‘It’s not itchy anymore, Mom.’ The purple nail curved upward. A tiny dried-up leaf of a jade plant.

‘Your grandma cares about you, dear.’ Abby placed the nail gently in her pocket. ‘I’m sorry I dented your finger. Does it hurt still?’

‘No.’ Young Young Miss Lamp was an exceptional liar and gave it a rub. ‘But it feels funny on top, and I bet I’ll have a scar.’

The porch swing kicked back as Abby went inside. Her daughter jumped at the smack of the wooden screen door. High up in the willow tree, finches chirped amongst themselves and warmed the sun to pink.

Young Young Miss Lamp touched her finger once, twice, slowly, at home below a busy cloud of gnats. She didn’t have a dog, so she swung in her seat waiting for the chocolate Lab behind the whiteboard fence to chase that garbage-eating magpie through a hole large enough to fit a magpie but not a chocolate Lab. The Lab pawed and pushed its nose just above the breeze line of the fence, only to snort, sniff, howl and scratch back down the fence. The smell of magpie. A lean Christmas turkey.

‘Poor stupid dog.’ Young Young Miss Lamp gave him a whistle. ‘I’m going to have a scar for certain.’

She glimpsed the dog through the slats of the well-flaked fence, shy a coat of white paint. The dog whimpered to a standstill with a cloud of busy gnats gathering around his chocolate Lab head. His jaw clacked in a snap.

‘It’s simple, dog,’ she continued with a squint. ‘Your masters will never let you catch that squawky magpie. That’s what the hole in the fence is for. Who wants to clean up a dead bird in their backyard? Stupid dog.’ The gnats parted for Young Young Miss Lamp as she rose to her feet.

The breeze was unseasonably warm.