Читать книгу Miss Lamp - Christopher Ewart - Страница 20

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Lost and Flowered.

The phone in Delano’s office never rang. He had ripped the bells out of it years ago. On the elevator outside his office, down the hall, past two doors to the right, hung a sign that read OUT OF SERVICE. Abby read a sign in the lobby that said USE THE STAIRS.

Holding tight to the banister, she began her ascent. Rounding the second floor, she stooped to tie her shoe and then blew on her sweaty palms. Abby had wanted her mom to come inside and up the stairs with her. But her mom chose to scrape her heels on the sidewalk, pointing up to the busy-looking placard and clutching a note from Mr. Tall about Abby’s barn-like behaviour.

‘Your teacher says you’ve been complaining about your teeth all week, Abby. He isn’t sure why. He suggests I take you to the dentist. So get up there and see what’s wrong with your goddamn teeth. Third door on the left, Abby. See the sign? Hurry up.’ Her mom counted on her fingers. ‘One. Two. Three. Do you know which way left is, Abby dear? Get going! Someone has to pay for your teeth.’ She mustered up some spittle. ‘At least you managed to clean up your shoes, but they still smell like piss and vinegar. I want you to scrub them as soon as you get home. The poor dentist is going to have to plug his nose ’cause of those shoes. Now get going, and don’t forget to stand up straight and smile. Be polite!’

With shoes wiped clean and tied tight, Abby tried to smile as she passed the second floor.

Abby was used to doing things by herself. A shoelace around her neck held a house key. It was nice and cool to touch, and Abby wore it every day. She cooked her own dinner too. Jiffy Pop hurt her teeth, though she popped it without burning a single kernel. Peanut butter and lettuce sandwiches would be easier to eat. Her mom grinned for broccoli and mushy peas with vinegar. Beans on toast and poached eggs. Abby knew just how much vinegar to put in the water. ‘More than a teaspoon, less than a tablespoon, makes those eggs swoon,’ Abby said. Abby was hungry.

Up the flight of stairs to the third floor, Abby grabbed the banister with both hands. A large woman in a chartreuse dress flew past her, throwing a pink plastic hair flower to the ground. Mascara ran down her face in streaks. She was oblivious to Abby, who picked up the flower and stretched to her tiptoes, peering over the railing down to the lobby. ‘Lady, lady! You dropped your flower! Lady! Wait!’

The lady and her beautifully flowing dress of yellowish green disappeared. Abby held the flower. A pink gerbera. It smelled of hairspray. Like perfume. It had a green stem, bendy as a pipe cleaner. Abby put it in her hair and found the third floor. She turned left, three doors down. ‘Excuse me, do you know where the dentist’s is?’ asked Abby.

A man was wiping his teeth with the back of his tie. He checked his breath in his hand and smirked. ‘Why, yes I do, young lady.’ He fixed his tie, adjusting the knot flat to his chest.

‘Is it here?’

‘It is here, and the dentist is me.’

‘Oh.’ Abby stood up straight and pursed her lips.

‘Where’s your mother, young lady? You didn’t come up all these stairs by yourself, did you?’ He seemed concerned.

Abby felt for the flower in her hair. ‘Yes. My mom is out getting money for my teeth.’

‘Teeth, eh? Well. You’ve come to the right place, I’m afraid.’ Abby didn’t smile.

‘Delano’s the name. Low Rates. Satisfaction Guaranteed. No Questions Asked. What’s your name then, young lady?’

‘Abby Lamp.’

‘That’s a nice name, isn’t it? Sounds shiny. Nice to meet you.’ He stuck out his hand.

‘I’m not supposed to shake hands with a stranger, sir.’

Delano sauntered back, ruefully aghast. ‘“Sir”? I’m not a stranger. I’m your dentist. A dentist is never a stranger. Ha.’

Abby sniffed at her vinegar shoes.

‘Well, I suppose we should have a gander at your teeth, young lady. Come on in. Right this way. It’s good and sunny in here today.’

Abby stepped into his office with a squint.

‘Step right this way to the big old chair for a million-dollar smile.’

‘A million dollars?’ Abby gulped. ‘My mom sure doesn’t have a million dollars.’

‘Oh no, young lady. Ha! That’s only a figure of speech. It shouldn’t cost all that much. Special rates for you, my young friend.’

Abby hopped in the big old chair.

‘Sure is a nice flower you have in your hair, Abby Lamp. Pink is a wonderful colour for a girl.’

Abby smiled a little.