Slippers
Opal had no choice but to phone Aunt Mildred and tell her about Aunt Frances.
Opal missed the days, not that long ago, when Aunt Frances had a snack waiting for Opal after school—usually an apple muffin and a glass of milk or a piece of pound cake and a cup of weak tea. And then the two of them would pile onto the couch and watch late afternoon talk shows. When the news came on, Aunt Fran and Opal prepared dinner: toast and scrambled eggs or red beans and rice.
But ever since last Tuesday, Aunt Fran stopped doing anything except sitting and staring; and now, lying down and staring straight up at the ceiling.
And so Opal had no choice.
Aunt Mildred barreled through the front door without even ringing the bell.
“Where is she?” Aunt Mildred demanded from beneath the wool hood of the tan coat she wore every winter for the last 12 years, as far back as 14-year-old Opal could recall. Opal pointed toward the bedroom, and Aunt Mildred walked in, closing the door behind her.
Opal sat in the big chair by the window, looking out at the street and sky. “Please, Please, Please,” she said aloud. “Make her get mad enough to get out of bed.” Opal spoke to no one in particular—maybe God, if there was one, maybe just to the air. Sometimes talking out loud made wishes come true.
A thumping sound made Opal leap off the chair. Just then, Aunt Mildred opened the bedroom door as one of Aunt Frances’ slippers came sailing behind and hit Aunt Mildred in the head. Opal noticed the other slipper lay on the floor, presumably having been the cause of the earlier thump.
Aunt Frances stood next to her bed, her gown all crumpled, her eyes more lively than Opal had seen in days. “Get her out of my house,” Aunt Fran screamed.
Opal smiled inside, thinking that her out-loud wish had come true. But then, just as if the slipper throwing had never happened, Aunt Frances sat back down on the bed, the blank look in her eyes replacing her previous fire.
“Let’s pack her things,” Aunt Mildred said.
Opal felt so mad at Aunt Frances she could hardly stand it. They had talked about this, Opal and Aunt Fran—that the next time she had one of her spells, she would snap out of it, for Opal’s sake.
“You’re supposed to snap out of it!” Opal screamed.
Opal picked up one of the slippers and threw it at Aunt Frances, hitting her in the leg. And before Opal could throw the other slipper, Aunt Mildred took hold of her arm and stopped her.
Opal looked from Aunt Mildred to Aunt Frances. She had no words. Her throat closed up, and she ran past Aunt Mildred, through the kitchen, past the sink full of dirty dishes, and out the back door.
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Another good one! I love this series.
Guri 16 January 10