writer's block is present in this chapter. :P

chapter twelve | whipped cream

All I could hear were the sirens blaring around me. The unpalatable shrills engulfed me into a dizzy trance, one of which I could not escape. The flashing red lights were so mesmerizing. They brought nothing but unhappiness to me. They signalled danger, anguish, and only dismal things to come. The lights and the shrieks slowly faded away from my senses.

    “Do you need a ride home?”

    I turned around. Owen was standing there, his blank face showing signs of pity. “I don’t know,” I replied. “I have to call my dad.”

    “Do you need a phone?”

    I shook my head. I felt numb inside. “I have one.”

    “Are you going to call him?”

    I looked down at my hand. Reaching him was only a click away. “Right.”

    I made no move to press the icon on my screen.

    “Do you want me to call him for you?” Owen offered.

    I shook my head once more. “I should be the one to do it.”

    “Okay.” With that, he turned his back on me and disappeared through the door.

My screen locked itself, forcing me to enter my passcode to unlock it. Robotically, I did. I pressed “call,” mashed the phone against my ear, and listened to the dial tone until I heard a voice. It was Yolanda who answered.

“Flossy’s, how can I help you?”

“Yolanda? Is my dad there?”

“Flossy?”

“Yes. Can you put my dad on the line?”

“He’s with a patient right now. Can I take a message?”

    I didn’t have the time to wait for Dad to finish. “No. It’s an emergency.”

    Silence. “All right. Hold on.”

    My dad’s voice. “Flossy, what’s wrong?”

    “It’s Mom. I need you to pick me up and go to the hospital.”

    “What happened?”   

    “Can we just talk about this later? It’s urgent.”

    “I’m on my way.”

    The line was dead.

    He arrived at the theater in no time, but the traffic was crazy. Dad’s face was scrunched and knitted with concern. “What happened, Flossy?”

    “I don’t really know all of the details, but I do know she fell off the catwalk and hurt her arms.”

    Dad looked dumbly at me. “What exactly is a catwalk?”

    “It’s the platform above the stage where all the lights are.”

    Dad’s eyes bugged out. “She fell off of that?”

    “Apparently. I heard it from Andrew, the director.”

    “I guess we’ll find out when we arrive at the hospital, yeah?”

    Once traffic subsided, we got to the hospital within ten minutes. Haphazardly, he parked and we darted into the building. “Emmeline Waldroup, please,” Dad said urgently at the lady in the lobby.

    “Please calm down, sir. You’ll scare the others.”

    He remained quiet but continued to tap his fingers obnoxiously on the counter, in hopes that it would speed up the process. It only annoyed her more. “Could you repeat the name?”

    “Emmeline Waldroup. She came in here not too long ago from an MMR vehicle.”

    “Ah, yes. Are you family?”

    “I’m her husband. This is our daughter.”

    “Do you have any identification on you, sir?”

    Dad pulled out his wallet and threw his driver’s license on the counter angrily. All he wanted to do was see his wife. The lady looked it painstakingly slow. “All right, Mr. Waldroup. She’s in serious condition right now. She’s not allowed to have any visitors, but you may wait outside her room if you wish.”

    “I wish.”

    “She’ll be in Room 313.”

    “Thank you.”

    “You’re welcome. And sir?”

    “Yes?”

    “Please use your inside voice.”

    Those words took me back to elementary school. It was horrible how she was treating my dad like he was a child.

    Dad gave a stiff nod and we were on our way to Mom.

+++

Mom was resting quietly. We watched her through the window leading into the room. The benches that we sat on were cold, hard, and uncomfortable. Dad was talking to the doctor. I caught bits and pieces of the conversation.

    “...landed on her hands...snapped her forearm...severe condition...paralysis…permanent…”

    I heard several gasps from Dad. “And there’s no surgery that can cure her?” I was positive there would be tears welling up in his eyes if there weren’t already.

    “Like I said, it’s permanent. Prosthetic arms are being developed, but it’s still fairly new.”

Dad let out a heavy sigh. “Can we see her?”

“She’s resting. I think it’s best if we wait until tomorrow for visits, don’t you think?”   

“You’re the doctor,” Dad said grudgingly.

The doctor nodded. “I sincerely apologize. I’m sorry we can’t do anything to help.”

“Me too.”

The doctor left, leaving Dad and I to mourn for our now-disabled mother. “She’ll still eb the same,” I said, hoping to comfort him.

“No she won’t.”

“She’s still Mom. She didn’t lose any of her personality.”

“We’ll see.”

It killed me to see Dad be pessimistic for once in his life. He was always the positive one between him and Mom.I had the eeriest feeling that Mom would be the optimistic one from now on. I wasn’t sure how I felt about this switch-a-roo, other than that I was glad that they both wouldn’t be melancholic.

    I was home alone for the night. Dad wanted to stay at the hospital in case Mom woke up and wanted someone there with her. The love between them was so deep that Eunice would be rolling around in her own envy. I was the product of their love, so Eunice should’ve been jealous of me. Joking, but I found it sweet that he was willing to stay overnight in a hospital that was far from hospitalible. It just proved that love did last past the honeymoon period and that love made you do crazy (well, unpreferable) things.

    I fixed myself a couple of pancakes. They turned out all right. Not as crispy and fluffy as I would have liked them to be, but they would do for tonight. Transferring them from the pan to the plate and turning off the stove, I grabbed a fork and sat at the empty dining room table. Remembering that there was no parental authority, I dragged my butt to the living room and plopped it in Dad’s chair. I had the immediate craving of something sweet, light, and airy. I set the plate on the side table, marched to the fridge, and pulled out a container of whipped cream. I grabbed a soup spoon from the drawer and returned to my cozy seat in the family room. I switched on the television, scooping generous spoonfuls onto my pancakes.

+++

Morning came. I received a phone call from my dad saying that Mom was awake. She wasn’t feeling much better. He couldn’t leave her side in fear of her being delusional and forgetting him if she happened to somehow slip into a coma, or something drastic like that. I was to ride the bus to the hospital.

    I paid the bus fare and sat in the third row. The buses were fairly clean, as the majority of people traveled by foot or car. A snoozing elderly woman sat in front of me. I thought I saw a strand of saliva (drool?) dribble out of her mouth. Pushing the slightly disturbing thought out of my mind, I concentrated on seeing my mother. From what I picked up yesterday, her paralysis was permanent. The thought terrified me, and I didn’t even know all of the details.

    There was a different woman in the lobby today. “Emmaline Waldroup,” I told her. “I’m her daughter.”

    She repeated the room number and I was on my way. Dad was in the room when I arrived. He looked distressed. Mom didn’t even look like herself. Her arms hung limply by her sides, the mattress supporting them. She tried to smile. “Hi, honey.”

    “Mom…” I breathed.

    She looked down sadly. “I still don’t know if I want an amputation.”

    “Honey,” Dad cut in, “you have plenty of time to think about it. You don’t want to do something rash, do you?”

    “Well, no, but I think it’d be better if I made my decision prompt.” She gestured to the chair next to her with her head. “Come sit.”

    I did. I couldn’t help but stare at her. “What happened, Mom?”

    “Someone told you I fell of the catwalk?”

    I nodded in confirmation.

    “I reached out to grab something once I realized I was slipping. My hands missed, I held my arms out, and my wrists sort of broke my fall. Unfortunately, my arms are now paralyzed.”

    “And there is nothing you can do to reverse the damage?”

    “None that I’m aware of.”

    “I’m sorry, Mom.”

    “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

    “I know, but it still sucks.”

    She nodded. “It does,” she agreed. “But keep your chin up. At least you’ll have your arms. You and your father will have to do the cooking from now on.”

    “Oh, great. We better make friends with all the people from the restaurants that deliver.”

    She smiled. “We’d better. I hope they notified my understudy.”

    I completely forgot that Mom had a lead role in the play. Not only would she have to forfeit her role in this play, this would ruin her career as an actress. All chances of her returning to the stage and in front of the camera were gone. She could kiss her life in Hollywood and of fame goodbye, if she hadn’t already.

    “I’m so sorry, Mom.”

    “I’ll have to find other passions. How do you think I’d be at soccer?”

---

    Miss Walden sat opposite of Alfie. He was on the loveseat with his hands folded neatly together. He was nervous and she was patient. She waited for him to start talking. He needed a push from her to get the ball rolling, to get his mouth moving. It was evident that Miss Walden would not talk until he was completely done, which would not be until he started talking.

    “Um, do you know who Eunice is? Have I mentioned her before?”

    “She’s your girlfriend, correct? Oh. And she’s also friends with that other girl you brought. what was her name? Farrah?”

    “Flossy.”

    “Ah, yes. Flossy.”

    “She was in a similar situation to yours. Eunice, not Flossy.”

    “What sort of situation?” she asked hesitantly.

    “You know,” Alfie said, hoping she would catch on because he didn’t want to spell it out for her. “The incident.”

    Miss Walden jumped back, gasping loudly. Her eyes had a twinkle of fear to them. Alfie knew she had just received a flashback of her dark memory. “By whom?” she growled darkly.

    Alfie went quiet. Marty was a highly respected individual in the community. It would be awful to tarnish his good name, but then again, he had no one but himself to blame. "Marty.”

    Miss Walden remained quiet. Her eyelids fell shut and stayed in that position for quite some time. Alfie wasn’t sure how to react. He didn’t know if he needed to provide some sort of evidence to prove it to her. He decided to just let her absorb the information and would explain more if he had to. After about ten minutes of awkwardness, Alfie had to speak. “Miss Walden?”

    She shushed him gently.

    “Miss Walden?”

    “Be quiet, Alfie.”

    “Miss Walden. I need you to say something.”

    “What would you like me to say, Alfie? Do you want me to call you a liar?”

    His face fell. “You don’t believe me.” That had been a recurring theme, people not believing him. It was as if someone had made him out to be a liar. Alfie didn’t lie. He was a gourmand but not a liar. He couldn’t take someone who called him that, especially when it was someone who he had never lied to before, like Miss Walden. He heartbrokenly uttered, “You...you don’t believe me.”

    “That’s not it,” she replied.

    His volume raised. His tone was intensified. “Then what is it?”

    “It’s because I don’t want to believe you.”

    “What?”

    “Alfie,” she swallowed, “this isn’t the first time Marty’s done something like this.”

    It took him a second or two to connect the dots. “You mean…”

    “Yes, sweetie. If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to this girl.”

    “You want to talk to Eunice?”

    Miss Walden nodded. “If it’s all right with you.”

    Alfie bit his lip. “I don’t know if she’s willing to talk to anyone.”

    “Get her to talk to me, Alfie. It’s really important. Do you understand?”

    “Are you going to get your revenge, Miss Walden?”

    “You bet your bottom dollar I am. Alfie, I never told you this, but I was pregnant with his baby.”

    “Where’s the baby then?”

    “Well, Alfie, he made me terminate the pregnancy.”

    “You mean he made you get an abortion?”

    She winced at the words. “Yes.”

    The rumors about Miss Walden were sort of true. Marty, the father, did sort of steal motherhood away from her. It just took a different form than what everybody else expected. Alfie couldn’t help but wonder why she would want to keep a baby that was created out of unfortunate circumstances. “Were you sad?”

    She nodded. “You know, Alfie. I’m still sad about it.”

    “Why? Isn’t he just another reminder of him?”

    “Look around, Alfie. He’s everywhere. He haunts my world. The baby would be comforting. While it would’ve reminded me of him, I also helped make that child.”

    That nonexistent child, Alfie thought.

    “It would’ve brought joy to my life. That baby would’ve been there for me when everyone else wasn’t. Don’t you see that going against him alone did nothing for me? It ruined my reputation and made his better somehow, someway. With Eunice, I can finally bring justice to the world.”

    This was the first Alfie had heard Miss Walden talk like this. Usually she was calm and collected about things, saying that it didn’t bother her when people whispered about her. Now she had taken a completely different path. She was jabbering on and on, jumping from one topic to the next. The whole thing left Alfie speechless. All he wanted was to go back to his empty house. He still hadn’t received the phone call that the baby had been born.

    Before he left Miss Walden’s, he scrawled Eunice’s phone number on a scrap sheet of paper. “Thank you, Alfie. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

    Grinning, he realized that this was how he would prove to the world that Miss Walden was no crazy. He would send Marty to jail, which would hopefully put Eunice to ease, and accomplish his original goal. It was a two-for-one deal. He enjoyed those because he didn’t have to use as much effort.

+++

Alfie really didn’t want to go to Marty’s Candy Emporium after what he had discovered from Eunice and Miss Walden. After Eunice’s speech about the seven deadly sins, he should’ve known better. Of course, he couldn’t curb the temptation. He needed his candy fix, and he needed it now. He told himself he would only spend five minutes in their, ten maximum. He made up his mind about what he wanted beforehand to cut the amount of time in the store. Putting his foot through the threshold was more difficult than he thought it was. He had to remind himself that nothing bad was going to happen to him as long as he pretended to not know anything. He had to play stupid, which wasn’t exactly difficult for him.

    “Alfie!” Marty cried, slightly cheerier than usual. “Welcome, welcome. I just got a new shipment of this special candy from Japan. It’s rare in the US.”

    “Is it illegal?” Alfie asked.

    Marty laughed. It was guttural sounding, like crunching chains. It made Alfie feel sick to his stomach. “Not at all. It’s just a fairly new brand. It’s very good. You’ll like it, Alfie.”

    “Okay. I’ll take some of that. I would also like some gummy bears in a small bag and ten candy canes, please.”

    “Are you going on some sort of diet, Alfie?”

    “No…”

    “Starving yourself?”

    “Nope.”

    “Trying to be healthier?”

    Alfie suddenly realized that he was wondering why he was cutting back on portion sizes. He nodded. “I’m trying to set a good example for the new baby.”

    “Ah, that’s right. Your aunt’s in the hospital, isn’t she? I heard from Mary Ann that she’s finally got the timing right.”

    Alfie nodded. “The baby should be here any second now. It’s probably being born as we speak.”

    “And you don’t know the gender?”

    “They want it to be a surprise. And by ‘they,’ I mean my aunt. Uncle Bobby doesn’t really have a preference.”

    “Well I’m sure I’ll hear something about it through the grapevine.”

    “You probably will.”

    “Will that be all today?”

    “Yes.”

    Alfie gave Marty the money in his pocket. He was turning to leave when Marty stopped him. “Alfie, I’d like to talk to you about something. It’s really important.”

    Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. Was he going to talk about Eunice? Of course he was. Alfie wasn’t sure if he was ready for this level of privacy between him and Marty. They weren’t, for lack of a better word, intimate. “Okay.”

    “As you know, I live all by myself.” Was he trying to make an excuse? “Once I die, Marty’s will go out of business. I don’t have any relatives left, which means I don’t have an heir to this dingy but magical place. Alfie, I know you love this place almost as much as I do, so I’ve decided to leave it all to you.”

    The sudden intake of information frazzled him. “What?”

    “That is, if you want it. If you want to get your butt out of Pinto as soon as you turn eighteen, then go for it. The option is there if you want it, though.”

    Alfie forgot about Marty’s dark side. He forgot about Eunice. He forgot about Miss Walden. All he thought of was how Marty’s Candy Emporium kept him glued to this place. It had been there for him, through thick and thin, and never judged him for the copious amounts of candy he consumed. Then again, it was just an establishment that Marty restocked, but it meant more to him than anything else in this town. Now it was his. It was hanging on a golden strand, waiting for him to reach out and grab it.

    Then he remembered everything; all of the events of the past and of the present. It was an honor because was going to leave him everything, including his legacy. He didn’t know if he wanted to be associated with it, especially after what Eunice and Miss Walden were going to do to him for revenge. They would expose him as a pervert, a criminal, and even worse. Knowing this, Alfie wasn’t sure if he even could accept it.

    “Marty, I need to think about this.”

    “That’s totally fine. Let me know. You’re already in my will,” Marty said. It warmed his heart. How could Marty be so kind and fatherly to Alfie but so cruel and animalistic to Miss Walden and Eunice?

    Walking out of the store, Alfie couldn’t help but feel bile rising in his throat and guilt seeping into his mind. He didn’t want to be involved in anything and he didn’t want to take sides. For the second time in his life, he wished that he had chosen to be with his parents.

+++

Eunice sniffed him. “You smell like baby.”

    Eunice had somewhat returned to her former self. Though he touched her, it wasn’t enough to completely change who she was. She was rattled, for sure, but still remained Eunice-like. Where the event was evident was where physical contact was concerned. She was shakier and more hesitant when it came to hugging him.

    “My aunt had her baby. She’s at home now.”

    “She’s a girl?” Eunice squealed excitedly, enthusiastically clapping her hands.

    Alfie nodded proudly. He was actually expecting a boy, but a girl evened out the gender gap in the household. “Her name’s Rose, but they’re calling her Rosie.”

    “Aw, Rosie,” Eunice cooed. “That is such an adorable name.”

    “She’s really cute,” Alfie said. “But she cries a lot.”

    “Of course she does. She’s a baby. That’s how they communicate, Alfie.”

    “I know.”

    “I should go,” Eunice said. “Miss Walden and I have some big plans for today.”

    “About that, Eunice…”

    “What, Alfie?”

    He was going to tell her about Marty’s will but figured this was something he needed to do all on his own. “Nothing, Eunice. Good luck.”

    “Thank you, Alfie. I’m afraid luck has nothing to do with this. The truth is coming out and Marty will get what he deserves after all of these years.”

Alfie went back inside, feeling like a thousand pascals of pressure were pressing down against him. He wasn’t exactly in the middle of anything, but he felt like he was. He felt like both sides wanted him on their side. It was a game of tug of war and he was the rope. He felt as if he was a bystander watching a crime unfold before him, but if he stopped it, something bad would happen to him. He left it up to fate, the only thing he really could do.

Rosie had been home for a week now. She kept her parents awake all night, mainly Aunt Lorraine. Alfie was getting accustomed to sleeping through the night, a luxury he had been deprived of for the last month or so. She was wailing. Aunt Lorraine rocked her in her arms, singing lullabies to get her to be quiet. Alfie could see bags beginning to form underneath her eyes. She was desperate for sleep. Uncle Bobby returned to work.

    “I can hold her if you want,” Alfie offered.

    Aunt Lorraine looked up at him. “Thank you so much, Alfie.”

    She stood up and motioned for him to sit down in the chair. Alfie did. Aunt Lorraine set her in his arms. He cradled her gently. She nestled into the crook of his arm before making gurgling sounds.

    Aunt Lorraine looked amazed. “She stopped crying! Hallelujah. Thank the heavens.” Alfie was afraid she’d break out in hymns or something.

    “Go to sleep, Aunt Lorraine.”   

She nodded gratefully, murmured a brief “thank you,” and scurried out of the room.

    Alfie looked down at his new cousin. He smiled toothily, but it vanished quickly because he didn’t want to frighten her. “Hi, Rosie. I’m Alfie. I’m your big cousin.”

    Alfie liked to think that she smiled at him, but it was only a quirk of the lips. “I have a problem,” he confessed. “Do you want to help solve it?”

Alfie waited only a moment for response. He knew he wouldn’t receive one. He told her his problem anyways. It wasn’t as if she could actually understand much less help his predicament. He supposed it was a positive element that things couldn’t be jogged into her memory bank. She needn’t be corrupted this early in her life.

    He was midway into the story when the door opened. Uncle Bobby dragged himself through the house, kicking off his work shoes. Alfie heard him breathe loudly as he opened the fridge, digging for something to eat. After putting a substantial amount of sliced cheese onto a plate, he grabbed a package of ritz crackers, filled a glass of water from the tap, and sat his butt down in the chair next to Alfie’s. After swallowing a couple of mini sandwiches, he asked how Rosie was.

    “I haven’t had her for very long. She’s been good.”

    “Good, good,” he mumbled.

    “How was work?”

    He shrugged, inhaling another slice of cheese and six crackers. “It was slow.”

    “So like every other day?”

    He nodded. “I think I’m going to quit and find work somewhere else. Don’t tell your aunt.”

    “I thought she wanted you to work somewhere else.”

    “The factory. The factory life isn’t for me, Alfie. It’s just too boring. I think we’re going to have to move to somewhere bigger.”

    “Bigger means more competition.”

    “But it also means more money, Alfie. We have Rosie now. Things are not going to be cheap, especially since she’s a girl. She’s going to want to buy all sorts of frilly dresses and dolls.”

    Moving. “Will I be going with you?”

    Uncle Bobby paused, proceeded to snack some more, and then answered his question. “When we move?”

    Alfie nodded.

    He scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess you would.”

    Alfie was a nuisance to them. Uncle Bobby’s reaction just confirmed it. He would call his parents tonight to make a stop in Pennsylvania to pick him up.

    “Actually,” he said, “I think I’m going to join my parents on their trip.”

    Uncle Bobby tried to hide his excitement, but he failed miserably. It only made Alfie feel worse and more of a burden. “Oh?”

    “Yeah. I think it’ll be good for me.”

    “Do you want me to give them a call for you?”

    Alfie shook his head. “I’ll call them tonight. They’re in a different timezone, remember?”

    “Right, right. Well, we’ll miss you, bud.”

    Sure you will. Alfie nodded. “Me too.”

    Uncle Bobby inhaled the rest of his food. “I’ll take Rosie now.”

    Alfie handed her over to him. He went up to his room, wondering what to pack for the trip and what to move into storage at his parent’s house. His parents resided in a larger city, in a larger house, because they had larger numbers in their bank account. He counted on leaving in a week, which meant he had his work cut out for him. His parents would take a couple of days to get to the United States, spend a couple coddling Rosie, and then they would be on their way to one of one hundred and ninety-six countries in the world. He hoped they would go to Belgium or France, maybe even Spain. He didn’t mind Spanish food. He spoke a little Spanish. He was required to take two Spanish classes in school. He knew the basics. “where is the bathroom?” and “can I have dessert?” would be some of his most used phrases. If he needed anything else, he would pray that Google Translate was accurate.