Moose and Goose

Chapter Eighty

A string of drool hangs from his tongue and swings toward her floor, but before it makes contact, she shuts her eyes. She drowns out her mother and Stevie — even her heart stops beating, as far as she's concerned.

She wanders through her paradise of a wild imagination, searching for the vivid memory of her father for support. Yet, all she sees behind her closed lids are brown, wilted pasture and trees hanging to the side with brown, mushy apples surrounding them.

"Judy," her mother pulls her out of her head, and she blinks three times. She notices that the day drifted away with her as she scans her room, and the moonlight seeping through her window casts a shadow as if it's for her. "Hey, Rembrandt says you've been sitting here since I left with Stevie. Are you okay?"

She talks in a soft voice meant to soothe her, but it does the opposite. In her attempt to remain calm for her daughter, she reminds her of that gut-wrenching feeling she buried deep: hearing someone you're close to has passed.

"Where's Stevie," Judith's voice is uneasy, and she wipes her chin with the back of her hand, ridding it of drool. Sheryl sits to her left, and Judy's eyes widen, her mind preparing her for the worst. When she wraps her arm around her, Judith shakes it off and yells, "Stop! Where's Stevie?"

"He's fine," Sheryl begins to say, but she stops when Judith flares her nostrils. She takes a deep breath, then confesses, "He's in the hospital. I told the doctor what I saw, and he'll be sent to the children's ward in Red Cave. They say he'll get the help he needs."

Is she crazy?

"Why would you do that," she all but shouts in her mother's face. Her heart jumps into her throat at the idea of him succumbing to the many terrors she was forced to endure.

"Judy, I'm getting tired," Sheryl admits with a hollow laugh that sends chills down Judith's spine. "I've done all I know to do with all of you. Wayne was rebellious, so Walter and I put him around military folk. Stacey – nothing I could do would help her make mature decisions. Then I lost Michael, and now I have you three to worry about."

Here she goes bringing Michael into this. What could he possibly have to do with her throwing her child to the fucking wolves?

"If you really cared about him, you wouldn't send him there. He won't survive by himself. I mean, I barely did." Sheryl tilts her head and stares at her with her eyes narrowed.

"Why're you talking about that place like it was a prison?" Judith purses her lips at her mother's calm demeanor. On the inside, she's panicking but refuses to allow her mother to see it.

"I need to see Stevie." Sheryl shakes her head in response, but Judy persists, "Please, I need to talk to him and let him know everything will be okay."

"He knows that by now, Judy." Sheryl stands up, and her daughter scoffs.

"He won't know anything if those doctors at the hospital are drugging him every hour." Her mother shakes her head again and walks toward the door. "Mom, please, he needs me."

"Stop trying to out-parent me," Sheryl yells as she whips around to her. Her face is scrunched as she lashes out at her daughter and a vein appears on her neck. "Every sickness, every bruise, I was there! But when things are good, you act like your life is horrible, and the kids need protecting from me!"

"Mom, I didn't say that," she calmly states, her heart pounding a mile a minute and her stomach twisting.

"Now you're gaslighting me. Judy, I know you better than you know yourself." She grimaces each time her mother thrashes her hands, expecting her to throw something like she used to. Vera stands at the door and watches them. "I know you love the thrill that comes with David because without him hitting you, you realize your life is boring."

"You don't mean that," Judith tries to convince her as tears prick her eyes and she notices Vera with her mouth partially open from shock.

"Don't tell me what I don't mean," she screams, and Judith flinches her knees to her chest. Her feet rest on the edge of the bed, and she stares at them to avoid looking at her mother. Sheryl huffs before turning to her youngest child and almost instantly a smile appears on her face. "What're you doing up? You'll never get better if you don't sleep when I tell you to."

"I wanted to sleep in here with Judy." They simultaneously glance at her, watching her trembling against the comfort of her legs. With her hands around her knees, she rests her quivering lip against the top.

"She needs to sleep too. Besides, you snore and kick, so you're better off sleeping in my room." Vera looks at her sister once more, and her mother sits her hands on her shoulders and says, "Get to bed, and I may just take you to Dairy Queen tomorrow."

Judy's heart skips a beat when she hears Dairy Queen, remembering her father's promise to get her dying with him. A tear rolls across her nose bridge right when she turns her head to rest on the flat surfaces.

Vera hears her sniffle and begins to utter another word, but Sheryl nudges her into the hall. When the door shuts behind them, Judith closes her eyes tight and bites her lips to suppress her cry. The sound exits her nose as a whimper, and she lifts her shaking hands to the front of her hair, yanking it forward.

When she draws back, she sees long spiral-like strands between her fingers, and she darts her cold eyes onto the bedroom door.

Not long after, Vera turns the knob and pushes her door open. She stares at Judy sleeping under her blankets, then creeps toward her with a bright red substance sliding down her left forearm from the bend of her elbow.

"Judy," she whispers, shaking her right shoulder with her other hand. Her sister lets out a tired groan. "Get up. I need to go to the hospital. I'm bleeding."

"Vera, we went over this. You'll bleed every month. Now go to bed." Judith twists in bed to turn her back to the door, and Vera sighs. Vera shakes her head at her while looking upward in annoyance.

"Not that kind of bleeding." Vera strikes Judy's exposed arm with her palm, and the sound resembles a whip hitting flesh. Judith looks at her over her shoulder, and her dark eyes trail down her sister's arm before widening on the thick crimson fluid.

"Jesus Christ, Vera!" Judith pushes herself into the seated position and yanks her arm in her hands, scanning for an open wound under the moonlight. "Where's the – wait a minute."

"I didn't really cut myself," she confesses with a prideful grin when Judith looks at her. "In school, they were teaching us what to do if someone's on fire, they're unconscious or, in this case, bleeding."

"You woke me up to play games? Vera, what's wrong with you?" The happy gleam in her eyes perishes at her sister's disapproval and harsh tone. "None of this is funny."

"I wasn't laughing." She yanks her arm to her side, and they lift their eyes to the ceiling when they hear sirens in the distance. "Oh, yeah, I called the police."

"What?" Judith stands out of her bed and sprints to the window. When Vera repeats herself, she says, "I heard you! God, I can't believe you right now."

"What? You can't drive me to the hospital. You don't even have a license," she reminds her, her voice quivering. Judy stares through the crack between her curtains and spots an emergency van cruising into the cul-de-sac.

"I don't need to drive you because there's nothing's wrong with you that a doctor can fix with a bandaid." She turns away from the window and runs her fingers through her afro. "Now I gotta think of a way to convince them it was a prank call."

"Stevie needs me," Vera mumbles, tears finally falling from her lashes. When Judy looks at her over the top of where her glasses would be, Vera bows her head.

"You did this to see Stevie?" She nods and watches Judith take slow steps closer, the sirens rapidly approaching.

She looms over her in silent thought, and Vera sniffles while staring up at her with sadness in her irises. Judith raises her right hand and slams her palm across the left side of Vera's face, knocking her to the floor.