Thursday 26 March 2020

I wonder if I still fit in the box.

If there's ever an emergency, he said, holding my face in his hands, something he only ever did when it was very important for me to pay close attention and Listen Hard, I want you to meet me at the wheel. If I'm not there yet I will be as soon I can but you need to stay there and wait for me, okay?

I nod. I don't know what an emergency is, here in amusements. Is that like when I need to pee in the middle of the night and so we have to get dressed and he must walk me to the washroom facilities? He never complained about that, not even once.

Do you understand? 

What's an emergency here? 

What are emergencies at home? 

House fires. Blizzards. Maybe tornadoes. 

Right. Or civil unrest. 

Chesterfields?

No, civil means people and unrest means riots. 

People-riots. 

Right, people-riots. If that happens and you see people hurting each other, crawl under the gear box at the wheel and hide. 

But how will you know I'm there if there's a chesterfield going on?

Civil unrest, and I will look in the box. 

Okay. 

Okay. I burst into tears.

Don't be scared, Bridget. We'll be fine. 

How? 

We can steal what we need and as long as we're together everything is okay.

***

Where'd you go just now? Lochlan is staring at me from his spot across from me in the big chairs by the window. I check my expression, gone slack from a daydream.

The wheel. 

Which one, Peanut? 

The first one. It's in my head. 

Did you go for safety? He asks quietly. He knows me so well. Crazy and all.

Yes.