Little Window
You were supposed to be getting another Shabcast – with another great guest – this week, but life had other plans. So, having staked everything on that, I am left without an essay to post. So you’ll have to make do with the third chapter of one of the novels I’m currently occasionally writing. Here are chapters one and two. My Patreon sponsors saw an earlier draft of this chapter ages ago (under a different title). And if that doesn’t make you salivate with an irresistible desire to give me money, I don’t know what will.
There were times when Iza envied Ria. Ria didn’t have spiders in her hair, or webs plastered across her face. She didn’t have dust falling into her eyes. She wasn’t losing the skin on her elbows and palms. Her fingernails weren’t splintering as they dug into brickwork. She didn’t have to hold on for dear life. She wasn’t alive. Iza felt guilty thinking this, but thought it all the same.
“This is amazing,” said Ria. For once, she didn’t sound sarcastic or cynical.
There was no room for Ria in the dark behind the walls. But she was there. She had followed Iza into the vertical passageway. Iza could hear Ria’s voice. It was as if she was behind her. But behind Iza there were just cold bricks, bare but for the filth of time and darkness. Iza had her back pressed against them. There was nowhere for Ria to be. Even so, Ria’s voice came from behind her. This was an old trick, of course. Sometimes, in the old days, Ria had spoken to Iza from inside bathroom cabinets, or toilet cisterns, or shopping bags.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” asked Ria.
She spoke aloud. There was, of course, no need for her to keep her voice down.
“I only found out about it after the last time you… left,” whispered Iza. She felt Ria scrutinising her. She felt guilty, despite the fact that she was telling the truth.
“I didn’t leave,” said Ria, “You sent me away. Remember?”
“If I did, I didn’t mean it,” hissed Iza.
She almost told Ria how many times she’d wished for her. Again, she wanted to ask Ria where she’d been, and why she’d stayed away for so long. But this didn’t seem like the time and place.
“We’re here,” whispered Iza.
They’d reached the top.
The cavity ran down the entire height of the house on the right side. It was only just big enough for Iza to squeeze into. Every time she did it, it was a tighter fit. She supposed that was good. She didn’t want to be small forever. But it meant that one day she’d be too big to get in. Too big to make any more secret visits to the top floor of the house. If when that happened… would that mean she’d never see her mother again?
Iza, with Ria somewhere near her, stared into Mary Park’s top floor apartment.…