Authors: Emma Donoghue
Ma doesn’t answer.
“Where is he, in the wardrobe?”
That’s me, the
he
.
“Is he in the rug? Are you crazy, wrapping a sick kid up like that?”
“You didn’t come back,” Ma says and her voice is really weird. “He got worse in the night and this morning he wouldn’t wake up.”
Nothing. Then Old Nick makes a funny sound. “Are you sure?”
“Am I sure?” Ma shrieks it, but I don’t move, I don’t move, I’m all stiff no hearing no seeing no nothing.
“Ah, no.” I hear his breath all long. “That’s just terrible. You poor girl, you—”
Nobody says anything for a minute.
“Guess it must have been something really serious,” says Old Nick, “the pills wouldn’t have worked anyway.”
“You killed him.” Ma’s howling.
“Come on now, calm down.”
“How can I calm down when Jack’s—” She’s breathing strange, her words come out like gulping. She’s pretending so really I nearly believe it.
“Let me.” His voice is very near, I go tight and stiff stiff stiff.
“Don’t touch him.”
“OK, OK.” Then Old Nick says, “You can’t keep him here.”
“My baby!”
“I know, it’s a terrible thing. But I’ve got to take him away now.”
“No.”
“How long’s it been?” he asks. “This morning, you said? Maybe in the night? He must be starting to—it’s not healthy, keeping him here. I better take him and,
and find a place.”
“Not in the backyard.” Ma’s talking is nearly a growl.
“OK.”
“If you put him in the backyard—You never should have done that, it’s too close. If you bury him there I’ll hear him crying.”
“I said OK.”
“You have to drive him a long way away, all right?”
“All right. Let me—”
“Not yet.” She’s crying and crying. “You mustn’t disturb him.”
“I’ll keep him all wrapped up.”
“Don’t you dare lay a finger—”
“All right.”
“Swear you won’t even look at him with your filthy eyes.”
“OK.”
“Swear.”
“I swear, OK?”
I’m dead dead dead.
“I’ll know,” says Ma, “I’ll know if you put him in the backyard, and I’ll scream every time that door opens, I’ll tear the place apart, I swear
I’ll never be quiet again. You’ll have to kill me too to shut me up, I just don’t care anymore.”
Why is she telling him to kill her?
“Take it easy.” Old Nick sounds like he’s talking to a dog. “I’m going to pick him up now and carry him to the truck, OK?”
“Gently. Find somewhere nice,” says Ma, she’s crying so much I can hardly hear what she’s saying. “Somewhere with trees or something.”
“Sure. Time to go now.”
I’m grabbed through Rug, I’m squeezed, it’s Ma, she says, “Jack, Jack, Jack.”
Then I’m lifted. I think it’s her and then I know it’s him. Don’t move don’t move don’t move JackerJack stay stiff stiff stiff. I’m squished in Rug, I
can’t breathe right, but dead don’t breathe anyway.
Don’t let him unwrap me.
I wish I had Smooth Knife.
The
beep beep
again, then the
click,
that means Door is open. The ogre’s got me, fee fie foe fum. Hot on my legs, oh no, Penis let some pee out. And also a bit of poo
squirted out my bum, Ma never said this would happen. Stinky.
Sorry, Rug.
A grunt near my ear, Old Nick’s got me tight. I’m so scared I can’t be brave, stop stop stop but I
can’t make a sound or he’ll guess the trick and he’ll eat me headfirst, he’ll rip off my legs . . .
I count my teeth but I keep losing count, nineteen, twenty-one, twenty-two. I am Prince Robot Super JackerJack Mr. Five, I don’t move.
Are you there, Tooth? I can’t feel you but
you must be in my sock, at the side. You’re a bit of Ma, a little bit of Ma’s dead spit riding along with me.
I can’t feel my arms.
The air’s different. Still the dustiness of Rug but when I lift my nose a tiny bit I get this air that’s . . .
Outside.
Could I be?
Not moving. Old Nick’s just standing. Why is he standing still in the backyard? What’s he going to—?
Moving again. I stay stiff stiff stiff.
Owwww,
down onto something hard. I don’t think I made a sound, I didn’t hear one. I think I bit my mouth, it’s got that taste that’s blood.
There’s another beep but a different. A rattling like all metals. Up again, then crash down, on my face, ow ow ow.
Bang.
Then everything starts to shake and throb and roar under my
front, it’s an earthquake . . .
No, it’s the truck, it must be. It’s not a bit like a raspberry, it’s a million times more.
Ma!
I’m shouting in my head.
Dead, Truck,
that’s two of
the nine. I’m in the back of the brown pickup truck just like in the story.
I’m not in Room. Am I still me?
Moving now. I’m zooming along in the truck for real for really real.
Oh, I have to
Wriggle Out,
I was forgetting. I start to do like a snake, but Rug’s got tighter I don’t know how, I’m stuck I’m stuck.
Ma Ma Ma . . .
I
can’t get out like we practiced even though we practiced and practiced, it’s all gone wrong,
sorry.
Old Nick’s going to take me to a place and bury me and
the worms
crawl in the worms crawl out . . .
I’m crying again, my nose is running, my arms are knotted under my chest, I’m fighting Rug because she’s not my friend anymore, I’m
kicking like Karate but she’s got me, she’s the shroud for the corpses to fall in the sea . . .
Sound’s quieter. Not moving. The truck’s stopped.
It’s a stop, it’s a stop sign stop, that means I’m meant to be doing
Jump
that’s five on the list but I didn’t do three yet, if I can’t wriggle out how
can I jump? I can’t get to four five six seven eight or nine, I’m stuck on three, he’s going to bury me with the worms . . .
Moving again,
vrum vrum.
I get one hand up over my face that’s all snotty, my hand scrapes out the top and I drag my other arm up. My fingers grab the new air, something cold, something metal, a thing else
that’s not metal with bumps on it. I grab and pull pull pull and kick and my knee, ow ow ow. No good, no use.
Find the corner,
is that Ma talking in my head like she said or am I just
remembering? I feel all the way around Rug and there’s no corner on her, then I find it and pull, it comes loose just a bit I think. I roll on my back but that’s even tighter and I
can’t find the corner anymore.
Stopped, the truck’s stopped again, I’m not out already, I was meant to jump at the first. I pull Rug down until she’s going to break my elbow and I can see a huge dazzling,
then it’s gone because the truck’s moving again
vrummmmm.
I think that was Outside I saw, Outside is real and so bright but I can’t—
Ma’s not here, no time to cry, I’m Prince JackerJack, I have to be JackerJack or the worms crawl in. I’m on my front again, I bend my knees and stick my butt up, I’m
going to burst right through Rug and she’s looser now, she’s coming off my face—
I can breathe all the lovely black air. I’m sitting up and unwrapping Rug like I’m a smushed kind of banana. My ponytail’s come out, there’s all hair in my eyes.
I’m finding my legs one and two, I get my whole self out, I did it, I did it, I wish Dora could see me, she’d sing the “We Did It” song.
Another light whizzing by over. Things sliding in the sky that I think they’re trees. And houses and lights on giant poles and some cars everything zooming. It’s like a cartoon
I’m inside but messier. I’m holding on to the edge of the truck, it’s all hard and cold. The sky is the most enormous, over there there’s a pink orange bit but the rest is
gray. When I look down, the street is black and a long long way. I know to jump good but not when everything’s roaring and bumping and the lights all blurry and the air so strange smells like
apple or something. My eyes aren’t working right, I’m too scared to be scave.
The truck’s stopped again. I can’t jump, I just can’t move. I manage to stand up and I look over but—
I’m slipping and crashing across the truck, my head hits on something sore, I shout by accident
arghhhhhh
—
Stopped again.
A metal sound. Old Nick’s face. He’s out of the truck with the maddest face I ever saw and—
Jump.
The ground breaks my feet smash my knee hits me in the face but I’m running running running, where’s
Somebody,
Ma said to scream to a somebody or a car or a lighted house, I
see a car but dark inside and anyway nothing comes out of my mouth that’s full of my hair but I keep running
GingerJack be nimble be quick.
Ma’s not here but she promised
she’s in my head going
run run run.
A roaring behind me that’s him, it’s Old Nick coming to tear me in half
fee fie foe fum,
I have to find
Somebody
to shout
help help
but there isn’t a somebody, there’s no somebody, I’m going to have to keep running forever but my breath is used up and I can’t see and—
A bear.
A wolf?
A dog, is a dog a somebody?
Somebody coming behind the dog but it’s a very small person, a baby walking, it’s pushing something that has wheels with a smaller baby inside. I can’t remember what to shout,
I’m on mute, I just keep running at them. The baby laughs, it has nearly no hair. The tiny one in the push-thing isn’t a real one, I think, it’s a doll. The dog is small but a
real one, it’s doing a poo on the ground, I never saw TV dogs do that. A person comes up behind the baby and picks up the poo in a bag like it’s a treasure, I think it’s a he, the
somebody with short hair like Old Nick but curlier and he’s browner than the baby. I go, “Help,” but it doesn’t come out very loud. I’m running till I’m nearly
at them and the dog barks and jumps up and
eats me
—
I open my mouth for the widest scream but no sound comes out.
“Raja!”
Red on my finger all spots.
“Raja, down.” The man person’s got the dog by the neck.
My blood’s falling out of my hand.
Then
bam
grabbed from behind, it’s Old Nick, his giant hands on my ribs. I messed up, he catched me
, sorry sorry sorry Ma.
He’s lifting me up. I scream then, I scream
no words even. He’s got me under his arm, he’s carrying me back to the truck, Ma said I could hit, I could kill him, I hit and hit but I can’t reach, it’s only me I’m
hitting—
“Excuse me,” calls the person holding the poo bag. “Hey, mister?” His voice isn’t deep, it’s softer.
Old Nick turns us around. I’m forgetting to scream.
“I’m so sorry, is your little girl OK?”
What little girl?
Old Nick clears his throat, he’s still carrying me to the truck but walking backwards. “Fine.”
“Raja’s usually really gentle, but she came at him out of nowhere . . .”
“Just a tantrum,” says Old Nick.
“Hey. Wait up, I think her hand’s bleeding.”
I look at my eaten finger, the blood’s making drops.
Then he has picked the baby person up now, he’s holding it on his arm and the poo bag in the other hand and he’s looking really confused.
Old Nick stands me down, he’s got his fingers on my shoulders so they’re burning. “It’s under control.”
“And her knee too, that looks bad. Raja didn’t do that. Has she had a fall?” asks the man.
“I’m not a her,” I say but only inside my throat.
“Why don’t you mind your own business and I’ll mind mine?” Old Nick’s nearly growling.
Ma, Ma, I need you for talking.
She’s not in my head anymore, she’s not anywhere. She wrote the note, I was forgetting, I put my not eaten hand in my underwear and I
can’t find the note but then I do, it’s all peed. I can’t talk but I wave it at the somebody man.
Old Nick rips it out of my hand and makes it disappear.
“OK, I don’t—I don’t like this,” says the man. He’s got a little phone in his hand, where did it come from? He’s saying, “Yes, police,
please.”
It’s happening just like Ma said, we’re at eight that’s
Police
already and I haven’t even showed the
Note
or said about Room, I’m doing it backwards.
I’m meant to talk to the somebody just like they’re human. I start to say, “I’ve been kidnapped,” but it only comes out whispery because Old Nick’s picked me up
again, he’s heading for the truck, he’s running, I’m all shaking to pieces, I can’t find to hit, he’s going to—
“I’ve got your plates, mister!”
That’s the man person screaming, is he shouting at me? What plates?
“K nine three—” He’s shouting numbers, why is he shouting numbers?
Suddenly
arghhhhhh
the street bangs me in the tummy hands face, Old Nick’s running away but without me. He dropped me. He’s farther off every second. Those must be magic
numbers to make him drop me.
I try to get up but I can’t remember how.
A noise like a monster, the truck’s
vrummmming
and coming at me
rrrrrrrrrrr,
it’s going to crush me down to smithereens on the pavement, I don’t know how where
what—the baby crying, I never heard a real baby cry before—
The truck’s gone. It just drove past, around the corner without stopping. I hear it for a bit, then I don’t hear it anymore.
The higher bit, the sidewalk, Ma said to get on the sidewalk. I have to crawl but with my bad knee not putting down. The sidewalk’s all in big squares, scrapy.
A terrible smell. The dog’s nose is right beside me, it’s come back to chew me up, I scream.
“Raja.” The man pulls the dog away. The man’s squatting down, he’s got the baby on one of his knees, it’s wriggling. He doesn’t have the poo bag anymore.
Looks like a TV person but nearer and wider and with smells, a bit like Dish Soap and mint and curry all together. His hand that’s not holding the dog tries to get on me but I roll away just
in time. “It’s OK, sweetie. It’s OK.”
Who’s sweetie? His eyes are looking at my eyes, it’s me that’s the sweetie. I can’t look, it’s too weird having him seeing me and talking at me.
“What’s your name?”
TV people never ask things except Dora and she knows my name already.