I’m rolled up in the itchy dark.
“Not too tight?”
I try if I can get my arms up above my head and back, scraping a bit.
“OK?”
“OK,” I say.
Then we just wait. Something comes in the top of Rug and rubs my hair, it’s her hand, I know without seeing even. I can hear my breathing that’s noisy. I think about the Count in the bag with the worms crawling in. The fall down down down crash into the sea. Can worms swim?
Dead, Truck, Run, Somebody—no, Wriggle Out, then Jump, Run, Somebody, Note, Blowtorch. I forgot Police before Blowtorch, it’s too complicated, I’m going to mess it all up and Old Nick will bury me for real and Ma will be waiting always.
After a long while I whisper, “Is he coming or no?”
“I don’t know,” says Ma. “How could he not? If he’s the least bit human . . .”
I thought humans were or weren’t, I didn’t know someone could be a bit human. Then what are his other bits?
I wait and wait. I can’t feel my arms. Rug’s lying against my nose, I want to scratch. I try and try and I reach it. “Ma?” “Right here.”
“Me too.”
Beep beep.
I jump, I’m supposed to be dead but I can’t help it, I want to get out of Rug right now but I’m stuck and I can’t even try or he’ll see — Something pressing on me, that must be Ma’s hand. She needs me to be Super Prince JackerJack, so I stay extra still. No more moving, I’m Corpse, I’m the Count, no, I’m his friend even deader, I’m all stiff like a broken robot with a power cut.
“Here you go.” That’s Old Nick’s voice. He sounds like always. He doesn’t even know what’s happened about me dying. “Antibiotics, only just past the sell-by. For a kid you break them in half, the guy said.”
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 . . .