The Practicalities of Freezing Time: Chapter Fourteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The phone rang out in Naledi’s house.  Naledi looked up from her book.  Her mum seemed to be out again, possibly with Mr. Plant.  No, no, not possibly, probably.  He was round more and more now, holding hands, even.  Naledi’s mum had never said a word about it and Naledi hadn’t said a thing either.  Somehow, it never seemed the right time.

     The phone kept on ringing.  Naledi put her book down and sighed.  The past few nights had been just her alone with whatever food she could find in the house.  Eventually, she’d hear the sound of the front door opening and, more often than not, would find Mr. Plant there in the morning, smiling and pretending for all the world like nothing out of the ordinary was happening.  Then again, Naledi reasoned, this was the ‘ordinary’ now, so why should he act like there was something amiss?

     The phone didn’t give up ringing.  As Naledi walked towards it, she found her mind flashing back to the day of the burning bus drawing once again.  That feeling, just before she put her hand on the door and burst in on her mum and dad pretending they hadn’t just argued.  That feeling of wishing she hadn’t left her room and caught them being less than so thoroughly in love.  That feeling of wishing everything could just stop.  That feeling of wishing she could freeze time, for just one moment, like Dad.

     Ring. Ring. Ring.

     Naledi picked up the phone: “Hello?”

     “Oh, hello, Naledi. Is your mother there?” It was Dr. Laflamme. She had been the family doctor since before Naledi was born now and was one of the few people who could apparently tell the difference between Naledi and Mum over the phone.

     “No, sorry,” Naledi rubbed one of her eyes and remembered how much she had been wanting to pee for an hour or so now. “Can I take a message?”

     “Mmmm.” Dr. Laflamme considered this.

     “She’ll probably be back later if you want me to get her to call you back?” Naledi hopped slightly from foot to foot.

     “No, no, it’s alright,” said Dr. Laflamme, a bit more decisively now. “I’ve got a ridiculous day, she wouldn’t catch me. Look. Just tell your mother that her meds are in again, same as always.”

     “Okay,” Naledi made a mental note to pass this on later.

     “Same as they have been for the past four years, but as ever, tell her to call me if there’s a problem, okay?”

     “Right.”

     “Right, better go. See you not-too-soon I hope, Naledi!” Dr. Laflamme laughed at her little joke, which was a relief, as Naledi didn’t. “Bye.”

     “Bye,” repeated Naledi and hung up the phone. Silently, she made her way to the toilet and sat down, peeing, trying to work out why her mum had apparently not just been taking medication to help her cope since her husband died, but had been taking medication to help her cope for just over three years before this.  To cope with what?