02-13-2008, 09:58 PM
“I don’t talk to myself.” She whispered.
“Of course not dearie.” Her mirror said.
“Well I should hope not.” Said her bookshelf.
“Well wouldn’t that be the cat’s pajamas!” Her lamp exclaimed laughingly.
The girl giggled tumbling on her bed as the mirror and bookshelf sighed tiredly. “Mama says that I can’t talk to you anymore. She says that papa will be home today, and that he’ll think I’m crazy for talking to you. And that we are to be a perfect family for him.”
“I don’t understand.” Her lamp’s light faltered. “Your not crazy. Are you? You would told us. Wouldn’t you’ve? Besides perfect is boring”
“Nonsense. The point is they can’t see us, or hear us, so they don’t understand. Well don’t mind them at all dearie. Your pure hearted spirit is nothing to be ashamed of. ” The mirror rattled slightly with indignation. If your father truly loves you then he’ll truly love you.
“Now don’t push her into doing something stupid, Clarry. If she calls too much attention to herself, or us, it’ll be trouble. Fran don’t listen to that old fuddy duddy, you listen to your ma for now. Later, she’ll let her guard down and then everything will be the same. Just keep your chin up.”
The light beamed brightly in the room. “Now who’s being bossy Att?! Leave Clarry, alone! She’s right. Fran, ma is just being unreasonable. And besides Att, how long do you think it’ll take before that big hen lets Fran be normal again! You know if Fran isn’t talking to us, then we shouldn’t talk to each other and well…that’s just not fun. I won’t be quiet!”
“What was that noise?!” Everybody and thing jumped when Mama’s voice rang out. Shushes from all around, the lamp flickered out. “You’d best not be talking to yourself. I told you to stop- OH! Your father’s horse is here! He’s here!” The banging of cupboards and the clinking of cups, Mama was setting up for a drink.
“Don’t worry.” Fran sat up in bed. “Mama still works early morning so we can talk then. It just means I can’t read you bedtime stories for awhile.” The light flickered in protest. “Aww Pree, don’t you worry bout nuthin.” The lamp giggled and then popped into light.
“Dearie,” piped up the mirror. “Don’t forget to add a bit more face paint to your eye. It’s not quite healed from the other day.”
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