Room: A Novel

“Pretty much,” says Paul.

In the parking he puts out his hand beside him like I’m meant to hold it. Then he puts it down again.

Something falls on my face and I shout.

“Just a speck of rain,” says Paul.

I stare up at the sky, it’s gray. “Is it going to fall on us?”

“It’s fine, Jack.”

I want to be back in Room Number Seven with Ma even if she’s Gone.

“Here we are. .”

It’s a green van, Deana’s in the seat with the steering wheel. She waves her fingers at me through the window. I see a smaller face in the middle. The van doesn’t open out, it slides a piece of it and I climb in.

“At last,” says Deana. “Bronwyn, hon, can you say hi to your cousin, Jack?”

It’s a girl nearly the same big as me, she’s got all braids like Deana but sparkly beads on the ends and an elephant that’s furry and cereals in a tub with a lid that’s shape of a frog. “Hi Jack,” she says very squeaky.

There’s a booster for me beside Bronwyn. Paul shows me to click the buckle. The third time I do it all myself, Deana claps and Bronwyn too. Then Paul slides the van shut with a loud clunk. I jump, I want Ma, I think I might be going to cry, but I don’t.

Bronwyn keeps going “Hi Jack, Hi Jack.” She doesn’t talk right yet, she says “Dada sing,” and “Pretty doggy,” and “Momma more pretzl pees,” pees is what she says for please. Dada means Paul and Momma means Deana but they’re the names only Bronwyn gets to say, like nobody calls Ma Ma but me.

I’m being scave but a bit more brave than scared because this isn’t as bad as pretending I’m dead in Rug. Anytime a car comes at us I say in my head that it has to stay on its own side or Officer Oh will put it in jail with the brown truck. Pictures in the window are like in TV but blurrier, I see cars that are parked, a cement mixer, a motorbike and a car trailer with one two three four five cars on it, that’s my best number. In a front yard a kid pushing a wheelbarrow with a littler kid in it, that’s funny. There’s a dog crossing a road with a human on a rope, I think it’s actually tied, not like the daycare that were just holding on. Traffic lights changing to green and a woman with crutches hopping and a huge bird on a trash, Deana says that’s just a gull, they eat anything and everything.

“They’re omnivores,” I tell her.

“My, you know some big words.”

We turn where there’s trees. I say, “Is this the Clinic again?”

“No, no, we just have to make a pit stop at the mall to pick up a present for a birthday party Bronwyn’s going to this afternoon.” The mall means stores like Old Nick buys our groceries, but not anymore.

It’s just Paul going in the mall, but he says he doesn’t know what to choose, so Deana’s going in instead, but then Bronwyn starts chanting, “Me with Momma, me with Momma.” So it’s going to be Deana pulling Bronwyn in the red wagon and Paul and me will wait in the van.

I’m staring at the red wagon. “Can I try?”

“Later, at the museum,” Deana tells me.

“Listen, I’m desperate for the bathroom anyway,” says Paul, “it might be faster if we all run in.”

“I don’t know. .”

“It shouldn’t be too hectic on a weekday.”

Deana looks at me, not smiling. “Jack, would you like to come in the mall in the wagon, just for a couple of minutes?” “Oh yeah.”

I ride at the back making sure Bronwyn doesn’t fall out because I’m the big cousin, “like John the Baptist,” I tell Bronwyn but she’s not listening. When we get up to the doors they make a pop sound and crack open by their own, I nearly fall out of the wagon but Paul says it’s all just tiny computers sending each other messages, don’t worry about it.

It’s all extra bright and ginormous, I didn’t know inside could be as big as Outside, there’s trees even. I hear music but I can’t see the players with the instruments. The most amazing thing, a bag of Dora, I get down to touch her face, she’s smiling and dancing at me. “Dora,” I whisper to her.

“Oh, yeah,” says Paul, “Bronwyn used to be all about her too but now it’s Hannah Montana.”

“Hannah Montana,” Bronwyn sings, “Hannah Montana.”

The Dora bag has straps, it’s like Backpack but with Dora on it instead of Backpack’s face. It has a handle too, when I try it pulls up, I think I broke it, but then it rolls, it’s a wheelie bag and a backpack at the same time, that’s magic.

“You like it?” It’s Deana talking to me. “Would you like to keep your things in it?”

“Maybe one that’s not pink,” says Paul to her. “What about this one, Jack, pretty cool or what?” He’s holding up a bag of Spider-Man.

I give Dora a big hug. I think she whispers, Hola, Jack.

Deana tries to take the Dora bag but I won’t let her. “It’s OK, I just have to pay the lady, you’ll get it back in two seconds. .” It’s not two seconds, it’s thirty-seven.

“There’s the bathroom,” says Paul and he runs off.

The lady’s wrapping the bag in paper so I can’t see Dora anymore, she puts it into a big cardboard, then Deana gives it to me, swinging it on its strings. I take Dora out and put my arms in her straps and I’m wearing it, I’m actually wearing Dora.

“What do you say?” asks Deana.