Page 11 of Little Etheldreda Riding Hood
“Thanks, Darla.”
Her eyes study me for several moments before turning to the door. “Oh, by the way, the cats think they own the place, so keep the door shut if you don’t want cat hair everywhere.”
“I won’t mind at all. They were here first.”
She nods, like I’ve said the right thing, and leaves me to my own devices. I leave the door cracked just a bit in the hopes that I will have cat visitors, then get into the shower to wash the previous night away. It’s early and I did get a little bit of sleep, but the bed looks inviting. I text Mae and Jim to let them know I got here safe and fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.
“WWWHHHHHHRRRRRRRR!”
The sound–something between a scream and an angry goose hiss–rips me from sleep completely. I sit up in bed before my eyes are fully open, my hands groping along the top of the nightstand in hopes of finding something to defend myself with in the dimness of the unfamiliar room. It takes a minute to remember where I am as the noise continues just beyond the partially open bedroom door.
“WWWHHHHHHRRRRRRRRR!”
Feet like hooves stomp down the hall of the single-wide trailer.
“GOMEZ, WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP?” Darla whisper-yells from somewhere down the hall. I blink, trying to remember where I am, and what the hell could be making that noise as the hall light cuts on.
“Gomez, it’s just Red. Leave her alone. She’s trying to sleep.” Darla’s voice is softer this time as the screaming softens to more of an angry grunt.
I blink again, my heart racing. Through the half-open door, I see Darla in a red maxidress that drags along the floor. She bends over and scoops up something furry in her arms. She reaches to shut my door and notices me sitting up in bed.
“Sorry about that, Red. Gomez, Morticia, and the joeys usually sleep in the guest room if I have to bring them in when it storms.”
It’s hard to see with the bright light spilling in behind her, but the furry thing in her arms isn’t one of the million cats she owns. It’s a possum. “Is that…you have possums? Don’t they fight with the cats?”
Darla shrugs, “Not much. Sorry for the ruckus, we’ll let you get back to sleep.” She closes the door with a click, and I lay back down, pulling the covers over my head. I’m almost asleep when the door is pushed open again and the angry scream returns. With a sigh, I get up and turn on the light. Two possums are standing in the doorway, one with babies clutching to her back.
“The bed is mine, but you’re welcome to share the room, if you stop making that noise,” I tell them.
Morgan always teased me about talking to animals and expecting them to answer back, but the possums seem to understand. Mom and Dad possum…what did Darla call them? Morticia, Gomez, and their joeys waddle into the room and curl up in the corner next to the floor vent. They click and chatter, but it’s soft enough that eventually my brain is able to shut it out, and I fall back into a dreamless sleep for what feels like two minutes before they’re screaming again.
This time, when I wake up, Gomez, Morticia, and all the babies are at the door demanding to be let out. I follow them through the living room and to the front door where they wait expectantly for me to open the door.
“Sorry about that,” Darla apologizes.
I shake my head, yawning. “Sorry for sleeping the day away. It’s not like me.”
Darla shakes her head. “You’ve been through a lot, Red. It takes its toll.”
I feel guilty knowing that it’s mostly my late night with Zach that’s knocked me out today, but I keep that to myself.
“What time is it?”
“Five-thirty. Are you hungry? I was thinking about making breakfast for dinner.”
I nod. “That actually sounds amazing.”
It feels like second grade again, standing in Darla’s kitchen, helping cook. Except this time, I’m big enough to work the stove too. She cooks eggs and bacon while I make pancakes. I make more than enough for us and the spoiled possums. It’s peaceful and calm. As I look around her trailer, I can really start to see myself living a life like this. I have no idea what I’ll do for a living, but the peace of living alone, with animals in a place that’s entirely mine, sounds amazing right now.
I should have come here in the beginning. Darla makes no demands on me. We don’t have to rehash my breakup or even talk about it. She tells me about her job at a vet clinic in town, a group of pigs that wanders around and visits her often, and a little gobelin boy who’s obsessed with Morticia and Gomez. Apparently, he’s very close to convincing his dad to let him adopt one of the joeys.
I could do this forever, I decide. Animals and food and quiet.
I’ve spent the last five years chasing the dream of having what mama had with my step dad and what Mae has with Jim. But not everyone gets that. Not everyone needs that out of life. Maybe I just need to figure this out on my own. I need to decide who I want to be without worrying about men or marriage.
“Whatcha thinking?” Darla asks and I realize I’ve been silent for too long.
I smile. “I wished I’d come here sooner. I think I’m really going to really like it here.”