Elizabeth stood in the doorway to the basement in early afternoon. Her hands were on her hips. Her head was tilted.
She said, “I need your help.”
I rolled over on the cot, away from her. I pulled the thin blanket up and over my shoulder.
She chuckled. “That never works on me. I’m a mother. I’ve raised three boys. You’ll lose.”
“Go away.”
“I need your help,” she said again. “It’s Sunday, so it’s tradition. But it’s not just a normal Sunday. We have things to prepare for. Get up.”
“No.”
“Get up, Robbie.”
“Fuck off.”
“If that’s how it’s going to be.”
I heard her go back up the stairs.
I couldn’t believe it was that easy.
It wasn’t.
A few minutes later she came back. She was grunting and muttering under her breath, talking about stubborn wolves who didn’t know their asses from their elbows. I didn’t turn to look at her. Nothing she could say would—
Cold water sprayed my back.
I yelped and fell off the cot.
Elizabeth stood on the other side of the silver, a nozzle attached to a hose in her hand.
“You’re all wet,” she said amiably. “Shall I do it again, or are you going to get up and come help me?”
“What is wrong with you? Why would you—oh my god, stop!” Water filled my mouth and nose. I choked and sat up, water dripping off my cheeks and chin.
“This is hurting me as much as it’s hurting you.”
“Then why the hell are you smiling?”
She shrugged. “Because you keep shaking yourself like a wet dog. It’s adorable. Are you going to get up?” She pointed the nozzle at me again.
“You can’t just torture me into—”
She snorted. “Torture. Cute. If I was torturing you, you’d know it.”
I glared at her. “Was that supposed to make me feel better? Because it didn’t.”
“Oh no,” she said. “That wasn’t meant to make you feel better at all. It was a threat.” She squinted at me. “Do you not know when you’re being threatened? That’s not good. I’ll have to make my intentions clearer, then. Robbie. Get up. You’re coming to help me. If you don’t, I will torture you.”
“Like hell you—aah!”
I got another face full of water.
“I could do this all day,” she said. “I’d rather not, since I have so much to do and so little time to do it, but I could. And if not me, then I’m sure I can find someone who would be willing to keep this up in my place.”
I sighed and looked up toward the ceiling. My hair stuck to my head. “You mean that, don’t you?”