I suddenly felt dizzy, like my head was full of sawdust. The lights in my room grew dim and flickered. My eyes were locked with the reddish black eyes of the speaking mummy. He was glaring at my forehead, raking a trowel through my memory. IT felt like all the blood in my body was being pulled through my skin. Felix Arjona was an ancient dark vortex, sucking the life out of the room, out of the gendarmes, out of me.
I should have heard Enid’s voice coming down the hallway, but I was still in my cloud of bliss. My head felt full of cotton, my limbs heavy with spent desire. If I moved, the moment would change, the warmth would be gone. Louis might disappear.
I opened my eyes, wondering at a star shaped mole on his nape. I was unable to gauge time or logic because it did not exist for me outside this bed.
I hated my room. Enid had acquired and over decorated the space with every pink, lacy, ruffled piece of garbage she could find. There was no room for me on my bed because of doily pillows and ugly dolls. Dolls that I could not even play with because they were vintage and might break. I knocked one off and the face chipped, and then the eye would not quite roll back right. Her name was Jenny Lind according to the stamp on her trapezoid doll butt. But I called her Blinky Lou. I would lay her flat, but she still watched me as I tried to sleep.
ouis believed that the moment Ig was gone, we would be a happy family. Like the family on the Life board game or eating together in Pillsbury crescent roll commercials. That we would start calling Enid “mom” and she would suddenly be a devoted mother. That immediately Arthur would stop sleeping in the shed and play with his human children rather than his wooden family
One morning, my hand mirror broke. As I was picking up the pieces, I caught a reflection of my face at an odd angle. I was suddenly Enid. I had her looks and her charming smile, and all of her brokenness underneath. I slammed the hand mirror on the floor repeatedly until all the glass was gone from the frame. I was Grimwalt’s Monster. I had to fix me.
It was a large stuffed Stitch doll. My son has gotten it as a present it terrified him. He would not have it in his room. It was decided that Doc might liked something that he couldn’t tear up right away. And we were right, Doc LOVED it. He loved it in the way male dogs show their adolescent affection to legs and objects and other dogs. Stitch was his bitch. He loved it so much and so hard that the head fell off.