Chapter 2 \u00a0 \u00a0<\/strong><\/h4>\nElsa turned off the television\u2014her constitutional evening treat: a single episode from a Scottish detective series. She tiptoed up the stairs, past the silhouette of the supper\u2019s unwashed pots and pans, and then paused in the dark hall, outside Oscar\u2019s bedroom door. She knocked softly. Oscar lay in bed reading. She crept over the clothes strewn on the floor and turned on his bedside light. \u201cYour eyes need strong lighting when you read.\u201d She kissed his forehead. \u201cYou should really clean this up. Leroy is going to sneak in here and pee on all your clothes\u2014most of them look clean.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s on my schedule tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve heard that before.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you have school tomorrow?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, from nine to noon.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLove you,\u201d she said when she reached the door.<\/p>\n
\u201cLove you too,\u201d he said and then shouted, \u201cLove you, Dad!\u201d The house was silent.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s asleep,\u201d Elsa said.<\/p>\n
\u201cNight Mom, love you!\u201d Flora shouted from behind her closed door.<\/p>\n
\u201cLove you too, Sun-Flower, goodnight.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Elsa stumbled into the dark bedroom, careful to avoid the base of the spin bike. It was ten. Hugo had been asleep for at least an hour and a half. She slipped under the covers. \u201cHugo\u2014Hugo\u2014wake up. We need to talk.\u201d Hugo made no indication he was alive. She couldn\u2019t even hear his breaths. \u201cYou\u2019re always asleep or at the University. The kids are always home. I never get to talk to you!\u201d Her voice raised in pitch but the volume was low, Wyatt and Flora were just down the hall, and although Oscar\u2019s room was at the opposite end of the hall, at night, on the quiet mountain, voices carried.<\/p>\n
Hugo rolled over, his voice was surprisingly alert, \u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/p>\n
Elsa wondered if he\u2019d been faking being asleep. \u201cI\u2019m worried about my students. Why do you think they\u2019re not reaching out? If anything, they should be more stressed since COVID.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know. They\u2019re probably busy with their online courses.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAll I get is questions from the smarty-pants kids\u2014worrying about their grades.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe those are the kids who are the most stressed out.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe\u2014Wyatt has no interest in finishing the rose garden. He only does whatever Flora does. He doesn\u2019t offer to help with the dishes unless Flora\u2019s doing them. He\u2019s living here for free. He should at least help out. We treat him like family\u2014he should be doing chores like family. If he\u2019s not going to pitch in, maybe we should consider charging room and board\u2014something inexpensive, just to help cover the extra groceries.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, he\u2019s important to Flora. She needs the support. Wait until she\u2019s finished exams.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen she starts that summer course\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s communication in Engineering\u2014it will be a break from math.\u201d<\/p>\n
Elsa considered that perhaps Hugo was right. Flora needed Wyatt\u2019s presence to get her through the dredges of the second term of Engineering. It had been a brutal first year. She failed a course in the first semester. Hugo said Engineering was designed to cram as much content as possible into the first year\u2014it was a cruel load that psychologically broke even the most promising students\u2026.and then the pandemic abruptly forced everyone online. Lockdown was unnatural for young adults. They needed to be out, socializing, meeting people. Flora was nineteen, without Wyatt in her social bubble, she\u2019d be completely isolated from her peers. Wyatt was basically a good kid, just immature. Though, it seemed to Elsa that he treated his presence in the house as an entitlement, as Princess Flora\u2019s lover.<\/p>\n
The bedroom air was stale. Hugo never thought to crack open a window before falling asleep. It was nearly May, Elsa wanted to hear the coyotes howling at night and bird songs in the morning. She felt her way around the end of the bed, past the exercise bike to the window. She pried open the wooden shutters and pushed open the glass. The crisp night air rushed into the stagnant room; it smelled of the massive pile of new soil that sat next to the rose garden, beneath the window. Goosebumps formed on her bare arms as she crawled into bed and pulled the cotton sheet over her bare legs. The scent of marijuana drifted in through the open window. Richard\u2014the neighbour\u2014 was smoking weed in his garage. The smell floated into their bedroom on nights the air was still. Elsa supposed that he left the garage side-door propped open as a bogus invitation to the universe so that smoking weed alone every night in a garage was not as sad as it seemed. <\/em><\/p>\nThe bedroom door opened. \u201cWhat is it?\u201d asked Elsa, instantly awake\u2014trained, after nearly two decades of being awakened at night by babies, toddlers, and then frightened or ill children. Although it was almost routine, it still felt like a cold hand squeezed her heart every time the bedroom door opened unexpectedly, as it signaled that something was not right in her family.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom?\u201d Oscar\u2019s voice had not yet changed, so it was sometimes difficult to distinguish between his and Flora\u2019s. If Flora was calling her, it meant things were dire, as Wyatt usually served as a buffer for Flora\u2019s minor issues. But as a matriarch, Elsa could not reveal her fear.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is it?\u201d Elsa said, trying to sound optimistic.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy throat hurts.\u201d<\/p>\n
It was Oscar. Elsa felt relief. \u201cGet yourself a drink and take a Tylenol. It\u2019s probably allergies.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t think it\u2019s allergies.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEverything\u2019s blooming. You were out in the forest today\u2014there\u2019s pollen everywhere.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt hurts to swallow\u2014do you think it could be COVID?\u201d<\/p>\n
Elsa opened the covers. \u201cCome here and lie down for a minute.\u201d Oscar crawled in beside her. Elsa wrapped her arms around him and kissed his head. Oscar had a history of worry, during fire season, his nighttime visits involved reassuring him that the fires were far away and that the house would not burn in the night. \u201cIt\u2019s not COVID. There\u2019s no way you could have caught it. You\u2019re social distancing and have only seen the same four friends and they\u2019re all healthy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you sure?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes. Now, why don\u2019t you go back to your bed and I\u2019ll bring you a cold drink, and Tylenol and tuck you in, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay,\u201d Oscar said, sounding mollified. He flung off the duvet and walked out of the dark room ahead of Elsa.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a9Mix Hart 2020<\/h5>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
A Rose Garden Chapter 2 \u00a0 \u00a0 Elsa turned off the television\u2014her constitutional evening treat: a single episode from a Scottish detective series. She tiptoed up the stairs, past the silhouette of the supper\u2019s unwashed pots and pans, and then … Read 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<\/p>\n