She bent over the bed, sounding even to herself like an echo from the past, and whispered, “Wake up, J.C. Wake up.” As though it were forty years ago and they were still children.
I’ll take care of you, J.C. used to say. I’ll always take care of you. When we grow up, I’ll build you a house on top of a hill and the two of us will live there forever.
I’ll take care of you, J.C. used to say. I’ll always take care of you. When we grow up, I’ll build you a house on top of a hill and the two of us will live there forever.But it wasn’t a boy on the bed. It was a man with grizzled hair and a large body, thickened and blurred with time. He woke up with an indistinct mumble as though he was frightened, and said, “What—what, who’s there?”
“Hush. You’ll wake Doris.” She put her hand over his mouth
