Arlene didn’t hear the rest of Anna’s breathy words; her mind was whirring.
Cardboard from a box of cat food. That’s about a foot by eight or so inches, give or take…two big pieces…a pair—
“Anna, she’s getting ready for tonight. Her costume had wings on it, out of cardboard. They wouldn’t have held up after all these years. See, I was right, she is going to come out as—”
On the other end of the line, all Arlene could hear was wheezing, and asked, “Anna, is something wrong?”
A pause, then, “No, I had bronchitis when I was a kid…diminished lung capacity. I was running to get back here and I overdid it. I’ll be fine in a minute.”
“Well, go lie down. Sit with your head between your knees.”
“No, no…I’m fine, really. Just winded. Be…better in a minute.”
“But how will you manage tonight?”
