Page 70 - WTP Vol.VII #3

Canary (continued from preceding page)
“I want some cherry pie,” she repeats in a mocking tone.
canoodling in a dressing room.”
“What are you going on about?” Merrily says.
“You’re not very professional.”
“Even though they got all bent out of shape about it, and threatened to cashier me, I veritably killed them with kindness. And it worked! We had a good run despite the rough patches. We were professional. What are your goals today, Merrily, if I may be so bold?”
Merrily glances at her wristwatch. “They should be back any sec.”
Nellie opens her mouth and vomits into her plate. This so startles me I knock my fork off the table. Merrily summons the two broad-shouldered men in white who rush over posthaste. Each takes Nellie by one skeletal arm. She doesn’t resist. They lift her out of her chair like a papier-mâché dummy and hustle her away.
Sometimes when I get anxious I like to sing. Singing is a way of releasing withheld emotion. I am not a good singer, but after many years of training and perform- ing I can hold a tune. Children like to hear me sing—at least they used to back in the day.
“Why did they do that?” I ask Merrily, standing there, hands on her generous hips.
“Row row row your boat ...”
“Stop it,” Merrily says.
“Gently down the stream ...”
“I’m warning you!”
“Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily ...”
“She disrespected her food. Now are you going to fin- ish yours?”
I glance at the limp greens and congealed corn on my plate and throw my napkin over it.
Merrily comes to my side. I stop singing but continue humming the melody. She says nothing but I can feel her hot breath on my cheek.
“Guess that’s a no,” Merrily says. “I want some cherry pie.”
“I’ve had about enough of this act,” she says quietly. “Eventually you’re gonna have to let it go. You’re