"Four hours is, what, forty pounds, yeah?" Mrs. Spencer says, fishing through her wallet.
"Yes, ma'am," I say, looking her in the eye for a moment, then looking back down at the wood floor of their house. It's a nice house, a clean house, and the entry hall smells of pine.
"Here's a fifty," Mr. Spencer says, handing me a £50 note. "Thanks for watching Eddie."
I look up towards him, but not directly at him. "I don't have change, sir."
He opens his mouth and shakes his head slightly. Then: "I don't care, just take it. What's ten pounds anyway? You do a good job; think of it as a raise."
"Okay," I say, then take it slowly from him.
"Violet should be here soon, if you want to say hullo," Mrs. Spencer says, touching her fur-lined coat with her gloved hand. "She's out with some of the other girls in your class. Do you like tea?" She looks at her husband. "We still have those lemon biscuits, don't we?"
"I have to go," I say.
"Oh," she says, looking at me with concerned eyes. I wonder if she's really worried or if she feels guilty, because she's so much wealthier than I am. "Well, I can take you back home, if you like? Is your Aunt back from work yet?"
No, but I don't tell her that.
"Thanks for…" I raise the £50 note, too embarrassed to say it. "And tell Eddie I had fun today!"
The Spencers look at me in the hallway. He in his crisp, pressed suit, she with her just-done auburn hair and the conservative, navy cocktail dress. They're a handsome couple, fresh and decent, and Violet adores them. She incessantly documents their every family outing the moment she has a chance. Violet and I aren't close, though. I think she finds her parent's sympathetic attitude towards me threatening. I understand. I would, too.
I had parents. Lily and James Potter. They're dead now, a car crash. I have no pictures of them, but when I imagine them, I imagine the Spencers. Dad's a little fairer in his complexion than Mr. Spencer, and Mum with long black hair instead of auburn. Her skin's darker, too, since she's half-pakistani. But the large eyelashes, the soft features, those are the same. Violet's lucky. I'm not.
In the end, it doesn't matter if you're a good person or not, I guess. It matters if you're lucky. Good people still die randomly in car accidents. And then their kid gets sent off to live with their horrible aunt and her horrible son.
But also Verna. Who I need to go see now.
I hop on my bike and speed off back home. Last I checked, Verna was acting like she had a cold, so I washed the sheets, situated her in bed, and gave her Little House in the Big Woods to get her started. Laura Ingalls Wilder books are some of my favorite books of all time. I love reading through them and imagining life on the American prairie, making quilts, playing silly games with my sister, if I had a sister.
Verna's basically my sister. She's my whole world.
I park my bike and lock it, then take my key out and climb up the apartment stairs. The white paint on the building is stained pretty badly now. I wonder if they ever intended this complex to look inviting.
I step inside the apartment and hear the telly still on, blaring football or whatever. So irresponsible - does Petunia think we're made of money? I turn it off and turn to find a bag of old Chinese food still sitting on the couch. This place will need a good clean, but first things first.
I lean against the door frame of Verna's room and glance in. She's sleeping now, the book flopped open just out of reach at the edge of the bed. I tiptoe in, taking the book and placing it on the nightstand before sitting down next to her and brushing her hair back. "Hi, angel."
"Harry?" she says sleepily, turning over to look at me with barely open eyes. She never says "Mum" when she wakes up - always "Harry," which drives Petunia crazy.
I smile, and put my hand over her forehead. "You feeling better? Sorry to wake you." Her forehead's still warm. Hopefully Petunia didn't misplace her thermometer like she always does.
She nods slightly. "I'm sleepy."
"That's okay! Sleep is the best possible thing for you, right now. I read that online. Let me get you some more water. You need to stay hydrated."
"Will you read to me afterwards?" she asks, large brown eyes staring into mine.
"Sure, until you fall asleep again. Did you like the book?"
She nods. "I want to live in a cabin someday with you. And Mum, too, and maybe Dudley if he acts right."
I laugh. "Wouldn't that be fun? And wait until you read the second one - it's my favorite. The prairie is magical."
I take the empty glass from her nightstand and fill it up with cold tap water, then add two ice cubes from the freezer. I hand it to her, and she adjusts herself slightly to drink it before handing it back to me. She smiles, a dreamy smile on a flushed round face, shining from the polish of sweat. She takes my hand again. "I love you."
"I love you, too," I say. "Do you want me to read now?"
I hear the door burst open and squeeze my eyes shut for a moment.
Dammit.
And I didn't even get time to clean up the trash.
The overpowering scent of lavender fills the room and Petunia comes rushing in. She's wearing a too-tight spaghetti strap dress and her bleached blond hair makes her tanned skin look extra burnt today. Petunia's naturally fair-skinned, like I assume her brother, my dad, was, but she tries her damnedest to hide the fact to less than stellar results. I'm sure Mum's skin was always effortlessly sun-kissed.
"Hiiiiiiii, baby!" she coos, reaching her arms out towards Verna. She doesn't even bother to acknowledge me.
Verna extends her arms towards Petunia. "Mummy!"
Petunia rocks her back and forth. "Oh, I've missed you so much." She glances at the glass of water on the nightstand and says nothing.
"She's still got a little fever," I say.
Petunia looks at me. Then, to Verna, "Guess who scored the big goal!"
As if to answer the question, the stench of body odor overwhelms us, and Dudley appears in his cleats, tossing up the football into the air and catching it as if trying to show off. Guess who'll be cleaning up the dirt he tracked in to the house.
"Good job," Verna says.
"And…" Petunia says, looking from Dudley to Verna. "Guess who made Assistant Manager."
Verna cheers and claps her hands. Dudley raises an eyebrow, and slicks back his damp blonde hair.
"You got it?" I say.
"Yes," she says, turning towards me, the smiling fading from her face. "Why? Didn't you think I could?"
"Are they going to pay you a better salary?" I ask.
"Are we rich?!" Dudley shouts, his mouth left open in astonishment.
Petunia grins. "Might as well be." She turns back towards me, her smile already faded into a thin little line. "Speaking of which, do you have something to give me, Harriet?"
"It's not on me," I lie.
She nods, eyes narrowing slightly. "How much they give you?"
"Forty." Another lie.
Last year, Petunia took me aside and told me it was time to start paying my keep. She looked me straight in the eyes and told me if I didn't help with the expenses, that she would have no problem kicking me to the street, and that I could have fun living my life as a statistic. I was eleven years old. I have never hated anyone more.
"Later then, kay?" Her voice is clipped. She turns back to Dudley. "What about you and me going to the zoo tomorrow for your birthday, Dudster? Wouldn't you like that?"
He nods, tosses the football, then catches it. "Whatever. I guess that's fine. Can I bring Joel?"
Joel means a whole other ticket and god knows how much money thrown down the garbage for their appetite and lack of restraint.
"Whatever you want, darling. It's your birthday. We're got money to spend now! You can have ten friends come if you like!"
We all know that's a lie.
"I'll stay home with Verna," I say to no one in particular.
"But I want to go, too!" Verna says, looking at me and then Petunia.
"You-," I start to say, before Petunia cuts me off.
"Of course you can go!" She kisses Verna's forehead dramatically. Then, to me, with a triumphant look. "Of course she can go!"
"She has a fever," I say.
"Only a little one!" Petunia rubs Verna's forehead a little too harshly, then looks back at me. "And you can go, too. Teach you to be less of a stick up everyone's butt."
I suck my lips in, willing them not to retort back something ugly.
Me being a stick up everyone's butt. Sure. That's the problem. Not that she's a grown-up woman taking her nine-year old daughter who has a fever to an amusement park just to pretend like she's a good mum. Just because she's jealous her nearly thirteen year-old niece who's basically an adult now is a better caretaker than she is.
No wonder Vernon left her.
The sun beats down on us as we stand in queue for tickets. I fan Verna's face, wiping the sweat from her cheeks, and we make up songs to cajole the rain to come and cool us off.
"Rain, rain, come to stay! Won't you be our friend and play?" I sing.
Verna squeals. "Rain, rain, come and play! Won't you make the rain fall… down." She looks embarrassed, realizing "down" doesn't rhyme with "play," but then we both giggle.
"Come and turn the blue skies gray!" I sing.
"Wow, you are so annoying," Dudley says, pushing his sunglasses up from his face.
"And you still haven't grown boobs," Joel adds. "What are you, a 'Z' cup?"
Dudley and Joel high-five each other.
I ignore them, turning back to Verna. "What else rhymes with gray?"
"Gay," Joel says, then snickers.
"You're mean," Verna says, brow furrowed.
"You're pretty," I say to Verna with a smile. "I like your hair ribbons today."
She smiles back at me.
"Queer," Dudley says, half under his breath.
"Can you teach me to braid my hair like yours?" Verna asks.
I nod. "Yeah, when we get inside." But then that hair is going to need to be put up. It's making her even hotter, lying down her back like that.
We get to the ticket stand and the ticket master rings us up. Petunia fishes through her wallet. "God, I know it's here somewhere." She pulls out a £20 note, a £10 note, then another £20 note. "This is all I have." She looks genuinely embarrassed. "I thought I put my credit card in here, but I must have left it on the table!"
"This is why we should have bought the tickets online," I mutter under my breath.
She whirls around to face me. "Well, sorry we can't all be child prodigies like you now, can we, Harriet?"
"Ooooo," Joel and Dudley say together.
I pull the fifty from my pocket and hand it to the Ticketmaster. "Here's forty for us."
"That's a fifty," Petunia says, slowly, looking at it.
He gives us an uncomfortable look and deposits the money into the register before taking out a ten. I grab it before Petunia can, but she grabs my wrist with an iron grip.
"Ow!" I yell.
"That's mine," she replies, her teeth gritted.
"I need money to buy Verna a drink!" I reply, my voice starting to get louder.
She grabs the ten with her other hand. "I'll buy everyone a drink, thank you."
The Ticketmaster gives me one last, awkward look before calling the next people in line forward. Dudley and Joel leap out into the plaza and start punching at the air like they're in combat, then run towards the edge of the Gorilla exhibit near the entrance to the Reptile House.
"We want to see the monkeys!" Joel yells.
Dudley stretches his arms. "Yeah, there's one with a huge mustache that looks like he's an old butler!"
Joel bursts out laughing, and Dudley follows.
"Verna needs a drink," I say to Petunia. "She's been in the hot sun for thirty minutes, and she still has a fever."
"She's fine," Petunia snarls, grabbing Verna's hand. "We'll get drinks later after we see the monkeys."
I fold my arms and follow them. If I had magic, I would strike her dead here and now.
The monkeys are in the back of the zoo, of course, and eventually Petunia lets go of Verna's hand. We steal peaks at the tigers and the alpacas and sing silly rain rhymes when the boys are out of earshot, but I can tell she's growing fainter. The sun is so damn hot, and the sky is so damn blue, and there isn't a cloud in sight.
I fan Verna while the boys make faces at the monkeys and do terrible impressions of old butlers, scratching their butts to be extra obnoxious, and howling with laughter.
"Are you okay?" I ask her. "Do you want to see the monkeys?"
She nods, though her eyelids are starting to look heavy. I point out the one the boys keep talking about, a small, dark monkey with a bright white mustache.
She smiles at me. "He looks like an old grandpa!"
I grin back at her. "Isn't he sweet?"
She nods and clutches my hand.
"Do you need a drink?" I ask her. "We can go find a water fountain."
She nods again. Her eyes look pained. I brush the sweat off her brow once more.
I turn around to Petunia, who's handing me something.
"Really?" I say, slowly, taking the £10 note.
She rolls her eyes. "Don't use it all up."
"Okay," I say. Then: "Thanks. We'll meet you by the Reptile House."
I get a water for Verna, but I can already hear her breathing's starting to get ragged.
"Is she okay?" The shop vender says.
I want to say no. I want to say nothing is okay, but how can you explain that to a stranger? So instead I say, "She's hot."
We walk towards the reptile house. Families pass us, all smiling, all cheerful. Why couldn't we have been born into those families? Why couldn't we be having a nice time at this beautiful zoo instead of… Instead of…
"I want to lie down," Verna says to me.
I shake my head. "No, no, you can't lie down. The Reptile House has benches. Just wait a few more minutes and then we can sit down. It'll be cooler in there."
She looks so frail.
I want to cry, but I can't. This is so awful. Maybe if she sits down, though - maybe…
We step inside, and she leans against me. "I don't feel good."
I put my hand to her forehead and wince. She's burning up. This is bad.
"Let's sit down," I say, trying not to alarm her.
We find a seat nearby a boa constrictor exhibit - the only seat left unoccupied. I give her the bottle of water, but she tries to refuse it.
"You've got to drink," I tell her. "Please Verna."
She takes a few sips and blinks slowly. I press the bottle against her face.
"I love you," she says.
"I love you-" I choke. "I love you, too."
Oh my god, this is bad. This is very bad. I've got to get her out of here. I've got to get her to a hospital. I look around frantically for one of the zookeepers, janitors, tour guides, anyone at all. Parents rush by. I try to call out, but it's too crowded. They're going too fast. My heart's pounding in my chest.
"There you are," Dudley says. "Where's the change?"
"Dudley, we have to-," I start to say.
"Cool!" Joel rushes up to the Boa Constrictor's exhibit, eyes huge.
"Bloody hell!" Dudley says, rushing up next to him.
"Dudley!" I yell. "Listen to me! We-,"
"Wake him up!" Joel exclaims to Dudley.
"Dudley, please!"
"WAKE UP! WAKE UP!" Dudley yells, pounding his fists on the glass.
"Dudley, stop-,"
"WAKE UP, WAKE UP, WAKE UP!"
I'm starting to get dizzy. I'm so angry. I'm struggling to breathe. But I'm so angry. "Dudley, stop!" I shout.
"WAKE UP, WAKE UP, WAKE UP!"
"Dudley-,"
"WAKE UP, WAKE UP!"
"STOP IT!" I scream.
Except…
Except Dudley's the one screaming. And he's toppled over into the Boa Constrictor exhibit.
There's no breaking of glass. No warning.
One moment that glass was there, and the next it…
It wasn't…
A gentleman rushes over to see what the commotion is, and suddenly everyone's screaming.
The boa constrictor is lifting himself off of the branch and slithering out of the exhibit.
Towards Verna and I.
Verna's clutching at my shirt, but she's too weak to fully register what's going on.
The boa constrictor's drawing closer, a giant mass of tan circles and chestnut stripes, flicking his tongue out at us like he's waving a gun in a gang fight.
I can't move. I know I should take Verna and bolt, but I can't move.
"Don't eat us," I say.
Except…
I don't exactly say.
That is, I say the words, but the words don't seem to come out of my mouth.
The constrictor inches closer to us, raises his head, then seems to dance for a moment. Then, clear as day, the boa says, If you insissst and slithers on past us.
And that's when I black out.