October 25, 1988

5 days remaining

Rose Darko leaned out of the open screen door, shouting at Samantha to be careful on that trampoline. Sproing. Sproing. The fallen leaves and drizzles of rain had made the taut surface treacherous to bounce on. Samantha yelled back, "I'll be okay, Mom!" but the front doorbell had rung and Rose was already heading back inside.

She opened the front door, only to reveal Kittie Farmer on the threshold. Rose put her hands on her hips. "Kittie," she acknowledged curtly. The gym teacher appeared not to have noticed the iciness in her voice, wringing her hands in dismay. An appeal for something. "Rose! We have a crisis. I'm sure that you're aware of the horrible allegations against Jim Cunningham-"

"I know, I saw it on TV. Something about a 'kiddie porn dungeon'..."

Kittie implored in that high, crackling tone of hers. "Please! Don't use those words! It's obviously some kind of conspiracy to destroy an innocent man! Therefore, I have taken it upon myself to spearhead the JCDC: The Jim Cunningham Defence Campaign."

Rose wasn't sure she was hearing correctly. "What?"

"Rose... I have to appear at his arraignment tomorrow morning. And as you know, the girls are scheduled to leave for Los Angeles in the morning. Now, as their coach, I was the obvious choice to chaperone them on their trip-"

There it was. Rose knew there would be a catch. "But now you can't go." She tutted sympathetically. Pretended to consider, hemming and hawing. Stringing it out.

Kittie leaped back in. "Now, believe me, of all the other mothers I would never dream of asking you. But none of the other mothers are available to go!"

Rose sighed. It was no use making faces at a blind woman. "I don't know Kitty. It's a bad weekend. Eddie's in New York, and-"

Kittie's cry of outrage brought Samantha to the scene, and Rose had to shoo her back out. "Rose! I don't know if you realise what an opportunity this is for our daughters! This has been a dream of Samantha's and all of ours for a long time. I made her lead dancer!"

Her words had become an injured howl. "Sometimes I doubt your commitment to Sparkle Motion!" Kittie cried, tears welling in her shrivelled eyes.

By all that was fair in the world, Rose Darko would have been good to slam the door on Kittie Farmer's face right there on the steps. But it was a beautiful day, if a little cloudy. And Donnie and Elizabeth could take care of themselves.

Yes. She would ignore the burning sensation in her gut and do it. Samantha was, after all, the lead dancer.

It seemed like moments later, but that evening Rose found herself staring at the hallway calendar posted to the wall. It had suddenly seemed very important to know what day of the month it was, so she'd wandered into the house to check. And then she'd found this.

Donnie had tacked one of his pencil drawings over the cute pumpkins-and-witches photo that had originally been part of the calendar. The month of October now displayed a grotesque, melting depiction of a nightmare room, an acid trip in greyscale. A clock featured prominently to the side. In the foreground stood what could only be described as a large rabbit.

Frank. Rose felt tendrils of resent towards the name. This hideous... This creature... Whatever it was, it had come between her and her son. It was making him into someone else. Someone she could no longer talk to. She didn't understand why Frank didn't leave with the pills Donnie took. If he was still taking them. Rose sometimes made him swallow while she was watching, but he'd hated that and the tension between them only increased.

She stroked the picture gently with a finger. Some charcoal came off on her skin, darkening it. She felt another presence in the room with her and jumped. Donnie stood on the stairs, watching her.

They went upstairs to his room and sat on his bed. Rose explained the situation calmly, though her insides were still boiling. "I have to take the girls to Los Angeles tomorrow."

"Do you get to meet Ed McMahon?"

"If I'm lucky. I won't be back until the first. Your dad will be back on Sunday, so I've put Elizabeth in charge until then. She has the car, so she can drive you to therapy tomorrow."

Donnie shivered. Arms at his sides, limp. Vulnerable. "How does it feel to have a wacko for a son?" he said softly.

Rose hugged him as hard as she dared. "It feels wonderful."

That night, Donnie wrote a letter. Sealed it carefully. Penned 'EXTREMELY IMPORTANT' in big red letters on the front, the name of the addressee in the middle. When he put it in the mailbox, he found that the red flag had rusted, stuck in the down position. Spent fifteen minutes pulling at it until it jerked free. Nobody came out of the house or shouted at him through the darkened windows. He pedalled off, satisfied.