Ruby's Slippers by Leanna Ellis Read Free Book Online Page A

it.”
    Gloria sits beside me on the bed, looking at me curiously.
    I rub my forehead. “Maybe I’m remembering it all wrong.”
    Momma was prone to quote from the movie. “Your father’s following his yellow-brick road” is how she explained our father’s absence. “Abby is seeking her somewhere over the rainbow” described Abby’s acting career. When we’d head off to school or church or the doctor, she’d sometimes warble, off-key, “We’re off to see the wizard!” When I was sick and in bed, Momma would dab my forehead with a cool cloth and say, “There’s no place like home, is there?”
    “No place like home,” I repeat now, giving the shoes to Gloria.
    She smiles. “Movies are such a part of our lives, aren’t they?”
    “Frankly, my dear …” My smile feels a bit hollow at the moment.
    She laughs. “You’re really doing so well. You’ll be outof this place in no time.” She gives my arm a gentle squeeze, then carefully places the shoes back on the table with all the other gifts, cards, and plants. “They’re a nice imitation. Don’t you think?”
    * * *
    “DUNCAN MEYERS,” GLORIA tells me later that week.
    I’m in the middle of eating one of the many small meals I’m allowed throughout the day. Small, mushy, and pretty much tasteless. At the mention of my father’s name, my insides turn to mush.
    “Do you know him?” she asks. “He has your same last name.”
    I can’t speak for the tightness in my throat.
    She rushes forward. “Are you okay? Choking?”
    I manage to push down the lump of scrambled eggs. “He’s my father.”
    “Oh! Of course. I wish he’d told us you were related. I remember he was very quiet.” She touches a couple of envelopes on my side table. “Mail today?”
    I nod, turn my head to the side, and stare out the window at the late-evening sun. It’s a wide, flat orange circle.
    “You okay?” she asks.
    When I blink, the room around me turns psychotic … psychedelic … the colors in the room merging, everything haloed by that orange glow. “Sure.”
    I’ve waited thirty years for my father to come home, and when he does—well, not home, but here to see me—I’m not even awake.
    “Did the physical therapist see you today?”
    “Yes,” I answer automatically.
    “And the speech therapist?”
    “Sure.” I stare at the shoes that seem to glitter from across the room. “I have to go.”
    “What’s that?” Gloria studies me. “The restroom, you mean?”
    I shake my head. “I’ve wasted so much time.”
    My recovery becomes more purposed. I begin pushing harder, forcing myself further with each exercise. I concentrate during stretching exercises, my muscles straining, my limbs shaking and quivering, and I stare at those shoes, focusing, focusing.
    When weariness overwhelms me, I think of Otto, what I must do, and I grow stronger. I force myself to breathe, in and out, in and out. A song floats out of the mist of my brain and wraps around me. The crazy sounds warp and fuse. One day, I remember Momma playing that album late at night after Abby and I went to bed. The cover was black with a prism of light. The haunting sounds wrap around me, and I focus on what I must do to get out of here.

Chapter Six
    She’s progressing well.” Gloria is speaking to someone in the hallway outside my door.
    Within arm’s reach is the walker I’ve begun to use. The flashy … fleshy part of my palms hurt from leaning almost my full weight on the handles. I stare out at the parking lot dotted with palm trees, and a yellow-brick walkway crossing the street beyond. The light plays tricks on my eyes.
    “Can I go in?” A familiar voice turns my head.
    “Craig?” I try to rise too quickly, and my hand slips on the arm of the chair.
    A sharp bark makes my heart lurch. A dark streak scampers across the floor, tiny nails scraping and clicking against the linoleum. Suddenly Otto is in my lap, licking my face. Silky fur fills my hands, and I stroke the