Along Came A Spider

CHAPTER 56

HEN SHE WORKED with the others, picking fruits nd vegetables on the side of the mountain, aggie Rose tried to remember how it had been back home. At first, her “list,” the things she remembered, was basic and very general.

Most of all, she missed her mother and father so much. She missed them every minute of every day.

She also missed her friends at school, especially Shrimpie. She missed Dukado, her “fresh” little boy kitten. And Angel, her “sweet” little boy kitten. And Nintendo games and her clothes closet. Having parties after school was so great.

So was taking a bath in the third-floor room over the gardens.

The more she thought about home, though, the more she remembered, the more Maggie Rose, improved her memory list. She missed.the way she sometimes would get between

297 her mother and father when they hugged or kissed. “We three,” she called it.

She missed characters her father had enacted for her, mostly when she was little. There was Hank, a big Southem-drawling father, who loved to exclaim “ Whooooo's talkin' to you?” There was “Susie Wooderman. ” Susie was the star of anything Maggie wanted to be in her father's stories.

There was the primal ritual whenever they had to get into the car in cold weather. They would all holler at the top of their voices, “Yuck chuck-chuck, chuck-a, chuck-a, yuck chuck-chuck.”

Her mother would make up songs and sing them to her. Her mother had sung to her ever since she could remember.

She sang, “I love you so much, Maggie, there's nothing I wouldn't do for you. Nothing in the whole wide world.” Maggie would sing, “Will you take me to Disneyland?” Her morn would answer, “I would do that, Maggie Rose.” “Would you give Dukado a big kiss on the mouth?” “I'd do it for you, Maggie Rose. There's nothing I wouldn't do.”

Maggie could remember whole days she had spent in school, going from class to class. She remembered Ms. Kim's “special winks” for her. She remembered when Angel would curl up in a chair and sweetly make a sound like “wow.”

“I'd do anything for you, dear, anything, 'cause you mean everything to me.” Maggie could still hear her morn singing the words to her.

“Would you please, please come and take me home?” Maggie sang inside her head. “Would you please, please come?”

But no one sang anything. Not anymore. No one ever sang to Maggie Rose. No one remembered her anymore. Or so she believed in her broken heart.