Minutia (A 3-Day Novel)

Bonnie, Part 5

When she woke in the morning, she had about 30 seconds of bliss in her cocoon until she remembered why she was there. She lay very still for some time, listening to footsteps upstairs, wondering what she was going to do. She knew that she should call the police or go upstairs and tell them to call the police. And Bonnie did not want to talk to the police. If she waited all day, her mother would come home, see what had happened and take care of things. This was a big thing. Her mother would have no choice but to do something. And as the adult, she would be the one to talk to police and explain and make decisions. Bonnie could go back to being a child, no apartment or old woman to look after.

Just a day. Marie would have to be home by eight or nine o'clock if she wanted to sleep and be on time for work in the morning. Bonnie decided that it was probably about seven, her usual waking time. That meant more than 12 hours to wait here in the burrow she had dug.

Her stomach growled. She had to pee. Crawling out of the hole, she avoided looked at her great-grandmother and left the room to take care of her needs. When she returned a short time later, she had a lamp and a couple of books. She spent some time rigging a tent-like structure for herself with light and a blanket thrown over top. She curled up inside, turned on the lamp, and read.

Her mother did not come home that night. In the morning, Bonnie emerged from her hole and thought she could smell her great-grandmother. It was not overwhelming, but it was a terrible thing nonetheless. The phone was ringing in the other room, but she did not want to answer it even though it might be her mother explaining why she was not home yet. Bonnie stayed put until late afternoon, getting out just for bathroom breaks and to eat, but she ate in the kitchen now because of the smell. She sprayed room freshener occasionally. She opened a window, but that made it somehow worse. Finally, late that night, Monday night with her mother still not home, Bonnie started to move things from her closet to her bed in an effort to cover her great-grandmother. It pained her slightly to be ruining her things, but it was worse to see the body there each time she emerged for something. She piled things high on the bed until there was no real sign that anyone had been there, and then she returned to her hole to try to sleep.

Tuesday came and went and there was still no sign of her mother. Someone knocked on the apartment door that evening, but Bonnie did not get up to answer it. She was afraid now of the apartment, of the shape of things out in the dark living room and kitchen.

Wednesday morning and the smell was unbearable. She could no longer stay in the room, and she moved her den to the living room during the day when it was light. She closed up her room and blocked the door with the couch and coffee table. There were more knocks on the door, and she planned to ignore them except now there were voices.

"Is anyone home in there? This is the police."

Bonnie gulped, covered her mouth to suppress a shriek, and waited.

"Mrs. Sulcoski?" the voice called again. Bonnie could hear the officer talking to someone else. It sounded like her upstairs neighbour. She pulled the blanket that covered her fort down over the doorway and shut the lamp off.

The police took the door off the hinges and came it.

"Jesus!" one of them swore. "It smells bad in here."

"Dead body," said another.

The neighbour started muttering that she knew it, she knew it, and one of the officers advised her to stay well back, maybe to head back to her own apartment upstairs and let them handle it.

Bonnie kept as quiet as possible and pictured in her head what the police officers, there were just two right now, were doing, what rooms they were entering.

"Here," one said. "Help me move this."

She heard the scrape of the couch across the floor as they moved it out of the way and entered the bedroom.

"Oh, God."

"Okay, let's call for back up. There's someone in there, somewhere."

"Look at this place. What happened?"

"Let's just get back up."

Bonnie squeaked then. She could not help herself. Soon the place would be filled with officers and other people, and someone would call her mother or try and everything would be over.

"What was that?"

"Over here."

And the blanket was flung back.

"Hey, kid," one of them said, but she backed away from his hand when he offered it. "It's okay. Are you Bonnie?"

She screamed at the top of her lungs. They both lunged at her and grabbed her, one by each side, and pulled her from her hiding space. They tried to comfort her, but she would not be comforted. She dragged her from the apartment and down to the waiting police car.