Stitching and Loosening

 

“‘I SHALL SEW IT on for you, my little man,’ she said, though he was tall as herself, and she got out her sewing bag, and sewed the shadow on to Peter’s foot.”

Mom had found an old copy of Peter Pan on one of Grandma Sissy’s bookshelves, and she was reading it aloud to Rex while he practiced jacks on the floor. Georgie, perched again on Grandma Sissy’s lap, watched the bouncing ball with interest. At the table, Odette and Dad were playing solitaire together, a “contradiction in terms,” he said, but much more fun than playing alone.

Mom read on: “‘I daresay it will hurt a little,’ she warned him.

“‘Oh, I shan’t cry,’ said Peter, who was already of the opinion that he had never cried in his life. And he clenched his teeth and did not cry, and soon his shadow was behaving properly, though still a little creased.”

Grandma Sissy opened her eyes. “That’s a funny bit,” she said. “About the shadow.”

“I like that part,” said Rex. “It’s my favorite.”

“Mine too,” said Grandma Sissy. “It reminds me of me. Except instead of sewing my shadow on, I’m pulling at the threads that hold my soul to my body.”

None of them knew what to say to that. Mom closed the book and reached over to hold Rex’s hand. Dad mislaid a card in the game, and Odette didn’t have the heart to point out his mistake.

Then Rex said, “Well, it’s your soul, after all. Why shouldn’t you untie it, if it’s ready to go free?”

Grandma Sissy smiled. “Wisely spoken,” she said, and then she closed her eyes.