Trudy rarely drinks on workdays, but on the way to pick up Mercy from school, she stops at the beer store and picks up a six-pack. Jules is not returning her calls, and Tammy’s sudden departure has shaken Mercy. She is either hyper and crazy or sad and clingy. Trudy’s nerves are shot.
After feeding Mercy lunch, Trudy gets the shoebox full of Barbie dolls and clothes and puts it on the kitchen table, hoping she will play quietly for a while, but Mercy is wound up. She wants to play Jungle. Jungle, a game she plays at school with her new friends, is all she wants to play lately. It involves a lot of growling and running around on Mercy’s part and some hiding and dying on Trudy’s. But Trudy is not in the mood. She takes the lid off the shoebox and heads to the fridge to get a beer. Mercy, disappointed, flops down at the table and starts picking through the tiny dresses. Trudy quietly takes her leave, down the hall, around the corner into the living room. She sits just out of Mercy’s sightline.
She has not even taken a sip when the phone rings.
“Trudy?” Before she even says hello, someone is talking. “Trudy, it’s Darren. You better get down here.” Down where?
Mercy jumps around the corner and raises her two hands high above her head, making claws with her fingers. “RAHR! GRRRR!”
Trudy can’t hear what he is saying. Now Mercy is standing on the couch, roaring at the top of her lungs, and jumping on the cushions.
“Mercy, for the love of God. Please shut up. Just for a minute.”
“I will KILL you!”
“Honey, you won’t. Now please be quiet.”
“Yes I will. I will kill you and EAT YOU!” She leaps off the couch at Trudy and crash-lands in her lap, knocking the beer out of her hand. The bottle hits the wall. Beer sprays everywhere. Mercy takes off. Trudy leaps out of her chair, the phone still pressed against her ear, and glares after Mercy, who is racing up the stairs. She stops mid-flight, curls her hands into claws again, and growls in Trudy’s direction, “RAAHR! ”
“Sorry, Darren. Just a sec.” Trudy drops the phone, leaves it dangling from its cord, and runs to the bottom of the stairs. Hopping on one foot, she removes a slipper and pitches it as hard as she can up the stairs at Mercy, who is peering down at her from the top. The slipper bounces off a step and flops end over end back down to the bottom. Trudy picks it up, puts it on, and walks back over to the phone.
“Hi. Sorry. You were saying?”
“You better get down here, Trudy. To the ramp. I was driving back from town and it had already happened. The car is in the water. You better come.”