Caul Baby by Morgan Jerkins (read any book .TXT) 📕

Josephine swung the pitcher at the back of Iris’s head, and Hallow screamed. Landon ran over to shield Hallow, but she pushed him away, screaming and crying until he had no choice but to put her over his shoulder. She beat her fists on his back, begging for him to let her go, as Helena casually carried her plate into the kitchen to rinse and place in the dishwasher.

Josephine stood over Iris’s body, breathing heavily and shaking as Iris’s gray hair gradually became a sea of red and the glass shards embedded in parts of her head glimmered in the light. Moments later, Maman dashed into the room and saw an unconscious Iris on the ground and Josephine shuddering in the corner.

“Now I see who you really are without all that makeup.” Maman smirked. Impressed, she placed a hand on her hip, tucked her upper lip into her mouth, and nodded. “Drag her into the corridor and bring me my utility knife.”

9

Hallow was inconsolable and would not stop screaming. She planted her face in the mound of Josephine’s bedsheets and would not turn to face Landon, no matter how much he nudged and pulled at her shoulders. She would lift her head to catch her breath and stick her head back down to scream into the sheets. Landon looked toward the bedroom door, where Josephine was leaning against the hinges, her sister’s dried blood crusting underneath her fingernails.

“Josephine!” Maman called from downstairs. “Bring her downstairs! I’m ready to start.” A one-two sharpening sound of some metal succeeded her last words.

“Jo—” Landon said.

“Just give me a minute, okay?” Josephine shut the door and pressed her back up against it. “I just . . . I’m trying to catch my breath, and Hallow is scared.”

“But you don’t want to piss Maman off.”

“You know something? Sometimes I wonder if you have less of a backbone than I do.”

Josephine walked toward her bed and knelt down close to the side where Hallow was curled into the fetal position.

“Hallow, baby. It’s Mommy. Hallow, baby, can you hear me? I need you to come downstairs with me. Maman wants us. Hallow, baby?” She extended her arms toward Hallow and retracted them as soon as she saw the hills and valleys of blood. She wiped them on her blouse and held Hallow up to face her. Hallow’s face was red and her eyes swollen from all of the crying. Josephine waited for Hallow’s cries to simmer down to whimpers and picked her up. “Just hold on to me,” Josephine whispered in Hallow’s ear as her face rested on her chest. “It’ll all be over soon.” Landon followed behind with his hand on the small of Josephine’s back, and offered Hallow a small smile whenever she looked up at him as they made their way down to the foyer.

“Iris, wake up now,” Josephine said. “Iris, this isn’t funny. I know you’re fine. Get up.”

Iris wouldn’t move.

“Forget about it. It’s better if she doesn’t move anyway. Let her stay there.”

“Maman . . .” Josephine leaned forward toward her and said more quietly, “I thought we had an understanding.”

“We did. Nothing happens off your watch, and it’s not.”

“But I told you not to do that to her again.”

“You told me not to put her on display, and I’m not. I am, however, teaching her how to cut since she’ll need to do it when she’s older. Besides, I’m sparing Hallow from being cut for the next time we have a client and having Iris go this time since she’s already lying flat.”

“But don’t you see Hallow’s scared? Enough, Maman, okay? Enough!”

“Her fear was not some prerequisite that we agreed upon. Don’t forget who makes executive decisions around here. Now move.” She brushed past Josephine’s shoulder, which sent her daughter’s balance off-kilter.

“Dexter-Russell,” Maman said as she waved an eight-inch butcher knife in the air. “The polypropylene handle makes it easy for anyone to use, dexterous or not. Pull up a chair. The both of you.”

“No, I’ll stand,” Landon replied. Josephine tightly closed her eyes and pursed her lips but did not give him the satisfaction of showing him how annoyed she was with a cutting glance.

“Fine. Jo, take my seat, and Hallow, you take this seat.”

“Maman, she wants to stick by me. She’s scared.” Josephine pressed a hand to the side of Hallow’s face and pulled her in closer to her chest.

“Both of you are being extremely difficult when it was not I who soiled my Persian rug. But fine. Whatever.” Maman stood over Iris, who was now lying on many plastic sheets, and held her knife up to the light. “Like I was saying, the grip of this Dexter-Russell knife is important. This is how you make the most precise cuts. The pointed steel blade. The straight edge. Are you listening to me?”

“Maman, I know what you’re talking about already,” Josephine said.

“I’m not talking to you, you idiot. I’m talking to Hallow.”

Hallow lifted her head and wiped her eyes. She looked down at Iris, who was seemingly still unconscious, with small shards sticking from the sides of her head, and asked, “When will she wake up?”

“She’s up. She’s just jerking your chain, being extra as usual. Think about what happened when I burned your finger and when Helena pushed you down the stairs and you broke your bones. You got better, didn’t you?”

Hallow nodded.

“Same goes for Iris.”

“But—”

“But nothing. I could jam this knife in your chest right now, and before you know it, that gash would seal itself and you wouldn’t even see a faint hint of a line down your sternum. But if I did the same to ol’ lover boy over here . . .” She made a stabbing motion in his direction, causing him to flinch. “Heh. He’d die of shock before the ambulance even got here. Look at her chest, Hallow. You see it rising and falling? She’s not dead.”

Hallow leaned over to get a closer look at Iris, and when she saw that her chest rose and