Stained
“Janey, go get me some towels please,” Mommy said. Janey stood in the doorway, switching weight from foot to foot and staring at her. Mommy was kneeling on the floor by the rickety coffee table, her back to the door. She looked as if she was about to scrub a stain, maybe grape juice, from the carpet. Then she turned and looked over her shoulder, frowning. “Honey, what did I tell you? Go, quick, before this stains.” Janey hesitated for another moment, putting her thumb in her mouth before turning slowly and slinking from the room. The hall was dark; all the shades were drawn even though it was daytime. Janey went up the steps, putting her hands on the step in front of her so it appeared she was walking on all fours.
“Grape juice stains,” Janey murmured in perfect tempo with her upward motion. *Red grape juice especially* she thought. Janey shuddered, opening the closet door slowly. A pile of towels toppled down from the shelf, tipping the vacuum cleaner over witha bang. Janey jumped and closed her eyes tight. That was a mistake. Grape juice stained the backs of her eyelids. Her eyes flew open. She picked up as many towels as would fit in her little arms. “Towels to stop the mess from staining,” she whispered. Janey went back downstairs, back to the living room with the rickety coffee table. Mommy was still there, kneeling with her back to the door. Janey held out a towel.
“Good girl. Maybe we can get it before it stains,” she murmured, turning to smile. Janey’s mind frayed around the edges at the sight of Mommy’s face. Dark juice was there too. *Could Mommy’s face stain?* Janey shuddered. Mommy began to scrub, ‘putting her back into it.’ “I think we got it in time baby. No stains on the carpet.” Janey nodded, looking around the room. What about the couch? She thought. *What about the coffee table? What about the wall? What about the ceiling?* The dark juice was everywhere, even on Janey’s new shoes. Her brand new white Keds. They would stain, just like Daddy. His new work shirt dark, wet… ruined. They would stain like the knees of Mommy’s jeans. They would stain like her eyelids. Mommy stood slowly, clutching the towels to her chest. She moved, in a daze, toward the door.
“Come on Janey, let’s wash these towels before they stain,” Mommy said. Janey looked at Daddy, lying in the midst of the dark stain. The stain seemed to swell and spread. It engulfed her mind.
“OK,” she whispered, reaching out and taking Mommy’s hand; the juice was redder there, and it had stained.
