Vanishing and Other Stories Read Free Page B

hadn’t ventured into the attic at all.
    But that Friday evening, she silently climbed the steps after dinner. What drew her there was the look on his face when he’d stood and left the table in the middle of the meal. The defeated way he’d said, “I’ve got work to see to.”
    After Lev and Sofia went home, and while Marlene changed out of the blouse and green skirt she wore for company, Tabitha opened the hatch and pulled herself up, edging along the dusty floor until she slid into the office.
    Nathan hadn’t heard her come in—or if he had, he didn’t find her presence important. He sat at his desk, facing away from her, and she stared at the back of his neck. He didn’t turn to her or clear the stack of books from the chair. There was a blank sheet of paper rolled into the typewriter, so white it glowed under the lamp. He stared out the window, not even attempting to punch the keys.
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    BEA PASSES AWAY SUDDENLY , and Tabitha flies home to help Marlene with the details: obituary, casket, stone. Maybe it comes from age, or from living with a sister for decades, but Marlene has lost any sense of propriety. She rinses dishes instead of washing them with soap, and forgets to close the door when she pees.
    After sitting shiva, they give Bea’s clothes and her cribbage board to the Goodwill. Then they pack Marlene’s dishes and thecanned goods she stockpiles—
might as well buy lots when they’re on sale
—so Marlene can move to a smaller place. As Tabitha fills a box with her mother’s old records, she finds the Elvis. He’s at the back of Marlene’s closet, looking out like a ghost. He smells of mothballs, and his slim ceramic nose has broken off. Still, there’s something about him. He’s as strange and charming as ever.
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    TABITHA STRETCHED UP on the tips of her toes and her head nearly touched the attic’s ceiling. She wanted, like her father, to see out the window. When she did this, the light must have changed, or the floorboards shifted, because he turned around. His wooden chair squeaked as it swivelled. “What are you doing here, Tabitha?” He was the only one, then, who called her by her full name.
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œHave they gone?”
    She nodded. “I’m supposed to be helping with the dishes.”
    â€œI shouldn’t have left the table like that. Tell your mother I’m sorry.”
    When she wasn’t reading the lines he gave her, she didn’t know how to talk to him, so she said the only thing that came into her head. “Wasn’t Lev’s fiancée pretty? Like a movie star?”
    â€œPrettier,” he said quietly. “Because it’s real life.”
    Tabitha nodded and looked toward his desk. The typewriter, the blank sheet of paper.
    â€œDid you know I haven’t written anything in nearly a year?” He spoke as though it were a statistic, a fact that piqued his interest.
    She shook her head. She understood exactly what this meant: that he wouldn’t need her anymore, that there was no reason for her to be in the attic. That the chair was no longer hers.
    â€œBut that’s a secret.” He raised one eyebrow, an exaggerated expression that reminded her of when he would read bedtime stories. When he terrified her, doing all the voices. “Can you keep a secret?”
    She heard Marlene in the kitchen, running water for the dishes. Tabitha had a few minutes before her mother needed her to dry. “Sometimes.”
    â€œThat’s a truthful answer.” He leaned back in his chair. “Of course, I’ve written reviews and letters and things. But I haven’t really written.”
    There was the sound of Marlene opening and closing a cupboard. “I should go down soon,” said Tabitha. “She wouldn’t want me here.”
    â€œYour mother is a very sweet person,” he said. “I think that’s