“Daisy prefers her meals raw,” Amman said. “And alive.” He chuckled.
“I expect Daisy will make an exception this time,” Avni said. “But you’ll have to carry the body down to the basement, unless you were to roll it down the stairs.”
“I got him in the boiler, didn’t I? I can manage. I’m not so frail as you seem to think.”
Avni forced a smile. “I know.”
Amman stepped closer. He was wearing his lab smock. As clean, white and crisp as the walls. Still the scientist, Avni thought. He dragged his right leg after his left. The empty right sleeve of the smock dangled. Amman had once been so tall. Now he stood shorter than Avni herself. Stood? No, that wasn’t the proper word. You couldn’t give an accurate description of a man’s height when he looked like Amman, bent to the side at an almost perfect right angle. It still amazed Avni that he could walk at all, with his center of gravity so skewed. How did he even keep his balance?
*Because he is strong.* Yes. Her son, his spirit was pure iron. Still. Even if his mind had been broken by his sufferings. No man could live through what Amman had lived through and not bear some psychological damage. But the damage to his mind, like everything else, could be fixed. Given time.
Amman reached out with his hand, his remaining hand, and took hers.
“My magnificent boy,” Avni said.
“Mother, I believe I will have peanut butter and jelly for supper.”
Amman was wearing the mask she’d made for him. Cut from an old terrycloth bathrobe of hers. Not that she minded seeing his face, his once beautiful, handsome face. But Avni knew he wore the hood out of consideration. She would never ask him to take it off. Not even when she wanted to give him a kiss, as she did now. Avni would like nothing better sometimes than to give her son a kiss on the cheek. The one cheek that was still there.
“You know what?” Avni said. “I’ll help you carry the body down to the basement, and then I’ll make you your peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”
“With milk?” Amman asked.
“Yes, of course. With milk.”
“And can Daisy have some milk, too?” he asked. “To drink while she’s eating Dr. Northcliffe?”
“If it will make you happy,” Avni said, “Daisy can have anything she wants.”
