"When is the blood-bool coming?" she asked. "Tell me that."
There was no answer. She knew there would be no answer, and still her frustration grew, filling the place where her terror and her perplexity had been before the sun peeped over the horizon, casting its dispelling rays.
"When is it coming? Damn you, when?" She was shouting now, and shaking the whitenightgowned shoulder hard enough to make the hair flop...and still no answer. Lisey's fury broke. "Don't tease me like that, Scott, when?"
This time she yanked on the nightgowned shoulder instead of just shaking, and the other body on the bed rolled limply over. It was Amanda, of course. Her eyes were open and she still breathed, there was even some dull color in her cheeks, but Lisey recognized that thousand-yard stare from big sissa Manda-Bunny's other breaks with reality. And not only hers. Lisey no longer had any idea if Scott had actually come to her or if she had only been fooling herself while in a semi-waking state, but of one thing she was quite sure: at some point during the night, Amanda had gone away again. This time maybe for good.
Part 2: Sowisa
"She turned, and saw a great white moon looking at her over the hill. And her breast opened to it, she was cleaved like a transparent jewel to its light. She stood filled with the full moon, offering herself. Her two br**sts opened to make way for it, her body opened wide like a quivering anemone, a soft, dilated invitation touched by the moon."
- D. H. Lawrence, The Rainbow
Chapter 8
V. Lisey and The Long, Long Thursday (Stations of the Bool)
1
It didn't take Lisey long to realize this was far worse than Amanda's three previous breaks with reality - her periods of "passive semi-catatonia," to use the shrink's phrase. It was as if her usually irritating and sometimes troublesome sister had become a large breathing doll. Lisey managed (with considerable effort) to tug Amanda into a sitting position and swivel her around so she was sitting on the edge of the bed, but the woman in the white cotton nightgown - who might or might not have spoken in the voice of Lisey's dead husband a few moments before dawn - would not respond to her name when it was spoken, or called, or shouted, almost desperately, into her face. She only sat with her hands in her lap, looking fixedly at her younger sister. And when Lisey stepped away, Amanda looked fixedly into the space where she had been.
Lisey went into the bathroom to wet a cloth with cold water, and when she came back, Amanda had subsided into a prone position again with her upper half on the bed and her feet on the floor. Lisey began to pull her back up, then stopped when Amanda's bu**ocks, already close to the bed's edge, began to slide. If she persisted, Amanda would end up on the floor.
"Manda-Bunny!"
No response to the childhood nickname this time. Lisey decided to go whole hog.
"Big sissa Manda-Bunny!"
Nothing. Instead of being frightened (that would come shortly), Lisey was swept by the sort of rage Amanda had hardly ever been able to provoke in her younger sister when she had actually tried.
"Stop this! Stop it and scoot your ass back on the bed so you can sit up!"
Zip. Zero. She bent, wiped Amanda's expressionless face with the cold washcloth, and got more nothing. The eyes didn't blink even when the washcloth passed over them. Now Lisey did begin to be scared. She looked at the digital clock-radio beside the bed and saw it had just gone six. She could call Darla with no worries of waking Matt, who would be sleeping the sleep of the just up in Montreal, but she didn't want to do that. Not yet. Calling Darla would be the same as admitting defeat, and she wasn't ready to do that. She circled the bed, grabbed Amanda under the armpits, and hauled her backward. It was harder to do than she expected, given Amanda's scrawny bod.
Because she's dead weight now, babyluv. That's why.
"Shut up," she said, with no idea who she was talking to. "Just shut it."
She got on the bed herself with her knees on either side of Amanda's thighs and her hands planted on either side of Amanda's neck. In this position, that of the lover superior, she could look directly down into her sister's upturned, staring face. During Manda's previous breaks, she had been biddable...almost the way a person under hypnosis is biddable, Lisey had thought at the time. This seemed very different. She could only hope it wasn't, because there were certain things a person had to do in the morning. If, that was, the person wanted to go on living a private life in her little Cape Cod home.