Yo-yo's Weekend

by David Brining

  28.

  Third Night

  IT'S 02:28 and, for the first time in months, Yo-yo does not wake up. His lion-paw slippers, so used to prowling around COZEE NOOK in the small hours, snooze undisturbed on the bedside rug. The lumpy furniture, cheap, battered wardrobe and gloomy curtains don't feel so oppressive on this third and last night. His mother has made a tremendous fuss. As he'd sat in the bathtub, she'd sat on the edge and they'd chatted and laughed.

  ''What was this I saw in the paper?'' Venus had smiled. ''The Mystery Streaker?''

  Yo-yo laughed. ''I had to hide in a bush and get some clothes off a boy. He thought I was God.'' He laughed again. ''He got ducked in the river.'' He turned his head. ''How did you know it was me?''

  Venus rubbed shampoo into his scalp. ''I'm your mother. I'd recognise those buttocks anywhere.'' He felt his face redden. ''You need a haircut,'' she added. ''It's beginning to get curly again.''

  ''I had one,'' said Yo-yo, ''At Jax Hair Design. He gave me blonde bunches. It was my plan to dress up as a girl and fool Mister Vanilla. The ghosts helped me.''

  ''Ghosts?'' said Venus tipping a bowl of bathwater over his head.

  ''I made friends with the ghosts,'' said Yo-yo, blinking as watery shampoo ran over his face. ''The Earl of Northumberland was really miserable but his head's in Holy Trinity and his body's at Fountains Abbey and you wouldn't wish that on your worst enemy, would you?''

  ''No,'' smiled Venus, pouring more warm water over her son.

  ''And I went to the circus and met the clowns and a human cannonball called Catkin Silver who swore a lot,'' Yo-yo continued, ''And a woman called Rue whose body I painted. She bought me coffee and cakes in Bettys. And then,'' He lifts his arm so his mother can soap it, ''There was Jocko McTavish. He sold me some bagpipes.''

  ''Great,'' said Venus. ''I guess you'll be practising. That'll drive your father nuts.''

  ''Then I had a fight with Death. He was going to cut my throat with a sickle but I got away in a time-car. Mister Vanilla chased me round the walls on a tiny kid's bike.'' Venus sponges the soap off his arm. ''I had a penny farthing, and King Richard III made him fall off.''

  Venus smiled tenderly and touched the emerald jewel in the ring on the chain round her son's neck. ''Poor Vanilla.''

  ''He got eaten by a lion,'' said Yo-yo, ''Called Brian.'' He jerked his head at his mother. ''Tell me about Vanilla in the old days. What did he do? What did you do?''

  ''It's a long story,'' murmured Venus, ''And you were there, but you don't remember.'' She stilled his protest. ''Another time,'' said his mother. ''The water's gone cold.'' She splashed some into his face. ''Get out now and I'll dry you off.''

  ''Mum …'' said Yo-yo, ''I'm nearly fourteen!''

  The plastic duck quacked his amusement.

  ''You're still my son.'' So Yo-yo stood on the fluffy, white bathmat while his mother towelled his hair dry. They laughed as she made it stand up like a cock's comb, and hugged each other. Then he had lifted his arms and his mother had dropped his nightshirt over his body. She kissed him on the cheek and made him warm milk and tucked him up in bed with another kiss and a mutually murmured 'I love you'.

  Because he is sleeping, he will not know that the toilet is empty, that Eleazar Glenn is absent tonight. Nor will he notice that, down in the living room, three china figurines are having a party. Sylvain and Aureole are due to be married and will raise their child in the grandfather's house. They have sold the dog.

  The COZEE NOOK is peaceful and quiet. In Lollipop's room, her baby gurgles. Ruff the bear has disappeared and Lily Gusset sleeps, thumb in mouth. Through the keyhole, if he were awake, he would see

  a pink

  bedroom

  with posters of ponies

  and Justin Bieber

  and

  a pink hairbrush

  and glossy pink nail lacquer

  and a small television and VCR

  and teddies and ponies and Barbie and Ken

  and lions and tigers and bears, oh my,

  and Lily Gusset, eleven years old, peacefully sleeping

  and dreaming of Catkin Silver the ex-teenage cannonball

  The city is sleeping, the Green is grey. There is nobody out there. The sky is empty. Yo-yo murmurs something, lost in sleep, and rolls onto his side. The lion's paw slippers wait for the end.