Knock Knock, Open Wide

by Neil Sharpson

Etain had never liked dogs, not even big, friendly dogs. “You have trouble trusting anything that loves you unconditionally,” Kate had once said, which was no less cruel for being true.

his eyes had the mad look of a man who has been touched by God or the bottle.

She would suffer anything, but not alone.

Oh, I’m going to fall for you, Betty thought to herself wearily. Fuck. I’m already in the air, plummeting down the side of the building.

As Kate had watched the gravediggers work, every shovelful of soil laid on the coffin had felt like it was being scooped off her own chest. As the mother was buried, the daughter was exhumed.

“You never mentioned you had a sister.” “I don’t,” said Ashling simply. “Now.” “Ah, love … I’m so sorry.” “It’s fine. It’s fine.” “No…” “It’s long enough ago that I can pretend it’s fine.”

Kate had already gone to bed, so Ashling felt safe crying quietly for a few moments. Then, she repaired herself, putting her expression back together and gathering up her scattered thoughts and emotions and replacing them seamlessly within her.

“Ash,” said Betty gently. “No one expects you to be over it.” “I do,” said Ashling with a touch of flint. “It’s been fourteen years, for Christ’s sake.” “She was your sister. I don’t think you get over that. But you don’t have to be … under it. Either. Do you know what I mean?”

Knock, knock, let us in! Puckeen, take us for a spin! Knock, knock, open wide! Take us to the other side!

“Never have children, Ashling. That was my mistake. Never have something that you can’t afford to lose.”

“The question, child, is what are you willing to do?” Mairéad asked. “To save Betty, what would you be willing to do?” “Anything,” Ashling said. And she knew it was true. “I’d die for her.” “Dying is easy,” Mairéad said dismissively. “What we are going to ask of you is so much harder than dying.” Ashling swallowed nervously. “What is it?” she asked. “The opposite.”