ओह! यह छवि हमारे सामग्री दिशानिर्देशों का पालन नहीं करती है। प्रकाशन जारी रखने के लिए, कृपया इसे हटा दें या कोई भिन्न छवि अपलोड करें।
THE AFTERNOON SUN blazes through the kitchen window as Judy sits cross-legged on the counter, scoffing down her third bowl of cereal of the day. It seems it's all she can stomach, but at the same time, she's stomaching it too much. Stuffing her face with something so convenient and close at hand seems to be comforting her while she's grieving the loss of her big brother.
Since she'd been discharged from the hospital, she's had an insatiable craving for peanut butter Cap'N Crunch. Perhaps she just likes the taste, or perhaps it's because it was John B's favourite. Either way, she can't stop consuming it, most of the time with tears and snot running down her face. But today she's managing to maintain some sort of stable composure, knowing she'll be seeing her favourite people very soon.
The floorboards creak as Shoupe trundles into the room, clad from head to toe in a formal black uniform with a champagne coloured tie, while cradling a brown and gold-lined hat. All ready for Peterkin's funeral. Sighing, he looks at the reflection of himself in the silver, wall-mounted oven and pats down his precisely styled grey hair.
"How do I look?"
Chewing slowly, Judy glances over in his direction, her face void of any expression whatsoever. Sure, she's grateful that he saved her ass from going into foster care, but it doesn't mean she likes him. At the end of the day, he doesn't believe her word over Ward Cameron's. So why should she be gracious to him?
When she doesn't respond, he scratches his moustache and quietly slides the hat onto his head. "What would 'ya like for dinner tonight?"
"Nothin'." She clips, wading the milk back and forth with the tip of her spoon. "I'm not hungry."
A little ironic, considering he's just walked in on her devouring his breakfast cupboard. But he lets it slide.
And instead, he fishes out a crumpled $20 note, sliding it across to her. "Incase you wanna order yourself a pizza or somethin'."
She acknowledges it, but doesn't thank him.
It is the sound of a bike engine pulling up outside that finally puts a smile on her face. Ditching the bowl and spoon by the sink, she leaps down onto her feet, ready to make a beeline for the front door.
"Hold it!" Shoupe halts her in her tracks, and when she turns around, he's pointing to the freshly popped pills. "Take 'em now, before you go. It's important, Judy."
