‘Kimmy, Mummy needs help.’

 

The words were at once panicked and weak.

 

‘Kimmy…’

 

The child dropped her teddy, walked to the kitchen door, and stood there, hesitant. Her mother’s legs protruded from behind the counter. Next to them, a thick red stain was inching its way across the linoleum. Her mother’s voice echoed across the room, quieter now.

‘Kimmy… call 999, ok? Just like we practiced.’

 

‘Mummy…’

 

‘Call 999, ok? The phone… in the hallway…’

 

Transfixed for a moment, the child stared. Then she turned and toddled into the hall, where the phone sat sleeping in its cradle. On tiptoes, small fingers reached up, sliding the machine by degrees until it fell from its perch and hit the carpet.

 

Kimmy pressed the numbers, one by one, three beeps in a row.

 

9 – 9 – 9

 

Something else. Kimmy thought for a moment and then pressed Send. She looked at the phone; she liked it and was glad she could press the buttons. Maybe later, she’d press some more of them.

 

A voice was talking. Kimmy held the phone to her ear like she’d seen Mummy and Daddy do.

 

‘Hello? What service do you require?

 

‘Mummy’s hurt,’ the child said. ‘She told me to call the phone. Press the numbers.’

 

The voice was smaller than Kimmy had expected.

 

‘Do you know your address, sweetie? Where do you live?’

 

Kimmy didn’t know.

 

‘That’s ok. You’re doing great. Stay on the line for me, ok? I’ll trace your location and send the ambulance straight away.’

 

‘Am-ber-lance,’ Kimmy said.

 

‘That’s right, honey. Do you know what happened to Mummy?’

 

‘Bright red. Kitchen.’

 

‘Ok. There’s help on the way, ok…’

 

The phone dropped to the carpet once more. Kimmy padded to the kitchen door and stood there, staring.

 

‘Sweetie, are you there?’ the voice said.

 

###

 

Kimmy fidgeted on the couch, sandwiched between her parents, bright lights beating down upon her. The yellow material was scratchy on her legs, and she squirmed, despite the less and less gentle hands of her parents holding her in place. The adults were talking, boring things. She wanted to get down and play.

 

Someone said a question. The pretty lady Mummy said was from the TV. Kimmy didn’t know what to say. The adults were laughing, and a lot of people were staring at her. She pressed her face into her mother’s side.

 

‘She’s shy,’ Kimmy heard her mother say, and then Mummy was telling the story again about how she got to use the phone. She’d asked to use it again and had been given a bright yellow one, but it wasn’t the same. Kimmy was smart. She knew it wasn’t a real phone.

 

Daddy was also helping Mummy tell the story, even though he hadn’t been there.

 

‘I used the phone to call the… am-ber… am-ber-lance,’ Kimmy blurted.

 

‘That’s right, sweetie,’ the woman said. ‘You let the paramedics in. You saved Mummy’s life.’

 

Kimmy didn’t understand. Mummy was always around. But she did like it when people started clapping and telling her how brave she was. The adults talked a lot, and Kimmy sometimes said things and people would laugh or smile. Then they brought a big basket full of toys and placed it in front of her.

 

‘This is from NDT News to you, Kimmy. For being so brave.’

 

Kimmy leapt down from the couch and tore at the wrapper, grabbing at a large pink bunny inside, before her parents pulled her away. Daddy handed her the bunny.

 

‘You can open the rest at home, sweetie, ok?’

 

He said it like a question, but Kimmy could tell it wasn’t a question, so she cuddled her bunny and waited for the adults to finish talking so she could play.

 

The next few days were very exciting. Daddy was doing most of the things at the house while Mummy got better, so Kimmy and Mummy watched a bunch of movies together on the couch. People kept coming around to tell Kimmy how good she was and how brave she was, and when they did that, she felt good. And sometimes they’d bring presents too.

 

But after a few days, Daddy went back to work, and Mummy said she felt better and was doing things in the house again. The house was quiet, and no one came to talk to Kimmy and tell her how brave she was. Kimmy played with her new toys, but she missed all the people, and didn’t know how to make them come back. So, she decided to think really hard like the magic unicorns on TV, and maybe she would get an idea.

 

‘Oh hi, love,’ Mummy said, hearing her footsteps pad through the doorway. Mummy was on her knees in front of the oven, holding a dirty brush. Her faded apron was splotched with grease. ‘Have you been having fun playing?’

 

Kimmy shook her head.

 

‘Well, I’m just finishing off the oven, and then maybe we can do some painting. Would that be ok?’

 

Mummy looked funny in her bright yellow gloves. A piece of dirt streaked across one cheek.

‘Ok,’ Kimmy said.

 

Mummy turned and put her head back in the oven, and the sound of scrubbing returned. Kimmy thought about how much fun she’d had when the people had been around. She climbed up onto one of the big chairs and reached across the countertop, her hand stretching as far as it could. Finally, she grasped it.

 

‘Kimmy,’ her mother’s voice echoed from the oven. ‘What are you doing?’

 

‘I want to see the people again, Mummy.’

 

‘What people, sweetie?’ Mummy sounded distant.

 

‘I know how to make them come back now. And don’t worry, I know how to use the phone too, just like before.’ Kimmy climbed down from the chair, her hand tightening around the handle of the knife as she stepped towards her mother, whose yellow top reminded her a lot of the yellow couch from TV.

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Richard A Shury recently returned to New Zealand after haunting London for many years. He has had a few pieces published, including in DreamForge Magazine, The Drabble, Gotham Writers, and Corona Horror Stories. His first love is sci-fi, but he dabbles in all sorts of areas. https://richardshury.wixsite.com/rashury