“She knows our minds,” Diamanda said.
“Even so,” Joephi replied. “
“Now, let’s remember,” said Diamanda, “we’re here to do one thing and one thing only. We get our business done and then we leave. Remember:
Life is short,
And pleasures few,
And holed the ship,
And drowned the crew,
But o! But o!
How very blue
The sea is
The last poem written by Righteous Bandy, the nomad Poet of Abarat
1. Room Nineteen
The project Miss Schwartz had set for Candy’s class was simple enough. Everyone had a week to bring into school ten interesting facts about the town in which they all lived. Something about the history of Chickentown would be fine, she said, or, if students preferred, facts about the way the town was today, which meant, of course, the same old stuff about chicken farming in modern Minnesota.
Candy had done her best. She’d visited the school library and scoured its shelves for something,
Melissa Quackenbush was in the kitchen, making meatloaf. The kitchen door was closed, so as not to disturb Candy’s father, Bill. He was in a beer-induced slumber in front of the television, and Candy’s mother wanted to keep it that way. The longer he stayed unconscious, the easier it was for everyone in the house—including Candy’s brothers, Don and Ricky—to get on with their lives. Nobody ever mentioned this aloud. It was a silent understanding between the members of the household. Life was more pleasant for everyone when Bill Quackenbush was asleep.
“Why do you say it’s
“I know what you want for your project,” she said.
“Oh?” said Candy, going to the fridge and taking out a soda. “What do I want?”
“You want something weird,” Melissa said, putting the meat into the baking tin and thumbing it down. “You’ve got a little morbid streak in you, just like your grandma Frances. She used to go to the funerals of complete strangers—”