Raising Demons by Shirley Jackson Page A

minute.
    â€œDaddy would
like
—” I was going on maliciously when the back door opened gently and Jannie said, “Can I change to a dress?”
    â€œGood morning, dear,” I said.
    â€œGood morning. Can I? My white sundress? You didn’t wake up this morning, did you?”
    â€œJan, later Daddy will take us swimming, Daddy.”
    â€œCan I change to my bathing suit?” Jannie switched smoothly. “Can I change to my blue bathing suit?” She was wearing a pair of shorts and a blouse which she dearly loved but which was so small for her that she could only button the top button, and it left a two-inch gap over the top of her shorts. “So I’ll be all ready when we go swimming?”
    â€œCan
I
wear a dress, dress?
Can
I?”
    â€œNo,” I said. “Later. No.”
    â€œCan I anyway go barefoot?”
    â€œCan I, barefoot?”
    â€œYou’re already barefoot,” I said, puzzled.
    â€œBut you weren’t awake so we could ask, so I thought,” Jannie said judiciously, “that I had better ask
now.
”
    â€œYou may go barefoot,” I said.
    â€œThank you,” Jannie said. “May I change to my bathing suit?”
    â€œ
I
had breakfast at Amy’s,” Sally said. “Ha-ha.”
    â€œHa-ha,” Jannie said. “
I
had breakfast at Laura’s.”
    â€œHorrible,” my husband said. “Way to bring up children,” he explained to his coffee cup.
    â€œAnd Daddy will get you each an ice-cream cone,” I said to Jannie and Sally.
    Sally nodded approvingly. “But furstaneta finish my cereal,” she said. “Furstaneta” translates precisely as “First I need to,” and it precedes most of Sally’s important actions; in this case, tipping her bowl of cereal onto the floor.
    â€œBring up children,” my husband said.
    There was a scratching at the back screen and Toby put his head in and looked around at us. Almost immediately there was the crash of Laurie’s bike hitting the ground outside. “Daddy will take you swimming, too,” Sally told Laurie, as he came through the door.
    â€œNot me, kiddie,” Laurie said blandly, relieving Jannie of the piece of bread she was covering with mayonnaise as he went past, and leaving her gazing astonished from the jar of mayonnaise to her empty hand. “Me, I’m on Popeye this aft.”
    â€œDon’t come any closer till I finish my coffee,” his father said.
    â€œBuddy’s gone lame,” Laurie told his father.
    â€œIf his shoes are too tight tell him I’ll take them,” my husband said.
    â€œHorses don’t get lame from tight shoes, bud,” Laurie said. “How about some food?” he asked me.
    Slinging one leg over the seat of his chair, he pulled the jar of mayonnaise toward him. “Jerry says,” he told Jannie, “that kid sisters are only good to have if they’re sixteen years old and have no big brothers.”
    â€œLaurie,” I said, “that is hardly the way—”
    â€œTo address your ever-loving family,” Laurie said. “Jerry says,” he went on, “you got to have families, because otherwise where would you borrow money?”
    â€œGood lord,” my husband said, just as Jannie put in suddenly, “Mommy, where am I?”
    â€œSitting at the kitchen table,” I said. “Why?”
    â€œI just all of a sudden couldn’t remember how I got here,” Jannie said, looking around at all our startled faces. “I don’t remember
any
thing.”
    My husband and I stared at each other. “Jannie,” he said, “tell us what happened.”
    â€œI fell, I
believe
,” Jannie said. “I believe I fell.”
    â€œWhere did you hit yourself?” I asked.
    â€œDown on the woodpile,” Sally said. “Jannie fell off the woodpile, Jannie.”
    â€œDid you?” I asked.