her, the more she resented her. Betsy harbored all
sorts of ridiculous suspicions. I thought.
"I know exactly what your mother's up to," she
told me one afternoon after she had just had another
argument with her father and Mama had interceded on
her behalf .She came charging out of the house and
found me stacking some kindling wood.
"What are you talking about now?" I took off
my gloves and wiped the sweat off the back of my
neck.
"I'm talking about how she makes herself look
so good and pure to my father just so hell hate me
more "
"That's not true. She's just trying to keep him
from getting sick over the things you do." I put my
gloves back on.
"Oh. brother. You'd defend her no matter what.
You know what?" she said, with her eyes as mean and
cold as she could make them. I turned my back on her
and started on the wood again, but she seized my
shoulder to spin me around. "I said, you know what?" "What?"
"People don't just think you're weird or gay.
They think you and your mother have an unnatural
relationship."
I wanted to reach out and slap her because it was as if she had just slapped me. I couldn't help the
rush of blood to my face. It brought a smile to hers. "Did I hit a sensitive area. Noble man? Is there
some truth to the rumors? Maybe Daddy wouldn't be
so devoted to your mother if he 'clew, huh?" "Shut up," I snapped, and with the small hatchet
in my hand I started toward her with such fury that
she backed away,
"Don't you touch me. Don't you even think of
it," she warned, but for the first time, from behind a
cracked wall. "That's all you have to do. I'll make up
stories about you," she threatened. "I will. I'll tell
everyone you tried to rape me or something." I shook my head and retreated. It restored her
courage, so she stepped toward me again.
"You know. Elliot told me about the time he let
you spy on me."
The blood that had risen to my face dropped to
my feet. I kept my back to her.
"He brought you into his room and let you look
through that hole in his wall. Go on, try to deny it. I'd
like to hear what you say."
I continued to stack the wood. I'll do what she
does. I thought. Ill pretend she's not there. pretend I
don't hear her.
"I didn't care. I was actually flattered. Did you
get a good eyeful? Did it make you excited? Did you
fantasize about me and play with yourself? I like to
think a lot of boys did and still do. Was I your first
naked girl? What's the matter, the cat got your fat
tongue? You're not so brave now, are you? Does your
precious mother, who thinks you're so perfect, know
about all that?"
Whatever angle I turned, she moved to stand in
front of me. "Leave me alone," I said, practically
begged. Her smile widened,
"You can't believe he told me. huh? He did it to
get even with me for something, and I surprised him
by not getting angry about it Who do you think is
prettier, me or your mother?"
"That's a really stupid question."
"Oh, is that so? Why is it stupid? Because you
can't appreciate any other woman? Is that the reason?" "No!" I screamed at her. "1 can't!"
She looked shocked. I hadn't meant to say that
like that and she could never understand what it was I
was saying anyway. How could she understand why I
couldn't appreciate any other woman the way she
expected I should?
"You are sick," she said, wagging her head and stepping back. "I'm getting out of here soon, getting away from all of you. You'll see. You'll all see and you can have Daddy to yourselves." She turned and
marched back to the house.
Good riddance. I thought. The sooner you
leave, the better it will be. I had no doubt she would
leave and soon, but not before she was to wreak some
more havoc on what her father had hoped would be a
happy home, a new start.
It came first with the news that she had
managed to get failing grades in every subject in
which she had enrolled at the community college. My
assistance in math hadn't helped her with the class
because she didn't understand or try to understand any
of the homework I had done. Her teacher knew pretty
quickly that she was having someone else do the
work, and like every other time she was exposed as a
liar or a deceiver, she simply shrugged it off or made
it look and sound like nothing of any importance. Dave got the news first from one of her
teachers at the college who came to his pharmacy for
medication, and then he learned about her failures
from the official college mailing that he read. His
confrontation with Betsy over it came to a head in a
storm of rage that threatened to blow out the very walls of our house. In the midst of that. I heard what people called the eye of the storm, the silence right
before a hurricane resumes.
I had been outside most of the afternoon. I saw
Dave return from work. He had gone into the store
early and was off. He had the mail in his hands,
waved to me, and went into the house. A little more
than an hour later. Betsy drove in, her radio blaring as
usual, the car spitting up dust as she tore up part of the
driveway and jerked it into the spot behind Dave's car. It was late fall now. The days were shorter, the
afternoons especially abbreviated. Years of
experience in nature told me that the cooler breezes
were foretelling an early winter. There were years
when it actually snowed hard in October and the
temperatures dropped to below freezing quickly. I put all my tools away carefully and started
toward the house. As I walked, I remembered my dog.
Cleo, and how he had enjoyed following me about
everywhere and how I enjoyed having him at my
heels. He had filled the dark holes of loneliness and
made my life here more than just bearable. Maybe I
should get Mama to let me have another dog. I
thought, but then I thought it would be heartbreaking
if she came to harbor the same suspicions she had of
Cleo. I was really beginning to feel sorry for myself.
Despite the brave and indifferent front I put up
between myself and Betsy, her continual criticism,
sarcasm, and challenges were having an effect. I could
feel myself breaking down. I had come close to losing
my temper a number of times since her accusations
about me and Mama. I was tired of her lording over
me, threatening to do this and that to cause Mama to
get angry. If anything now. I was beginning to resent
Mama's defense of her, especially her understanding
and tolerance. Why was she closing her eyes to the
harmful and damaging effect Betsy was having on all
of us, especially Dave?
Before I reached the porch. I could hear his
shouting. I would quickly learn that he had rushed up
to her room after he had opened the le
tter from the
college informing him and her that she had been
dropped from the college rolls. None of us knew that
she had been dropped from two classes because she
had simply not shown up enough times, and
apparently she had been called into the dean of
students' office twice to discuss her situation. All the
promises she had made, she had broken.
I opened the front door and entered, listening to the litany of charges and complaints Dave was shouting at her up in her room. I closed the door softly and walked down to the living room. Mama was sitting in the rocker with Baby Celeste on her lap, her head against Mama's breast, her eyes opened. She looked to be listening as well. Mama didn't turn to me. She kept gazing out the window, her face remarkably
at peace, actually caught in a beautiful glow. Dave had left Betsy's bedroom door open so it
was impossible not to hear every word.
"Why did you even start this if you knew you
weren't going to do it properly? Just to get me to buy
you a car? Was that it. Betsy?"
"No," we heard.
"Then why? Why? To make a fool of me?" "I don't have to do anything to make a fool of
you. You do enough yourself," she fired back. There was a moment of silence.
Mama's smile widened. Why?
I thought he would just walk out and slam
Betsy's door. but I didn't hear any footsteps.
"What do you intend to do with yourself now,
Betsy?" he finally asked her, his voice quivering. "I don't know. I have other problems, bigger
problems." What could they be? I wondered. Mama turned her head slowly toward me and
our eyes met. Baby Celeste was looking my way, too. "What bigger problems?" Dave. asked Betsy. "It's not my fault. It's your fault!" she shouted. "Excuse me? What are you talking about now.
Betsy? What's my fault?" I turned toward the stairway
and listened hard.
"Those pills you gave me. They didn't work.
They were probably old or something."
"What? You mean... are you talking about the
birth control pills?"
"What other pills did you give me, Daddy?" Another silence made the air in the house
heavy.
"My God," Dave said finally. "Not again?" "Its your fault!" she screamed. "You probably
gave me samples or something that was no good
anymore."
"You neglected them? You had unprotected sex
and neglected to take your pills? Is that what you're
saying?"
"No! Look," she screamed. "See. I followed
directions. See, every pill I was supposed to take, I
took."
I looked back at Mama. She was smiling now.
The pills I had dropped, I thought. "Mama?" "Take the baby. Noble, and get her cleaned up
for dinner. I have to get started on it," she said, rising
from the chair.
I heard the door slam upstairs and a moment
later Dave's footsteps on the stairway. He descended
like someone going to his own funeral, his head
down, his shoulders slumped. I took Baby Celeste's
hand and started for the stairway. He paused and
looked at me., and when he did. I saw such pain in his
eyes, my own heart closed like a fist in my chest. His
face was white with shock and agony. He just shook
his head and continued down the stairs. He knew, of
course. that we had heard the whole argument
between him and Betsy.
Betsy's door was shut tight. I took Baby Celeste
into the bathroom and helped her wash up and fix her
hair. She loved to brush her own hair now and was
very aware of how she looked, her clothes and shoes. Betsy did not come down for dinner. Dave ate
sparingly. Mama continually urged him to eat and not
get himself sick over the situation.
"We'll do what we have to do, Dave," she said,
putting her hand over his.
He nodded. "I'm sorry. Sarah. It wasn't supposed to be like this. I wasn't supposed to be
bringing you new and bigger problems."
"For better or for worse," Mama recited. "In
sickness and in health."
He smiled and looked a bit cheered. She threw
me a glance that made me shudder a little. It was more
like a conspiratorial glance. What did she think I
knew or understood? I really felt sorry for Dave. and I
was beginning to feel that I was part of some great
betrayal. Even though I had no sympathy or love. for
Betsy, I hated seeing him so distraught and defeated. After we ate, Mama prepared a dish and told
me to take it upstairs to see if Betsy would eat. You don't have to do that. Sarah," Dave said.
"She's old enough to know to come down if she wants
something to eat. 'We're not going to cater to her
anymore, not now."
"We won't," Mama assured him, "but we can't
let her neglect her health. Dave, especially now, now
can we?"
He had to nod, to admit she was right, take it up
to her."
"No. Noble can do it Besides, she might not
open the door for you. She's in a funk. She's actually
just embarrassed and feeling very guilty, and the sight
of you only reminds her of her own failing." "You're probably right about that, Sarah. Your
mother is much wiser than I am. Noble. Maybe. she
does get good advice from a higher source."
Mama smiled and then looked firmly at me. I
didn't want to have anything to do with Betsy. but I
took the plate upstairs and knocked on her door. "I have some food for you." I said when she
didn't respond.
I expected she wouldn't answer and I would just
turn and bring the food downstairs, but to my surprise,
she opened the door abruptly. She was standing there
in her bra and panties.
"You're just gloating, aren't you? You and your
mommy," she accused. I shook my head. "No, of
course not. by should we gloat?"
"That's all right. I've got a big surprise for all of
you." She turned back to her closet. She plucked a
blouse off the rack and slipped it on, turning to smile
at me as she buttoned up. ''You like watching a girl
get dressed?"
"I came up here to give you this." I nodded at
the plate. "Do you want it or not?"
She looked at the food. "I'm sick of the food
your mother makes. Nothing is normal. I bet you've never had a piece of pizza." She turned and found a
pair of jeans to put on.
"So you don't want it?" I asked, tired of her
quips and nasty remarks. "You are bright," she said,
sitting to put on her shoes.
I glanced to her right and saw a suitcase. 'Mat
are you doing?"
"What am I doing? I'm getting a life, getting
away from this insane asylum." "How can you leave?"
I asked, more curious than happy about it.
"Watch me and you'll get the idea. Maybe
someday you'll wake up, realize you're becoming
weirder and weirder, and you'll leave yourself,
although I have big doubts. After all, how can you
stop reading children's books and talking to
shadows?"
She smiled at the expression on my face. "Oh,
you didn't know I overheard you whispering out there
sometimes, did you? Or
that I put my ear to your door
and heard you talking to no one. You're crazy, aren't
you? Do you see dead people?" she asked. laughing.
"I know your mother thinks she does. Everyone
knows about that.
"Which," she added, running a brush through
her hair, "makes me wonder what the hell my father
was thinking when he asked her to marry him." "You just can't run away. You have a big
problem to solve."
"Big problem?"
"We heard. We couldn't help but hear the way
you were screaming at your father."
"Oh, so you're worried about me. Noble man?
Well, don't," she snapped, and tossed her brush onto
the vanity table. "I don't need your help or your
mother's or my father's either."
She scooped up her suitcase.
"'Where are you going?"
"Away," she sang.
"By yourself.'"
"No, not by myself, stupid. I met someone
who's fun to be with."
"You mean Roy?"
"No, not Roy. Roy is too in love with himself
and his glory as a college star. He's not going
anywhere."
"But... who
"Baby? You want to know whose baby I have
inside me? Well, that's for me to know and you to
wonder about." She laughed, "Don't look so surprised.
It makes you look even dumber than you are. Here, I
changed my mind. Give me the food."
She reached out and with her free hand took the
plate from me.
"This is what I think of your mother's cooking."
She dumped it on the floor. Then she pushed past me
and started down the stairs, her suitcase banging
against the balustrade. Dave came out of the living
room and saw her descending.
"Where do you think you're going now?" he
demanded. "Away from here!" she shouted, and
opened the front door. I watched from the top of the
stairway.
"Betsy, don't you dare leave this house," Dave
warned. "I mean it. If you run off now with all these
problems. I won't help you. I won't send you money. I
won't--"
'Don 't... " she screamed, her eyes bulging.
"Stay here and die." She stepped out and slammed the
door so hard the house shook.
Dave lowered his head like a flag of defeat. I
came dawn the stairs slowly and Mama came out of
the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She
looked at Dave, who stood by the closed front door,
and then she looked up at me. She was smiling. And that smile turned my blood to ice.