Black Cat

  I walked around the house and looked up at what I knew to be Mamaand Daves room. The light was on, but dimly, and the curtains were drawn.

  "Hes dying, you know, " I heard, and turned to look into the darker shadows from which the words had come. "It's what she wants. She has no more use for him."

  I said nothing. That voice was too familiar to me. I gazed into the darkness and gradually, gradually Elliot took shape from the shadows.

  "I've poisoned the well. I told you I would and there's nothing you can do about it. Noble man," he said gleefully.

  Was he there? Did I really hear him?

  I stepped toward him and he retreated, falling back into the darkness more and more until he was indistinguishable from it. He's afraid of me. I thought. I am not helpless. I can still do something.

  More determined now. I hurried back inside the house. Mama was in the kitchen cleaning up. I heard her mumbling to someone and for a moment that frightened me. The spirits were everywhere. The ones she could see and I couldn't see were surely watching me, watching every step I took. however Elliot's words rang and bonged in my head like a heavy church bell. He's dying She has no more use for him. He's dying.. dying.

  I ascended the stairway as quietly as I could, but the house was far more loyal to Mama than it was to me. The steps creaked even more loudly; the balustrade shook and rattled. I paused and listened for her footsteps. All I heard was a low, continuous murmuring coming from the kitchen. She was too involved in what she was saying.

  I moved faster and then, again tiptoeing over the upstairs floor, made my way quickly to Mama and Dave's bedroom door. To me it sounded as if I were walking over a pile of loose rocks, no matter how softly I stepped. Once again I paused to listen, and once again I didn't hear her footsteps on the stairway behind me. Carefully, slowly, ever so slowly. I turned the doorknob and opened the door. The hinges, just as loyal to Mama as were the steps and floor. squeaked.

  Only a small desk lamp was lit. It cast a giant shadow over the bed, a shadow that looked more like a shroud. Dave's forehead was somewhat illuminated. It looked as yellow as a slab of butter, As I drew closer. I saw that the blanket was up to his chin. A nearly full glass of water was on the night table with a small saucer beside it, a piece of old china rarely if ever used. In it I saw what looked like multicolored crumbs of some herbal substance Mama had created. The spoon beside the saucer indicated she had been giving Dave doses of it.

  He was lying so still and staring wide-eyed up at the ceiling as if he saw something astounding. Whatever it was absorbed his full attention because he didn't hear or see me enter the bedroom. I approached the bed and stood beside it, looking down at him. His eyes did not move toward me, although he blinked.

  "Dave," I said in a loud, careful whisper. "How are you dom. g?" He continued to stare at the ceiling.

  "Dave." I said, reaching down to touch his shoulder. Slowly, ever so slowly, he lowered his eyes and turned them toward me. He had no reaction. He looked at me like someone who wasn't sure I was there, who wasn't sure he had heard me speak. Maybe he thought I was one of Mama's spirits.

  "Dave, it's Noble. Can't you hear me? What's wrong with you?" His lips moved slightly and his eyes blinked.

  "You've got to go to a hospital right now. Dave. You're very, very sick. Do you understand what I'm saying? I'll take you, okay? Dave?"

  His head shook in tiny, almost incremental motions from side to side and his lips moved a little more, but he did not speak. I looked at the saucer, then lifted it and smelled the herbal medications. I had no idea what was in them, but when I looked closely at the glass of water, I saw that it, too, had something mixed in it, the residue of which lay at the bottom of the glass. Also on the nightstand were bottles and tablets of over-the-counter drugs and what looked like something someone would have to get with a prescription.

  He had closed his eves again. I shook his shoulder a little more vigorously. "Dave, can you hear me? Do you understand what I'm saying? You're very

  He opened his eyes and turned a little more toward me, but his eyes showed no recognition.

  I heard a laugh and looked across the room.

  Elliot was standing by the window. "If s too late. Don't you understand? I told you, it's too late."

  "No!" I cried back at him.

  His smile changed to an angry look, "He thought you would be the son I wasn't, that you would take my place. He's dying a fool," Elliot said with satisfaction. "A fool."

  I shook my head. "No. I won't let him." I stepped toward Elliot just as I had outside and he backed away. His laughter followed him as he sank into the wall and was Gone.

  Out of the corner of my eye. I saw Dave shudder as though a deep chill had cut through him like a knife.

  I reached down and found his hand under the blanket. It felt cold. stiff. I had to make him understand what was happening to him. Desperation seized me. I had to help him.

  "Dave, listen to me. Baby Celeste is really your granddaughter. I am not Noble. Noble is gone and has been for a long time. Elliot and I... we... I'm the real Celeste." Tears were streaming clown my cheeks now. "Baby Celeste is my daughter, mine. Don't you see? Don't you understand what that means? You've got to get well. You haven't lost your whole family. You haven't."

  He was looking up at me, but his eyes were still quite dull, his face unmoving.

  I let go of his hand and slowly brought my fingers to my shirt. Although he continued to look confused and dazed, he didn't turn his head away as I unbuttoned it. Then I lifted the strapping that flattened my breasts and showed him my bosom. His eyelids flickered and his lips moved apart, but his tongue looked paralyzed. Then his eyelids closed.

  "Dave!" I reached down to touch his face. His eyes didn't open. He didn't move. "Dave, are you all right? Dave?" I screamed.

  "What are you doing in here?" Mama asked from the doorway.

  I turned and looked at her.

  "Why is your shirt unbuttoned?"

  "Mama, he is very sick. He can't even talk. He looks like he's in a coma or something."

  "I'm very well aware of how he is. I've made arrangements to take him to the hospital in the morning if he is not any better. Now get out and leave him be."

  "But I think he should go right now." I looked clown at him again. His eyelids Buttered and opened.

  "He's taken something to help him rest. He decided to do it himself, so leave. You're disturbing his very needed rest. Leave. Noble, now!" she ordered. "You don't belong in here."

  I hesitated,

  "You're only making things worse for everyone. I don't like this insubordination. Noble. What does it mean? Who told you to come in here?"

  "No one," I said, my heart pounding. I shook my head. "I was simply worried about him, that's all,"

  "If you're worried about him, leave."

  I glanced back at him, and then I walked out, my head down.

  She seized my arm. "Go to sleep. And don't come back in here unless I tell you to do so."

  When I stepped out, she closed the door. I stood there in the hallway, torn between rushing to the phone and calling an ambulance myself or doing what she told me to do. If I made the call. I would be defying her more dramatically than I ever had. I had no idea what that would lead to, how it would impact our lives. Our world would surely come crumbling down around us and I might do irreparable harm to Baby Celeste.

  I couldn't help crying, even though I managed to subdue my sobs. The tears flowed as I got ready for bed and even after I crawled under my blanket.

  "Daddy, help us," I prayed. "Please, please, help us " I waited and listened.

  I heard Mama's footsteps as she went by and then down the stairs. A little while later, she returned, paused at my door, then went to her own bedroom. Emotional exhaustion finally lowered sleep over me and shut me up in my own tumultuous night of dreams. I tossed and turned and woke many times during the night so that when morning came, I was too groggy and tired to keep my eyes open. I slept much later
than usual, but when I finally woke. I realized how late it was and practically leaped out of bed to wash and dress.

  It was so quiet in the house that for a moment I thought everyone was gone.. Could it be that the ambulance had already come and left? I couldn't have slept through something like that. could I?

  Mama and Dave's bedroom door was closed as usual. but I hesitated outside my door, then decided that before I went down, I would check on him. I went to the door and knocked softly.

  "Mama? Are you in there?" I waited.

  The sound of Baby Celeste laughing at something downstairs told me Mama had gone down. Once again. I went through a hard debate with myself. Should I just go downstairs, too, or should I look in on him as I had done last night? In the end I couldn't turn away despite her order and her warning. I opened the door and looked in. Dave was lying just as he had been. but I felt something different about him. I listened for Mama and then I went in and up to the bed.

  He was staring cold-eyed at the ceiling. His lids were not flickering and his face was ashen.

  "Dave?"

  I reached down slowly and touched his face. The shock of deathly cold made it seem more like I had put my fingers in a candle flame. I literally jumped back and then brought my closed fist to my mouth to smother a scream. For a long moment. I felt that I couldn't move, that my feet had been nailed to the bedroom floor. but finally. I turned, rushed out and down the stairs.

  Mama was sitting in the dining room having breakfast with Baby Celeste, smiling at her and laughing at something she had said. They both looked up as I came through the doorway.

  Well now, look who has decided to grace us with his presence this morning. Celeste," Mama said.

  "Noble," Baby Celeste said.

  "Yes, Noble. He just gets up and we're nearly finished with our breakfast, aren't we, Celeste?"

  "Mama. I went in to check on Dave and... and... he's gone," I said. the words choking in my throat.

  Mama nodded. "Yes. I know," she said with a nonchalance that took my breath away. She gave Baby Celeste another piece of toast and jelly, then leaned over to wipe her lips. She sat back again and looked at me.

  "Mama. Pm saying Dave is dead."

  "I think I know that. Noble." She leaned toward me, her eyes narrowing. "He was doing just fine. What made you go in there last night and do what you did?" she asked accusingly.

  I shook my head and backed away a few steps. "I didn't do anything. I wanted to help him."

  "You're so pathetic when you lie. You didn't help anyone. You only endangered us all. There was a great swirl of displeasure about this house all night. I felt the anger and disappointment and I heard them mumbling. I have a lot to do to make things right again, a lot to do."

  "But. Mama, what about Dave?"

  "It was what was meant to be You are no longer to be concerned about it." She brushed some crumbs off Baby Celeste. "We'll need more firewood tonight. It's going to be a particularly cold evening, And I think you should clean out the roof gutters on the south side of the house. I noticed the old leaves and melted ice building up there, and you know that can lead to leaks in the roof."

  "But..."

  "Its all taken care of. Noble." she said sharply, and looked at me again. "I've called for an ambulance. You'd better have your breakfast. I'll be busy in a little while and you'll have to mind the baby. Don't just stand there looking stupid. Get cracking." she snapped.

  I didn't want to eat anything. but I got myself a glass of water. Soon after we heard the paramedics arriving. Mama went to the door to greet them.

  "Hurry!" she cried, and two paramedics rushed into the house. She showed them where to go. I stood back with Baby Celeste in my arms watching all the activity. A stretcher was brought upstairs moments later.

  Could it be that he would be all right, that they had come in time to revive him? Give him CPR or some sort of electric shock that would bring him back? I wondered hopefully. I heard them emerging. The stretcher was empty. Mama followed, her head down. The two men glanced at me and then went out to their vehicle.

  "What's going on?" I asked. breathless.

  "The medical examiner is on his way," Mama said, her lips curled in the corners disdainfully. "It's considered an unattended death so there has to be an examination here. A lot of bureaucratic nonsense. Just take care of the baby as I told you. Dress her and take her out. Keep her out of everyone's way."

  The medical examiner and a sheriffs deputy arrived shortly afterward. Since there were no sins of foul play. Dave's body was carried down and placed in the ambulance. I overheard them say there would be an autopsy, of course. All of the drugs Dave had taken and all of the herbal remedies Mama had created for him were carefully bagged and taken as well.

  Baby Celeste and I stood off to the side watching everyone and all the activity. When the ambulance left and the sheriff s deputy and the examiner followed. Mama nodded at us and then went inside.

  I followed with the baby. She was already sitting in the rocking chair, her eves closed,

  "'What's going to happen now, Mama?" I asked softly.

  She opened her eyes and looked at me. "Everything is going to be fine. Everything is going to be as it should be Tend to your chores. You can leave Baby Celeste here with me." She rocked herself gently, "Just leave her with me," she whispered.

  Later that day Mama began to make funeral arrangements. She called Mr. Bogart, who called the Reverend Mr, Austin. The date of Dave's funeral would depend on when the medical examiner released the body. Mama had a list of Dave's relatives, cousins and one elderly aunt. None of them had come to their wedding. He had explained he wasn't close with anyone. so Mama didn't anticipate any of them coming to the funeral. When she explained to the police that neither she nor Dave had any idea where Betsy would be, they said they would see about finding her, but that didn't lead to anything. Mama said they probably made the smallest possible effort, not that she could blame them. It wasn't, she reminded me and any of her customers, like searching for a kidnapped child.

  The first day, we had no callers beside Mr. Bogart and his wife and the reverend and his wife, Tani. Some of Mama's regular customers stopped by on the second day. On the third day. Mama received a call from our attorney. Mr. Derward Lee NoklebyCook. He came to see her and they talked in the living room while I kept Baby Celeste occupied up in my room. Afterward. Mama told me Dave had made arrangements for most of his estate to be transferred to Mama and Baby Celeste, with a smaller portion going to Betsy. However. Dave, afraid of giving Betsy anything until she was more responsible, had left Mama as trustee of that portion. She was to dole it out when Betsy reached the age of twenty-five. Needless to say. Mama was pleased with it all.

  Later that afternoon, the sheriff's deputy arrived with a copy of the report the medical examiner was making. He had ruled Dave's death accidental, but he had placed the cause on what he called

  "contradictions" between some of Mama's herbal remedies and prescription medications as well as over-the-counter drugs. The actual cause of death was described as renal failure, which led to heart failure.

  A local newspaper reporter visited us the following morning to get a statement from Mama. People in what he called "the orthodox medical community" were up in arms about so-called healers like Mama who were not licensed by any respected authority and who endangered people with their herbal remedies because there was no warning about dosages and possible side effects when they were used in conjunction with prescribed drugs.

  The irony of Mama accidentally causing the death of her own husband was not lost on the reporter. He tried to get her to say something more emotional, probably hoping to stimulate an argument between her and the medical community, but she only stated her regrets and her doubts that the medical examiner knew anything definite. Nevertheless, the news would undoubtedly have a negative effect on Mama's herbalremedy business. It wouldn't be long before her regulars would dwindle to barely anyone.

  She wasn't terribly concer
ned or at least didn't show it if she was. Her previous inheritance and now her inheritance from Dave were enough to keep us safe and comfortable. Mr. Bogart stood by her and told her he would continue to develop distribution for her herbal remedies. He had his sources outside the community, he said, and they were not influenced or dissuaded by the uproar in the medical community, which they distrusted anyway.

  Dave's funeral was small. Mama had chosen a plain pine box for his coffin, in keeping with how much importance she placed on the spirit, and how little she placed on the body, The church, practically empty, echoed with the Reverend Mr. Austin's poetic elegy. He spoke about Dave kindly, but made it sound as if he didn't die, as if he were still among us, even sitting next to me and Mama. He smiled at us and nodded at Mama, who nodded back, as if the two of them knew a great secret few of the rest of us knew.

  Beside our few friends and some of the more curious, there were some of his fellow employees from the drugstore and the manager. Mr. Derward Lee Nokleby-Cook was there without his wife. They attended the burial. too. It was a cold but clear day with barely a cloud in the sky, too beautiful a day for an interment. It was actually the kind of day Dave would have enjoyed. I thought, he loved the cool, fresh, crisp air.

  Afterward. Mama had these people over. People had sent some nice fruit and candy baskets and Mama prepared some food. Tani Austin and Mrs. Bogart looked after the guests and cleaned the dishes and silverware. The people who came were all taken with Baby Celeste, who won their smiles and admiration with her rather serious and grown-up demeanor. She was calling Dave Daddy by now and told them all Daddy was looking after her from heaven. She actually lifted her little face toward the ceiling and smiled as if she could see him looking down at us. It brought tears to everyone's eyes.

  As I watched Mama talking to people, sometimes holding Baby Celeste, sometimes just holding her hand. I realized how she had achieved what she had wanted. Baby Celeste had a real mother and father now. People were more than willing to accept and love her. What's more, she had the sympathy of strangers. I had never been deeper down in my grave.