Black Cat

Then I heard him laugh. I hurried to gather up Mama's clothes. "Or should I say our baby?"

  As fast as I could. I turned on the nearest lamp. He was gone in the instant, decimated in the light, and I caught my breath. Then I hurried out of the living room and up the stairs, returning to Mama's room. As quickly as I could. I put back her clothes and I sat at the vanity table and wiped off the lipstick and rouge and eyeliner. My heart was thumping so hard. I thought I would faint and Mama would find me here the next day, still unconscious.

  When I was done removing the makeup. I made sure the room was how I had found it, taking care to close every jar and tube on that vanity table. Afterward. I went into a hot shower and let the water practically bum my skin. I looked in on Celeste and saw she was quietly sleeping, undisturbed, that soft, little smile still on her lips. Her dreams were all good. I thought and breathed easier.

  This night I crawled into bed like someone lying down in her own coffin. I folded my arms over my stomach and pressed my hands together.

  "You have to die again, Celeste," I whispered. "You have to go back."

  It was truly as if I could press my female body back inside me. When I looked at my window on my left, I saw Elliot's face and hands pressed to the pane. He was on the outside looking in again. I had to keep him that way, keep him away from us. How could I get Mama to understand?

  "Daddy," I whispered, "please come back to me. Please tell me what to do." I waited to hear his voice.

  The silence was painful. It made my ears ring. I turned over and buried my face in the pillow.

  Tomorrow, maybe, I thought. Tomorrow he will come and I won't feel as alone and lost.

  When I looked up again. Elliot's face was gone. Between two dark purple clouds, a star gleamed.

  Daddy used to tell Noble and me that every star in the sky was another wish, another promise.

  "How come there are so many?" Noble asked him.

  "People wish for so many things. Aren't you wishing for things all day long? How about you. Celeste?"

  "Yes," I said. "Lots of things."

  "Mommy says the old well is a wishing well," Noble told him. Daddy smiled. "Yes, that's about all its good for now."

  "I throw a rock in it every day and make a wish," Noble told him. "Do you? What about you. Celeste?"

  "She doesn't," Noble answered for me. "She thinks it's silly."

  "I never said it was silly."

  "Well, you don't do it."

  "I wish on the stars like Daddy says instead," I said.

  Noble looked angry but frustrated. "I don't care."

  Daddy laughed. "What did you wish for today?"

  Noble pressed his lips together and folded his arms tightly around himself.

  "You don't have to tell" Daddy said, running his fingers through Noble's wild hair.

  He looked up at Daddy and then looked at me. "I don't have any good friends. I wished Celeste was a boy."

  I fell asleep envisioning a rock falling forever down the wishing well.

  When it hit bottom, I woke with a start. I felt someone's presence and sat up to see Baby Celeste standing in my doorway with her doll in her arms.

  "Celeste, what are you doing up?"

  I swung my feet around to get out of bed.

  "Woke me," she said.

  I paused and smiled at her. then knelt down to look into her face. "Who woke you?" She nodded out the doorway. Was Mama home?

  "Mama?"

  She shook her head.

  "Then who woke you. Celeste?"

  "Daddy," she said, and ran back to her room.

  Like a person frozen in a chunk of ice I rose and heard the air crackle around me.

  Then I followed her and watched her put her doll back in its little bed. "Daddy woke you?" I asked her.

  She smiled at me.

  "Where's Daddy?"

  She went to the window. I followed and looked out with her. I saw no one. "You see Daddy, Celeste?"

  She shook her head and raised her arms. "Gone."

  I looked out again. Did she mean my daddy or did she mean Elliot? Deep in my heart I understood that it wouldn't be long before I knew.

  6

  Thanksgiving

  .

  Mama didn't return until late in the afternoon.

  She called in the morning to say she was on her way back, but they might stop for lunch, and if they did, she would do some shopping.

  You need some new things to wear. Noble. I expect you will be getting out and about soon and I want you to look good," she added.

  What did she mean by out and about? Out and about where and for what purpose? Wondering about it made me nervous all day. I kept Baby Celeste occupied with games and reading, and then for lunch we pretended to have a picnic on the living room floor. I set out a blanket and played the radio. It was something we had done and she loved.

  Someday soon well have a real picnic out in the bright, warm sunshine. I thought, although I didn't know how or when.

  I remembered the picnics we used to have when Daddy was alive. Noble loved them, as did I and even Mama. We were all so happy then. It was hard to believe it could ever change, that anything evil could ever touch us or harm us, and that there would be a time when we wouldn't be together. How does that feeling, that wonderful feeling, ever get captured again? Maybe it never would,

  After I put Baby Celeste in bed for her midday nap. I sat on the porch with the door open and the screen door closed. I would be able to hear her if she called to me. I regretted not being able to do any work around the farm. It was sunny, but a cold front had made its way south from Canada and the afternoon temperatures were unusually low for the time of the year. It was more like a beautiful fall day, a perfect day for the kind of work I had left to do.

  About four o'clock. I saw Mr. Fletcher's car turn into our driveway. I rose quickly and went into the house. Baby Celeste was still asleep. I crouched by the front window in the living room and watched as the car came to a stop in front of the house. Mr. Fletcher hopped out instantly and ran around to open Mama's door. They were both laughing at something. He opened the rear door and took out some shopping bags. I could see he wanted to carry everything into the house for her, but she told him she could manage. I knew she wasn't sure if Baby Celeste was upstairs asleep or not.

  They kissed again and Mama started for the house. "I'll call you later," he sang out, got into his car, and backed it up. She stood on the porch watching him turn the car around and drive off before she entered the house. I met her in the hallway.

  "Is everything all right?" she asked

  immediately.

  I didn't want her to know I had been spying on her through the window, but I was sure she saw it in my eyes. Sometimes I believed that what I looked at remained on the surface of my eyes and Mama could see it. It was futile to deny haying looked at

  something forbidden.

  "Yes. Mama."

  "Where's the baby?"

  "She's still taking her afternoon nap."

  "Good. Here." She held out one of the shopping bags toward me. "There are some very nice new shirts for you, socks. and two pairs of jeans."

  She started for the stairway.

  "Where were you? I thought you were corning home much earlier." I said, following,

  She turned, smiling down at me.

  "You sound like my father, Noble. 'Where were you?' he would ask in a similarly grouchy tone. And he would stand just like you're standing with your hands on your hips. The men in this family are surely cut from the same cloth:"

  I lowered my hands quickly. '1 was worried."

  "Worried? I called. You knew I was coming home about now. Stop being such a... a nervous Nellie." She laughed to herself and continued up the stairway.

  I looked back at the doorway as if Mr. Fletcher were still present and then I hurried up after her. Despite how I had cleaned up and reorganized her things. I couldn't help being afraid that when she went into her bedroom, she would know I had been there and I
had done what I had done with her makeup and clothes.

  But she wasn't behaving like my insightful mother, my perceptive, gifted mother. She was acting more like a teenage girl, giggling over the events of her date, babbling to me nonstop about the way Mr. Fletcher and she had enjoyed this wonderful dinner and slept in what was often used as the honeymoon suite. She raved about the beautiful grounds.

  The place had a lake. As soon as we finished breakfast, we went for a rowboat ride. I can't remember the last time I did something like that. It was like being in a Venetian gondola. There I was lying back with a wildflower in my hair and he was rowing and singing in Italian. He has a very nice voice, you know.

  "I hated to leave the place, but we went to this enormous mall. I felt Eke someone from another planet, or at least another country. I couldn't get over the size of the place. Dave found it amusing, but believe me, you could spend weeks there without seeing it all. Noble, and there were so many nice restaurants from which to choose for lunch.. I had Mexican food. I hadn't had that since your father courted me.

  "Anyway. I wasn't bored for a second, not a second," she said, unpacking her bag.

  She looked at herself in the vanity table mirror, and for a long moment I thought she was going to realize I had been at the table, but she was really just looking at her own hair and face.

  "Dave. thinks I have remarkably young-looking skin. I guess I do. Of course, that's no accident. Look at what I bought myself," she quickly added, and took a sheer, pink negligee out of her bag. She held it up against herself. "Well? Don't just stand there like someone unconscious with his eyes open. Noble. Isn't it exquisite?"

  "Yes," I said, but from the smirk on her face. I knew I didn't sound excited enough for her,

  "Why don't you go try on your new clothes? I might have to shorten your jeans. Go on. Put on a pair and come back here," she said with some annoyance.

  She turned back to her bag, but after another pause, she continued to talk to me as if she had immediately forgotten her disappointment.

  "Do you know what Dave's favorite love song is. Noble? 'La Vie en Rose.' Isn't that remarkable? It was your father's favorite love song. too. I haven't played it since he died. but I will play it again.

  "Ill play it for Dave the first chance I get when he comes to the house . "

  "You're inviting him here?"

  "Of course I'm inviting him here. Don't you understand anything?"

  I shook my head. How was she going to manage all this. manage Baby Celeste? Or did she expect me to hide upstairs with her?

  "Just go try on those jeans, Noble. I don't have the patience for your stupidity at the moment. Go on," she ordered, waving me off.

  Dazed. I went to my room and did what she asked. Before I could return, she came to my room. She had put all of her things away and changed into one of her housecoats. Now she looked more like herself with the makeup gone, too.

  "Just as I thought." she said, kneeling to pin up my cuffs. "I need to raise it about an inch and a half. Okay. Take them off, Ill do it as soon as I can."

  Baby Celeste, hearing her voice, cried out.

  "Oh, good, she's up." Mama said, and hurried to her room.

  I took off the new jeans and put on my old ones. As I was doing so, I heard Mama running a bath in her bathroom. Why was she doing that? I wondered. It was too early to give Baby Celeste her bath. I thought, but when I peered into the bathroom, she was doing just that. She had the baby in the tub.

  "Why are you giving her a bath now, Mama?"

  Baby Celeste looked up at me and smiled.

  Mama didn't answer. She poured one of her herbal shampoos over Baby Celeste's head and began to scrub the dye out of her hair. I watched astonished as she rinsed it and the full rich color of her red hair was restored.

  "Why are you doing that, Mama?" I asked breathlessly.

  "Because its time." She turned and looked at me with a harder, colder, more determined expression on her face. Her eyes were dark. too. "It's time. Time to greet tomorrow."

  Time to greet tomorrow? What did that mean?

  You can go back to work now. Noble. There is still a lot of daylight left. Go see to your chores."

  I didn't move.

  She spun on me. "Well?" "Okay, Mama."

  I walked down the stairs slowly. I couldn't help having troubled thoughts. So much was changing, and quickly, too. Our world was going- through some sort of upheaval. In so many ways, I should be happy about it. I thought, but I wasn't happy as much as I was frightened. Tomorrow suddenly felt like a threat.

  I worked outside until Mama called me in for dinner. Seeing Baby Celeste with a fall head of rich red hair was startling, but Mama didn't skip a beat. It was almost as if she didn't notice what she had done.

  "We're going to have a little dinner party a week from tonight," she announced when we sat at the table.

  "Dinner party? What do you mean. Mama?"

  "I'm going to bring out the best china and use my grandmother's linen tablecloth. It will be a very special night. It's time Dave got to know you. Noble."

  I felt my throat close up and fought to get it open so I could speak. "You're inviting Mr. Fletcher to dinner here?"

  "That's the idea of a dinner party. Noble. You invite guests. In this case well just have one." She leaned over to wipe some cranberry juice off Baby Celeste's chin.

  "But what about Baby Celeste?" "What about her?"

  I shook my head slowly, fear building inside me. What was it she wanted me to say, to think? What truth was I to ignore? Should I come right out and ask her if she wasn't worried he would see his son in Baby Celeste's face? The way Mama talked about her, she had no genetic makeup but that which came from our family, and her side of it to be more exact.

  "I mean, he'll see her," was as much as I dared say.

  Mama turned from me to Baby Celeste and shook her head sadly.

  "Oh, yes," she said as if just remembering it all. "Poor little Celeste. How dreadful."

  "What?" I asked, and held my breath.

  "My second cousin on my mother's side. Lucinda Heavenstone, and her husband. Roger, killed in a car accident, and both so young with so much to live for. As you know. Lucinda's parents are both deceased," Mama continued, turning to me and reciting. "Roger's father had that bad stroke two years ago. remember? And his mother, of course, died giving birth to Roger. His stepmother wants nothing to do with caring for Roger's father or poor little Celeste, now left all alone in the world.

  "Except for us. How could we not take her in?" Mama asked me. "And how she has taken to us. Such an exceptional child, don't you think?

  "Anyway, what's family for if we can't do a good Christian thing like this? We can't let her go off and live with strangers, be farmed out to some foster care, now can we, Noble?"

  I stared at her. Would Mr. Fletcher believe such a story ? Would anyone? On the other hand, would anyone care whether it was true or not?

  Mama looked so confident, and yet the way she smiled made her face look more like a mask. She had something else to say, something else in her mind.

  As if on cue, as if she knew how precisely to time everything, Mama turned toward the kitchen just as the phone rang.

  "Fin expecting a call," she told me, and got up. I listened as hard as I could.

  "Oh. Dave," I heard her say. "something terrible has happened. I won't be able to see you tomorrow. I have to go to Pennsylvania. A young cousin of mine and her husband were killed in a terrible car accident. They were hit head-on by one of those dreadful tractor-trailer trucks. They're both dead, but

  miraculously, their child escaped serious injury.... Yes... No. I'm not going just for the funeral. I'm going to bring their baby back here. A little girl barely three years old. There's no one else.... Yes, yes, it's a horrible affair. I know you understand. I appreciate that.... No, be fine. Thanks for offering. I'll call you as soon as I return.... Thank you, I'll be fine, Dave. Please.... Yes. I know, but what does family mean if I ca
n't do this?... Me. too. I'll call you as soon as I can."

  I heard her hang up.

  When she returned to the dining room. both Baby Celeste and I looked up at her.

  She smiled at us. "Don't look so worried, children. Everything is going just the way I was told it would."

  Baby Celeste clapped her hands as if she understood every word. My eyes met Mama's and held. For the first time ever, it was she who shifted away first. She busied herself with clearing the table.

  "Take the baby into the living room," she ordered. "I'll be there soon. I want to practice 'La Vie en Rose,'" she added, threw a smile my way, and went into the kitchen.

  I lifted Baby Celeste out of her chair and took her into the living room. I felt so weak and frightened inside. I thought I might drop her. so I put her down quickly. Tonight she wanted to look at pictures in albums. A collection of them was on a shelf of a side table. Some of the pictures were so old they were faded nearly to the point where nothing could be clearly seen. Baby Celeste would sit with an album opened on her lap and look at the photos for hours if we let her. How she could be so interested in people she had never met or seen intrigued me. She loved to point out babies and children.

  There were some photographs of Noble and me, and when she looked at them, she invariably pointed to Noble and said. "Noble.- I could never tell if she saw him or saw me in the pictures, but she did stare with greater interest at my picture.

  "The first Celeste," I would whisper to her. She wouldn't speak. She would look at me and then back at the picture.

  What went on in that little head of hers? I wondered. What did she think when she heard the name and looked at me? What was she really capable of knowing?

  When Mama came in, she went right to the piano and began to practice the song. After a while, she began to sing it, too, sins it in French. She had a beautiful voice. Why wouldn't Mr. Fletcher fall head over heels in love with her? Why wouldn't anyone?

  Before she was finished, she looked to one of the front windows and then back at me. expectantly.

  "I knew the song would bring him. Noble." she said.

  I stared at the window.

  Bring him? Bring whom? Daddy? Her smile told me that was whom she saw.

  But there was just darkness there for me. I waited anxiously for his smiling face, but the face I saw when I finally saw one take shape was not Daddy's. It was Elliot's. I turned sharply to see if Mama saw him, too, but she was singing again and quite lost in her own thoughts.