“She’s not in her room. I was just up there.” Panic was building in her now, but she tried to be calm.
“Mama, where is she? Where’s my baby?”
Edna stood up and came toward Diana.
“Calm down, Diana,” she said. Outside, she could hear the wind still blowing, and in her daughter’s eyes she saw the familiar look of fear and confusion. “Calm down! She must be here.” Edna, fully awake now, remembered Joyce Crowley’s phone call. “Unless she went with her friends,” she added.
Diana’s eyes were wild. “Went? Went where?”
“Some of the children were going up to the mine—” Edna began, but before she could go on, Diana was screaming.
“The mine? She was going up to the mine? Why?”
“Diana!” Edna reached out to grasp her daughter’s arm, but Diana twisted away.
“No … she can’t go up there, Mama. It’s too dangerous. Mama, don’t let her … I’ve got to find her … got to stop her!”
As Edna watched helplessly Diana ran out into the howling winds of the night.
Christie’s heart was pounding in her chest, and her breath was coming in gasps, but she kept running. Then, coming toward her, she recognized Diana. Her fear of the afternoon forgotten in the terror of the night, she stopped running.
She was safe. Whatever she’d seen, it couldn’t get her now.
“Aunt Diana? Aunt Diana, help!”
Diana paused, the wind lashing at her in the darkness. Had she heard something—someone—calling to her? She took a hesitant step forward. “Baby? Is that my baby? Mama’s coming, pretty baby. Mama’s coming for you.”
Christie froze. There was something in Diana’s voice, and in the way she moved, that frightened her even more than whatever she had left behind at the mine. Diana’s voice sounded the way it always did before she hit Christie. Panic swept over her, and she began to cry, but even in her fear, she remembered what happened to her when she cried.
“Good little girls don’t cry.” The words echoed in her mind, and she fled from Diana.
“Baby,” Diana muttered. “Baby, where are you?” She looked around, but suddenly there was nothing for her but the darkness and the wind.
Once again she began plodding up the hill toward the mine.
Jay-Jay Jennings giggled to herself. Christie, she decided, was a scaredy-cat, just like the others. But she, Jay-Jay, wasn’t. It was kind of fun, being in the mine alone, and if she stayed long enough, she would find out if the stories she had heard were true.
She felt in her pocket for the tiny flashlight she had brought along and ventured deeper into the mine.
The darkness closed around her, and she turned on the light. She flashed it around, then reached out to touch the wall of the tunnel. Feeling her way along, she moved toward the vertical shaft.
She listened carefully, but all she could hear was the sound of the wind.
Then, when it seemed as though she must be far from the entrance, she heard another sound.
It was like a baby, and it seemed to be crying.
Was it the wind? Jay-Jay couldn’t be sure.
And then, behind her, between her and the entrance, she heard a voice.
This time she knew it wasn’t the wind.
She could feel a presence in the mine, as an animal can sense approaching danger. She snapped off the light and waited.
She heard a voice, calling out in the darkness.
Cowering low to the floor of the mine, Jay-Jay didn’t answer.
And then there was only the wind, and the strange sound that was like a baby crying.
Diana paused just inside the mine, listening to the howling wind.
She could hear her baby crying now, calling to her, as it always did when the wind blew.
The dark void in her mind opened, and she remembered.
There had been another night, many years ago. She had been carrying a baby that night, and it had been crying.
And then she had lost the baby.
Maybe tonight she would find it.
Find it, and make it stop crying.
She plunged ahead into the darkness, oblivious to the blackness that surrounded her, following only the voice that was guiding her.
“Baby?” she called. “Baby, where are you? It’s Mama, come to get you.”
There was a sound ahead, and then a tiny light glowed.
“Miss Diana?” Jay-Jay called softly. “Miss Diana, is that you?”
“I’m coming, baby.” Diana’s voice floated toward her in the darkness. “Mama’s come back for you. Mama wouldn’t leave you here.”
The light came nearer, and suddenly Diana could see the face.
It was the face of a child, and it was crying.
In her mind the old memories stirred once more.
“Good babies don’t cry.”
In the darkness Diana reached out, and soon there was silence.
With the baby’s crying blessedly stilled, Diana Amber left the mine and began walking home.
Esperanza Rodriguez, in the tiny cabin, had heard nothing. Since she had stepped out of the cabin a little while ago and seen Christie Lyons running down the hill, she had been on her knees, praying for Juan.
Praying that soon they would realize that her son had done nothing and release him.
Perhaps, if God listened to her, it would even happen tomorrow…
18
Christie burst through the front door, tears streaming from her eyes, her face smudged with dirt. She stopped in the foyer, trying to catch her breath, and it was there that Edna Amber found her. She led the sobbing child into the living room and seated herself on the sofa, Christie beside her.
“What happened, child?” she asked. Christie shuddered and rubbed at her eyes with her fists.
“Aunt Diana,” she whispered. “I was running home, and I … I saw her.”
“Where?”
“Up the hill. On the way to the mine. She was talking, and at first I thought she was talking to me, but she wasn’t, Miss Edna. She wasn’t!”
“Who was she talking to?” Edna asked, her voice quavering with a growing fear.
“I don’t know,” Christie wailed. “A baby. It was like she was talking to a baby.”
Edna sighed heavily and patted Christie. “All right,” she said. “You go up and wash your face, then go to bed.”
Christie looked at her, her eyes wide. “I’m scared,” she whispered. “I’m so scared.”
“Do as I say,” Edna told her, and there was an edge to her voice that made Christie obey. But before Christie left the room, Edna spoke once more. “Christie?” The little girl turned to face her. “Christie,” Edna repeated, her voice low and urgent. “You must never tell anybody what happened tonight. Do you understand me?”
Christie stared at the old woman for a long time, trying to decide what she meant. Not talk about what? Going to the mine? Seeing Aunt Diana? What? Finally she decided that Miss Edna must mean everything that had happened. Silently she nodded her head, then went upstairs. Fifteen minutes later she was in the crib, curled up with her knees against her chest, her thumb in her mouth, trying to understand what was happening to her. It was impossible.
Edna was waiting for Diana in the foyer, and as her daughter came in, the old woman looked at her sharply. Her eyes, as they had been earlier that evening, were glazed and empty.
“Diana? Are you all right?”
Diana smiled peacefully. “I’m fine, Mama. Everything’s all right now, and I’m fine. My baby’s stopped crying.”
A chill passed through Edna, but she said nothing, sure that until the wind died down, Diana would remain lost in the depths of her own mind. Edna knew that when the spell was past, Diana would have no memory of it.
Diana kissed her mother’s cheek, then, her mind still peaceful with the knowledge that she had comforted her baby, she went upstairs to the nursery.
Christie lay huddled in the crib, a blanket wrapped around her, thumb
in her mouth. As Diana approached her, she shrank deeper into the crib.
“Baby? Baby, is something wrong? It’s Mama.”
Christie’s eyes, wide and frightened, peered up at her. Diana reached down to stroke Christie’s cheek, but the little girl flinched away from her, her heart pounding. Quietly Christie began to cry.
Diana froze. As the crying sounds reached her ears, the dark side of her mind responded. Her eyes suddenly clouded over, and her hand knotted into a fist.
“Stop that!” she hissed. “You aren’t supposed to cry. Do you hear me? Stop that!”
Christie trembled in the crib and tried desperately not to cry, but her fear was too great. A sob escaped her lips.
Diana’s fist flashed down, striking Christie in the ribs. She moaned and drew her body into a tight ball.
“Don’t you cry!” Diana’s voice rasped. “Don’t you dare cry!”
Again she raised her fist, and Christie clamped her hands over her mouth, determined to keep silent, knowing that if she screamed, it would only be worse.
Time after time Diana battered at the little girl, her voice sinking into guttural mutterings as an unreasoning fury drove her on.
And then, as Christie wondered if she were about to die, an eerie silence came over the house. The wind had stopped.
Christie lay still in the crib, her scream frozen in her throat. Above her, Diana’s face glowed in the moonlight; her eyes were slowly losing their manic glaze. She reached down and touched Christie’s bruised body.
“What happened?” she asked. “Christie, what happened?” But Christie, too terrified to respond, lay still, her legs pulled tightly up against her chest, her thumb in her mouth.
“Did the wind frighten you?” Diana asked. “But it’s all over now, sweetheart. Mama fixed it for you. Mama will always fix it.”
Then she was gone, and Christie heard the lock click into place. She lay staring into the darkness, wanting more than anything in the world to run away. But she was too frightened to move.
* * *
Edna sat in the living room, her eyes fixed unseeingly on the television, an unopened magazine on her lap. Sometime during the night, she was sure, the telephone was going to ring.
As the silence lengthened she began to believe that perhaps it wouldn’t Perhaps, as Diana had said, everything was all right. She glanced upward, wondering what was happening upstairs. The house was strangely still, and Edna suddenly realized that the wind had died down.
And then the telephone rang. As Edna stood up to answer it, her magazine fell unnoticed from her lap.
“Yes.” she said. Everything was not all right, after all.
Dan Gurley’s voice seemed to drift over the line from a great distance.
“Miss Edna? Is Miss Diana there?”
“She’s gone to bed. Can I help you?”
“I don’t know. Reverend Jennings called me a few minutes ago. Jay-Jay appears to be missing.”
Edna’s lips tightened, but when she spoke, her voice was flat, emotionless. “What has that got to do with us?”
“I’ve done some checking around, and it seems some of the kids were planning to go out to the mine tonight.” Gurley paused, and when he got no response, went on. “As far as I know, only Jay-Jay actually went.”
Edna’s mind worked furiously, but she needed time to think. “Perhaps you’d better come out here, Daniel,” she said at last.
There was another pause, then the marshal spoke again. “I’ll be there in ten minutes, Miss Edna.”
Edna hung up the phone and went to the bottom of the stairs.
“Diana? Diana!” Her cane crashed against the banister, resounding through the house. Getting no reply, Edna mounted the stairs, moving as fast as her stiff legs would allow. She went to Diana’s room and entered without knocking. Sitting in bed, a peaceful smile on her face, was Diana.
Edna’s eyes blazed with fury as she stared at her daughter, but Diana remained impassive, her gaze expressionless.
“Mama? What is it?”
“Get up,” Edna told her. “Daniel Gurley is on his way out here, and he wants to talk to you.”
Diana frowned slightly, but got out of bed. “What could he want at this hour?”
“I’m sure he’ll tell you,” Edna replied.
Five minutes later Dan Gurley arrived. Without waiting to be invited, he went into the parlor, then waited for the two women to seat themselves.
“Did you see Jay-Jay tonight?” he asked at last.
“Certainly not,” Edna snapped. “If I had, I would have called you, and her parents, too.”
“Diana? Did you see her?”
“No,” Diana said. “I was out with Bill Henry tonight.”
“What about Christie?” Dan asked.
“She was here with me all evening,” Edna replied.
“May I talk to her?”
“What on earth for?” The old woman stood up. “It’s bad enough having you disturb us at this hour,” she said. “I won’t have you upsetting Christie, too.”
Dan hesitated, then gave in, realizing that even if he argued, Miss Edna would not be moved. Besides, finding Jay-Jay was, for the moment at least, more important than arguing with the Ambers. “All right,” he said. “Sorry to have disturbed you. I’ll just go on up to the mine and have a look around.”
A few minutes later, when Dan was gone and they were alone, Edna faced Diana.
“What happened up there tonight?” she asked.
Diana looked puzzled. “Where?”
“At the mine. You went up there, Diana.”
“I didn’t,” Diana insisted. “Bill brought me home, I said good night to Christie, and I went to bed.”
“That’s not true, Diana.” There was desperation in the old woman’s voice now. “Diana, did you do something to Jay-Jay Jennings?”
Diana shook her head, totally baffled. “Mama, we don’t even know if anything’s happened to Jay-Jay. She’s probably already home.”
“I hope so,” Edna said darkly. “For your sake, I hope so.”
“What do you mean, ‘for my sake’? Mama, what are you talking about?”
“I don’t want to send you to the hospital again, Diana. But I might have to.”
“The hospital?” What was she talking about? “But, Mama, why?”
“A child died, Diana, and another one is missing.”
Diana stepped back from her mother. “Mama—you don’t think—you can’t—”
“Listen to me, Diana,” Edna said. “I want to protect you. I’ve always wanted to protect you. But how can I? You won’t let me!” Her voice rose. “You’ve never let me!”
Now Diana’s voice rose, too.
“Protect me from what, Mama? What have I done that you want to protect me from?” Suddenly she knew. “You mean my baby?” she asked, her voice low.
Edna paled. “He told you.”
“Yes, Mama, Bill told me. Is that what you think you’ve been protecting me from all these years? My own memory?”
Edna sank onto the sofa and stared up at her daughter. She had made a mistake, telling Dr. Henry about the baby. Now she tried to think. How much did Diana know? Only, Edna was sure, as much as she had told the doctor. She let herself relax a little. “Maybe I should have told you,” she said softly. “But it was so many years ago.…”
“You mean maybe it doesn’t matter anymore, Mother?” Diana asked. “God, Mother, it was my baby!”
“It was nobody’s baby,” Edna shouted. She glowered at Diana, her hands shaking as she clutched her cane. “It was born dead!”
Diana, her face pale, sank into a chair. “Tell me about it,” she said.
“There’s nothing to tell,” her mother replied. “It was born dead, and that’s all there is to it.”
“That’s not all there is to it,” Diana cried. “For God’s sake, Mother, can’t you understand? All my life I’ve wanted to have a baby, and now, when I’m fifty, I find out that I had one, and you say
that’s all there is to it?”
Edna shook her head sadly. “Why dig it up now, Diana?” she asked. “It happened so many years ago.”
“And for so many years,” Diana replied, “I’ve been so unhappy. What else happened to me that you never told me about, Mother? Besides the fact that you used to beat me.”
Edna glared at her. “I never—”
“You did, Mother. I remembered. Up at the mine, when I was with Christie and Jeff, I remembered. You blamed me for my father’s death, didn’t you? And you beat me.”
Her face ashen, Edna rose to her feet. “How dare you?” she demanded. “How dare you talk to your mother that way?”
“But it’s true, isn’t it?” Diana demanded.
“Maybe it is!” Edna drew herself up and seemed to tower over Diana. “You were an evil child, Diana, but I raised you as best I could. And don’t you ever forget that I’m still your mother, and I still know what’s best for you. I always have, and I always will. But that’s never been enough for you, has it? No matter what I’ve done, you’ve always resented me. Well, maybe I should have let you marry Bill Henry; let you have more children!”
“Maybe you should have,” Diana whispered.
Edna raised her hand and struck her daughter. “So they could die, too? Never!”
Stunned, feeling the blood rushing to her cheek, Diana stared at her mother, and as she gazed into Edna’s angry blue eyes, a memory stirred in her.
Just for a moment, she heard a baby crying.
“It wasn’t born dead,” she whispered. “My baby wasn’t born dead, was it?”
Again Edna struck Diana.
“Don’t say that,” she hissed. “Don’t you ever say that again. It was dead, Diana! Do you hear me? It was born dead!”
But as she made her way up the stairs a few minutes later, her hand held to the cheek where Edna had slapped her, the thought remained in Diana’s mind.
It wasn’t dead.
My baby wasn’t dead.
She repeated it to herself over and over again as she bathed her cheek with cool water and the pain slowly subsided.
But if it wasn’t born dead, what happened to it?
She went to her room and undressed, slipping into her nightgown.