Ruby

  He laughed and hurried on to join a pack of students who had gathered to wait at the corner of the corridor. The collection of both girls and boys gazed over his shoulder to look at the photograph. A kind of paralyzing numbness gripped me. I felt as if my legs had been nailed to the floor. Suddenly, Gisselle joined the group.

  "Make sure you tell everyone it's my sister and not me," she quipped, and everyone laughed. She smiled at me and continued on, arm and arm with Martin.

  My tears clouded my vision. Everything looked out of focus or hazy. Even Beau coming down the corridor toward me, a look of concern on his face, seemed distant and distorted. I felt something within me crack and suddenly, a shrill scream flowed out of my mouth. Every single person in the corridor, including some teachers, froze and looked my way.

  "Ruby!" Beau called.

  I shook my head, denying the reality of what was taking place before me. Some students were laughing; some were smiling. Few looked worried or unhappy.

  "You . . animals!" I cried. "You mean, cruel . animals!"

  I turned and threw my books down and just lunged at the nearest exit.

  "RUBY!" Beau cried after me, but I shot through the door and ran down the steps. He came after me, but I was running as hard and as fast as I had ever run. I nearly got hit by a car when I sprinted across the street. The driver put on his brakes and brought it to a screeching stop, but I didn't pause. I ran on and on, not even looking where I was going. I ran until I felt a dozen needles in my side and then, with my lungs bursting, I finally slowed down and collapsed behind an old, large oak tree on someone's front lawn. There, I sobbed and sobbed until my well of tears ran dry and my chest ached with the heaving and crying.

  I closed my eyes and tried to imagine myself far away. I saw myself back in the bayou, floating in a pirogue through the canal on a warm, clear spring day.

  The clouds above me now disappeared. The grayness of the New Orleans day was replaced by the sunshine in my memory. As my pirogue floated closer to the shore, I heard Grandmere Catherine singing behind the house. She was hanging up some clothes she had washed.

  "Grandmere," I called. She leaned to the right and saw me. Her smile was so bright and alive. She looked so young and so beautiful to me.

  "Grandmere;" I muttered with my eyes still shut tight. "I want to go home. I want to be back in the bayou, living with you. I don't care how poor we were or how hard things were for us. I was still happier. Grandmere, please, make it all right again. Don't be dead and gone. Perform one of your rituals and erase time. Make all this just a nightmare. Let me open my eyes and be beside you in the loom room, working. I'll count to three and it will be true. One. . . two. ."

  "Hey, there," I heard a man call. I opened my eyes. "What do you think you're doing?" An elderly man with wild snow white hair stood in the doorway of the house in front of which I had collapsed. He waved a black cane toward me. "What do you want here?"

  "I was just resting, sir," I said.

  "This isn't a park, you know," he said. He looked at me more closely. "Shouldn't you be in school?" he demanded.

  "Yes, sir," I said and got up. "I'm sorry," I said, and walked off quickly. When I reached the corner, I gathered my bearings and hurried up the next street. Realizing how close I was, I headed for home. When I arrived, Daddy and Daphne were already gone.

  "Mademoiselle Ruby?" Edgar said, opening the door and looking out at me. This time I couldn't hide my tear-streaked face or pretend to be all right. He tightened his face into an expression of concern and anger. "Come along," he ordered. I followed him through the corridor to the kitchen. "Nina," he said as soon as we entered. Nina turned around and took one look at me and then at him. She nodded.

  "She'll be fine with me," she said, and Edgar, looking satisfied, left. Nina drew closer.

  "What happened?" she demanded.

  "Oh, Nina," I cried. "No matter what I do, she finds a way to hurt me."

  Nina nodded.

  "No more. You come with Nina now. This will be stopped. Wait here," she commanded, and left me in the kitchen. I heard her go down the corridor to the stairway. After a minute or so, she returned and took my hand. I thought she was going to take me back to her room again for one of her voodoo rituals. But she surprised me. She threw off her apron and led me to the back door.

  "Where are we going, Nina?" I asked as she hurried me through the yard to the street.

  "To see Mama Dede. You need very strong gris-gris. Only Mama Dede can do it. Just one thing, child," she said, stopping at the corner and drawing her face closer to mine, her black eyes wide with excitement. "Do not tell Monsieur and Madame Dumas where I'm taking you, okay? This will be our secret only, okay?"

  "Who is . ?"

  "Mama Dede, voodoo queen of all New Orleans now."

  "What is Mama Dede going to do?"

  "Get your sister to stop hurting you. Drive Papa La Bas out of her heart. Make her be good. You want that?"

  "Yes, Nina. I want that," I said.

  "Then swear to keep the secret. Swear."

  "I swear, Nina."

  "Good. Come," she said, and started us down the walk again. I was just angry enough to go anywhere and do anything she wanted.

  We took the streetcar and then got off and took a bus to a rundown section of the city in which I had never been, nor even seen. The buildings looked no better than shacks. Black children, most too young to go to school, played on the scarred and bald front yards. Broken-down cars and some that looked like they were about to break down were parked along the streets. The sidewalks were dirty, the gutters full of cans, bottles, and paper. Here and there a lone sycamore or magnolia tree struggled to battle the abused surroundings. To me this looked like a place where the sun itself hated to shine. No matter how bright the day, everything still looked tarnished, rusted, faded.

  Nina hurried us along the sidewalk until we reached a shack house no better or no worse than any of the others. The windows all had dark shades drawn and the sidewalk, steps, and even the front door were chipped and cracked. Above the front door hung a string of bones and feathers.

  "The queen lives here?" I asked, astounded. I had been expecting another mansion.

  "She sure do," Nina said. We went down the narrow walk to the front door and Nina turned the bell key. After a moment a very old black woman, toothless, her hair so thin, I could see the shape and color of her scalp, opened the door and peered out. She wore what looked like a potato sack to me. Stooped, her shoulders turned in sharply, she lifted her tired eyes to gaze at Nina and me. I didn't think she was any more than four feet tall. She wore a pair of men's sneakers, stained, without laces, and no socks.

  "Must see Mama Dede," Nina said. The old lady nodded and stepped back so we could enter the small house. The walls were cracked and peeling. The floor looked like it had once been covered with carpet that had just recently been ripped up. Here and there pieces of it remained glued or tacked to the slats. The aroma of something very sweet flowed from the rear of the house. The old lady gestured toward a room on the left and Nina took my hand and we entered.

  A half-dozen large candles provided the light. The room looked like a store. It was that full of charms and bones, dolls, and bunches of feathers, hair, and snakeskins. One wall was covered with shelves and shelves of jars of powders. And there were cartons of different color candles on the floor along the far wall.

  In the midst of all this clutter were a small settee and two torn easy chairs, the springs popped out of the bottom of one. Between the chairs and the settee was a wooden box. Gold and silver shapes had been etched around it.

  "Sit," the old lady commanded. Nina nodded at the easy chair on our left and I went to it. She went to the other.

  "Nina. . ." I began.

  "Shh," she said and closed her eyes. "Just wait." A moment later, from somewhere else in the house, I heard the sound of a drum. It was a low, steady beat. I couldn't help but become nervous and afraid. Why had I allowed myself to be brought here
?

  Suddenly, the blanket that hung in the doorway in front of us parted and a much younger looking black woman appeared. She had long, silky black hair gathered in thick ropelike strands around her head, over which she wore a red tignon with seven knots whose points all stuck straight up. She was tall and wore a black robe that flowed all the way down to her bare feet. I thought she had a pretty face, lean with high cheekbones and a nicely shaped mouth, but when she turned to me, I shuddered. Her eyes were as gray as granite.

  She was blind.

  "Mama Dede, I come for big help," Nina said. Mama Dede nodded and entered the room, moving as if she weren't blind, swiftly and gracefully sitting herself on the settee. She folded her hands in her lap and waited, those seemingly dead eyes turning toward me. I didn't move; hardly breathed.

  "Speak of it, sister," she said.

  "This little girl here, she's got a twin sister, jealous and cruel, who does bad things to her causing much pain and grief."

  "Give me your hand," Mama Dede said to me, and held hers out. I looked at Nina who nodded. Slowly, I put mine into Mama Dede's. She closed her fingers firmly over mine. They felt hot.

  "Your sister," Mama Dede said to me. "You don't know her long and she don't know you long?"

  "Yes, that's right," I said amazed.

  "And your mother, she can't help you none?"

  No.

  "She be dead and gone to the other side," she said, nodding and then she released my hand and turned to Nina.

  "Papa La Bas, he eating on her sister's heart," Nina said. "Making her hateful, somethin' terrible. Now we got to protect this baby, Mama. She believes. Her grandmere was a Traiteur lady in the bayou."

  Mama Dede nodded softly and then held out her hand again, this time--palm up. Nina dug into her pocket and pulled out a silver dollar. She put it in Mama Dede's hand. Mama Dede closed her palm and then turned to the doorway where the old lady stood watching. She came forward and took the silver coin and dropped it in a pocket in her sack dress.

  "Burn two yellow candles," she prescribed. The old lady moved to the cartons and plucked out two yellow candles. She set them in holders and then lit their wicks. I thought that might be all there was to it, but suddenly, Mama Dede reached out and seized the top of the ornate box. She lifted it gently and put it beside her on the settee. Nina looked very happy. I waited as Mama Dede concentrated and then dipped her hands into the box. When she brought them up, I nearly fainted.

  She was clutching a young python snake. It seemed asleep, barely moving, its eyes just two slits. I gulped to keep down a scream as Mama Dede brought the snake to her face.

  Instantly, the snake's tongue jetted out and it licked her cheek. As soon as it had, Mama Dede returned it to the box and covered the box again.

  "From the snake, Mama Dede gets the power and the vision," Nina whispered. "Old legend say, first man and first woman entered the world blind and were given sight by the snake."

  "What's your sister's name, child?" Mama Dede asked. My tongue tightened. I was afraid to give it, afraid now that something terrible might occur.

  "You must be the one to give the name," Nina instructed. "Give Mama Dede the name."

  "Gisselle," I said. "But . ."

  "Eh! Eh bomba hen hen!" Mama Dede began to chant. As she chanted, she turned and twisted her body under the robe, writhing to the sound of the drum and the rhythm of her own voice.

  "Canga bafie te. Danga moune de te. Canga do ki Gisselle!" she ended with a shout.

  My heart was pounding so hard, I had to press the palm of my hand against my breast. Mama Dede turned toward Nina again. She reached into her pocket and produced what I recognized as one of Gisselle's hair ribbons. That was why she had first gone upstairs before we left. I wanted to reach out and stop her before she put it into Mama Dede's hand, but I was too late. The voodoo queen clutched it tightly.

  "Wait," I cried, but Mama Dede opened the box and dropped the ribbon into it.

  Then she writhed again and began a new chant.

  "L'appe vini, Le Grand Zombi. L'appe vini, pou fe gris-gds."

  "He is coming," Nina translated. "The Great Zombi, he is coming, to make gris-gris."

  Mama Dede paused suddenly and screamed a piercing cry that made my heart stop for a moment. I thought it had risen into my throat. I couldn't swallow; I could barely breathe. She froze and then she fell back against the settee, dropping her head to the side, her eyes closed. For a moment no one moved, no one spoke. Then Nina tapped me on the knee and nodded toward the door. I rose quickly. The old lady moved ahead and opened the front door for us.

  "Thank Mama, please, Grandmere," Nina said. The old lady nodded and we left.

  My heart didn't stop racing until we reached home again. Nina was so confident everything would be all right now. I couldn't imagine what to expect. But when Gisselle returned from school, she wasn't a bit changed. In fact, she bawled me out for running away and blamed me for everything that happened as a result.

  "Because you ran off like that, Beau got into a fight with Billy and they were both taken to the principal," she said, stopping in the doorway of my room. "Beau's parents have to come to school before he can return.

  "Everyone thinks you're crazy now. It was all just a joke. But I got called into the principal's office, too, and he's going to call Daddy and Mommy, thanks to you. Now we'll both be in trouble."

  I turned to her slowly, my heart so full of anger, I didn't think I would be able to speak without screaming. But I surprised myself and frightened her with the control in my voice.

  "I'm sorry Beau got into a fight and into trouble. He was only trying to protect me. But I'm not sorry about you.

  "It's true, I lived in a world that most would consider quite backward compared to the one you've lived in, Gisselle. And it's true the people are simpler and things happen that city people think are terrible, crude, and even immoral.

  "But the cruel things you've done to me and permitted others to do to me make anything I've seen in the bayou look like child's play. I thought we could be sisters, real sisters who looked out for each other and cared for each other, but you're determined to hurt me any way you can and whenever you can," I said. Tears were streaming down my cheeks now, despite my effort not to cry in front of her.

  "Sure," she replied, moans in her voice, too. "You're making me out to be the bad one now. But you're the one who just appeared on our doorstep and turned our world topsy-turvy. You're the one who got everyone to like you more than they like me. You stole Beau, didn't you?"

  "I didn't steal him. You told me you didn't care about him anymore anyway," I said.

  "Well . . . I don't, but I don't like someone stealing him away," she added. She stood there, fuming for a few moments. "You better not get me in trouble when the principal calls," she warned and marched off.

  Dr. Storm did call. After breaking up the fight between Beau and Billy, a teacher had taken the photograph and brought it to the principal. Dr. Storm told Daphne about the picture and she called Gisselle and me into the study just before dinner. She was so full of anger and embarrassment, her face looked distorted: her eyes large and furious, her mouth stretched into a grimace and her nostrils wide.

  "Which one of you allowed such a picture to be taken?" she demanded. Gisselle looked down quickly.

  "Neither of us allowed it, Mother," I said. "Some boys snuck into Claudine's house without any of us knowing and while I was changing into a costume for a game we were playing, they snapped the picture of me."

  "We're the laughingstock of the school community by now, I'm sure," she said. "And the Andreas have to see the principal. I just got off the phone with Edith Andreas. She's beside herself. This is the first time Beau has gotten into serious trouble. And all because of you," she accused.

  "But . ."

  "Did you do these sorts of things in the swamp?"

  "No. Of course not," I replied quickly.

  "I don't know how you get yourself involved in one terribl
e thing after another so quickly, but you apparently do. Until further notice, you are not to go anywhere, no parties, no dates, no expensive dinners, nothing. Is that understood?"

  I choked back my tears. Defending myself was useless. All she could see was how she had been disgraced.

  "Yes, Mother."

  "Your father doesn't know about this yet. I will tell him calmly when he returns. Go upstairs and remain in your room until it's time to come down for dinner."

  I left and went upstairs, feeling strangely numb. It was as if I didn't care anymore. She could do whatever she wanted to do to me. It didn't matter.

  Gisselle paused in my doorway on the way back to her room. She flashed a smile of selfsatisfaction, but I didn't say a word to her. That night, we had the quietest dinner since I had arrived. My father was subdued by his disappointment and by what I was sure was Daphne's rage. I avoided his eyes and was happy when Gisselle and I were excused. She couldn't wait to get to her telephone to spread the news of what had occurred.

  I went to sleep that night, thinking about Mama Dede, the snake, and the ribbon. How I wished there was something to it all. My desire for vengeance was that strong.

  But two days later, I regretted it.

  19

  Fate Keeps On

  Happening

  .

  The following morning I felt like a shadow of myself. With a heart that had a hollow thump, with legs that seemed to glide over the hallways and down the stairs, I went to breakfast. Martin came to take Gisselle to school, but she didn't ask me and I didn't want to go along with them. Beau had to go to school with his parents so I just walked to school, resembling someone in a trance--face forward, eyes moving neither left nor right.

  When I arrived at school, I felt like a pariah. Even Mookie was afraid to associate with me and didn't as usual, meet me at the locker before homeroom to chatter about home-work or television shows. I was the victim in all this, the one who had been horribly embarrassed, but no one seemed to feel sorry for me. It was almost as if I had contracted some terrible, infectious disease and instead of people worrying about me, they were worried about themselves.