I could actually feel the floor trembling beneath me. Of course, that came from my own unsteady legs.
Mama turned slowly and looked from Brenda to me, her eyes dark with sadness.
"He was dying," she said. "He wanted to keep it a secret from us. That's why he left us like that."
"Why?" I asked, unable to control my streaking tears. "Why was he so mean to us?"
"So we would hate him," Brenda said.
I turned and looked down at her. "What did you say?"
"So we would hate him and not suffer. That was why he took away all the pictures of himself he could find, and why we can't find the family vacation videos. He tried to die for us before he really did. I'm right. aren't I. Mama?"
Mama nodded.
"But now." Brenda said for all of us. "we'll suffer more because of how any we were at him."
Mama lowered her head. It was as much as confirming what Brenda predicted. Our true suffering had yet to begin, and what it would do to all of us was something we couldn't anticipate.
I pressed my hand to my heart to keep it from pumping through my chest.
And Brenda, lifted with new rage, stomped out of the room to cry where no one could see.
5 Conspiracy of Silence
. All of this had left me feeling very frightened. There was no question that despite what Daddy had done, the very thought of his death continued to rattle my bones and make my heart tremble. Afterward. I was afraid to close my eyes and sleep because of the impending nightmares. None of us was able to get much sleep. I heard Mama moving about the house very late at night. It sounded as if she was opening and closing drawers in the office. Brenda didn't come out of her room and I didn't go out to see what Mama was doing,.
Some time before morning. I did finally fall asleep. I woke right after the sunlight brightened the edges of my shaded window. Passing clouds made it seem like God himself was taking pictures of the earth with a flashbulb on his camera. Each click of brief brightness finally nudged my eyelids open.
I rose slowly and listened for the sounds of Brenda or Mama or both. I heard nothing, not a peep. It was as if the house itself were holding its breath, awaiting the next bit of shocking news. I scrubbed my face vigorously with my dry palms to bring some blood to it and wake myself even more. Then I rose, put on my robe, and slid into my slippers. When I stepped into the hallway. I saw Mama's bedroom door was open. Gazing in. I realized she was up, and so I started for the kitchen. Brenda's door opened, and she, also in her robe and slippers, came out.
"Mama up?" she asked. "Yes," I said. "but I don't hear her. Maybe she's gone somewhere."
Worried that she had left without us to find Daddy, we went looking for her quickly and found her still dressed in her nightgown and sitting in the kitchen, her hands around a mug of coffee. She looked up at us, her eyes so full of fatigue and sadness they looked as if they might slam shut forever and ever. Her hair fell wildly about her face. She gazed at us with a distant look that frightened us both.
"Mama?" Brenda asked. "Are you all right?"
"I've decided there's no point in pursuing all these people who seem to have been involved in your father's conspiracy of silence," she began. "I started to look for more evidence of what he had done, and then I stopped and realized what difference does it make anyway now? I want to go directly to that facility to see him."
"We do. too," Brenda said quickly. "Yes, Mama."
She nodded. "You girls have breakfast, dress, and each pack a small bag for overnight or so just in case. We'll go right away." she said. "Brenda, you'll drive. I don't feel up to it," she said in her take-charge voice. "Of course. Mama."
"While you're having breakfast. I'll start getting dressed," she said, rising.
"I'm not hungry," Brenda said.
"Make yourself something, if it's just some toast. It's a long trip. Brenda. We're going to need strength for the journey and... for what's to come," she added.
Brenda nodded. Neither she nor I needed to be told exactly what that meant. Mama walked toward us, paused, and then reached out, her arms embracing us both and pulling us toward her. She held us for a moment.
"Thank God for you two," she whispered, and then let go and went to her bedroom.
Brenda didn't shed a tear. She glanced at my tear-streaked face and went right to work getting us juice and preparing some toast and soft-boiled eggs. I set the kitchenette table, and she poured herself some coffee. I did. too. Neither of us spoke. It was good to have things to do, to keep ourselves moving and busy.
We ate quickly, almost in total silence, just asking each other for the salt and pepper. After we finished. I asked Brenda how long she thought the ride would take. She estimated five hours. She told me to go shower. She would look after cleaning up.
"What should I wear?" I asked her. For a moment. I thought she was going to laugh at the question, but then she looked thoughtful. After all, we were going to see Daddy in a hospital, maybe for the last time.