I had just closed my eyes and begun to drift off when I heard her scream. At first I thought it was the preamble to a dream. It was so muffled and quick, but then I heard it again and I sat up. She was in the hallway.
What now? I wondered, rose, put on my bathrobe and slippers and opened the door.
She was sitting on the hallway floor in front of her bedroom. Her head was lowered and supported by her hands with her elbows on her legs. She was in her bra and panties. Mama's door was shut. Betsy sobbed softly and gasped before looking up at me.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"All my clothes. My nice things, my jeans and blouses... they're all gone. Go in there and look at what's hanging in my closet instead."
I looked at Mama's bedroom door, then I walked slowly across the hall stepping past Betsy and into her room. Incredibly, despite the outburst. Panther was still fast asleep. The light was on and the closet door was open. I looked in and saw some of the dresses and skirts I knew had been stored in the turret room. They were faded. old garments with high collars, long hemlines and bland colors.
"What did she do with my things?" Betsy asked from the doorway.. She stood there with her arms folded under her breasts.
I shook my head.
"Now you can see for yourself that she's out of control."
"You can ask her in the morning."
"I don't want to wait until morning. I want my things back now." She turned toward Mama's bedroom door.
"Don't wake her. She'll be angry that you're waking her and Baby Celeste as well, who will surely wake up."
Betsy hesitated. "What will she do, fine me?"
"Maybe, You're doing so well. Don't mess things up. Soon, you'll get more privileges and--"
"What more? I don't have any!" she cried.
I looked at the clothes in the closet again. Once. I had secretly put on a few of these garments up in the turret room. I thought. For me it had been exciting and wonderful,
"What is she trying to turn me into?" Betsy asked as she came back into her room. "She even took my shoes and put those ugly clodhoppers in my closet.. Where does she get the nerve? Where does she get the ideas?" she asked frantically.
What was I going to say? What would I tell her that would make sense to her? "I'm sure she's doing what she thinks is good for you." I replied instead.
Betsy shook her head at me. "Isn't there anything she does that makes you angry?" "If she does, she doesn't mean it."
"Sure. Sure. She doesn't mean it." Betsy wiped the tears off her cheeks.
Panther whimpered.
"You don't want to wake the baby. You better get some rest," I said. "We have a big day ahead of us. The house has so many windows, and she likes to do the inside and the outside of each, as well as the sills and the frames."
"I thought I was doing what she wanted," Betsy told me, her lips quivering. "I gave up. I decided to do her stupid chores and do them well, but look what she did to me." She nodded at the closet. "This is my reward."
I said nothing. I started out of the room. She grabbed my arm and brought her face close to mine.
"I can't stand her," she whispered. Her fingers were squeezing tightly. "Don't do anything you'll regret. Betsy," I warned her. "Please."
She released my arm and went to her bed. She lowered herself slowly and then just fell to her side. She made no sound, but her shoulders shook with her silent sobs. I stared at her for a few more moments and then walked out, closing her door softly behind me. Mama was standing in her doorway.
She saw me come out of Betsy's room, but she said nothing.
Then she backed into her bedroom and closed her door. too. I returned to my room and got back into bed. After my eyes grew used to the darkness again. I heard a rustling near the window.
He was standing there staring at me.
Your mother is making it easier for me. you know," he said, "Easier for me to return." I held my breath.