"What?" she finally said. turning.
"The rugs are very nice. I was just saving how warm and wonderful the house is going to be when you're finished with your redecorating."
"No." She shook her head. "It's not warm and wonderful. -We're in some danger."
"Danger? In our house?" How could we be in danger in the house? The house was our sanctuary."
She hurried past me and out of the room. I heard her rummaging about in the kitchen. then I heard her start for the stairway.
"Mama?" I said, stepping into the hallway. "What are you doing?"
She paused and turned to me. For a moment she just stared at me, her eyes blinking rapidly.
"Take the baby out for a while." she said. "Out? Take her out?"
"It's dark enough. Take her over toward the shed, away from the front of the house. Go on. Do it. Noble. Her little sweater is on the sofa.Ill call you when I want you to come back inside with her."
"Okay," I said, and watched her charge up the stairway.
Baby Celeste couldn't be happier. She clapped her hands with joy when I carried her out of the house. I walked toward the shed and the gardens just as Mama had commanded, and then I set Baby Celeste down, folded my arms over my strappeddown bosom, and looked back at the house.
Twilight draped a dark gray veil around us. To me this time of day always looked sad. It was as if the sun were caught in indecision. Should it go? Should it stay? Reluctantly, it would soon blink and sink below the mountains. Did it drown every day and was it resurrected every morning?
Baby Celeste tugged on my hand. She realized we had a limited time in the softened light and she was hungry for everything she could see. I walked about with her, talking and showing her plants we were growing, wildflowers, and even milkweeds. Her curiosity was limitless. She was so taken pith insects that she almost grabbed a bumblebee.
Periodically. I paused and looked back at the house. All of the rooms were still in
darkness. What could Mama be doing? More and more stars appeared in the night sky. It was getting cooler and cooler. The wind came in from the north. I could hear it threading its way through the forest, rushing toward us. When would Mama call to us? I was trembling now from both the cooler air and her strange behavior.
Suddenly. I saw a glow building in the living room. It grew brighter and brighter, but not as it would if Mama had turned on the lamps. This was different. The light flickered, too.
Candles! I thought. She has lit candles. But so many in one room? Why?
I lifted Baby Celeste into my arms and slowly walked back to the house. Just as I reached the porch steps. Mama came out, closing the door behind her. She leaned back against it. Although we were standing right before her, her gaze went past us or even through us. Actually, she looked like a blind woman.
"Mama? What are you doing? Shouldn't we go in for dinner? It's getting late for the baby. Mama?" I said in a raised voice when she didn't respond.
She blinked rapidly and looked at us. When she shifted a little to the right, the illumination was enough for me to see how flushed her face had become. She continued to stare without speaking.
"Mama?"
"Take her inside but don't go into the living room until I tell you. Now," she said. stamping. I felt myself jump inside as if I had another whole body under the one people saw,
She stepped aside and I opened the door and carried Baby Celeste in' . I hesitated just enough at the living room doorway to look in. I had never seen Mama do something like this as extensively. Set up all over the living room were pictures of all the ancestors we had, at least two dozen pictures. Before each picture, she had placed a black candle. I realized she had formed a circle with the pictures, but what surprised and even shocked me more was seeing the small ebony wood box in the center of the floor.
"Go into the kitchen," Mama ordered. and I moved quickly, not saying a word. Her voice sounded on the verge of hysteria. Even Baby Celeste looked speechless.
Mama said nothing about what she had done in the living room and I was afraid to ask her about it. Seeing the small candle illuminating the photograph of each family member gave me an eerie feeling. I knew she had performed some ritual meant to draw out their spiritual power to overcome something terrible released by opening the small black wooden box. Since I had done it. I was afraid I'd be blamed for whatever she believed had happened and could happen.
Mama worked on dinner in that
deep silence she could reach. a silence that seemed to take her away. She came up out of it occasionally to give me an order to do this or that with the bread, the vegetables, or to set the table.
Dinner was almost as quiet. Although I did get her talking about some of the other changes she was making in the house. I avoided any reference to the living room or the wooden box. I saw the way her eyes drifted toward the living room from time to time. Apparently she was waiting for something, some signal, herself. Just before we finished eating, that signal obviously came and her expression brightened. Her whole body, stiff and tense for the last hour or so. relaxed.
"I have to put things away. Noble," she told me. "Clear off the table and carefully stack the dishes. Keep the baby occupied, too."
She rose and went to the living room.