At first I saw nothing, but as I approached it, I saw the greenish yellow layer over the railings and smelled the mix of herbs, the garlic, and lilac. Each scent in and of itself was tolerable, but the
combination Mama had created was so acrid and sharp, I nearly choked on the smell myself. Mama had created her formula and then apparently painted it on the crib. I knew she believed that certain herbs had protective powers and could be used to exorcise evil.
"He can't stand the stink and neither can I!" Betsy screamed. "What did she put on there?"
I wasn't sure exactly, but beside the garlic, the stench and some of the recipes I recalled suggested some wintergreen, some toadflax, snapdragon, and tamarisk. Mama created her own formulas, always expanding and improving on what had been handed down to her, so it was truly impossible to determine it all.
However, it wasn't hard to see the baby was uncomfortable. He squirmed to avoid the odors that flowed over him. I looked back through the open doorway. Mama had still not risen and come out of her room. I couldn't stand by and watch this. The baby's face was contorted. I reached in, lifted him out, and brought him to Betsy.
"He'll quiet down if he sleeps with you," I told her.
Then I pushed the crib farther away from her bed, closer to the windows. One of the candles, as if in disapproval, flickered and went out. Throughout it all, my heart thumped and raced, pounded and knocked, with my fear of being discovered. Almost immediately. however, Panther stopped crying. His sobs ran down to a whimpering, and then in moments, probably out of exhaustion, he fell asleep.
"Thanks," Betsy said.
I said nothing. I just nodded and slipped quietly out of her room, closing the door ever so softly. Then I waited to be sure Mama hadn't seen me before I hurried back to my own room. In the morning at breakfast. Betsy let loose a torrent of complaints about the things Mama had done. Mama didn't stop her. Of course, I was terrified Betsy would mention what I had done, but she didn't, either because she didn't care to give me credit for helping her or she knew I would be in trouble. Mama didn't appear to be listening. She ate quietly and gave all her attention to Baby Celeste.
However, when Betsy finally stopped, Mama nodded, smiled, and said, "After you clean up the breakfast dishes, you can go upstairs and wash down the crib. It was only good for one night."
"What was only good? What was that stink?" Betsy screamed.
"It's not important for you to know. I doubt you would appreciate it anyway. I'm going into the village today. Would you like to visit your father's grave? I won't be heading in that direction often so you should take advantage of this opportunity."
"No," Betsy said. "What for? He can't hear me, and if he could, he'd be sorry anyway because of what I would have to say."
"Oh, he can hear you. And I'm sure he's already sorry. I'll pick up things for the baby."
"He's name is Panther. Panther. Call him by his name."
"Panther," Mama said with a smile. "You know, I'm beginning to like it."
She couldn't have said anything more annoying to Betsy than that. It was just too much for Betsy to accept that she had done anything to please Mama. and Mama seemed to know it. Betsy won't be any sort of match for her now either. I thought. She was already defeated, but she simply didn't know it or know how much. It wouldn't be long before she would understand that and then... what then?
Would she become one of us, or would she wither and die like her father?
We were all in a garden of one kind or another, I thought. Some of them were of our own ch
oosing, some were places in which we found ourselves transplanted. In the end it was always the same: dust unto dust.
Betsy looked to me, her eyes no longer full of anger, but now, perhaps because of my actions the night before, full of pleading. I could hear her crying for my help, but Mama's eyes were on me. too.
I returned to my work, and later Mama brought out Baby Celeste.
"I'm leaving now. Don't you dare do any of the work for that girl that I have assigned her. She carries her own weight around here or else."
"Yes, Mama."
"You're a good boy, Noble, and your goodness will so shine in contrast to her laziness and
wastefulness, she can do nothing else but improve herself. Remember that."
"I will."
"Good. I'll be back in a few hours at most. Watch over our precious Baby Celeste."
I always do. I wanted to say, but I just nodded. Soon after Mama left, I heard and saw Betsy emerge from the house carrying a bag of garbage. She put it in the container and looked my way. I concentrated on my work, but I could feel her eves lingering on me.
"Betsy," Baby Celeste said. I turned and saw she was approaching us.