pack is all melted."
"I don't want you leaving him, Celeste. Empty
the water out of the ice pack and fill it with ice cubes
again. Keep it on the bruise. You and I are going to
have to take care of him until he mends," she said. "But... why are you cutting the tree?" I asked.
She looked up at it and then turned back to me. "It's touched by evil now she said. "We have to
get rid of it." She started the saw again, but I heard her
add. "We have to get rid of anything that welcomes
the evil. Get back upstairs and stay with your
brother!" she shouted at me.
I backed away, watched her for a few more
moments, and then ran into the house. For a long
moment I just stood in the entryway, catching my
breath. Then I went upstairs, fetched the ice pack, and
did what she had told me to do. Noble didn't wake up
for hours, and when he did, he was very
uncomfortable and very unhappy.
"Where's Mommy?" he asked. "I want
Mommy."
"She's outside cutting down the tree just
because you fell out of it," I said. and because you
said you felt someone push you."
"Cutting down the tree?"
"Listen. You can hear the chain saw." "I don't want her to cut my tree."
"You can thank yourself for that. Noble." Finally, the sound of the chain saw stopped.
Noble started to squirm, and I stopped him.
"Mommy said you shouldn't move, and
especially not your broken leg."
"But I have to pee," he said.
It didn't occur to me until that moment that his
going to the bathroom was going to be a big problem.
What would we do?
"I have to pee!" he said again.
"I'll go tell Mommy. Please don't move, or
she'll blame me, Noble. Please." I pleaded and hurried
out and down the stairs.
Mommy was standing beside the fallen tree, the
chain saw still in her hand. Her hair was wild, and she
had chips and sawdust stuck to her face.
"Noble has to pee," I said. "What should we
do?"
"Go get an empty bottle in the pantry and let
him pee into it," she told me.
"What?"
"Do it. Its easy for a boy. You'll see," she said.
She tugged at the chain saw cord. She was so
determined. She had killed the tree, and she would cut
it up and get it away from us.
I stood there, stunned, for a moment, and then I
went back inside and looked for a bottle with a neck wide enough. I found an empty cranberry juice bottle. Still shocked by her orders. I went back upstairs.
Noble was moaning.
"Mommy wants you to pee into this." I said and
showed him.
He stopped moaning and looked at me with his
eye-brows scrunching just the way mine often did.
There really was so much about our faces that was
similar.
"I can't," he said.
"She says you can. She says its easy for boys to
do." He shook his head.
"That's what she says," I added and handed him
the bottle.
He looked at it, and then he brought it down
between his legs. I turned my back. but I could hear
the pee going into the bottle.
"I'm finished," he said and held it up. Ugh, was all I could think. I took it from him
and hurried into the bathroom to dump it into the
toilet.
"What happens when I have to do number
two?" he asked. and I turned red and nauseous at the
thought of it. I just shook my head.
"I don't know." I said.
He closed his eyes and periodically moaned
about the pain and how he wanted to turn over or get
out of bed. His whining seemed never-ending. Finally
Mommy came in and up to the room, and he directed
all of his complaints at her in shotgun fashion, "It hurts, I want to turn. I want to get out of bed.
I don't like peeing in a jar. How am I going to do
number two? Can I play with my trains?"
"Stubborn in, happiness out." Mommy said.
"No one told you to climb that tree. You should have
listened to me."
She checked his splint and looked at his toes. "I'm going to make you a cast." she said. "and
you're going to have to be like this for a long time.
Noble. If you don't listen and obey, you'll make it
worse, and you might never walk or run again
properly and certainly never run again. do you
understand?"
"It hurts." he said.
"It will hurt, and that is good because it will
remind you how important it is to listen to what I tell
you to do and not to do. I'm going down to make you
something to eat. Celeste will read to you to help you
take your mind off it she said, looking at me. "I don't want her reading to me. I want--" "What you want doesn't matter now." Mommy
said calmly. "Just do what I tell you, and we'll make
you better," she added and kissed him on the cheek.
"Read to him." she ordered.
At the doorway she paused to voice her own
thoughts.
"First they take Taylor." she said. "and then
they try to take you." She looked at me. "See why you
must be vigilant, Celeste. This is partly your fault.
You should have paid more attention to him. You
have to heip me."
"I did. Mommy. I told him to come down from
the tree and not to climb higher."
"I don't mean that, Celeste. I mean the darkness,
the shadows, the evil. You must watch for it always,"
she said. "You have been blessed. You have been
given the eyes. Use them!" she commanded and left
us.
I sat thinking for a few moments. How was it
my fault? Was there something I had seen and
forgotten to tell her? A shadow, a shape, even a
strange sound?
"Mommy said read to me," Noble said
suddenly, folding his arms across his chest. "I thought you didn't like it when I read to you.
I thought it was boring."
"Mommy said." he repeated. "She said you
could help stop it from hurting," he added.
Could I? I wondered.
Maybe I could.
Maybe I did have the eyes.
I began with chapter one of Alice in
Wonderland, and before I had read five pages, Noble
was asleep again.
And he wasn't in pain.
7
Into the Woods
.
While Noble slept. Mommy left to get what she
needed to make his cast. Of course. I couldn't go along. She told me that it would be this way for a long time now. Whenever she went to shop for things we needed, she would have to leave me and Noble behind, and it would be my responsibility to watch over him even more. She said it would be like that until he was able to use a crutch and get around easily.
I was in the kitchen cleaning up \lien I heard the front door open and then slam shut so hard, the house shook. I stepped out and saw her marching down the hallway, her hair wild, her face red.
"What is it. Mommy?" I asked, practically cringing as she flew by.
"That sister of Taylor's," she ranted. "is going around and telling peoplesomehow responsible for what happened to him. Like I'm a witch or something. I dazzled
and beguiled him to the point where he didn't know what he was doing. Forget that two drunken teenagers did this. That doesn't matter. Just what she says about me matters, and people are so ready to believe anything bad about someone else, you know, especially these people in this... this narrow-minded small town. I hate these people. We're not going to have anything to do with this
community," she vowed. "I'll do all my shopping far away always, and we'll not call on anyone around here for any help. Were alone more than ever, but that's fine with me," she continued.
I didn't say anything, but I told myself that our chances of getting to go to the public school in our community just dropped into a sewer.
She was livid with rage and rambled on about the ignorance of some people while I watched her prepare the cast. She looked as if she had done it many times before. although I had never heard about anyone else in the family breaking his or her leg. Mommy knew how to do so many things. I thought. and I wondered if I would ever be as independent and as strong as she was.
For a while Noble was at least intrigued with a cast on his leg. Mommy kept him as quiet and still as she could. She gave him sponge baths, helped him go to the bathroom, and had me bring him all his meals and anything else he wanted. After a while I think he just enjoyed ordering me about the house to get him this or that. If I dared voice any reluctance to do something he wanted, he would whine to Mommy and she would lecture me about how important it was to keep him happy, how that would hasten his recovery, and how it was my responsibility-- clearly, my, fault -- that he had suffered the broken leg.
I didn't argue. I did what he wanted. and I read to him as much as I could and as much as he would tolerate, but he wasn't one to stand still before he broke his leg. It was quite impossible for him to continue this way now. Mommy finally realized that, and together, we eventually brought him and all of his things downstairs. I was as happy as he was because it made things easier for me. and I had our room all to myself.
Mommy prepared a place for him in the living room and reluctantly gave in and permitted him to play with his electric trains. For some reason she had wanted anything that reminded us of Mr. Kotes to be put away and forgotten. but Noble never stopped asking for his trains. I had to sit and watch him play with them for hours, fixing cars and tracks, creating tunnels out of cardboard, and pretend to be as interested in it all as he was. Mommy watched us, but she didn't look happy. It gave me the willies. I felt like I was touching something contaminated, but we had to keep Noble occupied so he would recuperate.
She even began to permit him to watch more television. Our school lessons continued, but his attention span was so reduced, she reduced our class hours and then had me help him with homework. He hated working in the booklets and, although he could draw well, was very sloppy with his writing, not taking care to keep his script on the lines. Mommy usually made him write things over when he did that, but she was far more lenient with him now and he got away with lots more.
Without Mr. Kotes coming around, and with Noble confined and cranky most of the time, our house felt like a big cage locking us away from the world. Aside from the postman, some utility people, and the occasional car that paused on the highway so the travelers could gape at our house and property, we saw no one. Of course no casual callers came to our door. At the start of our driveway, there was a big sign that read KEEP OFF. PRIVATE PROPERTY. NO TRESPASSING. The phone rarely rang. The one time I remember it ringing and Mommy talking was the time the administration at the home where Daddy's father was living called to let her la-low that he had died. With Daddy gone, we never spoke about his father. and I had forgotten all about him.
"He died long ago," I heard her tell whomever it was that called.
She left to make arrangements, but we never attended any funeral. Mommy took care of the burial, and that was that. I had hardly known my grandfather, so it was hard to feel any sadness. I told myself at least now he was with Daddy.
To keep Noble occupied even more. Mommy went and bought a wheelchair. He enjoyed having me push him about the house and then outside through the back door because there were only two steps to navigate. Once outside, he demanded to be pushed everywhere, and that was not easy. If I complained or protested, he whined and screamed until I made an superhuman effort and rolled him up a hill or through the gravel.
I was more grateful and happier than he was when Mommy finally let Noble get around on a crutch. In the beginning he thought that was fun. He even turned the crutch into an imaginary friend upon whose shoulder he would lean. Billy Crutch, he called it and would tease me, telling me Billy Crutch didn't like me to touch him or Billy Crutch wanted me to do this or do that. Mommy let him paint the crutch the same colors he had painted the broomstick he had called his magic wand.
Consequently, he no longer complained much about any pain, although he was always moaning and groaning about itching. He didn't eat as much as he normally ate, and he grew thinner. We were still about the same height, although my added chores made me tougher, stronger. Noble used to be the one who brought in firewood, for example, and now I was doing it.
I wondered how much Mommy missed Mr. Kotes. She never played any music, and she let her hair grow uneven, not trimming her bangs. She no longer put on any lipstick and went days wearing the same house-dress. I felt sorry for her, but her lack of companionship seemed to bother her less and less as time went on. She kept busy looking after the house, making our meals, washing our clothing. Sometimes she wanted me to help, and sometimes she resented me working beside her and lessening her load. It seemed she wanted to be busy and occupied. If I was around her too long, she chided me about not paying enough attention to Noble. I knew she believed that as long as I was right by his side, nothing more terrible would happen to him.
I was as vigilant as I could be. but I was bored most of the time. and Noble was very unhappy about being confined either to the house or just outside. If he dared start toward the woods. Mommy would scream and then rage at me for permitting him to even contemplate doing such a thing. What could I do but pull his crutch out from under him, his Billy Crutch?
"I don't know why she's so upset." Noble complained. "I'm not going to climb any trees, at least not for a while."
"She doesn't trust the shadows," I told him, and he grimaced and shook his head. None of it made any sense to him. He was like a wild bird, caged and told it was for its awn good.
However, one night soon after. Mommy came charging up the stairs and burst into our room. Noble had gotten so he could move about much more easily and navigate the stairway, too, so he was back upstairs. We were just getting ready for bed when she threw open our doorway and stood there, breathing hard, her eyes wide, her face flushed. Her hair looked like she had been running her fingers through it for hours. Neither Noble nor I spoke. We froze and gaped at her. After a moment, she caught her breath and looked at me.
"Did you see anything, hear anything?" "No. Mommy," I said.
She looked so hard at Noble that he stepped back and closer to me.
"Your father," she said in a whisper that seemed to come from somewhere deep down in her throat. "he told me we should be especially alert and careful. Especially you. Celeste," she added, nodding at me.
I felt a sheet of ice slide down my back. I couldn't swallow. I couldn't move. She looked up at the ceiling and let her eves sweep the room while she embraced herself.
"Me?"
"You have the eyes," she emphasized, widening her own for emphasis.
She looked around our room again and then embraced herself and nodded.
"He's right. There's something." she muttered. "Something not right. Be vigilant," she warned me and stepped back, closing the door.
Even after she left. neither Noble nor I moved for a long moment. Finally he turned to me, biting the inside of his cheek as he often did when he was annoyed or confused.
"I hate this cast." he said, as if that was the whole reason for what had just happened. Why wasn't he j
ust as frightened for us as I was? He went past me into the bathroom and closed the door.
I took a deep breath finally and sat on my bed. It had been so long since I had felt anything spiritual around me, so long since I even thought I had seen Daddy or any of our spiritual family. Maybe there was just too much darkness, too many gray skies. Winter had come earlier this year, crowding fall out of our lives. The winds swept the yellow and golden brown leaves off the trees and turned our surrounding forest into gloomy watchmen waiting for the crisp light of morning to drive back the shadows that thickened and lengthened their reach toward our home and us every night.
Inside our cage the three of us hovered in the living room, the fire in the fireplace crackling. Mommy knitted or worked on some needlepoint, listening to Noble and me recite our lessons or, occasionally, me reading aloud. From time to time she would turn toward a window, her eyes small with suspicion at the sound of the wind. It always made my breath catch and hold, my heart thump.
With Mr. Kotes now long gone from our lives and the breaking of his leg changing his life so. Noble eventually lost interest in his trains and finally agreed to help me and Mommy pack them away to store in the garage. They were to be resurrected and put together on some future date. It was a date left vague, as vague as our future seemed to be in every way, whether it be when we were going to the public school, when we would have friends, when we would go to movies or see ball games or concerts, when, in essence, we would eventually emerge from this thickly woven protective web that Mommy had spun around us.
And adding to all that. I thought, she had cast this very frightening, very general warning over us like a net consisting of icicles. If I felt like I was walking on eggshells before. I certainly did now. Just as it was for her, every sound, every tinkle, caused me to spin around and search for something. I had no idea what it was I should be looking to see. but I did look. I was even afraid to fall asleep too quickly, and many nights I woke up listening hard for any unusual sounds.
Occasionally I could hear Mommy chanting something in the living room below or even behind her closed bedroom door.
She lit candles all over the house and burned her special incense. Every day, especially every night. I would catch her shifting her eyes quickly toward a window or toward the door, her head slightly tilted back as she listened hard.
"Did you hear anything. Celeste?" she would ask me quickly.
Celeste Page 12