through the upstairs, going in and out of the rooms, checking closets and bathrooms, looking into every possible space. I called for Mommy. I begged her to reply if she was in the house.
'Pierre needs you desperately, Mommy. If you're here, please call to us. Please!'
There was only the echo of my voice followed by silence. We returned to what had been my mother's bedroom. The bed had no linen, but there were still pillows and a mattress. Both of us ran our light beams over the floors and walls, even under the bed, but we saw no one and no evidence of anyone having been here recently.
'Maybe I just imagined the candle,' Jack said woefully, 'and brought you up here on false hope. The swamps play havoc with your senses sometimes. You ever see a flash of swamp gas?'
'No.'
'It ignites and rolls across the water's surface like balls of lightning,' he said. 'It happens so quickly you're not sure whether or not you imagined it.'
'I think I saw something like that when I drove up to the house. I don't really remember much at all about the bayou; I was just a little girl when I left. It sounds fascinating.'
'I wouldn't want to live anywhere else,' he said. 'Don't mean any disrespect, but as you know, I'm not one for city life.'
I smiled for the first time in hours, but I wasn't sure he could see in the dark.
'Well,' he said after a moment, 'you're welcome to come back to the trailer with me. I can make us something cold to drink. I got some watermelon in the fridge, too,' he added. 'Unless you're too tired.'
I had been so excited and nervous, I never realized the lateness of the hour or the weariness in my body. Now that we had paused for a while, my legs did feel heavy, and fatigue began to climb up as if I had stepped into a pool of it.
'I'm okay,' I said. 'Just a little tired.'
'What are your plans?' he asked. 'You don't want to just turn around and drive back, do you?'
'Oh, no. I'm going to stay here,' I said, gazing around.
'Stay here? You mean, in the house?'
'Yes. If my mother was here, she might come back, and if she's hiding, she might finally show herself. I don't know what else to do.'
'But this is an empty house. Don't you have any relatives or friends to stay with? I mean, there are probably all sorts of creatures living in here by now, including spiders and snakes and—'
'Don't!' I said. 'You're scaring me, and I have to stay here.'
'I'm sorry,' he said, seeing my determination. 'If you're positive you want to do this . . .'
'Yes.'
'Okay. Let's go back to the trailer. I’ll dig out some food and get us some blankets,' he said.
'Us?'
'Well, you don't think I'm going to let you stay here by yourself, do you? I wouldn't catch a wink of sleep lying back there in my trailer, worrying about you here,' he said. 'I mean, that candle could have been used by a prowler.'
'You don't have to stay here. I'll be all right,' I said, but my legs were shaking and my knees knocking.
'I told you, I take care of your oil well, and I'll take care of you,' he said firmly.
I smiled in the darkness, grateful for his generosity and concern. 'Thank you,' I said.
'No thanks required. Let's go get what we need,' he said, and we left the house.
The cold watermelon was refreshing. After I had eaten some, I used the bathroom while Jack gathered the bedding and a kerosene lamp. Then we returned to the house.
'Where do you want to camp?' he asked after we entered and stood gazing into the dark.
'Upstairs,' I said. 'My mother's old bedroom.' The glow from the kerosene lamp cast pools of dull yellow light over the walls as we climbed the stairs.
Our shadows spilled behind us down the steps and over the entryway. Jack saw where my attention had gone and laughed. He lifted the lamp making the shadows change their shapes and sizes.
'We're gigantic,' he said. 'We'll scare away any ghosts that might dwell in these crannies.'
'Do you believe in ghosts, Jack?' I asked him. 'Sure. I've seen them occasionally.'
'Stop,' I said.
'No. I have.' He paused at the landing and turned to me. 'In the swamp at night, floating over the water. Indian ghosts, I'm sure.'
'Maybe it was just that swamp gas you described,' I told him.
'You don't believe in spiritual things?'
'I believe in God, but not in goblins and ghosts and voodoo spirits. I'm a scientist,' I said. 'I believe there's a logical cause and a logical reason for every-thing. We might not know it yet, but there is.'
'Okay,' he said with a small, smug smile on his lips.
'You think I'll be proven wrong?'
