'Gabrielle's pregnant,' she said.
'What? When . . . Who . . . How did this happen?' he demanded.
'I'm trying to find that out. If you'll just clamp down on that tongue . . .'
My shoulders shook with my sobs. Mama put her hand on my head and petted me.
'There, there, honey. I'll help you, don't worry. What happened?'
'He . . .'
'Go on, honey. Just spit it out,' Mama said. 'Best way to get something bitter and distasteful from your mouth is quick,' she assured me.
I took a deep breath and sucked back my sobs. Then I raised my head and took my hands from my face.
'He had his way with me in the canoe, Mama. I couldn't stop him. I tried, but I couldn't.'
'That's all right, Gabrielle. That's all right,'
'What?' Daddy said, stepping closer. 'Who did this? Who had his way? I'll—'
'Hush, Jack. You'll frighten her.'
'Well . . . no one's gonna . . .'
'Gabrielle, did this happen at your swimming hole?'
'Yes, Mama.'
'Who was it, honey, did this to you? Someone we know?' I nodded. Mama took my hand into hers.
'These young bucks, these worthless, good-for-nothing . . .' Daddy rattled.
'It was Monsieur Tate,' I blurted, and Daddy stopped ranting, his jaw falling open.
'Octavious Tate!'
'Octavious Tate done this?' Daddy fumed. He stood there, his eyes widening, his face a magenta color from his rage. Then he frightened both Mama and me by slamming his fist into the wall so hard he bashed in a hole.
'Jack!'
'Gabrielle, you get up out of that bed, hear? You get yourself dressed and out of that bed right now,' Daddy directed, jabbing his right forefinger at me.
'Jack,' Mama cried. 'What are you going to do?'
'Just get her dressed. I'm the man of this house. Get her dressed!'
'She's not—'
'It's all right, Mama,' I said. 'I can get up.' I never saw Daddy so full of fury. There was no telling what he would do if he didn't have his way.
'Well, what's he planning to do?' Mama cried. She looked at me. 'My poor baby. Why didn't you tell me this all before?'
'It happened right before graduation, Mama. I didn't want to start anything then and . . . I wasn't sure whether or not it was partly my fault.'
'Your fault? Why?'
'Because I . . . swim without my clothes,' I said.
'That still don't give no man the right to do what he done,' Mama said.
'Get her up and dressed!' Daddy screamed from the other room.
'I will not,' Mama replied.
'No, Mama. I'll do what Daddy wants. I made this trouble worse by not telling you about it.' I rose and began to dress, my hands trembling, my legs shaking, feeling as if I were sinking, drowning, going under in a pool of hopeless despair, and not even thinking for the moment that there was a baby growing inside me.
'Where you taking her, Jack?' Mama demanded. After I was dressed, Daddy took my hand and led me out and to his truck, practically dragging me along. Mama followed to the galerie steps.
'Get in the truck,' he ordered, and then turned to her.
'You hush up now, woman,' he said to Mama. 'This here's a man's job to do.'
'Jack Landry . . .'
'No. If you didn't let her wander about freely, this probably wouldn't have happened, hear?' he accused.
I felt terrible for Mama and buried my face in my hands. What had I done? It was all my fault. First, I shouldn't have been so unaware and trusting in the swamp, and afterward, I should never had kept it such a deep, dark secret from Mama. She looked so small and defeated on the galerie and so disappointed. I knew she blamed herself for bringing me up to believe I led a charmed life. It was true I always felt nothing in Nature would harm me, but I never counted on another human being invading the sanctity of my precious perfect world.
Daddy started the truck and slammed it into gear. He pressed down hard on the accelerator, tearing up some grass and gravel as we shot off. The truck bounced so hard my head nearly hit the roof. Daddy mumbled angrily to himself and slammed the steering wheel with the ball of his palm. I kept my eyes low. Suddenly he turned sharply
