'What'cha say we buy a new stove, Catherine?'
'The one I have is fine, Jack.'
'Well, that ain't the point. I was thinking we would get one of them new radios and maybe I'll get you one of them Mixmasters so you don't have to stand over the bowl and churn and churn all day, how's that? And what about one of them whatchamacallits that suck dirt up?'
'You need electricity for all those things, Jack,' Mama reminded him dryly.
'Well, we'll get the electricity now. I got the money coming, don't I?'
'Don't spend it all in one day, Jack,' Mama warned.
'Oh, I know that. I'm giving you a stash, but I'll need some money to invest. Can't live off five thousand forever, you know,' he said as if he were already a big businessman. 'Maybe instead of a truck and tools, I'll see about getting me my own shrimp boat with a down payment or—'
'Stop it,' Mama said. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.
'What? What I do?'
She got up from the table and ran out the front door. 'What I do?' Daddy asked me, his arms out.
'It's all right, Daddy. Let me talk to her.'
I followed her. She was sitting in her rocker, staring at the darkness.
'Mama.'
'I can't abide him sitting there gloating over all the things he's going to do with that money, Gabrielle. I'm sorry. It's tainted money, no matter what,' she insisted.
'I know, Mama. But it's not the money that matters so much. It's having a good place for the baby and keeping the shame from our door. Gladys Tate is right: Even though it's not my fault, people will think bad things about me, and what good man will want to know me?'
'She said that?'
'Yes, Mama.'
'She really wants this baby, don't she?'
'It certainly seemed that way, Mama.'
Mama sighed deeply and then held out her arms. I knelt beside her and buried my face against her bosom the way I used to when I was just a little girl and she held me close and rocked a bit. Then she kissed the top of my head.
'All right,' she said. 'I'll be all right. Just tell him to stuff his mouth with a pound of hemp.'
I laughed and hugged her again. Mama was my best friend. There would be no one like her in the world for me, ever. It was knowledge that made me happy, but sad too, for I knew I would lose her someday and have to face mornings and days, nights and the stars, without her wisdom and comfort, her love and her smiles. It would be like a cloud forever and ever blocking the sun.
We returned and finished our meal. Daddy had sense enough to be quiet and went out back to smoke his corncob pipe and muse about his newfound wealth. After we cleaned the kitchen and dishes, Mama and I went back to the galerie and talked. She told me what it had been like when she was pregnant and how my birth went. She told me about the two babies her mother had lost, one in a miscarriage and one in a silent birth. I had never known it.
Just about eleven-thirty, Daddy appeared to tell me it was near the time.
'How's this going to work?' Mama asked.
'I just drive her up there and she goes into the house herself, right, Gabrielle?'
'That's right, Mama.'
'You see that she goes in safely, Jack.'
'Of course I will,' he snapped. 'I don't care how rich them folks are. They ain't going to do nothing to make Jack Landry upset,' he threatened.
'It's not Jack Landry I'm worrying over,' Mama retorted.
'I'll go get my things, Daddy,' I said, and hurried upstairs. I stood in my room for a while and gazed around. It wasn't a big room, but it was cozy and warm and the place where I had suffered through my childhood illness, cried my tears of frustration, dreamed my fantasies, and had some wonderful conversations with Mama at night. It was where she had sung her lullabies to me and where she had tucked me in and made me feel safe. Tonight would be the first night of my life that I would sleep someplace else. I choked back my tears, for fear I would upset Mama more than she already was upset. Then I said a silent prayer for her and for Daddy and for me and left my room quickly, not looking back.
Daddy turned off the truck's headlights when we reached the entrance to The Shadows's driveway. Then he drove very slowly over the gravel. A heavy layer of dark clouds had come pouring in from the Gulf, drawing a sheet of thick raven darkness to shut out the twinkling stars I often looked to for comfort. Now the sky looked like a giant inkwell, purple-black, deep and endless. It stirred me with a strange sense of foreboding as we drew closer and closer to this magnificent Cajun mansion. I knew that under any other circumstances, I would love simply visiting such a home, much less actually living in one for a while.
With only a light on here and there, the house appeared dismal, ominous. Its roof loomed in a silhouette against the ebony sea of clouds. Off to the right, I could hear the plaintive howl of a chained hound dog, and in the distance I could see lightning around the thunderheads. Bats swooped over the driveway, clicking their wings with a mechanical precision as they dipped to scoop up an insect invisible to my eyes. When Daddy turned off the engine, we could hear the monotone symphony of the cicadas.
Daddy was a bit more agitated than usual. After he had brought the truck to a stop, he kept his gaze locked on
