Tarnished Gold

'Which reminds me,' she said, turning her steely eyes to me. 'How did your mother know to come? How did you send for her?' she demanded. 'And don't tell me you told some bird to go fetch her.'

Fearful, I looked at Mama. Would Gladys Tate cast us out now, and with us all the effort, the suffering and loneliness, I endured for the sake of the baby and my family?

'Better tell her everything, honey,' Mama said.

'There was this boy,' I began.

'Boy? What boy?' she pounced, her eyes widening.

'I saw him doing handstands on the lawn behind the house, and he saw me in the window. But he won't tell anyone I'm here. He promised,' I added quickly.

'What boy is this?' she asked Octavious. 'Whom is she babbling about?' He shrugged.

'What's his name?' she asked me.

'Henry,' I said.

'The deaf-mute,' Octavious said, realizing. 'Porter's son.'

'Get rid of them,' Gladys snapped. 'Today. I want the whole family off the property.'

'But, Madame Tate,' I cried. 'He's harmless. He won't tell anyone anything, and he did help by getting Mama. Don't punish his family because of me.'

'I want them off my property before the sun goes down, Octavious. Do you understand?' she said, ignoring my pleas. He nodded.

'Don't worry. I'll take care of them,' he assured her, but she didn't look calmed.

'You were not supposed to let anyone know you were here,' she flared at me, looking red and very angry. 'That was our bargain. Why do you think I've been going through all this discomfort and pain?'

'Pain? What pain?' Mama asked.

'Pain! Pain! I'm supposed to be the one giving birth. I can't be without aches and pains, can I? When you pretend as well and as accurately as I have pretended, you actually feel it. No one knows how much I've endured,' she cried, her face in an ugly grimace. 'I'm the one who's making all the sacrifices here just to make everything look right.' She put her hands through her hair, looking as though she might tug out strands of it, and turned on Octavious, who stood by, watching with fear and amazement on his face, too. 'Why are you still here? Get rid of them! Now! All of this is your fault. All of it!'

'All right, all right,' he said, holding up his hands. 'Calm down. I'll do it.'

He ran from the room. I turned away so no one would see my tear-filled eyes. I shouldn't have looked out that window and I shouldn't have laughed and shown myself to Henry. Because of me, Henry and his family would be thrown out and have to go searching for a new place to live and work.

It seemed like anything and everything I did now would hurt someone. Was it because I had been touched by evil, deeply stained in my very soul? Perhaps no act, no matter how unselfish, could cleanse me of the pollution. Maybe I was better off staying away from the people I loved, I thought sadly. Look at what I had done to this innocent, handicapped boy. If I hadn't panicked, if I had waited for Gladys Tate instead of sending Henry for Mama, Henry's family wouldn't be destitute. I deserve to be miserable, I thought. Somehow, I make everyone else more miserable.

Mama saw the regret and guilt in my face and knew I was suffering remorse. 'If she said the boy wouldn't tell anyone, he won't,' she told Gladys. 'Becoming hysterical over everything isn't going to help the situation right now.'

'I am not hysterical,' Gladys insisted in a raspy whisper, but her eyes still looked like two hot coals.

Mania shook her head. 'I don't want Gabrielle upset at this juncture. I want her to have a clear mind and concentrate. If indeed the baby's coming, we ain't out of the woods. Not by a long shot,' she said, and for the first time, Gladys considered the baby's well-being rather than her own.

'Something can happen to my baby?' she asked anxiously.

'A baby crosses from one world into another. Nature pushes him out of the safe, happy one and into this turmoil. The road's always fraught with some danger. We don't need to add any of our own to it.'

Suddenly Gladys Tate's eyes became two slits. The blood rushed to the surface of her cheeks and her shoulders lifted. She looked from Mama to me and then to Mama again, shaking her head very slowly as she took a step back. Then her smile came crooked and mean, her cold brown eyes shooting devilish electric sparks.

'You want the baby to die, don't you?' she said, nodding to validate her own suspicions. 'Sure. You made this happen too soon with one of your secret herbal concoctions. You backward Cajun faith healers believe in all sorts of superstitions. You probably think the baby will curse you or something. Isn't that true? The baby's death would solve the problem for you, wouldn't it?'

'What? Of course not,' Mama said. 'What a terrible and ridiculous thing to say. If anyone is thinking like a backwards Cajun, it's you!' Mama retorted.

But Gladys continued to nod, convinced of her own suspicions. 'I heard stories about traiteur ladies killing babies because they thought the babies were born with evil souls. When they wash them off,, they deliberately drown them or they suffocate them when no one's looking.'

'Those are stupid lies. No traiteur would take a life. We are here to ease pain and suffering and drive away bad things?'

You said it There. You said it,' she accused, pointing her right forefinger at Mama. 'Drive away bad things. If you think a baby's bad . . .'

'A baby can't be bad,' Mama insisted. 'The baby can't be blamed for its own birth,' she explained, 'especially if the mother was raped,' she added pointedly, but Gladys didn't look convinced.