“Of course they are,” she says with a smile. “But why here? They all so young-”
“Miss Malvina, I’d like you to meet my oldest son, Typhus,” he interrupts. “Today is his first day in this place. And I’ve got a special surprise waiting on him-just like the surprise I got for you a bit later on.”
“We’ve met,” Typhus says with a cautious smile. “In the shop. Miss Malvina comes in regular.”
“Hello, Typhus,” says Malvina, unable to pull her gaze from the amazing button structures of West Bolden. “Can this be?” Her eyes are full of wonder.
“Now comes the good part, and I’m glad you could be here to bear witness. It is a moment my family has long waited on.” Noonday has fixed his stare on a swirl of motion from a nearing river cloud, his eyes brightening steadily. “And there she is, the one and only love of my life.”
“Typhus,” a breathless female voice can be heard. “Typhus, come here to me.”
Typhus’ eyes go wide. His freshly unencumbered heart is melting fast.
A woman is walking towards them from the murk, her arms extended.
“Mama?” It’s the first time the word has ever passed his lips in the presence of the woman it was made for, but it won’t be the last, not by far.
The woman Typhus has only known as Lily for so many years is smiling at him, her deep brown eyes clouding the water about her drifting hair with trails of lilac tears.
“As beautiful a sight as I’ve ever seen,” says Malvina, enjoying the spectacle of mother and son united in death. Then, in a whisper; “Noonday, how did Typhus die? I didn’t even know he was sick.”
“Wasn’t sick a’tall. I killed him myself, just this morning.” Noonday says this with a tone of fatherly pride that Malvina finds both distasteful and inappropriate. He ignores her reprimanding stare and continues: “Now, just look at them. Both dead, both happy.” His voice takes on the rhythm of a sermon:
“It’s wrong to kill children, sir,” Malvina scolds. “If that’s really what you done.”
“Surely it is,” Noonday concedes. “But he was nearly dead already, I just guided him that last little bit. Long story. Tell ya all about it later, sister-if ya don’t mind. Lots of time later, not much now.”
Malvina tightens her face, never having cared for backtalk (much less shushing) from a person so much younger than herself. Noonday just smiles, takes her again by the hand, leading her past Typhus and the beautiful woman whose name is Gloria and not Lily, into a thick of gathering light.Malvina’s mind fills with uneasy questions as they walk past the night’s first reunion, recalling recent feelings of premonition. “Something bad gonna happen, Noonday. I just don’t know what.”
He squeezes her hand once more. “Now, whatever may come will do so on its own steam, and that don’t necessarily reflect on you or me or things we mighta done in our past and above water. Plenty of blame to pass around. Ain’t no one innocent here.” His smile fades. “Don’t be afraid ner concerned, but I want you to come with me.”
“Where to?”
“Some folks been waitin’ on ya. Be glad to see you, too. See if we can’t straighten out all this fear and bad feelin’.” A pause. “See if we can’t make things right once and for all.”
“What folks?”
“Will o’ the Wisps.” Noonday Morningstar looks down, slips his naked feet into the two shoes that had caused Malvina to fall. He places an arm around her trembling, transparent shoulders. “Just come along. You’ll see.”
The two walk forward into murky brown, towards a blue ball of light, a will o’ the wisp. As they get closer the light takes on the shape of a woman. Long dead, the woman is not a ghost in this place.
Chapter forty-nine. Spiritworld
“Maria?”
“Hello, Auntie,” replies the slender young mulatto woman. She is cradling a small, white blanket in her hands-it is empty and unsoiled. Malvina has seen this blanket before.
“Child, child, I can hardly believe my own eyes.” Malvina is seeing and speaking with her long dead niece, her sister Frances’ lost child. Her heart is booming.
“Why so hard to believe? For you this is a dream.”
“But it isn’t,” Malvina says.
“I have to go.” Maria averts her eyes as she speaks.
“Don’t go, Maria. Stay and talk with me awhile. There’s so much I want to, that I need to-”
“I lost my baby, Auntie Malvina. Michael’s his name.”
“I know his name, Maria-”
“Have to find him. Have to go now.” Maria backs away, then turns-walks off into the thick brown of river.
“Let me help you,” Malvina pleads, moving to follow-but Noonday puts a firm hand on her shoulder, holds her steady.
“Let her go. She’ll be all right. This is something she needs to do. A pain she needs to feel.”
“But it’s my fault…” Malvina says weakly, just loud enough for Maria to hear.
Maria stops in her tracks, turns to face Malvina before going further. “No,” she says with conviction. “No, it isn’t your fault.”
“But Maria, please,” Malvina says. “What do I do? What do I say to your mama? What should I tell her?”
Maria’s expression is a mixture of exhaustion and resolve. “Tell her to come home. Tell her she needs to come home.”
Maria steps away quickly, her hands clutching the blanket tightly, disappearing completely in the murk. Malvina’s knees go rubbery with grief.
“So many things,” Noonday explains, “will not make sense to you in the Spiritworld. Not while you’re just visiting. But when you belong, your questions will be fewer, much fewer.”
“I don’t understand. I don’t
“Shh. Come. There’s someone else you need to see. Someone to make things right in your heart.”
He takes her hand and leads her towards a blue ball of light in the distance. Blue with a halo of red.
Chapter fifty. Rhythm Found
Malvina tries to wish herself awake, “wake up, wake up, wake up,” she chants aloud. Noonday strokes her shoulder, but offers no comforting words, says only:
“Stop that. Look at him. What do you see?”
Forcing herself to calm, she looks, sees, then speaks;
“He’s transparent. Like me.” Her heart fills with irrational relief.
“Yes, but not for long.”
“He’s dying.”
“In your world, he’s dying. Here, he is being born.”
The dying man falls to his knees. His eyes widen and blink. His hair is long and wild, his clothes are tatters. This is the Coco Robicheaux of Malvina’s dreams-but in the dream he has no eyes. This
