After that day, they rode home together three or four times a week. Sometimes he went out with friends instead, but he wasn’t interested in any particular girl as far as Raven could tell.
At first when they drove together, he’d ask if she wanted to stop for food at Bear’s or another drive-through. She always said no. Mama was getting sicker and acting stranger. Raven had to be at home as much as possible.
He knew something was wrong but stopped asking about it. They talked about their classes, or he would tell her something happening in the news or about a movie he liked. She would describe whatever book she was reading. Sometimes they said very little. She didn’t worry about being quiet with him anymore. In fact, she found their silences comforting. She sensed he felt that way, too.
The second day after Thanksgiving break from school, Raven found Mama on the floor when she woke up. Her eyes stared, but she was breathing. She had entered the spirit world.
Mama had lost a lot of weight, but Raven still had to use all her strength to raise her to her feet and support her until she got her into bed. She pulled the covers over her. “Mama . . . are you okay? Do you want me to make your tea?”
Mama stared as if she weren’t there. She had entered the spirit world many times since Raven was little, but this time Raven was afraid her body was too weak to come back. She decided she wouldn’t go to school.
She propped Mama up and held cooled tea to her lips. “Drink, Mama. This is your favorite. It has licorice in it.”
She was relieved when Mama sipped at the tea and gradually focused her eyes on her.
“Daughter . . . ,” she said.
“Yes, Mama?”
“The spirits won’t heal me. I don’t understand . . . I don’t understand . . .” Tears dripped from her pale eyes.
“It’s time to see a doctor,” Raven said. “Let’s call Aunt Sondra and have her bring Dr. Pat. Tell me her phone number and how to get in your phone. I’ll call right now.”
“No!” Her former will gleamed in her eyes. “You will promise me no doctors! Promise me now!”
Raven thought of what Jackie had said. You take your promises to her too seriously.
Mama saw she didn’t want to promise. “This is my body and spirit, Daughter,” she said with surprising vehemence. “I will not have anyone fiddling with it! I will not be attached to their machines and needles. I will not let them do what they did to my mother!”
“What did they do?”
“They took all dignity and fight out of her. She wanted to die on our land in Montana, and they wouldn’t let her.”
Mama’s face blurred in tears. “Are you saying you think you’re going to die?”
Mama held her hand. Her skin was cold. “I’m fighting this thing, Raven. I’m still speaking to the spirits. If you take me to one of those hospitals, I will surely die as my mother did. Promise me no doctors. Not ever.”
“But what if—”
“Promise!”
“I promise, Mama.” Tears dripped down her cheeks.
“Daughter . . . I’m comfortable with going to the spirits. They’ve been good to me. They gave me you. And it’s for you that I need to stay in this world. Surely the spirits see that. You aren’t ready to be on your own yet.”
“I know. I’m so scared.”
Mama squeezed her hand. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here. I’ll keep you safe.”
For how long? If the spirits hadn’t yet helped her, would they ever?
Mama’s eyes started losing focus again. But she seemed to look at something behind Raven. Raven turned around but saw nothing. It must be a spirit Mama could see. But earth spirits were unlikely to come inside a house. They would feel trapped there.
“I have to keep her safe,” Mama whispered to the spirit. “Let me keep her safe.” After a silence, she said anxiously, “I did no wrong! She was given to me. Don’t punish me! I did nothing wrong!”
Raven clasped her hand. “No one will punish you, Mama.”
Mama turned her eyes toward her but seemed to look through her. “They might be punishing me. I’m not sure. I don’t remember what I did . . . how I got you. They might be angry about what I did. That might be why I’m sick.”
“What do you mean? They gave me to you.”
“Yes . . . they gave you to me. A perfect baby. A miracle.” She clutched Raven’s hand so hard it hurt. “Don’t ever let that man say you’re his! He’s bad! He kills the earth spirits! He’s like my father with his corporations and his chemicals poisoning the land! You were never meant to be his!”
“Who? What man?”
“That senator. Bauhammer!” Mama pressed her hand to her forehead. “He’s dead. I remember now. He can never come here. He can’t take you.”
Raven didn’t understand what she was talking about with the senator. But Mama often confused memories when she was halfway between the material and spiritual worlds. Raven could easily see how that would happen.
Mama’s body suddenly went slack, and her eyes closed. Raven frantically pressed her hand on Mama’s heart. She couldn’t feel it beating. She laid her head on her chest, listening.
She heard it. The heart beating. Mama hadn’t died. Yet she looked so pale and lifeless.
When she was certain Mama would continue breathing, Raven left to make breakfast. And later lunch, then dinner. By nightfall, Mama hadn’t woken to eat. Raven slept in her bed, her arm tucked around Mama to feel her warmth.
Raven had never missed school because of Mama’s shifts into the spirit world. The times it happened on a school day, she had trusted Mama’s health enough to leave her. Mama would stay in the spirit world for a day, sometimes two. This shift had started on Tuesday, and Raven was still at home taking care of her on Thursday. She had missed three days of classes, but she
