to the island yesterday. He’s talking about finding my Audi this morning, and how it threw him into a panic. He’s worried that I fell into the river and drowned like my grandmother. Grandpapa says I might die a lot of ways, but drowning won’t be one of them. Then he thanks Henry for bringing back the car and bids him good-bye. Heavy footsteps sound on the hardwood.
A screen door slams.
Someone speaks, and I recognize the careless voice of Billy Neal for sure. “Maybe she hitched a ride with somebody,” he says.
“Why the hell would she do that?” Grandpapa snaps. “Her goddamn car was sitting right there with a spare set of keys in a magnetic case under the bumper. Who do you think put those keys there?”
“The Audi dealer, maybe?”
“Boy, have you got an ounce of brains in your head? Catherine put those keys there. That’s the kind of girl she is.”
“Maybe the car wouldn’t start.”
“It started right up for Henry this morning.”
“Maybe she’s still on the island, then. Maybe the bridge got covered over before she left.”
“Get the hell out of here!” bellows my grandfather. “Don’t come back till you start making some sense. That girl knows how to take care of herself. I want to know what happened down there. I’ve got enough to worry about with the casino project. Government questioning every goddamn thing on the applications, DNA tests on three- hundred-year-old teeth. Jesus. Get out of here!”
More footsteps, and the door slams again.
“What do you think, Pearlie?” asks Grandpapa.
I move closer to the door, close enough to hear Pearlie sigh.
“Am I paid to think?” she asks.
“I asked your opinion. Where is she? Where’s my grandbaby?”
“I’m afraid somebody done hurt that girl, Dr. Kirkland. Like you said, she knows how to take care of herself. And she wouldn’t leave that car behind without a good reason.”
“She might if she went into one of her manic states. What you call her spells.”
“Last time I saw her,” says Pearlie, “she looked more down than up to me. No, if Louise put her on a bicycle, then somebody followed her. She never made it to that bridge.”
“Who would do that?” asks Grandpapa.
“I’d ask that trash you got working for you where he was yesterday evening.”
The silence stretches for some time. “You think Billy followed her down there?”
“Do you know where he was yesterday?”
“Doing some business for me in Baton Rouge. Picking up some things for me.”
“Way I remember it, that island ain’t far off the highway to Baton Rouge.”
More silence. “What would Billy want with Catherine?”
“You’d know more about that than I would.” Pearlie’s voice carries a sharp rebuke. “What does any man want with any woman?”
Grandpapa makes a rumbling noise. “I’ll talk to him.”
The screen door bangs again.
I step into the kitchen.
Pearlie is standing at the sink, her back to me. She lifts an iron skillet and turns on the tap, then freezes. Slowly she turns, and her eyes go wide.
“Don’t say anything,” I whisper. “Not a word.”
She nods silently.
“I’m leaving town, Pearlie. Are my extra keys in here?”
She glances at the counter. The spring-loaded Audi key is lying on top of some mail. I grab it and return to the doorway.
“Where you going, girl?” Pearlie asks.
“I have to meet someone. I want you to tell me something first, though.”
“What?”
“Somebody did some bad things to me when I was a little girl. A man. It was either Daddy or Grandpapa. And I don’t see how you could have taken care of me for so long-you did my mother’s job, really-without knowing about that. I just don’t.”
Pearlie glances at the outside door, but her expression doesn’t change.
“You won’t tell me?” I ask.
Her face tightens in what looks like anger. “Listen to me, child. What you doing running down to the island stirring things up? What good you think you gonna do? Is any good gonna come from all this? For you? For your mama? For anybody?”
“I don’t have any choice. I have to know how and why Daddy died. And I have to know why I’m the way I am. You don’t understand that?”
She looks at the floor. “The Lord works in mysterious ways. That’s what I understand. There’s a lot of pain in this world-especially if you born a girl-but it ain’t for us to question all that. We just got to deal with it as best we can.”
“Do you really believe that, Pearlie?”
Her gaze returns to me, her eyes more intense than ever. “I got to believe it. That’s the only thing got me this far.”
“What do you mean ‘this far’? To this house? This job? Working for my grandfather?”
Indignation comes into Pearlie’s face. She speaks in a quavering voice. “I work for this family, not Dr. Kirkland. I came to work for old Mr. DeSalle in 1948, when I was seventeen years old. Your grandmama, your mama, you-you’re all DeSalles. I worked for all of you. Dr. Kirkland just the man who signs my check.”
“Is that all he is, Pearlie? Isn’t he the man who says what goes? Hasn’t he always been?”
She nods somberly. “There’s always a man who says what goes. That’s what people mean when they talk about the Man. And round here, Dr. Kirkland be the Man. Everybody knows that. Now, you gonna tell him you all right or not?”
“You can tell him after I’m gone.” I’m about to turn and go when something Michael said comes back to me, accompanied by a fragmentary image from my dreams-the black figure fighting over my bed with my father.
“Did you pull the trigger that night, Pearlie?”
The whites of the old woman’s eyes grow large. “Have you lost your mind, child? What you think you’re saying?”
“Did you kill my father? That’s what I’m asking you. Did you kill him to protect me from him?”
She shakes her head slowly. “Where you going in that car?”
“To find out the truth about this family.”
“Where you gonna find that?”
“Don’t worry about it. But when I find it, I’ll let you know. And then you can pretend you didn’t know all along.”
Pearlie opens her mouth as if to speak, but no sound emerges.
I shake my head, then turn and run back up the hallway.
I expected to find Billy Neal and my grandfather talking behind the house, but there’s no sign of them. Glancing around the parking lot, I move quickly to the Audi, flicking the electric unlock button as I go.
As I grab the door handle, Billy Neal rises from behind Pearlie’s Cadillac. He’s wearing black jeans, a green silk shirt, and snakeskin cowboy boots. His eyes are as dead as the snakes that adorn his boots, but they lock onto mine with mechanical precision.
“I’ll be damned,” he says. “A lot of people think you’re dead.”
“Is that what you thought?”
A faint smile plays across his lips. “I gave it even money.”
“Why do you hate me, Billy? You don’t even know me.”
He walks up to the Audi and stares at me over the roof. “Oh, I know you. I’ve fucked girls just like you. Pampered princesses, trust fund waiting, never had to worry a day in their damn lives. And still you blow half your
