.
While Noble slept. Mommy left to get what she
needed to make his cast. Of course. I couldn't go along. She told me that it would be this way for a long time now. Whenever she went to shop for things we needed, she would have to leave me and Noble behind, and it would be my responsibility to watch over him even more. She said it would be like that until he was able to use a crutch and get around easily.
I was in the kitchen cleaning up \lien I heard the front door open and then slam shut so hard, the house shook. I stepped out and saw her marching down the hallway, her hair wild, her face red.
"What is it. Mommy?" I asked, practically cringing as she flew by.
"That sister of Taylor's," she ranted. "is going around and telling peoplesomehow responsible for what happened to him. Like I'm a witch or something. I dazzled
and beguiled him to the point where he didn't know what he was doing. Forget that two drunken teenagers did this. That doesn't matter. Just what she says about me matters, and people are so ready to believe anything bad about someone else, you know, especially these people in this... this narrow-minded small town. I hate these people. We're not going to have anything to do with this
community," she vowed. "I'll do all my shopping far away always, and we'll not call on anyone around here for any help. Were alone more than ever, but that's fine with me," she continued.
I didn't say anything, but I told myself that our chances of getting to go to the public school in our community just dropped into a sewer.
She was livid with rage and rambled on about the ignorance of some people while I watched her prepare the cast. She looked as if she had done it many times before. although I had never heard about anyone else in the family breaking his or her leg. Mommy knew how to do so many things. I thought. and I wondered if I would ever be as independent and as strong as she was.
For a while Noble was at least intrigued with a cast on his leg. Mommy kept him as quiet and still as she could. She gave him sponge baths, helped him go to the bathroom, and had me bring him all his meals and anything else he wanted. After a while I think he just enjoyed ordering me about the house to get him this or that. If I dared voice any reluctance to do something he wanted, he would whine to Mommy and she would lecture me about how important it was to keep him happy, how that would hasten his recovery, and how it was my responsibility-- clearly, my, fault -- that he had suffered the broken leg.
I didn't argue. I did what he wanted. and I read to him as much as I could and as much as he would tolerate, but he wasn't one to stand still before he broke his leg. It was quite impossible for him to continue this way now. Mommy finally realized that, and together, we eventually brought him and all of his things downstairs. I was as happy as he was because it made things easier for me. and I had our room all to myself.
Mommy prepared a place for him in the living room and reluctantly gave in and permitted him to play with his electric trains. For some reason she had wanted anything that reminded us of Mr. Kotes to be put away and forgotten. but Noble never stopped asking for his trains. I had to sit and watch him play with them for hours, fixing cars and tracks, creating tunnels out of cardboard, and pretend to be as interested in it all as he was. Mommy watched us, but she didn't look happy. It gave me the willies. I felt like I was touching something contaminated, but we had to keep Noble occupied so he would recuperate.
She even began to permit him to watch more television. Our school lessons continued, but his attention span was so reduced, she reduced our class hours and then had me help him with homework. He hated working in the booklets and, although he could draw well, was very sloppy with his writing, not taking care to keep his script on the lines. Mommy usually made him write things over when he did that, but she was far more lenient with him now and he got away with lots more.
Without Mr. Kotes coming around, and with Noble confined and cranky most of the time, our house felt like a big cage locking us away from the world. Aside from the postman, some utility people, and the occasional car that paused on the highway so the travelers could gape at our house and property, we saw no one. Of course no casual callers came to our door. At the start of our driveway, there was a big sign that read KEEP OFF. PRIVATE PROPERTY. NO TRESPASSING. The phone rarely rang. The one time I remember it ringing and Mommy talking was the time the administration at the home where Daddy's father was living called to let her la-low that he had died. With Daddy gone, we never spoke about his father. and I had forgotten all about him.
"He died long ago," I heard her tell whomever it was that called.
She left to make arrangements, but we never attended any funeral. Mommy took care of the burial, and that was that. I had hardly known my grandfather, so it was hard to feel any sadness. I told myself at least now he was with Daddy.
To keep Noble occupied even more. Mommy went and bought a wheelchair. He enjoyed having me push him about the house and then outside through the back door because there were only two steps to navigate. Once outside, he demanded to be pushed everywhere, and that was not easy. If I complained or protested, he whined and screamed until I made an superhuman effort and rolled him up a hill or through the gravel.
I was more grateful and happier than he was when Mommy finally let Noble get around on a crutch. In the beginning he thought that was fun. He even turned the crutch into an imaginary friend upon whose shoulder he would lean. Billy Crutch, he called it and would tease me, telling me Billy Crutch didn't like me to touch him or Billy Crutch wanted me to do this or do that. Mommy let him paint the crutch the same colors he had painted the broomstick he had called his magic wand.
Consequently, he no longer complained much about any pain, although he was always moaning and groaning about itching. He didn't eat as much as he normally ate, and he grew thinner. We were still about the same height, although my added chores made me tougher, stronger. Noble used to be the one who brought in firewood, for example, and now I was doing it.
I wondered how much Mommy missed Mr. Kotes. She never played any music, and she let her hair grow uneven, not trimming her bangs. She no longer put on any lipstick and went days wearing the same house-dress. I felt sorry for her, but her lack of companionship seemed to bother her less and less as time went on. She kept busy looking after the house, making our meals, washing our clothing. Sometimes she wanted me to help, and sometimes she resented me working beside her and lessening her load. It seemed she wanted to be busy and occupied. If I was around her too long, she chided me about not paying enough attention to Noble. I knew she believed that as long as I was right by his side, nothing more terrible would happen to him.
I was as vigilant as I could be. but I was bored most of the time. and Noble was very unhappy about being confined either to the house or just outside. If he dared start toward the woods. Mommy would scream and then rage at me for permitting him to even contemplate doing such a thing. What could I do but pull his crutch out from under him, his Billy Crutch?
"I don't know why she's so upset." Noble complained. "I'm not going to climb any trees, at least not for a while."
"She doesn't trust the shadows," I told him, and he grimaced and shook his head. None of it made any sense to him. He was like a wild bird, caged and told it was for its awn good.
However, one night soon after. Mommy came charging up the stairs and burst into our room. Noble had gotten so he could move about much more easily and navigate the stairway, too, so he was back upstairs. We were just getting ready for bed when she threw open our doorway and stood there, breathing hard, her eyes wide, her face flushed. Her hair looked like she had been running her fingers through it for hours. Neither Noble nor I spoke. We froze and gaped at her. After a moment, she caught her breath and looked at me.
"Did you see anything, hear anything?" "No. Mommy," I said.
She looked so hard at Noble that he stepped back and closer to me.
"Your father," she said in a whisper that seemed to come from somewhere deep down in her throat. "he told me we should be especially alert and careful. Especially you. Celeste," she added, nodding at me.
I felt a sheet of ice slide down my back. I couldn't swallow. I couldn't move. She looked up at the ceiling and let her eves sweep the room while she embraced herself.
"Me?"