She opened the door and called to Octavious and Daddy. Daddy came in first, and by the look of delight on his face, I saw he was satisfied with the offer he had gotten.

"Is everything settled?" Gladys asked Octavious. He nodded unhappily.

"I got to get back to work," he said.

"Yes, sir, you go back to work," Daddy told him, and patted him on the back. "I don't want you going bankrupt. Not now." He winked at me. "Come on, Gabrielle. We got to tell your mother what we decided here."

"I told her I want her back here at midnight tonight," Gladys said. "She's to come to the front door herself, understand, monsieur?"

"Sure. What's there to understand?" Daddy said. Then he scowled. "If I hear you don't treat her right, the deal's off," he countered.

She simply smirked. It was as if a fly had threatened an alligator.

"Remember," she told me. "No one is to know and you are to bring very little."

"Yes, madame."

Octavious left first. Daddy stood in the entryway a moment and gazed around, nodding.

"Not a bad place to be living in for a few months, eh, Gabrielle? I'm sure you'll have good things to eat and all."

"Yes, Daddy. Let's go," I urged. He sauntered to the door and then turned on Gladys.

"Don't think any of this makes it all right. It's still a crime, what he done."

Gladys didn't change expression, but her eyes full of accusations shifted to me. I opened the door and stepped out quickly, Daddy following with a wide grin. But when we got into the truck and started away, he stopped smiling.

"You got to help me convince your mama about this, Gabrielle. She's gonna think it's some plan I hatched to make more money. You be sure to tell her it was Gladys Tate's idea, not mine, hear?"

"I will, Daddy."

"Good," he said. And then, thinking about the money, he did break into a wide smile again.

"Is it a lot of money?" I asked.

"What? Oh. Well, not as much as I would have liked, but it will do fine. make sure your mother has a bundle to stash and then I'll buy us some things for the house and maybe even a new truck and tools for me so I can get more work."

"That's good, Daddy," I said. I gazed back at the mansion and thought at least something good has come out of this terrible thing.

Mama said nothing for a few long, heavy. moments. She listened to what Daddy told her, spewing it all in nearly one breath, and then she looked at me and got up from the table to go stand by a window. The plank shutters were open and the breeze blew the cheesecloth we had hung over it so that it flapped about her.

"I don't like it," she finally said. "It don't sound natural, her pretending to be having a baby and all."

"What?" Daddy's eyes bulged as he floundered. "Here we are getting all this money, Gabrielle don't have to walk in broad daylight with her stomach out a mile and take the stares and gossip, and there's a good place for the baby, and you don't like it?"

"Most women I know wouldn't be so gracious about it and want to keep the child as their own, Jack."

"Well, look at the women you know. They ain't got her class. Am I right, Gabrielle?" he asked, and nodded. "Go on, tell her."

"I think it's for the best, Mama. She told me so far she hasn't been able to get pregnant. She blames herself, and I think that's why she's not so hard on Octavious and why she wants to keep the baby."

Mama stared at me a moment. "You understand quite a lot for a young woman, Gabrielle. You're growing up so fast," she said, shaking her head. "But it ain't right this way."

"What you complaining about now, woman? That the child got good sense? Well, she inherited it from you," Daddy offered.

"That, I believe, Jack Landry," she said, fixing her eyes on him. "How much money did they offer you? Come on, tell me quick and no lies."

"Five thousand dollars!" he said. "How's that?"

Mama was impressed, but she still shook her head sadly. "Blood money," she said. "I don't feel right taking it, Jack."

"Well, you're not taking it. I'm taking it," he said. "And it's just your luck I see fit to give some of it to you and do things around here you wanted me to do," he added.

"It's still the same as if I took it."

"Gabrielle," he cried, throwing up his hands. "Will you talk sense into this mother of yours? I'm about outta steam."

"Mama, it's the best solution and at least something good will come from it. Gladys Tate is going to let you visit me, pretending you're treating her."

"What will I tell people about your not being here?" she asked, relenting somewhat.

"You'll tell them she went to visit my brother's family in Beaumont," Daddy suggested. "That'll do just fine, no?"

"No. My friends know I would never let her go visit a Landry," Mama replied. "I'm not a good liar anyway. Don't have your experience, Jack."

"Then don't say nothing. It ain't none of their business anyhow."

"You can tell them I went to visit with your aunt Haddy, Mama. I've always wanted to visit her anyway. It's almost not a lie."

Mama laughed. "You're getting to sound like him," she said, but kept her smile. She walked over to me and stroked my hair and then kissed my forehead. "Poor child. You don't deserve this. It wasn't your fault, but it isn't the first time and it won't be the last something unfair happens in this world. You sure you want to do this?"

"Yes, Mama."

She took a deep breath with her hand on her heart. "You just promise me if you're not happy, you'll come home no matter what, Gabrielle."

"I promise, Mama."

She sat again. "When you supposed to go?"

"Tonight at midnight," I said. She looked frightened, her eyes growing glassy. "It will be fine, Mama."

She bit down on her lower lip and nodded, swallowing back her tears. It made my chest ache.

I went upstairs to choose the few things I would bring with me. I decided to take the pictures of Mama and Daddy when they were first married. I packed some underthings, two nightgowns, three dresses, another pair of moccasins, some ribbons for my hair, my combs and brushes. While I was choosing things, Mama prepared a package that contained her homemade soap, some herbs she wanted me to take with my meals, and a small statue of Saint Medad. I put some books and magazines in my bag and a pad and pen for writing my journals and doodling. I was sure Gladys Tate would give me other things to do when I asked. I could embroider and weave to pass the time.

That evening Mama prepared one of my favorite meals: her crawfish etouffée. She kept busy to keep from worrying and made some lace cookies. Daddy had gone to town to shop for some of the things he was planning to buy with the money. He returned with a box of chocolates and a bottle of French toilet water for Mama. It had been a while since I had seen him so buoyant and happy. He cleaned himself up for dinner and wore his best shirt and pants. As we ate, he rattled on and on about things we should do in the house.

"What'cha say we buy a new stove, Catherine?"

"The one I have is fine, Jack."

"Well, that ain't the point. I was thinking we would get one of them new radios and maybe I'll get you one of them Mixmasters so you don't have to stand over the bowl and churn and churn all day, how's that? And what about one of them whatchamacallits that suck dirt up?"

"You need electricity for all those things, Jack," Mama reminded him dryly.

"Well, we'll get the electricity now. I got the money coming, don't I?"

"Don't spend it all in one day, Jack," Mama warned.

"Oh, I know that. I'm giving you a stash, but I'll need some money to invest. Can't live off five thousand forever, you know," he said as if he were already a big businessman. "Maybe instead of a truck and tools, I'll see about getting me my own shrimp boat with a down payment or—"

"Stop it," Mama said. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"What? What I do?"

She got up from the table and ran out the front door. "What I do?" Daddy asked me, his arms out.

"It's all right, Daddy. Let me talk to her."

I followed her. She was sitting in her rocker, staring at the darkness.

"Mama."

"I can't abide him sitting there gloating over all the things he's going to do with that money, Gabrielle. I'm sorry. It's tainted money, no matter what," she insisted.

"I know, Mama. But it's not the money that matters so much. It's having a good place for the baby and keeping the shame from our door. Gladys Tate is right: Even though it's not my fault, people will think bad things about me, and what good man will want to know me?"

"She said that?"

"Yes, Mama."

"She really wants this baby, don't she?"

"It certainly seemed that way, Mama."

Mama sighed deeply and then held out her arms. I knelt beside her and buried my face against her bosom the way I used to when I was just a little girl and she held me close and rocked a bit. Then she kissed the top of my head.

"All right," she said. "I'll be all right. Just tell him to stuff his mouth with a pound of hemp."

I laughed and hugged her again. Mama was my best friend. There would be no one like her in the world for me, ever. It was knowledge that made me happy, but sad too, for I knew I would lose her someday and have to face mornings and days, nights and the stars, without her wisdom and comfort, her love and her smiles. It would be like a cloud forever and ever blocking the sun.

We returned and finished our meal. Daddy had sense enough to be quiet and went out back to smoke his corncob pipe and muse about his newfound wealth. After we cleaned the kitchen and dishes, Mama and I went back to the galerie and talked. She told me what it had been like when she was pregnant and how my birth went. She told me about the two babies her mother had lost, one in a miscarriage and one in a silent birth. I had never known it.

Just about eleven-thirty, Daddy appeared to tell me it was near the time.

"How's this going to work?" Mama asked.

"I just drive her up there and she goes into the house herself, right, Gabrielle?"

"That's right, Mama."

"You see that she goes in safely, Jack."

"Of course I will," he snapped. "I don't care how rich them folks are. They ain't going to do nothing to make Jack Landry upset," he threatened.

"It's not Jack Landry I'm worrying over," Mama retorted.

"I'll go get my things, Daddy," I said, and hurried upstairs. I stood in my room for a while and gazed around. It wasn't a big room, but it was cozy and warm and the place where I had suffered through my childhood illness, cried my tears of frustration, dreamed my fantasies, and had some wonderful conversations with Mama at night. It was where she had sung her lullabies to me and where she had tucked me in and made me feel safe. Tonight would be the first night of my life that I would sleep someplace else. I choked back my tears, for fear I would upset Mama more than she already was upset. Then I said a silent prayer for her and for Daddy and for me and left my room quickly, not looking back.

Daddy turned off the truck's headlights when we reached the entrance to The Shadows's driveway. Then he drove very slowly over the gravel. A heavy layer of dark clouds had come pouring in from the Gulf, drawing a sheet of thick raven darkness to shut out the twinkling stars I often looked to for comfort. Now the sky looked like a giant inkwell, purple-black, deep and endless. It stirred me with a strange sense of foreboding as we drew closer and closer to this magnificent Cajun mansion. I knew that under any other circumstances, I would love simply visiting such a home, much less actually living in one for a while.

With only a light on here and there, the house appeared dismal, ominous. Its roof loomed in a silhouette against the ebony sea of clouds. Off to the right, I could hear the plaintive howl of a chained hound dog, and in the distance I could see lightning around the thunderheads. Bats swooped over the driveway, clicking their wings with a mechanical precision as they dipped to scoop up an insect invisible to my eyes. When Daddy turned off the engine, we could hear the monotone symphony of the cicadas.

Daddy was a bit more agitated than usual. After he had brought the truck to a stop, he kept his gaze locked on the front door of the mansion while he spoke.

"Well," he said, "I guess this here's good-bye for a while, Gabrielle. I know you'll be in good hands. Don't take no guff from no one, hear?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Your mother will be visiting you shortly and bring back a report."