"One day he went into the swamps to fish and never returned."

"Are you saying your mother said the man who kissed you was a ghost?" Yvette asked. I nodded.

"It's why I never heard him approaching. He glided on the air, I think."

Neither Yvette nor Evelyn spoke for a moment.

"Did he feel like a ghost when he kissed you?" Evelyn inquired skeptically.

"No. He felt real, very real."

"Did you ever see him again?"

"No, but sometimes I think I sense him."

"You still go out alone?" Yvette asked, incredulous. "Yes. He didn't hurt me. Mama says he's a lonely soul.

Punished for being too much like a Greek god. The story she remembers from her grandmère is, the day he finds someone who can see the goodness in his heart and love him for that and not for his good looks, that's the day he can return to the world to live out his life, but . . ."

"But what?" Evelyn asked.

"Yes, but what?" Yvette followed.

"But whoever does love him that way dies and takes his place in the swamp. It's sort of an exchange of souls for a while."

"How horrible."

"And dangerous," Yvette said. "You had better not go into the swamp alone so much."

"I don't," I said. "As much."

"I don't know if that counts," Evelyn declared after a moment's thought. "Kissed by a ghost isn't the same thing as being kissed by a live man."

"How do you know?" Yvette said. "Only Gabrielle knows for sure."

"It felt wonderful at the time," I replied. "Now, remember. You swore on Saint Medad, and if you violate this oath, you might bring bad luck to your husbands."

They were wide-eyed. The daughter of a traiteur had some credibility when it came to this sort of thing.

"I'll never tell," Yvette said.

"Me neither."

"I got to go home. See you tomorrow."

"Oui. See you tomorrow," Evelyn said.

I watched them hurry off and then continued down the road. In my heart I wished that what had happened to me yesterday was what I had described to them. It was my fantasy, and for a while at least, I would use it to cloak the ugly truth.

When I arrived home, I found Mama doing just what I feared she would be doing: slaving over the stove, chaining herself to the kitchen to prepare for my graduation celebration. She told me she had already sent word to a dozen of her friends and people she often treated.

"Some are offering to make food, too. It's going to be a great party, honey. We'll have music and loads of good food."

"I wish you wouldn't do this, Mama."

"Let's not start that again. It's my time in the sun and it should be your father's time, too."

"Has he been home?"

"Not that I know," she replied, and dove into her labor of love to keep from thinking and being angry. Seeing I was not going to change her mind, I offered to help, but she refused to permit it.

"It's your party. You earned it; you just enjoy yourself," she insisted. I couldn't stand by and watch her work, so I went out to our dock and sat with my feet dangling in the water, watching and hoping for the sight of Daddy poling his pirogue up the canal to home. But he never came. At dinner Mama was mumbling to herself something awful.

"That man has gone bad, gone sour like warm milk. Nothing's going to change him. He'll be the death of all of us. Truth is, I hope he never comes home," she declared, but I knew she was heartbroken about it. She sat on the galerie in her rocker after dinner and glared at the darkness, waiting for one of those shadows to take Daddy's form.

I put the finishing touches on my graduation dress and put it on to show Mama. She shook her head and smiled.

"You're so beautiful, Gabrielle, it makes my heart pound."

"Oh, Mama, I'm not. And besides, you told me dozens of times that pride's a sin."

"You don't have to go overboard and fall in love with yourself, but you can be thankful and happy you've been blessed with such natural beauty. You don't understand," she added when I looked down and blushed. "You're my redemption. When I look at you, at least I can feel something good came out of my marriage to that scoundrel we call your daddy."

I looked up sharply. "He tries to be good, doesn't he, Mama? He thinks about it."

"The most I can say for him, honey, is it's beyond him. It's in his blood. The Landrys were probably first cousins to Cain." She sighed. "I got no one to blame but myself for the pot I'm boiling in," she said.

"But if the Landry blood is so powerful and evil, won't I be evil, too, Mama?" I asked fearfully.

"No," she said quickly. "You got my blood in you, too, don'tcha?"

"Yes, Mama."

"Well, my blood overpowers even the wicked Landry blood." She took my hand into hers and drew me closer so her eyes could look deeply into mine. "When evil thoughts come to mind, you think of me, honey, and my blood will come rushing over those thoughts, drowning them. If it don't . . ."

"Yes, Mama?"

"Then maybe what you're thinking ain't so evil after all," she said. Then she took a deep breath as if the advice had drained her of the little energy that remained after so hard a day of cooking and baking. She also did a lot of cleaning around the shack so it would look as presentable as possible to our guests tomorrow.

"You're tired, Mama. You should go to sleep."

"Oui. I should," she admitted. She sighed, gazed into the darkness for a moment, her gaze sliding over the shadows in search of Daddy, and then she rose with great effort. We went into the shack together and upstairs.

"Tonight's the last night you go to bed a little girl," Mama told me after I got into bed. She sat at my feet for a few moments. "Tomorrow you graduate. You're a young woman now." She started to hum a Cajun lullaby, one she used to sing to me when I was a little girl.

"Mama?"

"Yes, honey."

"Before you met Daddy, did you have any other boyfriends?"

"I had a number of young men on my tail," she said, smiling. "My father would shoo them away like flies."

"But . . . did any of them become your boyfriend?"

"Oh, I had my little romances."

"Did you . . ."

"Did I what, honey?"

"Did you kiss and do things with the other boys?"

"What kind of a question to ask is that, Gabrielle?" she said, pulling her shoulders up. She held a small smile, however.

"I just wondered if that was what was supposed to be."

"Kissing and things is supposed to be, if that's what you mean, but you got to remember what I told you my grandmère told me: 'Sex, Catherine,' she used to say, 'is just Nature's little trick to bring the two people right for each other together.' "

"What if people who aren't right for each other have sex?" I pursued, speaking softly, afraid that if I spoke too loudly or too fast, the magic moment during which Mama would tell me intimate things would burst and be gone.

"Well then, it's just sex. It might make them feel good for the moment, but afterward," she said with a scowl, "they'll feel they lost a little of something precious, something of themselves. That's what I believe. I suppose," she added, raising her right eyebrow, "your girlfriends would laugh at that, n'est-ce pas?"

"I don't know, Mama. I don't care what they think."

She stared at me a moment. "You want to tell me something, Gabrielle, something gnawing at your insides?"

The words were on my tongue, but I swallowed them back.

"No, Mama. I just wondered, that's all."

She nodded. "Just natural. Trust your instincts," she said. "You got good ones. Well, good night, Miss Graduate," she said, and leaned over to kiss my cheek. I held on to her a bit longer than I should have, and Mama's eyebrows went up again, her eyes sharp and small.

"I'm always willing to listen and help you, honey. Don't ever forget that," she said.

"I know, Mama. Good night."

"Good night," she said, and got up even though I sensed she wanted to remain there until I told her what was behind my dark eyes.

I thought about Mama's words and wondered what part of myself I had left in the swamp. My worrying caused something hard and heavy to grow in my chest, making it ache. I put my palms together under my chin, closed my eyes, and prayed.

"Please, dear God," I muttered, "forgive me if I did anything to cause this evil thing to happen to me."

I tried to throw off the dreary feelings. Fatigue closed my eyes, but sleep was driven back by my tossing and turning. Anticipating the excitement of tomorrow, worrying about what had happened, worrying about Daddy and about Mama, kept me wide awake until the wee hours of the morning. The sun was actually turning the inky sky into a shade of red slate when I finally drifted into a deep repose. I woke to Mama's shaking the bed.

"Gabrielle, you can't oversleep this morning!" she said, laughing.

"Oh. Oh, what time is it?" I looked at the clock and leaped out of bed.

We were getting our final report cards, turning in our books, saying our good-byes today, the last day of school.

"Go wash the sleep out of that face in the rain barrel," Mama ordered. "I'll have some breakfast for you."

"Did Daddy come home?" I asked.

"No. You would have smelled him if he had," she offered, and went down to make breakfast.

I washed my face in the rainwater, brushed my hair, and put on my clothes. Mama was mumbling about all the things she was still going to do in preparation for my graduation party. Every once in a while she would break to complain about Daddy.

"He better be back here today and make himself presentable for the ceremony," she warned.

"He will, Mama. I'm sure."

"You have faith in everyone and everything," Mama said. "You'd even give a snapping turtle a second chance."

I couldn't help it. Today, of all days, I wanted to think only good and happy thoughts.

There was a storm of excitement at school: torrents of laughter and giggling, smiles raining down over us, our hearts thumping like thunder. The classrooms only calmed down when Mr. Pitot visited them. Everyone sat with his or her hands folded, backs straight as we were taught, eyes forward. Some chairs squeaked.

Mr. Pitot congratulated us on a fine year, complimented the students who maintained high grades and who never misbehaved. He warned us about our behavior at the ceremonies.

"The public will be our guests. Parents, family members, friends, will all have their eyes on you, on us. It is incumbent upon us to put on our best faces."

I turned and saw Jacques Bascomb put his tongue under his upper lip so he resembled a monkey. It was hard to believe that some of the boys in my class would be out working and raising families in less than a year's time.

School ended after the morning session so we could all go home and get into our graduation clothes. When I arrived and found Mama setting up tables for our guests outside, I knew Daddy had not returned yet.

"Mama, this is too much for you to do by yourself," I complained.

"It's all right; honey. I'm fine. When you have your heart soaking in happiness, you don't feel the labor."

"But afterward you will," I chastised.

"Listen to you," she said, standing back with her hands on her small hips. "Just graduated and already bossy."

"I'm not being bossy. I'm being sensible, Mama."

"I know, honey. Okay. I'll wait for help 'fore I do anything heavy. That's a promise," she said. I hoped she would keep it. I saw the palms of her hands were red from lifting and sliding the tables and chairs. Where was Daddy? How could he be so inconsiderate?

I went inside and after eating only half of the po'boy sandwich Mama had prepared for my lunch, I got into my dress and fixed my hair again. Then I went outside and sat on the galerie, waiting for the time to pass and hoping to see my daddy come walking up to the house, full of apologies, but eager to help make this one of the happiest days of our lives.

He never showed.

Mama put on her best dress and brushed and pinned her hair. We stalled and waited as long as we could. Finally she emerged, her face burning with fury, those eyes ready to sear through Daddy's and set his soul on fire.

"Let's go, honey. We don't want you to be late," she said.

I didn't mention Daddy. We both started down the road. When we joined the Thibodeaus and Livaudises, they asked about Daddy.

"He'll meet us at the festivities," Mama said, but anyone could see that shadows had come to darken and pain Mama's happiness. No one asked why. They all looked at each other and knew the answer anyway.