There was a big crowd at the school by the time we arrived. Yvette, Evelyn, and I hurried into the building to put on our graduation gowns and caps and get into place. Mr. Ternant was as nervous as a gray squirrel, marching up and down the corridor, repeating the same orders, his head bobbing, his hands fluttering like two range chickens spooked by a fox. Finally we heard the first notes from Mrs. Parlange's piano and then Mr. Pitot's accordion. Everyone grew quiet.

"Attention," Mr. Ternant said, holding his right hand up like a general leading his troops to battle. The processional began and his arm lowered, his fingers pointing forward. "Begin!"

We got into step and trailed out to the stage. It seemed brighter than ever, the sun glistening off every shiny surface. Parents and family strained their necks like, egrets to get views of their graduates. Cameras were clicking, babies were crying. I gazed at Mrs. Parlange and saw she was playing the piano as if she were in a concert hall, looking neither to the right or to the left.

Remarkably, we all wove in and out of the aisles of seats to our own and sat orderly when the processional ended. After we were all seated, Mr. Pitot stepped on the stage beside the dignitaries. He gazed at us and then nodded his satisfaction before approaching the microphone. The ceremony, my graduation, was about to begin.

I searched the audience until I spotted Mama. She had kept a seat beside her, but it was empty. My heart sunk. How could Daddy miss my graduation? Please, please, dear God, I prayed, don't let him miss it.

And then my gaze shifted to the right and I saw Monsieur Tate. He was in the first row beside his wife. His eyes were fixed on me, his lips pressed tightly together. The unexpected sight of him put my heart into triple time and took my breath away. I looked at Gladys Tate to see if she noticed how he was staring at me, but she looked like she was bored.

She was very elegantly dressed, however, and had her hair cut and styled, with bubbles of pearls in her ears and around her neck. Gladys Tate was one of the more attractive women in our town. She had a regal stature and always walked and spoke with an air of superiority.

I looked away quickly, closed my eyes and caught my breath.

After Mr. Pitot and Mrs. Parlange played two numbers, Mr. Pitot returned to the stage and made a small speech about us all graduating at one of the most important times in history. He said we had a country to rebuild as soon as the war ended, and because so many young men were away and killed, we had more responsibilities. His words frightened me a bit and made me feel a little guilty about not doing something more with my life. Maybe I should have become a nurse, I thought.

After Mr. Pitot's speech, Theresa Rousseau, our salutatorian, got up and made her speech, followed by the valedictorian, Jane Crump, who had never missed a day of school or gotten a grade lower than ninety-five on a test. She was a short, plump girl with glasses so thick they looked like goggles, but her father was president of the bank and everyone expected he would find her a suitable husband after she had gone to college to become a teacher herself.

Finally it was time to distribute the diplomas. I had been sitting there, twisting my hands together as if I had a roll of yarn in them, afraid to look at Mama and terrified of looking to the right and seeing Mr. and Mrs. Tate. But when I did look at Mama this time, my heart jumped.

There was Daddy sitting beside her, his hair wet and brushed, his best shirt and pants on. He had even shaved. But Mama was not smiling. Daddy was, beaming, and waving at me so much, I had to wave back to stop him from embarrassing Mama. Mr. Pitot began to call out the names of the graduates. My heart began to thump against my chest. I thought for sure when I stood up, my legs would turn to butter and I would sink to the stage floor.

"Gabrielle Landry," Mr. Pitot cried out.

I rose, knowing all eyes were on me, the eyes of Mama's friends and people who respected and thought highly of her, the eyes of those who thought I was La Fille au Nature, and the eyes of Octavious Tate. I couldn't help but glance his way once. He had a small smile on his lips. Gladys Tate was gazing up at me with some interest.

Just as I reached for my diploma, Daddy jumped up in the audience and shouted.

"That there's my daughter, the first Landry to graduate school! Hal-le-luja!"

There was a roar of laughter. I felt my stomach sink to my knees. I turned and saw Mama tugging on Daddy's shirt to get him to sit down. Tears blinded my vision. I took my diploma quickly and ran off the stage and into the school building to escape the laughing eyes. I was supposed to go back to my seat and march away with my class, but I couldn't do it, and it wasn't only because of Daddy's outburst.

Monsieur Tate's eyes had burned through my graduation gown. I had felt naked on that stage, naked and obviously violated. I had felt as if everyone in Houma could see what had happened to me. I ran down the corridor and into the girls' bathroom where I sat on a closed toilet seat and cried, my diploma in my hands. Moments later, Mrs. Parlange came rushing in after me.

"What are you doing? Mr. Ternant is having heart failure out there. You're supposed to go back to your seat and leave the stage with your class. You knew that, Gabrielle. Why are you crying?" she followed, as if she first opened her eyes and saw me.

"I can't go back, Mrs. Parlange. I can't. I'm sorry. I'll apologize to Mr. Ternant later."

"Oh, my dear. Dear, dear," she said, waving her right hand back and forth to fan her face. Bewilderment clouded her expression. "This has never happened before. I really don't know what to do."

"I'm sorry," I wailed.

"Yes, well, yes," she said, and walked out on tiptoes.

I choked back my sobs, feeling as if I had cried dry that bottomless well of tears. Then I took a deep breath and looked at my diploma. How proud Mama was of me and how sick to her stomach she must be right now, too, I thought. I sat there, not sure of what I should do next. My heart stopped racing, finally, and I rose. When I gazed at myself in the mirror, I saw a face flushed and streaked with dry tears. I washed and dried it, took another deep breath, and walked out just as the processional to take the students off the stage had begun. I was at the doorway when they began to enter.

"What happened to you?" Yvette demanded.

"You made a fool out of the whole class," Evelyn said. "What you do, see your ghost boyfriend?"

"What ghost boyfriend?" Patti Arnot asked, which brought a half dozen others around us quickly.

"You'll have to ask her," Evelyn said. "I'm disgusted with her behavior."

"Me too," Yvette said.

It was as if I had broken out with measles. Everyone kept away from me. I retreated to a corner and took off my graduation gown and cap, just as Mr. Tennant came looking for me.

"You graduated," he said angrily before I could apologize, "so I can't punish you, put you on detention, or have you wash blackboards until your fingers turn blue, but what you did out there embarrassed us all, young lady."

"I'm sorry, sir," I said, my eyes down.

"Why did you do such a thing?"

I didn't reply except to say, "I'm sorry."

"Well, it's not a very auspicious way to begin your adult life. I'll take that," he said, seizing the box that contained my gown and cap. "Who knows what you'll do next, and these things are expensive."

He pivoted and marched off. Everyone who heard was glaring at me. Defeat seemed all around me.

I looked away and started for the exit.

"She should have graduated in the swamp with her animal friends instead of us," someone shouted, and everyone laughed. I emerged from the laughter like someone drowning in a murky pool and hurried outside where I found Mama, worried, waiting. Daddy was off to the right shouting at someone who had passed a remark about me.

"I'm sorry, Mama," I said before she could ask why I had run off the stage.

"It's all right, honey. Let's go before your father gets arrested again. Jack!" she cried. He stopped shouting, his fist dangling above him, and looked at us. Then he glared at the man with whom he was arguing.

"Lucky for you I gotta go," he spat.

When he joined us, I realized quickly why Mama had been sitting with a gray face beside him. He reeked of whiskey, despite his clean appearance.

"Why'd you run off like that, Gabrielle?" he asked. "Some of these people think you're as mad as a rabid dog."

"Why do you think she run off?" Mama snapped. "The way you behaved, screaming out like that, everyone laughing at you."

"Is that why? I was just proud, is all. Can't a man be proud of his daughter anymore?"

"Proud's proud, being a fool is just being a fool," Mama replied.

"Aaa, who cares what these stuffy folks think anyway. You looked great up there, Gabrielle. Let's go celebrate."

"Figures you'd get home in time for that, Jack Landry," Mama said.

"Quit whippin' me, woman. A man can take only so much before he explodes."

Mama flicked him a scathing glance. He looked away quickly and fell behind us as we trekked toward home and the party Mama had prepared all by herself.

Fewer people attended than Mama had expected, and none of my classmates appeared. I knew it was because of my behavior and I felt just terrible about it, but Mama wouldn't be discouraged, nor would she permit a single sad face. Her food and the food her friends brought was wonderful. The men and especially Daddy had plenty of homemade whiskey to drink. The Rice brothers provided the music. They played the fiddle, the accordion, and the washboard. People danced and ate until long after nightfall. Every time someone started to leave, Daddy would jump up and grab him by the elbow, urging him to stay.

"The night's young," he declared. "We got lots to drink and eat yet. Laissez les bon temps rouler! Let the good times roll."

I never saw him so excited and happy. He danced one jig after another, dragged Mama out to do the two-step, performed somersaults and handstands, and challenged every man to Indian wrestle.

People ate and scraped their plates clean. The women helped Mama clean up. No one bothered me about what happened at graduation, but most had some sort of advice or another when they stopped to wish me good luck.

"Don't be in a hurry to go and get married. Marry the right man."

"Think about getting a job in the cannery, maybe."

"If I were your age, I'd go to N'orleans and find work, or try to get a job on a steamboat."

"Raise a family when you're young so you're not too old to enjoy life when they finally up and leave."

I thanked everyone. Daddy drank himself into a stupor and fell asleep in the hammock, his arm dangling, his snoring so loud, we could hear him clear across the yard.

"I'm just going to leave him out there," Mama told her friends. "Won't be the first time; won't be the last."

They nodded and went their way. When everyone was gone, I sat with Mama on the galerie for a while. Daddy was still sawing trees in the hammock.

"It was a wonderful party, Mama. But now you're so exhausted."

"It's a good exhaustion. When you do a labor of love, it don't matter how tired you get, honey. The pleasure soothes you and eases you into a restful sleep. It's just too bad your father came soaked with whiskey to your ceremony and embarrassed you that way. It near broke my heart to see you rush off that stage."

"I'm sorry I did that, Mama."

"It's all right. Most people understood."

I had the greatest urge to explain to her why it wasn't just what Daddy had done. I would begin by telling her about Monsieur Tate's eyes on me and then .

But I just couldn't get the words up from the bottom of the trunk I had buried them in.

Mama stood up, gazed at Daddy for a moment, shook her head, and started to go into the house.

"You coming, Gabrielle?"

"In a while, Mama."

"Don't think you're not exhausted too, honey," she warned.

"Oh, I know I am, Mama."

She smiled and we hugged.

"I'm darn proud of you, sweetheart. Darn proud."

"Thank you, Mama."

She went in and I stepped off the galerie and walked around to the dock. I took off my moccasins to dip my feet in the water and sat there for a while, listening to the cicadas and the occasional hoot of an owl. From time to time I heard a splash and saw the moonlight glimmer off the back of a gator sliding along the oily surface of the water and into the shadows.