Because we left the mall from a different exit. I was momentarily confused about where I had parked.
I started in one direction and then another. Echo now clinging to my arm with a sickening desperation. We couldn"t shake off the hooting and jeering kids. One of the younger, bolder girls behind us ran to catch up and stepped in front of us.
"Why was she listening to music if she"s deaf?"
she asked with a wide grin on her face. She practically screamed the question so the others would hear. I tried to ignore her, but she followed alongside and repeated the question, punctuating it with a louder "Huh?
Well? Huh?"
Finally. I stopped and turned on her. The others drew closer. "You"re a very cruel person, you know that," I said.
"Cruel? You"re weird. Why did you bring her to a music store?"
"Because she"s never been to one!" I screamed at her. She took a step back. "She"s your age and she"s never heard music. She didn"t even see a music store until recently and she wishes with all her heart she could be like you and be like them." I said. Gesturing at the group behind us. "She was pretending, all right?
She was just pretending that she didn"t have any disabilities at all."
"I still think that"s stupid," the girl replied, angry now that I had made her retreat, "That"s because you"re stupid. Its a shoe that fits and fits well," I said. "Now just leave us alone. Go back to your own deafness."
"Huh? My own deafness? What"s that supposed to mean?"
"Figure it out," I said, and moved Echo forward, "You"re weird! Nuts! Freaks!" the girl shouted after us. A chorus of "Freaks" followed.
For the first time. I thought Echo was better off being deaf.
I couldn"t wait to get us back into my car and drive off. I had a fear they would get into cars and follow us. but I didn"t see any automobiles rushing out after us. so I finally relaxed. Echo looked as if she had retreated into a very private, dark place. She was curled up in her seat, her head down. I had no idea where I should take her now. I simply continued driving until we reached Healdsburg. I drove into the town and, seeing an arts and crafts fair in the square, pulled into a parking spot and asked Echo if she would like to walk about the booths and see the things people were selling. She looked very timid and still frightened, but I urged her to go, hoping to show her good things and wipe away the bad experience we just had. Hesitantly, she got out of the car with me and we began walking through the square looking at the pottery, the paintings, and the handcrafted jewelry. I stopped when I saw a collection of dream catchers.
It brought back memories of Peter Smoke. the Indian boy I had met in school when I lived with Brenda in Memphis. He had given me a dream catcher. but I had left it behind when I fled Brenda"s home.
"What is it?" Echo wanted to know.
I couldn"t think of all the signs for the words I needed. so I borrowed a pen from the handicraft artist and wrote it all out on a slip of paper for her, just the way I remembered :Peter Smoke had told me about it.
The Indians believe that the night air is filled with dreams both good and bad. The dream catcher, when hung over or near your bed swinging freely in the air, catches the dreams as they flow by. The good dreams know how to pa.s.s through the dream catcher, slipping through the outer-holes and sliding down the soft feathers so gently that many times the sleeper does not know that he orshe is dreaming. The bad dreams, not knowing the way, get tangled in the dream catcher and perish as soon as the sun comes up the morning.
She read the note and smiled with incredulity.
"Really? Does it work?" she wanted to knaow. I nodded and then I bought her one.
"We"ll hang it over your bed and you won"t have any more nightmares," I told her.
She blushed. I imagined she was thinking about the night she crawled in beside me. I thought about it, too. Was there any difference between the s.e.xual excitement I had felt then and the excitement I had felt with Tyler? There were still questions about myself I desperately needed to answer, and I knew I wouldn"t find the answers in books or magazines or even talking with more experienced women. These were answers that had to be discovered by myself within myself.
We continued through the arts and crafts festival, pausing to watch an artist create a sculpture out of clay, another painting someone"s caricature, and another showing how she had woven beautiful blankets. There was a booth where you could have your picture taken and put on a mug. Echo thought that was terrific. so I had both our pictures taken and put on mugs.
"We"ll drink from them tonight," I told her when they were completed.
She was smiling widely again, laughing and enjoying herself. Thank goodness for the fair. I thought as we reached the other side of the displays. I was turning her so we could make our way back when I caught sight of Skeeter and Rhona coming out of a tavern at the corner of a side street. Afraid Echo would see them or they would see us, I quickly moved to block her from view, When I glanced back. I saw that two dark-haired men, both stout and rough looking, had followed Rhona and Skeeter and were now facing Skeeter and speaking to him with large, threatening gestures. They were backing him up, one stabbing him repeatedly with his finger in Skeeter"s shoulder. I hurried us along the path of booths. telling Echo we had better get home before her grandmother got worried.
As soon as we were home. Echo couldn"t wait to tell her grandmother about the fair. She mentioned nothing about the mall and neither did I. She went, instead, into a long explanation about the dream catcher and the mugs.
"It"s very nice of you to buy all that for her,"
Mrs. Westington told me. "Let me reimburse you."
"No, please. They"re my gifts to her."
"That"s very nice of you."
The house was filled with the wonderful aromas of all the food she had been making while we were away.
"Something smells delicious," I said.
"I decided to think of this as a form of Thanksgiving," she said. "Maybe if I change my att.i.tude, things will be better. Maybe, just maybe, that girl"s been turned around enough to set her eyes on a decent life for herself here. I fixed a turkey, my special garlic mashed potatoes, cranberries, and asparagus, which used to be Rhona"s favorite vegetable. I took out one of the pies I had frozen as well, the apple. We"ll put some ice cream on it. too.
Rhona used to love that."
She explained it all to Echo and then she asked us to help set the table. I saw that Trevor was definitely going to be at this dinner, which made me happy. Echo considered it all to be a big party, a celebration and confirmation that her mother was back for good. I decided not to say anything about what I had seen back at Healdsburg. I really didn"t know what it was all about anyway, and for the time being I saw no reason not to hitch a ride on Mrs. Westington"s train of hope. I was just so happy she could get herself to be optimistic after all that had happened.
To Mrs. Westington"s deep disappointment, however, Rhona and Skeeter did not return, nor did they call to say when they would be back. Trevor, dressed in what were obviously some of his nicest clothing, arrived at dinnertime. He saw from the look on my face that all was not well, "Just sit yourself down. Trevor," Mrs.
Westington told him. "We won"t be waiting dinner on anyone who doesn"t have the decency to call."
Nevertheless. I saw how she procrastinated and tried to delay the actual start of the meal. Finally, at nearly seven-thirty with no word from Rhona, she decided to begin, and Echo and I helped her bring out the food. Rhona and Skeeter"s empty place settings were difficult to ignore. Hoping to change the mood.
Trevor raved about the food and so did I.
"I"m past the age where I need compliments,"
Mrs. Westinton said.
"You need compliments till the day you die."
Trevor countered. "Everyone needs a pat on the back now and then."
"Well. I won"t hear of it," she said. "And I don"t need to be treated like a disappointed child. I was a fool to harbor any expectations and waste my energy."
"You mean, you didn"t do this dinner for me, April, and Echo?" Trevor teased.
She gave him a look that could sink a battleship and he roared with laughter.
"I have a madman on my property," she told me.
Actually. I thought Mrs. Westington was more depressed because of Echo"s disappointment than because of her own.
Such an elaborate and joyous family dinner as the one Echo had envisioned with her mother present was probably a dream. She nibbled on her food and had to be continually pressed to eat more.
"I wish that girl wouldn"t have come back,"
Mrs. Westington finally muttered. "She"s only made matters worse by giving the child hope."
After dinner Mrs. Westington permitted Echo to do more of the cleanup than usual. Trevor waited in the living room to challenge Echo to a game of checkers, something they often played in the evening.
She played, but she kept looking toward the windows, hoping for headlights to indicate her mother"s arrival.
It didn"t happen and she finally grew tired enough to go upstairs to bed. The sadness brought on fatigue as well. Trevor and I looked at each other. Now that I had the chance. I told him what I had witnessed in Healdsburg.
"There"s the distinct possibility they"re gone,"
he whispered. "Run away."
"I hope so," I said. Looking at Echo"s face. I felt cruel for saying it, but every instinct in me told me that I wasn"t wrong to have that hope.
I followed Echo up because I saw in Mrs.
Westington"s face that she would like me to do so to be sure Echo didn"t burst into tears and cry herself to sleep. One of the most moving things I saw and probably would ever see was when I stood off to the side and watched Echo signing her bedtime prayer.
She did it slowly enough for me to understand she was praying more for her mother than for herself.
After she crawled into bed. I hung her dream catcher and she smiled. Of course, she wanted to know why her mother had not come home.
I explained that to be fair to her, she didn"t know her grandmother had made such a wonderful dinner.
"If she had called, she would have known," she correctly reminded me.
I nodded and, struggling for some excuse, came up with the idea that she probably had met many of her old friends again and wanted to renew her friendships and catch up on the news. For now. Echo accepted that. She gazed up at the dream catcher again and closed her eyes with an expression of comfort and self-a.s.surance on her face. She hugged Mr. Panda.
too. I watched her for a while and then I went downstairs. Trevor had zone to his own quarters. Mrs.
Westington was alone. She was listening to music and knitting.
"I do it just to keep the arthritis at bay," she told me. There was still a half hour to go before I would meet Tyler at the motor home. so I sat with her. She was quiet, but then she suddenly put the knitting down and turned to me. "I know I"m not long for this world, April. My daughter"s unexpected visit has brought home clearly what that means."
"Now, Mrs. Westington..."
"No, no false hopes, no promises, no head in the sand any longer. I can"t have Echo left in the lurch and I certainly can"t have her at the mercy of her selfish mother. I want to talk to Tyler about getting Echo placed in one of those schools quickly and then I"m going to talk to my lawyer about future custody, the money I have in trust, all of it. I"d like you to help me with it all."
"Of course I will," I said.
"Thank you." She lifted the knitting and fixed her eyes on me. "So don"t go thinking about picking up and leaving," she added.
I laughed. Either I wore my heart on my sleeve and had a face that was made of gla.s.s with my thoughts printed on the inside or she was just a good mind reader.
"Like I told you," she said. "your coming here was meant to be."
"Maybe so," I said, thinking about everything.
especially Tyler parking his car in the shadows on the road and making his way through the darkness to meet me in the motor home.
"If you want, turn on the televison."
"No. I"m fine, I"m going over to the motor home," I said. "I still have things to pack. I"ll be getting rid of it any day now."
That was no lie.
She nodded and then stopped knitting. "You never did bring that doll into the house."
"No, but I guess I will, if it"s still all right."
"Considering what else has been brought here,"
she said. smirking, "there"s no reason not to. I"d much rather have that doll around than that Mr. Skeeter,"
"Yes," I said. smiling. "So would I."
I left her knitting, but sinking deeper and deeper into her own thoughts and worries. They were written in the darkening lines on her face and I was truly very concerned about her.
When I stepped outside. I saw that a heavily overcast sky had thickened the darkness. There was just enough of a glow from the house lights to outline the way to the motor home. Tyler had chosen a good night to arrive unseen. I thought. I saw that he hadn"t put on any lights in the motor home either, but as I drew closer. I did see he had lit one of the candles we had in the kitchen. The light flickered in the windows.
He was being so careful. A veil of secrecy had been cast like a net over the motor home and both of us. It made what we were about to do seem even more forbidden.
I opened the door slowly and entered, closing it softly behind me. I realized I was tiptoeing. too. When I looked into the living room. I saw Destiny silhouetted in the shadows. but I didn"t see Tyler. For a moment I had the chilling idea that Destiny had lit the candle.
"Tyler?"
"Back here," I heard. He was in Uncle Palaver"s bedroom. "You could have put on the lights," I said.
"I thought you had to conserve the batteries."
"Yes. I suppose."
I took the candle and made my way back and found him lying on the bed, his hands behind his head.
"Hey," he said. "Hey."
"I see Rhona"s van isn"t there. Did they leave for good?"
"We don"t kniow. They didn"t call or return for dinner. I took Echo for a ride earlier to the mall and then to the fair in Healdsburg."
You were there today? We had some of our product for sale at one of the booths."
"Yes, and while I was there I saw Rhona and Skeeter come out of a tavern. Two men looked like they were threatening him. Maybe because of that, they ran off. When I got back here. I found Mrs.
Westington had prepared a big dinner as a sort of celebration."
"Why? Celebrating what?"
"She was hoping that somehow Rhona would change if she made her feel more at home. I guess.