"I'm not really tired," I said.
"You're more tired than you imagine. Your insides have been turned and twisted. Don't tell me what you are and what you're not," she added sternly. "Go on, take a rest, and we'll see about it all soon enough. One thing about tragedy. It don't forget you for a moment when it visits.'
The bed did look inviting. I walked in and sat on it.
"Make yourself comfortable," she urged. "Get under the comforter. You been riding about in that contraption so long you forgot how to enjoy a real room?" she asked when I hesitated.
"No, ma'am."
"Well, then, do as I say," she said.
I pulled the blanket back, took off my shoes, and slipped in. The pillows felt like clouds beneath my head. I saw her watching me from the doorway for a while. My eyelids drooped and then closed. Minutes later. I was asleep. She was right. My insides had been turned and twisted.
When I opened my eyes again. I thought I was still dreaming. Standing right by the bed and staring down at me with wide eyes was a girl who looked no more than fourteen. She wore a dark blue one-piece dress with a frilly white collar. Her very curly black hair was chopped short and looked as if someone had put a bowl over her head and trimmed it. Even though she had black hair, her eyes were almost Kelly green, She had a rich, peach complexion with a small, slightly turned-up nose, soft, fall lips, and a cleft chin.
I braced myself up on my elbows and wiped my eyes. "Hi," I said.
She continued to stare and then suddenly raised her hands and, with her right forefinger, circled her mouth and pointed the finger at me.
"I don't understand," I said, and she did both gestures again, only more emphatically. She looked as if she might cry if I didn't figure out what she was doing. I thought a moment and then smiled. "Oh. You're asking who I am?" I said, pointing to myself.
She smiled and nodded.
"You're deaf," I whispered to myself. 'My name is April." I said, And then, for some reason. repeated "April" slowly, enunciating each syllable. She obviously studied my lips.
She pressed her fingers down and showed me her palm, then moved her fingers quickly. I shook my head, and she grimaced. Then she thought a moment, went to the drawer of the nightstand and took out a pen and pad. She wrote on it and handed it to me.
She had written "April",
"That's right," I said. "That's my name. Who are you?"
She moved her fingers rapidly three times, and when I shook my head again, she took the pad back and wrote 'Echo".
Echo? Didn't she understand me? I pointed to her again and mimicked her signing "Who?"
She nodded and pointed to the pad.
What a strange name, if that was really her name. I thought, but I smiled at her and nodded.
She smiled back and then watched as I rose out of the bed and slipped on my shoes. Hadn't Brenda called yet? What was happening? Was this little girl Mrs. Westington's granddaughter? Where were her parents? I started for the door, and she immediately seized my hand. It took me by surprise. but I saw she meant only to walk with me.
Mrs. Westington came to the foot of the stairway when she heard me descending. She immediately began to sign with Echo. She looked angry. too. Echo let go of my hand and stopped descending. She looked at me and then turned and ran back up the stairway and down the hall.
"What happened? Who is she?" I asked.
"Never mind who she is. She knows better than to bother guests."
"She didn't bother me," I said. "Didn't anyone call back yet?"
"No. I told you I would call you when they did. didn't I? Come along," she urged. "You can help me prepare dinner, peel potatoes while I shell some peas. I have a roast for tonight"
She didn't wait for my reply. She turned and headed for the kitchen. I looked back and saw Echo peering out of a doorway. As soon as she saw me looking at her, she backed away and closed the door.
What was going on here? I wondered, and continued down the stairway and to the kitchen. The potatoes were in a bucket on the table. the peeler beside it. Mrs. Westington nodded at it. She sat and began to shell the peas.
"Who is she?" I asked as I sat to begin the work.
"She's my granddaughter. She's deaf. Was deaf at birth. My daughter had her out of wedlock and then decided it was too hard to be gallivanting about with a handicapped infant. She lived here with her for nearly four years before she just up and walked out on the both of us one day, supposedly just to have a vacation. That vacation has gone on for nearly ten years next month. So. here I was, a woman in her early sixties, becoming a full-time mother again willy-nilly."