"I did what I had to do to speak with Nina."
"You spoke to her?" I was astonished that she could believe in such a thing.
"Yes, and then she spoke to me through the cat. I know what I must do."
"What, Mommy? What did she tell you to do?"
"It's not for me to tell anyone else, darling Pearl. Only know this: I love you and your father and your brother more than I love my own life."
"Mommy, what are you going to do? I'm frightened."
"There's nothing to be frightened of, not anymore," she said with a smile. Then she hugged me. "My sweet, darling Pearl," she said wiping strands of hair from my forehead. "You deserve better than to be born under so many dark clouds. But soon, soon, we'll have sunshine again. I promise."
"Mommy, you must tell me what you think you should do. Please. I won't tell Daddy."
"It will be all right. You have to have faith, Pearl. I know you have a scientific mind, but you must have faith in things that are beyond microscopes, beyond the laws of nature, too. You must believe in things you cannot see, for there is something behind the darkness, waiting, watching. Believe and do not be afraid," she said. Then she closed her eyes.
"Mommy . ."
"I'm tired. Let's talk tomorrow. Okay? Now let me slip into bed without waking Daddy. Get some rest, honey. Go on," she prodded.
I bit down on my tongue to keep myself from asking more questions as I watched her cross to her bedroom. She seemed to float through the doorway and was gone.
My heart was beating fast, and it was difficult for me to breathe and not be drowned by everything that was happening so fast. I hated the thought of betraying Mommy, but I was convinced that I had to tell Daddy about this night and the things she had said. He had to take more interest in what she was thinking and doing and stop being so angry about it.
I spent a restless night, tossing and turning, waking and falling back into a deep sleep like drifting. Although I was exhausted, I welcomed the soft kiss of sunlight on my face and rose quickly to wash and dress so I could hear happy voices, and smell the scent of morning blossoms. The memories of last night felt so vague that I thought perhaps I had dreamed all of it; but when I looked at my sneakers, I saw the dirt from the cemetery and a chilling shiver ran down my spine.
To my surprise I discovered that Daddy had risen early and had already left the house to go to his office. Mommy hadn't come downstairs. I waited for her and finally went back upstairs to see how she was doing. I saw she was still fast asleep. Poor thing, I thought, tormenting herself so. I closed the door softly and returned to...the dining room to eat my breakfast. Mommy still had her eyes closed when I looked in on her again, but I entered the bedroom and stood by her side, watching her chest rise and fall in a slow rhythm. As I turned to leave, she groaned, opened her eyes, and sat up.
"Good morning, Mommy," I said.
She raked the room with her eyes as if she had forgotten where she was. Before she responded, she rubbed her forehead vigorously as if to erase her lingering dreams. Then she took a deep breath and brushed back her hair. "Good morning, honey. What time is it? Oh, dear," she said, gazing at the clock on her nightstand. "I hope your father isn't waiting for me before he has his breakfast."
"No, he rose early and has already gone to work."
"Work?" She thought a moment and nodded.
"Good. That's what he needs to do . . . keep himself busy. You too, honey. I want you to go back to work at the hospital."
"Not yet, Mommy. I want to devote as much time as possible to Pierre."
"Don't worry about Pierre. He's going to be fine," she said with confidence and that strange half smile she had been wearing ever since Jean's funeral.
I returned to her bedside. "What did you mean last night when you told me you knew what had to be done now, Mommy? What exactly are you planning on doing? What did that voodoo lady tell you?"
"Oh, it's just some harmless chants and rituals, Pearl. You need not worry. Let me indulge myself in my old beliefs. It doesn't do anyone any harm and who knows . . . As I always told you, you shouldn't discount any one else's faith." She dropped her half smile and grew concerned. "You didn't tell your father about last night, did you, Pearl?"
"No, Mommy. He was already gone by the time I went downstairs this morning."
"Good. Please don't say anything, darling. He's so emotionally fragile as it is. One more thing could push him over the edge. You don't want that, do you?"
"But, Mommy, going to cemeteries at night . ."
"I promise I won't go there again. Okay? Come here, honey," she said and reached out for me. I stepped closer, and she took my hand. "You and I have always had a deep bond between us, haven't we? We have always trusted each other entirely." "Yes, Mommy."
"Trust me, then, Pearl. Please," she pleaded, her eyes soft and loving.
"All right, Mommy. As long as you don't go back there."