mother who could send a gardener to pick up her
ailing daughter? Was this to be my punishment for
somehow contributing to little Claude's death? I
couldn't wait to get home to fill that pillowcase, and
that was just what I rushed to do as soon as Ricardo drove up to the front door. I practically leaped out of
the car.
"I thought you were sick to your stomach." he
called after me.
I charged up the stairs, into the house, and up
the stairway to my room. For a moment I just stood in
the middle and turned in circles. What would I take?
What couldn't I stand to leave behind? Did it matter
that much? Wasn't I ever coming back?
I started to choose toiletries and realized how
foolish that was. Take only things you can't buy on
the road, Hannah. I told myself and began to sift
through my clothing. A pillowcase never looked as
small to me as when I was trying to put in another
skirt and another blouse. And shoes! I loved this pair
and that. Didn't I need more than one pair of
sneakers? What if we go into a much colder climate
for a while? I should have a pair of boots. shouldn't I? Pictures? No. none. I would just cry over them.
I thought. What about dolls? There was that rag doll
that Mommy gave me years ago, telling me my
grandmother had made it for her and had modeled the
doll's face after Mommy's from pictures she had. Was
it wrong to take that doll out of this house? What if I
somehow lost it?
No. I decided. I had to say goodbye to it for a
while, perhaps a long, long while. No dolls, no