Twisted Roots (DeBeers 3)

With Heyden's help. I pulled out the sofa bed and dressed it in the new linen and new pillows and pillow-cases. I fixed Uncle Linden's blanket for him, hoping he would soon wake up himself.

After that Heyden took his bedding and worked an the bed in the cabover. Then he turned off the movie, and Uncle Linden's eyes fluttered open. We both held our breaths. Would he finally realize where he was and what we had done? How would he take it? "Oh," he said, scrubbing his cheeks and looking at where he was. "fell asleep. did I?"

"Your bed is all ready, Uncle Linden. I set out your new pajamas. too.'

"I see that. Thanks. Hannah." He rose, gazed around, nodded, and smiled, then went into the bathroom.

Heyden and I let out simultaneous breaths of relief. Falling asleep had not left him confused. He was still quite aware of everything.

A few moments later Uncle Linden emerged and slipped into his bed.

"Comfortable?" I asked, completing a final cleanup and organization of our tiny kitchen. "Absolutely. Sweet dreams everybody," he called. Heyden was up and in his bed.

I started for mine.

"Hannah," Uncle Linden said.

I paused and turned to him. "Yes. Uncle Linden."

"It just occurred to me. This is the first time you and I have slept under the same roof. It's nice," he said. smiling. "Very nice."

I smiled through my teary eyes of happiness. "Yes, it is. Uncle Linden. Good night."

"Good night," he said. turning.

Heyden looked as if he was already asleep. I went into the bedroom and changed into the nightgown I had bought, and then I got into my bed. too. I had the window opened as wide as it could be to air out the coach, but that stale odor lingered. Tomorrow,I'll do a better cleaning and disinfecting- of the place, I thought.

For a long time I just lay there with my eyes open, not really thinking of anything in particular, just staring up at the stained yellow ceiling.

Was Mommy going to sleep?

Was she ranting and raving or was she crying in Miguel's arms?

Had I done a very terrible thing, something for which I would go straight to hell?

My two men were sleeping with far more contentment than I could find. For me it was doomed to be a night of tossing and turning in a bed of regret and fear. When I finally did fall asleep. I dreamed about little Claude. and I woke up and felt tears on my cheeks. How wonderful it would have been to have had a little brother after all. Every note of jealousy I had sounded in myself was another pin of guilt sticking in my heart. I felt so miserable and so confused. I wished I could disappear.

Sleep did not return easily. It came on the back of total exhaustion, and what woke me was not the sunlight pouring through the small window, but the sounds of Heyden and Uncle Linden preparing the breakfast. Every part of me groaned a complaint when I rose and went to the door. The two of them were at the small table having coffee and talking. The map was spread before them again. They looked up with surprise.

"Morning, sleepyhead." Heyden called. "So I overslept."

"Hey, there are no schedules to follow here, no bells ringing and sending us from one room to another, except the bells in our own heads. The shower works," Heyden added. '"Sorts.'"

"I slept well." Uncle Linden said. "I think it was the best night's sleep I've had in years."

He and Heyden returned their attention to the map and I worked at waking myself up. Heyden wasn't exaggerating when he used the word sorta for the tiny shower. It dripped out and it was not even warm.

"It's like being in the army," Heyden told me when I complained. "The famous two-minute shower."

''I didn't last one minute!"

"Well, soon we'll be able to afford a decent hotel," he promised. "Time to go on. We have many miles to cover."

Uncle Linden was already in the passenger's seat. anxiously waiting. Minutes later we were heading back toward the highway and north, creating more and more distance between home and ourselves. How appropriate it was for us to have parked near the space shuttle. It's how I felt this morning: jetting out into the great beyond. with all that once tied us to Mother Earth dropping away every passing moment. When we crossed into Georgia, we stopped for lunch and found a place for Uncle Linden to get most of his art supplies. He had possessed art supplies most of his adult life, even when he was in a mental clinic because the work was considered therapeutic, but just because we were on our awn. I think, with no one to supervise us, no rules to follow, no one to please or displease, he was like a little boy who had been given his first erector set or set of electric trains.

Both Heyden and I could see he was chafing at the bit in his anticipation of doing his first picture on the road, so we decided to have a picnic at the first opportunity to pull off the highway and enjoy the river itself. When we did that Uncle Linden was too excited to tat. He set up his easel and began to frame out a picture.

You two sit down there." he said, pointing to a clearing. "Spread your blanket out and just enjoy your lunch."