Celeste (Gemini 1)

It was not as if we were without all possibilities of being happy again. We didn't have financial problems for her to worry over. Daddy had a biz life insurance policy. I overheard Mommy and her attorney. Mr. Lyman, a short, plump man with cheeks that looked like they were patched with the skin of cherries, talking about it. I stood back in the doorway of the den. I never liked being too close to him. He always smelled like sour apples and his hands were small, with thick cucumber fingers that looked like they didn't have any knuckles. I hated it when he brushed my hair with one of those hands. and Noble would actually bob and weave to avoid any contact.

Mommy said death was a feast for lawyers and accountants. There was so much that had to be done. They descended on our house like mayflies. buzzing around Mommy's ears.

Fortunately, all of it left us well off. Daddy's partner bought up his share of the business, the truck, and the jeep, and Mommy had that money. too. There was money put away in trust for Noble and me. We had no mortgage on the house, and anything that was bought on credit was paid up because of all sorts of death benefits Mommy didn't even know we had.

"You're in fine shape. Sarah," Mr. Lyman assured Mommy. I hated him saying that.

How could we be in fine shape with Daddy dead and gone? Mommy saw me listening and glaring angrily at Mr. Lyman from the doorway. She told me to go see what Noble was up to, and waved me away.

That was he up to? Nothing different. He was out there fighting imaginary battles with imaginary demons. Small trees were enemy soldiers, or tall weeds were monsters. He made a sword out of a slab of wood from a crate in the garage and went charging at the vegetation, slicing everything in sight while he howled his battle cries. If I didn't join him and imitate him, he would cry and complain to Mommy.

One thing she insisted was we remain within the boundaries of our lawn and meadow. We were not yet old enough to wander into the woods, she told us. but Noble was beginning to challenge that prohibition. I would have to remind him continually that he was going out too far, like someone swimming in the ocean and going beyond the reach of the lifeguard.

"Daddy used to take us to the stream and the pond to swim." he complained.

Mommy promised to do it and did one afternoon, but mostly as a lesson in botany. Noble was bored with all that. He swiped at tree branches or shot imaginary arrows at dragons emerging from behind thick oaks.

"Stay close," she told him when he went too far off. Her reprimands wrapped around him like a leash and a collar, snapping him back. How he hated it,

"We don't need Mommy every time we go into the woods." he told me. "It's not dangerous."

He whined and groaned about it so much. Mommy relented and permitted us to go in a short way without her. but Noble was never to go in without me, and if he did. I would be blamed. The burden of my responsibility grew a little heavier every day, it seemed.

I remember I was feeling more and more lonely, too. Noble's games were no longer any challenge or any fun for me and seemed more and more strained and unimaginative. He hated that I didn't contribute to his make-believe, and every time I crossed into our imaginary moat, he would scream and jump, shouting that I had nearly been eaten by an alligator. Of course. I didn't act frightened. It ma

de him so angry and upset that he would cry and complain to Mommy.

"She won't listen! She won't obey the rules!" "It's silly." I said. "Those are silly rules,"

"Oh, just walk over the bridge when you come into the house. Celeste," she told me. "I don't like him being so upset. Not now." she added.

"What bridge? There's no real bridge," I said, shaking my head.

"Pretend there is a bridge just as you always did," she said, pronouncing each word distinctly, her eyes wide. "It was easy to do then. It will be easy to do now. Just do it!"

I felt tears burning in mine and looked away so she wouldn't see. If I cried, she would only get answer and make me feel as if I was letting her down, or more important. Daddy, because Daddy was watching. Daddy saw us. She knew.

Yes. Mommy spoke to Daddy often after the first month of his passing. I'll never forget the first time she told us.

All during that first month after Daddy's death, we had visitors from the town and nearby, people we had never seen or Mommy had seen so infrequently, she had forgotten them. Mr. Kotes was the most frequent visitor. She told us that was because Daddy had been a good friend to him after his wife had died. He didn't have any children. His parents were long dead. All he had was an unmarried sister who was a partner in his family business. Daddy used to say he was a man whose heart had zone to sleep. His face seemed to have forgotten how to smile, Whenever Mommy and Mr. Kotes were together, it seemed to me she was helping him deal with Daddy's death more than he was helping her. It was something she was happy to do and something he wanted her to do.

Just like some other visitors, he always brought something when he came to our house. Most visitors brought cakes and pies, flowers, and even toys for Noble and me. I was given dolls. but Mommy wouldn't let us have any of it. Everything was put away in a special place because they were meant to "make us forget our sadness, and we should not permit anything to do that. Your sadness about the death of someone you loved," Mommy insisted. "will be the avenue over which you will travel to see and hear your ancestral spirits. It's too special and precious an emotion to be treated like coming down with the measles or some other childhood ailment."

Noble was very upset about having to give up trucks and trains, toy soldiers and popguns, but when Mommy put on her angry face, he just turned away to sulk. She reinforced it all by telling him it would be painful to Daddy to learn that he was forgetting him so quickly, and because of what? A toy? Was that all he meant to him?

He muted his tears and swallowed them back. To compensate, he returned to his make-believe world outside and made do with sticks and rocks, bushes and trees. No one had given us that to help us forget, and besides. if Mommy had told us once, she had told us a hundred times. Daddy's spirit was here. Daddy was in the tees and bushes. Daddy was in the house. We were with Daddy as long as we remained here. If we did that, we would always remain a part of him.

Of course. I was waiting desperately now to see and hear him so when Mommy called us into the living room and sat us down on the sofa to tell us what had just happened. I was filled with anticipation and joy.

She pulled open the curtains and then opened the window slightly as if she was letting Daddy's spirit into the house.

"Children," she said, turning and clasping her hands over her breasts. "I have been with your father today."

"Where?" Noble cried, practically jumping out of his seat. "Where was he all this time? Building a house? Where's his truck?"

For a long moment Mommy simply stared at Noble. She could see that I knew exactly what she meant, and it bothered her to no end that Noble did not. still didn't understand all she had told us and continued to tell us about the spiritual world.

Slowly, just the way she taught him his math sometimes, with painstakingly perfect pronunciation of every vowel and consonant, she said. "What did I tell you about the spirit and the body. Noble? Go on, tell me what I told you."