Baby Celeste wore a contented, firm expression with
out the slightest hint of any fear of reprimand.
"It was lit. Look at his foot!" Betsy cried, seeing the burn on the heel of his sole. She turned to Baby Celeste. "Did you do that to Panther?"
She didn't answer. Instead, she looked up at me. "We have to go to the garden."
"The garden!" Betsy screamed. She threw the candle down and seized Baby Celeste's shoulders, shaking her. "Did you light a candle and put it in the bassinet? Well, did you. you little--"
"Stop it!" I shouted. pulling Baby Celeste from her grasp. "We've got to put something on that burn quickly."
Panther had been screaming so loudly, his voice was strained.
"Why would she do that? She's crazy, too. You're all crazy!"
I went quickly to Mama's herbal closet and found an extract of witch hazel that I knew she used for burns. I began first by applying an ice cube to relieve the pain, and then dried the spot and applied the remedy. We rocked the bassinet and eventually Panther closed his eyes and fell asleep from the shock and excitement.
Betsy stood off to the side and watched, not making any effort to help soothe her own child and comfort him.
This does it," she said when I finished. "You get me my clothes and we get your mother to give me my money. I'm out of here. I can't wait to get away from you lunatics."
"I can't get you your clothes," I said in a quiet, defeated voice. "Why not?"
"My mother said she burned and buried them."
"That's what I thought that monster said before," Betsy replied, looking at Baby Celeste. "You'd better keep her away from Panther. Otherwise, whatever happens will be your fault."
Betsy went back upstairs.
I knelt down and took Baby Celeste's hand in mine.
"Why did you do that. Celeste? Why did you burn little Panther?" She shook her head.
"Why? Tell me," I demanded.
"Clean him."
"Clean him?"
She had seen Mama use fire too often to drive away evil. I thought. This happened because of the things Mama had told her?
"That was bad. Celeste. You were bad,"
"No." She shook her head and pulled her hand out from mine.
"You were. You must not do anything like that again," I said sternly.
"You're bad. too. We have to work in the garden." She turned and ran out of the kitchen.
Betsy was mean and selfish, but maybe she wasn't so wrong about all of this. I thought sadly. Baby Celeste wasn't growing up right. I lifted the bassinet and carried it and Panther to the living room where Baby Celeste had curled up on the sofa. She had her thumb in her mouth and her back to me. I set Panther down gently, then went to the sofa and stroked
Baby Celeste's hair.
"We were going back to the garden, but you shouldn't have hurt little Panther. Celeste. That's not the way to clean him."
She shook her head, kept her thumb in her mouth, and closed her eyes.
"Do you understand me? He's just a baby. What did he do to make you want to do that to him? Tell me."