I wouldn’t do that.
What?
I’m Catholic.
I’m talking about something else, baby love. You blow out your doors and they put you in a place like Mandeville.
I’ve still got it between the ditches. I’m sober.
But you keep calling on me. I’m tired, sweetheart. I have to come a long way so we can talk.
I’m sorry.
She put a finger to her lips.
I’ll come again. For a while. But you have to keep your promise.
Annie.
When I woke I was sleepwalking, and my palms were pressed against the cold green plaster of the bedroom wall.
CHAPTER
6
It was still raining and cold in the morning. The logs in the fireplace had crumbled into dead ash, and the sky outside was gray. The trees in the yard looked wet and black in the weak light. I turned on the furnace, put fresh logs in the fireplace, lit the kindling and balls of wadded newspaper, and tried to fix French toast for me and Alafair while she dressed for school. I thought I could hear the drone of mosquitoes in my brain. I had on a long-sleeved flannel shirt, and I kept wiping the perspiration out of my eyes on my forearm.
“Why you shaking, Dave?” Alafair said.
“I have malaria. It comes back sometimes. It’s not bad, though.”
“What?”
“I got it in the army. In the Philippines. It comes from mosquito bites. It goes away soon.”
“You ain’t suppose to be up when you sick. I can fix my own breakfast. I can cook yours, too.”
“Don’t say ‘ain’t.’”
She took the spatula and the handle of the frying pan out of my hands and began turning the toast. She wore fresh denims with an elastic waistband, and a purple sweater over her white shirt. Her black hair was shiny under the kitchen light.
I felt weak all over. I sat down at the kitchen table and wiped my face with a dry dish towel. I had to swallow before I could speak.
“Can you put on your raincoat and walk yourself to school this morning?” I said.
“Sure.”
“Then if I don’t pick you up this afternoon, you go to the babysitter’s. Okay?”
“Okay.”
I watched her pack her lunch box and put on her yellow raincoat and hood.
“Wait a minute. I’ll drive you,” I said.
“I can take myself. You sick, you.”
“Alafair, try not to talk like Batist. He’s a good man, but he never went to school.”