Twisted Roots (DeBeers 3)

I closed my eyes.

Mommy had told me to go with my instincts, and there were no sounds of warning, no cries of regret coming from that place in my heart. There is no more intimate act, no closer or stronger way to make you part of someone else, I thought, and that was what I wanted. Whatever mystical and magical energy had brought us together now wrapped itself around us, tying us to each other. Few things you do, few things that happen to you, or things you see remain with you as does the first time you make love. That memory is there until you take your final breath and can be resurrected with little effort. I had seen that in Mommy's face. in Mommy's quiet moments fall of special remembrances.

This day will live forever in me, I told myself. It will Never die.

I felt him there, gently prodding, coming to me in small sweet endearments of love, holding me as he would a delicate piece of china, waiting for my anxiety to pass, my pain to dissolve into passion. I held on to him like someone afraid of drowning or disappearing might, and together we redefined who we were forever and ever.

Once you have done it, does your face really change? Do you walk and talk differently, have a look in your eyes that tells people you have crossed into a more sophisticated, mature, and knowing place? I wondered. Would Mommy take one glance at me and immediately know?

Afterward, the next day in fact, small

intimacies grew between Heyden and me. In school Heyden and I seemed always to find each other's hand when we were walking together. We brushed against each other whenever we talked and brought our faces closer. I grew accustomed to his breath caressing my neck, his lips grazing my ear. My girlfriends suspected we were intimate immediately anyway. so I couldn't judge how I appeared to others on the basis of how I appeared to them. but I imagine most thought we were truly lovers. Their smiles and giggles bounced around me like silly bubbles I could swipe away with a reprimanding glance.

Now when Mr. Mullens caught me

daydreaming in his class, he smiled knowingly, for he, like most of our teachers, took some interest in the way the students socialized and co-mingled at our school. They saw us walking hand in hand in the halls. I'm sure they gossiped. too. I could see it in all their faces and felt like I had blushed so much in two days, my face must appear sunburned.

Mommy said nothing different to me., and surprisingly asked me little about Heyden except for an occasional "How's your friend doing?"

"Fine" was enough of an answer to get her off the topic. I hadn't told her about our rehearsals. I was afraid of her forbidding me to continue, and also I hoped to surprise her and Miguel one day by having Heyden over and the two of us singing for them.

Mommy and Miguel were spending mare and more time at the hospital anyway, and often weren't home before I returned from Heyden's. The doctors had given an approximate date on which they hoped to release little Claude. Mommy was absorbed by all of it and had now turned her attention to perfecting the nursery, even though she made it clear little Claude would sleep at her bedside for the first few months at least. I told Miguel I pitied the students in his early-morning classes. He laughed but nodded in agreement.

"I might soon be yawning as much as they do." he joked.

At the start of the following week. I finally met Heyden's mother. Before this she was never home when I was there. She looked much younger than I had anticipated. Only about five feet two and maybe one hundred and five pounds or so, she immediately appeared overwhelmed by the problems in their lives.

A stiff wind could lift her and carry her away, I thought.

Heyden had obviously inherited her beautiful ebony eyes, which now were downcast and troubled.

She appeared embarrassed when Heyden introduced us. I couldn't imagine how so shy a woman could perform any work outside of her home. Being a chambermaid obviously gave her a minimum of contact with people. however. She did invite me to stay for dinner one night, but I explained how important it was for me to be home for my mother.

Rehearsals, schoolwork, attending to Mommy, all took up so much of my free time that I let nearly two full weeks go by without visiting my uncle Linden. I felt so bad about it that I told Heyden I had to skip our rehearsal. When he heard my reason, he was not only understanding, he wondered if he could go along.

'Really, you would do that?"

"Even from the little you've told me about him, especially about his painting, he sounds interesting. Unless you think I might disturb him, of course."

"No." I said quickly. "He would want to meet you I'm sure."

Of course. I really wasn't sure, but if Uncle Linden was ever to be released into the outside world, as I liked to call it, he had to be able to meet new people and get along. I thought it was nice of Heyden to care.

We drove down right after school that day. I was disappointed he wasn't sitting outside when we pulled up. During the past two weeks. I had asked Mommy about him, and she had said she had spoken to him on the phone and he was doing fine, so I had no reason to assume otherwise,

"Maybe he's working." I told Heyden after I parked. My voice was heavy with concern.

Mrs. Robinson greeted us at the door, "Oh. Hannah. I'm glad you've come. He has been asking for your mother and you quite a bit this past week. In fact, he's been a bit depressed. And he hasn't done any work." "Did you tell my mother?" "Yes."

"Didn't she speak to him on the phone?"

"He doesn't do well on the phone. Hannah. In fact, he always complains about it." She smiled. "He says he's an artist. He has to look at the people he speaks to." She shrugged. "It makes sense to me," she said, smiling at Heyden.

"Mt, too," he replied, and I introduced them. "Where's my uncle now?"

"Just sitting in his room. I tried to get him to sit outside today, but he wouldn't budge from his rocking chair. Maybe you will be able to get him out for some fresh air. Take him for a walk."

"Yes." I said.