"I just want to sleep." she said. "Close the door when you leave." she added and shut her eyes.
Maybe she was shutting them so she didn't have to look upon me. I thought, and did what she wanted,
.
Eventually Mommy emerged from her bedroom and from her state of mourning, but the gloom and the pall that had come into our home remained. She avoided lights and music. She ate only what she needed to survive and never with any gusto or appetite. Her work at the office was restricted to mostly office duties, reports, and some consultations for the time being.
Although I never heard her mention Miguel's having to fetch me that dreadful night, she avoided asking me anything about it as well. Nevertheless. I longed to tell her what had happened at Daddy's home and what the twins had said and done, but it was as if that day, those hours were gone from her memory. and I was far too frightened and nervous about bringing any of it up myself.
Finally, one night at dinner, nearly ten days later, she brought up Uncle Linden.
"I suppose he should know about little Claude." she said.
"Do you want me to go over there?" Miguel asked her.
"Half the time I wander if he remembers who you are. Miguel. No. I'll have to do it. I suppose."
"I can do it. Mommy," I offered.
She looked at me with a very strange, very foreign expression. It gave me the eerie feeling she didn't remember who I was. It was as if some stranger had popped into the chair and dared to make such an offer to do so personal a thing.
"No," she said. "He won't understand it if it comes from you." I didn't dare challenge her.
"I'll go with you at least. Willow," Miguel said.
"Fine. Let's do it this weekend." she said and continued to nibble at her food.
Later, without fully understanding why, I burst into tears in my room. I kept my sobs subdued so no one would hear me, and then I did my homework and went to sleep.
At school Heyden had been avoiding me. I tried to talk to him a few times, but he politely excused himself. My girlfriends, even the most jealous ones, put aside their jibes and sarcasm and were warmer to me out of sympathy. I accepted their consolation even though I had doubts about the sincerity. I needed someone to consider my feelings, offer me warm hugs and embraces and soft words.
The dreariness of Joya del Mar and the emptiness that had come into my own life reached a peak after Mommy and Miguel returned from visiting Uncle Linden late in the afternoon and telling him the tragic news. I waited anxiously at home, and when they came into the house. I immediately went to them and asked how he had taken it.
Miguel shook his head. meaning I should not pursue it. but Mommy did say, "He blamed it on me not listening to his advice. Can you believe that?"
My quizzical look brought a strange, eerie laugh out of her,
"He doesn't know what year this is, where he is, or what's happened. Maybe he's better off in limbo," she muttered.
"No." I made the mistake of saying too loud. She turned to me. 'He's always been sensible with me. mostly," I said. "It was just with this. little Claude...."
"Listen to her," Mommy said. "She doesn't need to go to college. She can hang her shingle out tomorrow. Your precious uncle is a disturbed man. Hannah. He will never, never. never leave that place. Get it in your head!" she screamed. "Why I went over there and subjected myself to his madness at a time like this, I'll never know.
"Yes," she quickly added, glaring at me. "I do know. It's your persistent concern for him and your making me feel guilty about him. Now see? What good has that done? He's no better off. He's worse, in fact. I forbid you to go there anymore. I absolutely forbid it!" she cried.
"Easy," Miguel told her.
She shook her head and marched upstairs.
"She's very upset. I'll see to her." Miguel said. "Let us know when dinner is ready. Maybe I can get her to eat something substantial tonight."
Let them know when dinner is ready, I thought, I'm just like another servant here now, But I didn't cry. My pool of tears was dry. I replaced sorrow with anger instead. How unfair it was to blame me for Uncle Linden. Would I be blamed for everything that happened to this family now?
My rage filled me with courage. Without anyone's permission. I charged out of the house and got into Mommy's car. In moments I was driving away and heading for Heyden's house, Whether he wanted to or not, he was going to listen to me. We wou
ld not be held accountable and punished for what happened. What we had together was good, and I was determined it would agian.
Fortunately, he was home when I arrived. When I stepped up to the front door. I could hear him practicing an his guitar. I knocked and waited, but he was singing as well, and he didn't hear me. The door was unlocked, so I entered.