Twisted Roots (DeBeers 3)

mother who could send a gardener to pick up her

ailing daughter? Was this to be my punishment for

somehow contributing to little Claude's death? I

couldn't wait to get home to fill that pillowcase, and

that was just what I rushed to do as soon as Ricardo drove up to the front door. I practically leaped out of

the car.

"I thought you were sick to your stomach." he

called after me.

I charged up the stairs, into the house, and up

the stairway to my room. For a moment I just stood in

the middle and turned in circles. What would I take?

What couldn't I stand to leave behind? Did it matter

that much? Wasn't I ever coming back?

I started to choose toiletries and realized how

foolish that was. Take only things you can't buy on

the road, Hannah. I told myself and began to sift

through my clothing. A pillowcase never looked as

small to me as when I was trying to put in another

skirt and another blouse. And shoes! I loved this pair

and that. Didn't I need more than one pair of

sneakers? What if we go into a much colder climate

for a while? I should have a pair of boots. shouldn't I? Pictures? No. none. I would just cry over them.

I thought. What about dolls? There was that rag doll

that Mommy gave me years ago, telling me my

grandmother had made it for her and had modeled the

doll's face after Mommy's from pictures she had. Was

it wrong to take that doll out of this house? What if I

somehow lost it?

No. I decided. I had to say goodbye to it for a

while, perhaps a long, long while. No dolls, no