"Deux heures,"I said.
"I'm glad you're finally putting your French
language studies to use, but please put them to
intelligent use, Grace. Go to school in France or
something."
"Mais oui, Mama. Au revoir," "Goodbye to
you, too." she said, and left.
I continued to lie there, just letting my thoughts
wander. I went walking through a maze of memories,
sometimes seeing and hearing things that occurred
when I was seven or eight and then things that had
happened along the way to Joya del Mar.
It was the distinct sound of a helicopter that
finally drew me out of bed and to my window. It flew low over the ocean. I knew it was owned by one of the very wealthy men or women who lived here. It wasn't military, but it still turned me into a little girl again, if
only for a little while.
Later I showered and dressed and fixed my
hair. I heard Mommy shouting orders at the servants
below, and then I heard her coming to my room. I was
ready. I thought, ready to go wherever she wanted.
She opened the door, looked at the bed, and turned to
see me standing by the bathroom door. For a moment
I truly wondered if she saw me at all. She didn't move.
She held her gaze, but her face was stiff, her lips
looking like a slash of red. Finally her mouth opened
and remained shaped in an 0 for a moment or two. "What in hell..." she began, moving a step
closer to me. "What are you supposed to be doing?" "Getting ready to go with you." I sang. "Getting ready to go with me? To what, the
circus? is this supposed to be some sick joke of yours.
Grace, because it's not in the least funny."
"I'm sorry." I said. I didn't know why I had to
say that. but I thought it belonged in the conversation. "You're sorry?" She took a deep breath, looked