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Show in my father's house/ 209 My mother didn't mention the relatives in Wells again, but I could tell that she worried. Since Aunt Helga's move all vestiges of my mother's illness had been banished, and she turned wholeheartedly to her piano and her coterie of students. Occasionally she was asked to play a solo at church or to accompany a noted singer in a casino. When she returned, the smell of smoke or banquet clinging to her coat, her figure straight, her eyes wide, and her skin pink, I was reminded of a rose in fullest bloom. I knew she did not want the independence and excitement of her new life ruined. One summer morning soon after I turned nine I waved goodbye to my brothers, watching them settle among the .22 rifles and fishing poles inside Saul's blue Ford. I longed to go with them, but I had a babysitting job in the clapboard shack across the street. Besides, they had not invited me. The day was slow and hot, flies buzzing at the screen and the birds silent. I felt vaguely uneasy all morning and wondered if I was getting the flu. I played games with the toddler, and fed the baby a bottle, sitting on the sofa and singing. At noon I fixed lunch, changed the baby's diaper, and put them in bed. Suddenly I felt a surge of panic and went to the screen door. The morning's rain had stopped. My house ;was silent, the door closed. Everything seemed normal. I stretched out on the sofa and went to sleep. At about two o'clock, I awoke, my heart drubbing in my ears. I had dreamed of the wolves again. I stared at the ceiling until my blood calmed, thinking of my brothers. My eyes began to sting |
