Child of the Storm (37 page)

“
I wasn
’
t concerned with that, Gh
é
d
é
Nebo. Just concerned
how long it might be and how long I might have to be on it.
”

“
It
’
s never too long a path to walk, and
never difficult to follow. Always brings the traveler straight to their very
own door.
”

“
So it will lead me to
a place that
’
s my own, just like the ghost has a
place of her own?
A new home for me from here on out?
Is that it?
”

“
The
here-on-out
part is sort of up to the traveler, Miss Celeste. You can content yourself with
it or not once you get there. All up to you.
”

Since
her feet seemed bound to carry her on and on without stopping until she found
that door of her own, she left him where he sat.

By
little measures the weak light grew weaker still, dying altogether at last
before a simple opening, square and true, astride the way ahead. She would have
to enter and hope it was only a gateway, with another further along.
A hope that would need to hold up through maybe a long darkness.

But
under that weight of darkness, her feet would go no farther as if they knew the
path was ended and it was time to rest. She let herself stretch out on the
floor and found it was not too hard for comfort, and maybe right for sleep. A
good long rest that might carry away, at long last, the great and ancient load
she felt.

Stale, unstirred air.
The
press of total
darkness against her eyes like
bandages.
Muffled
sounds from near, but not near enough to reach out to; like voices beyond, or
the movements of things in the earth.

She
rose from where she lay and felt an urgent need to feel the movement of air on
her skin, but where was she? She couldn
’
t remember, except
for talk of This Side and the
Other
. With her arms and
her fingers outstretched, she crept forward through the blackness until, at
last, her fingers found a yielding barrier like a web, but tighter. Not fine
like good material for the clothes she would make for herself, but coarser
stuff, like something a careless or unfeeling person would select for her.
Like poor, coarse cloth.
Like a makeshift
shroud.

This
thought crashed in on her like awakening, and she began to panic, pushing
against the material but making no headway. She needed something to cut through
with, like a knife or scissors, and began to feel about
—
feeling for something she sensed was
supposed to be near. Her hand came across it, more or less where she expected,
and she gathered her wits enough to stab the knife through the fabric and slice
sideways, left to right and then upward until she knew she had made an opening
of a size that would allow her through.
But through to where?
Didn
’
t matter. She would be out.

But
crawling out was a struggle, and she was exhausted again on the other side. It
was a hard place and the air was not much fresher, but there was at least that
small bit of movement to it.
Just a breath of it.
A bit more life.
She leaned against the outside wall of what
had been her prison and wondered what epitaph might be carved there. Her
fingers felt along the surface in search of it, only to stop after a while.
There was nothing there.
Nothing with meaning.
She lay
outside and waited for strength to come, and it seemed a long wait.

The
wall offered no comfort but the free air flowing over her unsheltered right
side was becoming too cool and she began to shiver. There
’
s dead and there
’
s just outside of dead and the latter
wasn
’
t much better than the former, without
any hope or strength to let her enjoy the difference. You could still be cold
and lost, just outside of dead. But something slid up beside her to hold that
cold off. She shifted to lean against it instead of the uncaring wall.

“
Made it through,
”
Celeste said.
“
Maybe all I
’
ve got now. Nothing else left to me.
”

“
Do you remember me
this time?
”
a voice asked.

“
I do,
”
Celeste replied.
“
May have lost everything else, but I
still have that.
”

“
You must have known
you weren
’
t done,
”
said the voice,
“
or figured it out before you settled.
Mind you, I
’
d have found you sooner or later, but
it
’
s best not to have so much ground to
make up. Especially with how far you
’
ve come this time. We
’
ll find whatever you
’
ve lost.
”

Celeste
could already feel herself returning, like a drained pool refilled by small
springs. Old memories seeping back in, presenting themselves like in a
receiving line. What did the voice
mean.
“
What have I lost? I can
’
t recall.
”

“
That
’
s for another day. You feel that warmth
on your eyes? Open them up now. See? It
’
s all yours Celeste.
Everything is still yours to see and touch. She
’
s come from the other
side to collect you.
”

There
was
a glow on her eyelids. A little hope that came shining in on them
from beyond; faint at first but glowing brighter, until she opened her eyes and
saw the dazzling light full on. It blinded her to all else for a moment until
her eyes and her heart grew accustomed to it, and then she could see a face
behind the candle.

“
You found me,
”
she whispered.
“
It wasn
’
t easy getting out.
”

Strength
returned as she saw her surroundings. Saw without recognizing
—
the roof of a porch and the flap of the
window screen she had slashed through to climb out. Her right hand still clutched
a fine old letter opener. Gabrielle pushed her way through the screen, her face
drawn from fear, but also relief. Unable to speak, she crouched for a time
beside Celeste, holding her as if she was a child before carefully leading her
back to the window and carrying her through to the bedroom and settling her
back into bed.

“
Where am I?
”
Celeste asked.
“
I was
…”
She didn
’
t know how to finish.

“
Hattiesburg.
”

“
Hattiesburg?
”
Celeste whispered. She knew the name
but had never been there.

“
We brought you here, Virgil
and I did. Do you remember Virgil? He
’
s a friend who came
to stay with us through the storm and the flood.
”

“
Flood.
”

“
The levees gave way
and the Lower Ninth was flooded. I don
’
t know for sure how
bad it was for the rest of the city. But Virgil had a boat and we brought you
out. We came across the lake under the bridge. Parts of it are down from the
storm.
”

“
We crossed the
bridge?
”

“
We followed it across
the lake. You didn
’
t speak for the longest time, and then,
only to his dog Sam. You stayed close to her the whole time and she stuck with
you. All we could think to do was get across the lake and make for 59. Maybe
get up to Birmingham where your cousin lives.
Or to a
hospital.
I couldn
’
t tell how you were.
You weren
’
t hurt that we could tell, but
…”

“
I saw the bridge. Had
to walk a long way.
”

“
It was a while before
we could catch a ride so you
did
walk. I couldn
’
t see how you managed. We wanted to
carry you, but you said you had to walk it yourself.
”

“
Had to take the other
way around, didn
’
t we?
”

“
We did,
”
Gabrielle said.
“
Ran into a local policeman who wouldn
’
t let us come into or through his
little mess of a town. He made us go around, even seeing how you were. You said
which way we should go. Told it to Samantha, and turned out you were right,
since we ran into a State Trooper who sent a friend of his to drive us here to
Hattiesburg. A Mr.
Neilsen
.
”

“
Mr. Nebo,
”
Celeste whispered.

“
He brought us here to
this house and it turned out they knew you from years ago. Elizabeth and Ellen.
Twin sisters you helped out when they were girls. Do you remember that?
”

“
My twins.
”

“
It
’
s like you were guiding us here
somehow, but I thought you
’
d never been up this
way before.
Never outside of New Orleans.
Is that
right?
”

“
Not since I found the
Twins. Not since
…
Audrey.
”

“
I
’
d hoped you
’
d do better once we got you here and
settled. They even managed to find a doctor who could come see you.
”

“
Just too old.
”

Gabrielle
struggled to speak.
“
There were times I thought I
’
d lost you.
”

“
But you looked and
found me,
”
Celeste said.
“
Suppose I knew someone would.
”

“
At least you
recognize me now,
”
Gabrielle said.
“
You do, don
’
t you.
”

“
I remember you. You
’
re my Gabrielle.
”

“
I
’
m your Gabrielle and I mean to look
after you as you
’
ve looked after me all these years. I
can
’
t say what we
’
ll find when we get back, but that
’
s to wonder about tomorrow. Not
tonight.
”

“
Not tonight,
”
Celeste repeated. She knew what she
would find if she went back. Everything had been stripped from her there. Only
thing left was what she had with her right here and now in this place she
’
d never been to before in her long
life.

“
Will you sleep if I
stay with you?
”
Gabrielle asked. Celeste could hear
how tired she was.
Too tired and afraid.

“
Best if you go back
down to Virgil. I
’
ll stay put and sleep now.
”

“
If you
’
re sure.
”
Gabrielle searched
Celeste
’
s face. Read deep into her eyes.

Celeste
nodded.
“
Took a lot of steps to get up here. I
need a good deep sleep, with dreams to fill me back up again.
”
She let her eyes close, releasing
Gabrielle to go on to her own sleep.

She
woke well before hint of dawn as she always had, while moonlight still played
with shadows across her window. But it wasn
’
t moonlight or habit that
woke her, it was a visitor. Virgil
’
s dog Sam had quietly
padded upstairs and pushed the door open enough to enter Celeste
’
s room, slipping up to the bed and
resting her muzzle near Celeste
’
s face. The dog
’
s soft, moist breath stirred Celeste
out of a dream of salt air. Gently moving air. Beneficial. Not like the scent
of flood.

“
I remember you,
”
Celeste whispered.
“
Virgil calls you Sam.
Short for Samantha.
And I
’
m Celeste. No need to
shorten that. I
’
m short enough already. Guess Gabrielle
must have left the door ajar.
”
She found the dog
’
s ear. Stroked it with one finger.
“
Both without a home for now, but I
’
d put money on you finding one first,
if I was a betting woman.
”

There
was just enough light to see the dog
’
s nose twitching
subtly. Reading.

“
Different smells than
in New Orleans. But you
’
ll be back there soon
enough. Dogs always seem to find their way home.
All four feet
and a nose to the road.
That right?
”

The
dog stretched to get nose to nose. Celeste didn
’
t move away, her head
comfortable where it was on the soft pillow.

“
My oldest friend told
me I should keep looking for the one who was lost. There
’
re a few she might have meant by that,
and maybe she meant them all. But maybe that
’
s to be home for me,
if that makes sense. Just looking.
”

The
dog didn
’
t say one way or the other.

“
One storm brings me
in from wherever I was before, another flings me out of childhood. Betsy shoves
me out of fear and now where is this one sending me? Thought it might have been
to an After Life, but what sort? Maybe to finding what
’
s lost.
Maybe to see
Paris, like
Pappa
said I should.
That sounds
nice but not till I rest up and gather myself.
A tall order,
Sam.
Maybe it
’
s too late for such grand things. Maybe
I should settle for a soft pillow and a new friend.
”

She
patted the mattress lightly.

“
Climb up and sleep
here if you like. I won
’
t tell the Twins, in
case they don
’
t allow it.
”

The
dog took the cue and climbed up easily
;
stepping over
Celeste to stretch out against her back.

“
Settle down and sleep
a bit more now. We
’
re alive, and that
’
s somewhere to start.
”