and then she was there, behind him. She had her shine and her smell. He reached up and touched his own hair, then reached for her hand. The room shone and sparked.
“Ta, everybody,” Cassandra said. There was the long work of coats and goodbyes. When the front door opened, snow blew in. Jamal watched it vanish into the boards. He thought of all he hadn't eaten. He held some of his presents: an orange truck like Ben's and a Star Trek spaceship. Uncle Will held the big stuffed bear that Jamal had wanted and that now embarrassed him, though he still wanted it and, in some uncertain way, despised it. The bear had blank black eyes, a pale orange tongue.
“Tell Zoe we hope she's feeling better,” Aunt Susan said.
“Of course I will,” Grandma said. She kissed Aunt Susan. Aunt Susan was like his grandmother but darker, more worried and smooth. The bird glittered on her breast. Jamal walked to the car between Cassandra and Uncle Will, his arms full of gifts. There were intricate waves of love and hatred, a low complicated buzz. When he looked back he saw Ben and Grandpa in the doorway, outlined in yellow, watching him go. Uncle Will drove, and Grandma sat in front. Jamal sat in back, with Cassandra.
“Well, that's over,” Uncle Will said.
“I thought it was fine,” Grandma said.
“Sure,” Uncle Will answered. “It was fine. It was a lovely little party.”
Jamal watched the flakes tap against the car windows. He watched trees go by, and other cars, and houses. He saw himself taking everything, reaching out the window and gathering up every house and tree as they drove through the blowing white. He saw himself taking them home and showing them to his mother.
“Tell it again,” he whispered to Cassandra.
“What?”
“You know.”
“The same one?” she said.
“Yes.”
“Honey, you are obsessed.”
“Tell it.”
“Okay. You were brand new, you were the tiniest little thing—”
“How tiny?”
“Hmm. You were just slightly smaller than one of those chickens in the window at Lee Chow's.”
“No.”
“We're not going to vary from this one inch, are we? Okay, you were as tiny as Mrs, García's puppy. The Mysteriously Unnamed.”
“Yes.”
“And we put you in the car and drove you all the way up to the Green River in Massachusetts.”
“It took a long time,” Jamal said.
“Yes, it did. Over two hours. There were rivers that were more conveniently located, but your mother had been to the Green River once and she'd seen that there was something magic about it, so when you were born nothing would do but that we baptize you up there.”
“Yes.”
“We drove more than two hours,” Cassandra said. “It was a pretty day in July, there were tiger lilies and black-eyed Susans growing alongside the road. I was wearing, if I do say so myself, a very fetching little christening outfit, white leather pants and a white tuxedo jacket and a pair of hiking boots because, honey, it was a hike to that magic river, your mother didn't choose one that was close to the road, no, she didn't.”
“We were riding in a blue car.”
“Yes, we were. A borrowed Toyota, nothing grand, but reliable. It was you and your mother and Will and me.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And when we got there we parked the car and carried you all the way to the river.”
“How long?” Jamal said.
“Oh, let's see, what's the correct response here? Longer than walking from Canal Street all the way to Central Park.”
“That's right.”
“And we finally got there, and your Aunt Cassandra's hairdo was a little bit disarranged but she was a trouper, a very distant relation of Daniel Boone. And really, the river was beautiful. It was a big wide river with trees on both sides of it, and lord knows there was hardly anybody else there, because not many people would choose to walk that far just to see something that flows right out of their taps at home—”
“There were fish.”
“Mm-hm. Trout. You could see them. We all took our shoes off and waded in, that water was ice-cold, and Aunt Cassandra had a brief cranky moment from which she recovered admirably. The water was very clear and the bottom was covered with little round stones and it was really quite pretty, even if the temperature would've made an Eskimo nervous.”
“Momma was carrying me.”
“Yes, she was,” Cassandra said. “We carried you out into the water and said a few words, and Will and I promised to look after you, and then in spite of your Aunt Cassandra's objections Will poured a