to the right; she looked out into the glare of the Gulf; she looked into the full blaze of the morning. Lord God, it had all been true and she had failed to stop it, and now it had reached out through the great tangled mass of whispered secrets and threats and it had killed her.
But what will Ryan do without me? What will happen to Pierce if I’m not there? Clancy needs me. They can’t have the wedding if this happens to me! It will ruin everything for them! Where in the name of God is Rowan? And which church would they use? They shouldn’t go back to St. Alphonsus. Rowan!
How busy she was suddenly, making lists and charts, and drifting, and meaning to call Shelby and Lilia, and when the water came again, she didn’t mind the salt so much or the numbing chill of it. Alicia didn’t know where the Victrola was! Nobody did but Gifford. And the napkins for the wedding. There were hundreds of linen napkins in the attic at First Street, and they could be used for the wedding, if only Rowan would come home and say that—Good heavens, the only one she didn’t have to worry about was Mona. Mona would be fine. Mona didn’t really need her. Mona…!
Ah, the water felt good. No, she didn’t mind it, not a bit, as they say. Where was the emerald? Did you take it with you, Rowan? He’d given her the medal. She had it around her neck, but getting her hand up there to clasp the chain was now out of the question. What was required now was an entire inventory, including the Victrola and the pearls and the emerald and those records of Oncle Julien’s, all those old Victrola songs, and the dress in the attic in the box which had belonged to Ancient Evelyn. She turned her face this time into the water, thinking that it was probably washing the blood away from her, and off her hand.
No, didn’t mind the cold water. Never had. She just minded the pain, the awful sharpening and grinding pain. You think life is worth it? I don’t know. What do you think? This pain, it’s not particularly unusual, you know, to feel pain like this, to feel this suffering, it’s nothing special, you know, it’s just. I don’t know if it’s worth it. I really really don’t.
Five
MOTHER WAS MISERABLE now. She could not free herself from the tape that bound her arms. She struggled. And Emaleth tossed in misery, listening to Mother cry. Mother was sickened by the soiled bed in which she lay; she turned her head to the side and sickness came out of her mouth. The world of Emaleth trembled.
Emaleth ached for Mother. If only Mother knew that she was there, but Mother did not. Mother had screamed and screamed. But no one had come. Mother had gone into a rage and torn at the tape, but it had not come loose. Mother slept for long periods and dreamed strange dreams, and then woke and cried again.
When Mother looked out the distant windows, Emaleth saw the city of towers and lights. She heard what Mother heard—the airplanes above, and the cars far below—and she saw the clouds, and when Mother knew the names of these things, so did Emaleth. Mother cursed this place, she cursed herself, she said prayers to humans who were dead. Father had told Emaleth who these humans were and that they could never help Mother.
The dead lie beyond, Father said. He had been with the dead, and he did not want to be with them again, until his time came. It would come but by that time he and Emaleth would have multiplied and subdued the Earth. The Earth would be for their children.
“We have come again at the perfect moment. Never has the world been so prepared. In the distant past survival was too difficult for us. But not so now; we are the meek; we shall inherit the Earth.”
Emaleth prayed Father would come back. Father would free Mother from the bed; and Mother would not cry anymore. Father loved Mother. He had said, “Remember I love her. We need her. She has the milk, and without the milk you cannot grow to full height.”
Emaleth waited to rise out of this dark place and stretch her limbs and grow and walk and smile and be in Father’s arms. Poor Mother. Mother was in pain. More and more