Into the Woods (38 page)

I stood up, and she took my arm and directed me toward the stairway. Lourdes came out and stood beside Linden. He watched us but said nothing,
"I should say goodbye to him," I said "I should kiss him goodbye, shouldn't I. Mommy?"
"No," she said sharply. "You'll only make him cry, Grace. It's better if you just leave. You'll be back soon," she promised. "It's easier for everyone. Go on, walk." she ordered. and I went down the stairs.
The car was there, a black Town Car. The driver stood at the rear door that was opened and waiting for us,
"This is the car that will take us to the airport." Mommy said when I stopped walking.
"Oh." I tilted my head with confusion, "Why are we going to the airport?
I
forgot."
She made a face of impatience.
"We're going to South Carolina." she said slowly, pronouncing each syllable with deliberateness. "So we have to fly there. That's where the clinic is and where Dr. De Beers waits for you. You'll be fine after a while, and then you can come home." she said, but she didn't sound very sure of it. It sounded too much like a promise, and promises were more like wishes for me now.
We started toward the car again.
Linden, I kept thinking. I'm going so far and I'm leaving without saying goodbye. It doesn't seem right, He'll
wonder about me, and he'll be looking for me, especially in the evening. I
^-
won't be there to read him a story, and my bed
will be empty. It doesn't seem right.
At the car I paused and turned back toward the rear of the beach house. Lourdes had him in her arms and had brought him around. She was pointing toward us and telling him to wave goodbye.
"Get in. Grace." Mommy said, her voice dripping with impatience. "We've got to go. We can't miss our flight."
Linden was looking at me so hard. My heart began to feel like a rock in my chest.
"Grace."
"Wait," I said firmly, pushing her hand off my arm.
I raised my hand slowly, bringing my two fingers to the tap of my forehead.
Little Linden watched, and then he brought his hand to his, his two little fingers returning the salute.
He had seen him. I thought. He had seen Daddy.
I would be back after all.
.
Dear Grace.
I have just finished reading your story and I am sitting here staring out my window and thinking about my own life and how I. like you, was transported from one world into a completely different one.
For some reason adults always feel young people can adjust to anything.
We are supposed to be more resilient. We can take it, take the battle to find new friends, to adjust to different settings, different rules, different styles. whatever.
For me, it was even more dramatic than that. Grace.
I lived in a place known as Cajun country in Louisiana and our world was and is so different from the rest of the world around us
I
sometimes felt as if I was really on a different planet.
We had our own music and our own way of cooking, talking, even thinking. I suppose.
My grandmother was what we called a Traiteur, a faith healer, but also very wise with natural remedies.
She was
a
very wise woman who could read shadows and clouds.
I thought she could hear the voices in the wind.
We lived in the swamps and fished and trapped.
Grandma and
I
sold whatever we could, but soon I was selling my art and it was through my art. that I began to see beyond my home, my life, and my own dreams. There were many secrets in my life-- dark, hidden things that I didn't learn for a very long time, just like you One involved my grandparents, for they weren't living together and
I
never really understood why.
My grandfather was quite a swamp character and lived in what is known as a tooth-peg-legged shack.
He could read the water, know where the snakes were, when an alligator would come up, where the fish gathered, but he was mainly a trapper and
I
guess a drunk.
What made me read your story with wonder was the way I. like you, suddenly found myself in a world completely alien to me.
I
was there to find my father. And, most importantly, someone even more significant in my life.
I
always knew who my mother was and where she was buried.
Anyone who starts my story will find it rich in details about life in the swamps. and I'm sure he or she will feel as if he or she is traveling to another country.
Every once in a while
I
had to tell myself I was still in America.
When I left the swamps
I
went to New Orleans. and
I
discovered that
it
was a city filled with rich history.
Whenever anyone thinks of New Orleans they think of jazz, of course, and also of voodoo.
Yes. I was involved in that, too, and it turned out to be something that had a dramatic effect on my life and where I eventually ended up.
Mine wasn't just a trip from ordinary life to the world of the very wealthy.
It was a journey through mysterious back roads of family history.
Like you. I had to learn so many new things about daily life. fashion, and social behavior, and
like you.
I
had people around me who did not want me to be there.
Unlike you. I had someone to return to in my original world. I had a life
I
couldn't let go of and
I
had to make a full circle.
Even so.
I
made new discoveries about people and places thought I had always understood,
Sometimes, Grace, as you know, the things and the people we hold most dear and closest to us wear faces that are not true.
There are layers and layers beneath and finding them, confronting them, can be very painful.
It
was for me,
But
I
should let you read my story for yourself. It begins in the Cajun swamp world as
I
said.
Don't let me leave you thinking this is a world of poverty and superstition.
There is much beauty in the swamp, vegetation, animals, waterfalls that were all my backyard, my place to go to find fantasy and wonder. My story and my daughter's story are both told in
Ruby, Pearl in the Mist, All That Glitters, Hidden Jewel,
and
Tarnished Gold.
When you get some time and you're sitting out there on your loggia overlooking the ocean, thinking about the twists and turns your life took, open the cover of my first book and begin my story.
Someday I will expect a letter from you.
I
will be most interested in what you have to say and most of all, what we have taught each other.
Until then.
Ruby