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In a moment I heard Mama shout and then start up the stairs. I retreated quickly and headed for the baby's room.

"What is it?" Mama asked.

"I don't know. She just screamed," I said, continuing into the room.

Baby Celeste was sitting up, her face contorted in fear. She had her arms up toward us.

Mama leaped ahead of me and embraced her, kissing her cheeks and stroking her hair as she reassured her. Celeste became calmer quickly. Then Mama looked at me with such accusation in her eyes. I stepped back and shuddered.

"What have you done?"

"Nothing, Mama, Honest."

Her eves grew small. suspicious. "Something is wrong here. Something evil has frightened her. She's warning us."

I shook my head. Not me, I thought. Nothing to do with me. "I don't know why," I said.

"Take her down and keep her calm," Mama said after a thoughtful moment. "I have things to do."

I took Baby Celeste in my arms quickly and started out. "Noble," Mama called.

"Yes?"

"Be very careful. Very careful."

Careful of what? I wondered. but I simply nodded, glanced at her and Dave's doorway, and then with Baby Celeste in my arms, her arms around my neck, descended the stairs.

Behind me, I heard Mama and Dave's bedroom door close.

When I reached the bottom of the stainvay. I looked at Baby Celeste. She wore an expression as angry as Mama's had been, and for reasons I didn't understand. I guiltily shifted my eves away from my own baby's, my heart shrinking under the heat of my own pounding blood.

15

What Was Meant to Be

.

I have seen flowers and plants wither and dry

up when there wasn't enough rain, sunlight. Or nutrition in the soil. For a brief moment, they look healthy, robust. Their future is optimistic, then reality sets in and they begin to degenerate. Their petals curl and their stems begin to bend.

Dave was like that.

When he first came to our home, he was so bright and hopeful, firm and full of energy. He was devoted to Mama and even to me, and he believed that his devotion strengthened him, strengthened us all. He bounded up the stairway, swooped down lovingly over Baby Celeste to scoop her into his arms and cover her with laughter and kisses. His optimism was contagious. Days seemed brighter: shadows seemed thinner. Our old home had a palpable new energy. Perhaps Mama had done a good thing after all, I had thought.

And then I saw that the roots of this new hope, like the roots of a poorly planted flower, were reaching into places with nothing to help it, nothing to nourish it, nothing to keep it alive, especially after Betsy had returned. Now that she was gone, but had left in her wake so much sorrow and regret, Dave grew worse.

I felt so helpless standing by and watching him weaken, watching the light in his eyes continue to dim. Every morning, as soon as I woke. I would think about what I could do. At night I listened for my voices and I searched the shadows for Daddy, trusting he would have an answer. It had been so long since I had seen or heard anything from the spiritual world. It was like a curtain had been drawn closed. Was it my fault? Had my doubts and concerns driven everyone away as Mama had once implied? Was it because of evil once again in our house?

Dave's absence from work didn't go unnoticed. Mama's regular customers called and stopped by, all asking after him. Some had heard he was sick. They had been to the drugstore or whatever and knew.

"He's recuperating from a very bad flu." Mama told them. "I'm trying to build him up."

That a pharmacist had submitted himself to Mama's herbal remedies reinforced the confidence and faith Mama's customers had in her products.

"I'll bet the drugstore always worries he would tout their customers off them and their prescriptions and direct them to you Mrs. Paris told Mama.

Mama just smiled as if it were something Dave had bee