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Later that afternoon, she did a very strange thing. She wheele

d the old television set into the living room and hooked it up. I watched in

amazement. Suddenly, my watching television didn't matter. She was no longer worried about what harm it could do to my studies or anything.

"Amuse yourself" she said. She made it sound like an order. Then she left me again. For days afterward, she continued to bar me from going upstairs. She brought clothing down to the living room for me. She insisted that I eat my meals there. And periodically, she brought in the pump.

She spent little or no time with me, barely speaking to me when she was around. I was desperate to see the baby, of course, and not seeing her filled me with a painful emptiness. but I realized there was something more.

Ever since the baby's birth. I had not seen Noble, nor any other family spirit. Even the soft sound of whispering was gone. When I turned off the television set, except for the sounds of Mommy moving around above me or the baby's crying when I could hear it muffled by the walls, there was cemetery quiet. Every corner of the house, every shadow, was empty. With Mommy ignoring me except when she wanted to pump my milk or when she brought me something to eat. I was never more alone, and my desperation to see the baby grew stronger and stronger until I could think of nothing else.

Hours at a time. I'd wait to hear the sound of the baby's voice, and when I heard Mommy's footsteps on the stairway. I rose eagerly, praying that she was finally carrying the baby down for me to see, but she never did.

On the one day Mommy left the house to get things she needed. I went upstairs and hurried to her bedroom door. I heard the baby. She wasn't crying, but I could hear her making baby sounds. I tried the doorknob, but found the door was locked. It was frustrating and brought tears to my eyes. I tried to talk to the baby through the keyhole and even tried to get a glimpse of her, but I saw nothing that way.

When I heard Mommy drive up. I hurried downstairs again. I offered to carry in the groceries for her, but she told me to just return to the living room. She didn't want my help.

"But I'm going crazy in there. Mommy. I need to have things to do. Why can't I see the baby? Why can't I help you?"

She didn't respond. She worked on putting away her groceries, and then she went upstairs. I returned to the living room. where I sulked and stared blankly at the television set. Even though it was a novelty for me. I was unable to keep myself from thinking about the baby and what Mommy was doing with her upstairs. I saw that it was taking a toll on her as well. She looked more tired, more haggard, every passing day.

And all this time, not a vision, not a voice, nothing. I began to wonder again if I had ever seen or heard anything spiritual. It had all been a

hallucination. something Mommy had caused with her secret potions. maybe. Noble spoke to me only in my mind, after all. It was just my conscience or my fears. I was not special. I had inherited no powers. Perhaps Mommy finally realized that, and that was why she was being so indifferent to me now.

Finally, a good two and a half weeks after the baby had been born. Mommy came downstairs, prepared my supper, served it to me, and then went to have her own. I ate and listened hard because sometimes I could hear the baby's cries better now.

Sure enough, she began to cry and then cry harder. I anticipated seeing Mommy come quickly down the hallway and go up the stairs. It did no good to follow her because she would turn on the steps and chase me back. This evening, however, she did not come down the hallway and hurry up the stairs at the sound of the baby's crying.

I rose and cautiously entered the dining room. I saw her sitting at the table, only she had her head down on her arms and she was fast asleep. Taking the greatest care I could. I tiptoed up to her, and then as gently as I was able to. I put my hand into her apron pocket and brought out the key to her bedroom. She didn't budge. I saw her breathing remained regular. subdued. She was in a deep sleep. Perhaps she had passed out just as she had once done when she had gone to see our attorney. I couldn't help but take advantage of this great opportunity.

I moved as quickly and as quietly as I could down the hallway and then up the stairs. At the top of the stairway. I paused to be sure she had not waken. All was quiet below, but the baby was crying harder behind the locked door of Mommy's bedroom. I inserted the key and entered.

Mommy had set up a crib right beside her bed. Her bed was unmade, and her room was messier than I had ever seen it. It was actually in disarray: clothing scattered about, diapers piled on the vanity table, some dishes with food from days before lying on tables, and even some dishes on the floor.

I went quickly to the crib and looked down at the baby. For a moment I thought something was wrong with her, and then I realized what it was.

Her hair was dyed my color. She was no longer a redhead. I got over the shock of it quickly and lifted her into my arms. It was obvious she was hungry. I glanced around to see if Mommy had left any bottles, and then I thought, how stupid.

I opened my shirt and brought her lips to my nipple, and she began to feed, her eyes on me with what I thought was great excitement and contentment. It brought a smile to my face. I sat in the chair beside the crib and watched her suckle.

Shortly after. I felt a dark shadow fall over us. and I looked up to see Mommy standing in the doorway. She looked angry enough to lunge at me, but she didn't move.

She just watched and waited for the feeding to end.

Then she walked calmly across the room and gently took the baby out of my arms, cupping her in her own. Her face blossomed with happiness.

I was trembling inside, but she didn't notice. She never even looked at me. She rocked the baby in her arms until the baby's eyes closed, and then she placed her back in the crib and covered her little body with the tiny pink blanket.

I stood up and watched over her shoulder. Finally, she turned and looked at me.

"You have to go back to your room," she said. "and wait until you're needed."

"But Mommy... the baby's hair. Why did you dye it a different color?"

She shook her head as if she had hear pure gibberish and smiled at me.

"I didn't dye her hair. silly."