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"That's some costume." I told her. "I bet it took you a long time to get it on, didn't it. Gerta?"

Her eyelids fluttered.

"Gerta," Rose said, sitting beside her. "aren't you feeling well tonight? Do you need something? We're here to help you. We'd like to help you. right.

"Yes." I said quickly.

Ice, who was looking at the pile of records, suddenly turned toward her, holding one of the records in her hands, and began in to sing a soft voice:

" Put on the skillet, slip on the lid. Mama's gonna make a little short'nin' bread. That ain't all she's gonna do. Mama's gonna make a little coffee too.' "

Ice laughed.

"My mama used to sing me this one. 'Shortnin' short'nin', short'nin bread.' "

Gerta raised her eyes and slowly began to smile. Ice looked at us and went into the chorus,

" 'Mama's little baby loves short'nin'. shortnin. Mama's little baby loves...' "

Gerta cried. " 'Shortnin bread.' "

Together they sang, " 'Mama's little baby loves short'nin. "

And then we all joined in to finish with. '"Mama's little baby loves short'nin bread.' " Gerta laughed.

"I never had short'nin bread," she said.

"Well, we oughta go out and get some for her," Rose declared.

"I was supposed to go out today," Gerta said. "but it got canceled, so I decided to put on a different dress and hair."

"Where were you supposed to go. Gerta?" Cinnamon asked her.

"To buy new clothes."

Cinnamon looked thoughtful for a moment and then walked quickly back to the bedroom,

"Let's sing again." Gerta said. "Put on the record."

"Okay," Ice said.

"Everyone, come in here!" Cinnamon called to us. "One moment. Gerta," Ice said.

We joined Cinnamon, who was standing at the closet, the doors wide open.

"Look at this. All that's here are men's clothes: jackets, slacks, even men's shoes." She opened the dresser drawers, glancing in each one. "Except for some undergarments and a few nightgo

wns, she has nothing feminine."

"So with the exception of the costumes. which I'm sure she can't wear long, if anyone sees her dressed, he or she would think he had seen a man," Rose said.

"Exactly," Ice said. "And that may be why she stole your clothes. Rose, and yours. Honey," Cinnamon concluded.

"She wants to be who she is, but they're not letting her." I said.

"Maybe," Cinnamon said, her eves taking on that look of deep thought again. "And maybe there's some more deeply psychological reason. I've been through the effects of depression. remember. There are all sorts of reasons for some-thing like this."

Everyone nodded.