Page 187

"Why? Now no one will wonder which one of us is you and which one is me. I'm the one who can't walk. That's easy to tell," she said. "I'm the one who can't walk." Her chin quivered.

r />

"Oh, Gisselle, you'll walk again. I'll do everything I can to help you," I promised.

"What can you do. . mumble some Cajun prayer over my legs? The doctors were here; they told me the ugly truth."

"You can't give up hope. Never give up hope. That's what. . ." I was going to say, that's what Grandmere Catherine taught me, but I hesitated.

"Easy for you to say. You walked in here and you'll walk out," she moaned. Then she took a deep breath and sighed. "Have you seen Martin? How's he doing?"

"No, I haven't seen him. I came right to see you," I said and bit down on my lower lip.

"I remember telling him he was going too fast, but he thought it was funny. Just like you, he thought everything was funny all of a sudden. I bet he's not laughing now. You go see him,"" she said. "And be sure he knows what's happened to me. Will you go?"

I nodded.

"Good. I hope he feels terrible; I hope. . oh, what's the difference what I hope?" She gazed up at me. "You're happy this happened to me, aren't you?"

"No. I never wanted this much. I . ."

"What do you mean, 'this much'? You wanted some-thing?" She studied my face a moment. "Well?"

"Yes," I said. "I admit it. You were so mean to me, got me into so much trouble and did so many bad things to me, I went to see a voodoo queen."

"What?"

"But she told me it wasn't my fault. It was yours because you had so much hate in your heart," I added quickly.

"I don't care what she said. tell Daddy what you did and he'll hate you forever. Maybe now he'll send you back to the swamps."

"Is that what you want, Gisselle?"

She thought a moment and then smiled, but such a tight, small smile, it sent chills down my spine.

"No. I want you to make it up to me. From now on until I say, you make it up to me."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Anything I ask," she said. "You better."

"I already said I would help you, Gisselle. And I'm going to do it because I want to, not because you threaten me," I told her.

"You're making the pain come back into my head," she moaned.

"I'm sorry. I'll go."

"Not until I tell you to go," she said. I stood there, looking down at her. "All right. Go. But go to Martin and tell him what I told you to tell him and then come back later tonight and tell me what he said. Go on," she commanded, and grimaced with pain. I turned and started away. "Ruby!" she called.

"What?"

"You know the only way we can be twins again?" she asked. I shook my head. She smiled. "I'll tell you. Get crippled," she said, and closed her eyes.

I lowered my head and walked out. Mama Dede's prescription was going to be much more difficult than I could ever imagine. Unravel the sisters of hate and love in Gisselle's heart? I might as well try to hold back night, I thought, and went to join Daddy and Beau who waited in the lounge.

Two days later Gisselle was told about Martin. The news struck her dumb. It was as if she believed that all that had happened to her, the injuries, the paralysis was nothing more than a dream that would soon end. The doctors would give her some pills and send her home to resume her life, just the way she had been living it. But when she was told Martin was dead and in fact the funeral was being held that very day, she withered, grew pale and small, and sealed her lips. She didn't cry in front of Daphne or Daddy and when they left and I remained with her, she didn't cry in front of me either. But as soon as I started away to go with my parents to the funeral, I heard her first sob. I ran back to her.

"Gisselle," I said, stroking her hair. She spun around and looked up at me, but not with gratitude for my returning to comfort her, but with blazing, angry eyes.