He paused and put his hands on my shoulders as he looked directly at me.

"I'd really like to be of some help to you, Noble. Maybe I can do one thing right. Please don't hesitate to confide in me if you have any secret desires, wishes, ambitions. I won't laugh at anything, and if you want it enough. I'll do my best to help you, even if it means convincing your mother. okay?"

"Yes. sir."

"Dave. Dave. Call me Dave or call me Dad, but nothing else."

I doubt that I could ever get myself to call him Dad. Perhaps in that respect. I was like Betsy, who could never get herself to call Mama Mother or Mom.

I just nodded and we walked on, talking about nature, about the vegetation, the birds, the weather, anything and everything but Betsy and Elliot.

Mama was surprised at how much I was doing with Dave these days. At first she said nothing about it. I thought she would think it nice, of course. I was giving him same comfort, but when we returned from our long walk in the woods this time, she was sitting on the porch waiting and she looked upset and annoyed. Baby Celeste was taking a nap.

"Where have you two been?" she asked immediately, making me feel as if we had missed an appointment.

"Oh. Noble showed me some of the prettier spots in the forest and around the creek. There's quite a long, empty field southwest. I never realized how close we were to Spring Glen either. You can see the highway from a rise just after that field I mentioned.

We saw quite a number of deer, too, didn't we.

Noble?"

':Yes."

"Overpopulation, I suppose," Dave said. "Baby asleep?"

"Yes, she's taking a nap."

"Good idea. I think I might just do the same. It's been a while since I took a hike that long, Noble.

Thanks for the walk."

"You're welcome," I said, and he went in' side.

Mama looked at me and then stared ahead a moment. I turned to go to the shed. "Noble," she called.

I paused and looked at her. "What, Mama?"

"Don't get too close to Dave."

"Why not?"

She didn't answer me. She just turned away.

"Mama?"

She looked at me again and I knew she would say no more. It frightened me. Why would she say such a thing? Was she afraid I would reveal all our dark secrets, betray her? For the remainder of the day, I would stop whatever I was doing and suddenly realize I was trembling so badly, my hands shook. I couldn't get her eyes out of my mind.

Dave slept right through dinner this particular evening. Mama said she had gone up to look in on him and decided not to wake him.

"I'll bring him something to eat later," she said, which was exactly what she did.

The following day he once again called in sick and did not go to work. He remained in bed with Mama bringing him things to eat and drink.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked before we sat at the table to have dinner.. I hadn't seen him all day.

He thinks he has the flu. You know pharmacists. They think they're doctors. He asked for it so I made some garlic soup for him. I don't think that's his problem. but I did it to humor him, and good garlic soup has other medicinal and nutritional value anyway."

"Maybe he should go see a doctor."

"Doctors," she muttered as if they were all charlatans. "He'll be just fine if he does what I tell him and eats and drinks what I give him and," she added pointedly, "stops thinking about that spoiled brat."

Mama always did wonders whenever I was ill. I couldn't deny it. I had never had some of the inoculations children were supposed to be Oven, but no one cared or checked to see if I had. I never attended public school where they might have checked.

The following day Dave did get up, dress, and come downstairs, but he looked much weaker and even much paler. We had our first real winter precipitation in the form of snow flurries. Although it had been cold, it was proving to be one of the driest winters on record. I made a nice fire in the fireplace and Dave sat near it, warming himself. He didn't seem able to rid himself of the chill. Mama made him wear a heavy sweater and gave him hot herbal teas and mixes, but he was uncomfortable all day.

Baby Celeste tried with more determination to get him to pay attention to her. He didn't want to ignore her or make her unhappy, but he was afraid he was coming down or had come down with something contagious and asked me to keep her from getting too close to him. His appetite was small at dinner, almost nonexistent. He picked at his food and tried to eat more to please Mama.

"Everything is very good. Sarah,' he said apologetically. "It's just my stomach. It feels like I have a chain being tightened around it."

She nodded and told him not to worry about how much he ate. but I was alarmed. Why wasn't he thinking about going to a doctor at this point, especially with these symptoms? He should know enough to do so himself. When Mama wasn't in earshot, I asked him.

"Your mother's probably right, Noble. I probably have a touch of the bug. Her remedies are just as effective as anything I have at the drugstore for this, or anything else any doctor might prescribe," he insisted. "Thanks for being concerned."

When Mama returned from the kitchen. I turned away from him quickly and she looked at me suspiciously. Later. after Dave had gone to bed and she had put Baby Celeste to sleep, she confronted me in the living room. I was rereading Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca, a novel I knew Mama thought was inappropriate for me. She didn't come right out and say it. She would simply ask. "Why are you reading that?" She pronounced that as if it were pornography.

It annoyed her to see me reading it again.

"If you're going to read that sort of book, do it in private. You should be reading something more...

vigorous." Manly was really what she meant.

I closed it quickly and put it aside.

"Why," she continued, still glaring at me. "do you continually tell Dave to go see a doctor?"

"He doesn't look well. Mama, and he's missed so much work and seems so weak." "His illness comes from places doctors know nothing about. I told you not to interfere." "I'm not interfering. I just thought a""

"Don't," she said, snapping the word like a whip over my head. "Don't think, Things are taking place that are beyond your control, and mine for that matter."

"What things?" She didn't reply.

"Mama, what things?"

She looked away and then turned slowly back to me. "I was right about Baby Celeste. I even underestimated her. She has been chosen. What we have done for her is wonderful. You have, to this point, been a great help, been of great assistance. Do nothing to ruin that now. Noble. Nothing, do you understand?"

I started to shake my head and stopped. It was better to nod, to agree.

"Will Dave get better soon?" I asked. "It's not up to us."

"Who is it up to, then?"

She glared back at me. "Don't be insolent.

Noble. I don't like it, and it doesn't sound like you."

she added, the threat so heavy. I nearly choked up.

"Aren't you worried about him?" I dared to pursue.

She took a step toward me, steely eyed. "I am worried only about Baby Celeste, and you should be.

too."

"I worry about her...

"I mean solely her. Everything else will take care of itself or be taken care of. Noble."

What did that mean? Be taken care of? She saw the question in my face and I knew it annoyed her.

"There was one thing that Betsy said about you that I agree with," she continued, her voice suddenly more pleasant.

"What's that?"

"I want you to go get your driver's license. I know you know how to drive. Noble. but I am inclined to have you rim errands for me in the future, the near future. It will be of some help for you to be capable of doing that."

I know I had my mouth open because she immediately said I would catch flies if I continued to sit there staring up at her like that.

"Okay. Mama, Sure," I said, trying not to sound too excited. "When?"

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? But isn't this something that has to be done by appointment?"

"Your appointment has been made. You will take the driving test at two P.M. I'll bring you there myself," she said, then turned and walked away.

Been made? How long had she been planning this? Why had she waited until now to tell me? Why hadn't she let me practice more? Was it something she had still been debating and had only decided this very moment? What made her decide? It was so confusing.

but I was too happy to utter a single complaint.

Instead. I went out to our car and practiced parallel parking in our driveway. I could easily pass the written part of the test concerning all the driving rules and laws.

My mind was a jumbled mess that night, torn between the excitement of being able to drive myself and go places whenever I wanted, and the situation developing rapidly with Dave. While I was tossing and turning about all this. I suddenly became suspicious of Mama's real intentions. I had grown too fond of Dave to let him wallow in any sort of agony.

He should at least take better care of his health. I thought.

But what more could I really do? Mama was right about my face: it told all, and I was never any good at keeping something secret from her long. The spirits that passed through my thoughts and saw everything in my head passed along and into hers as well. Spies were everywhere, even while I slept, even listening to and looking at my dreams.

In the morning Dave was excited for me when Mama told him what we were going to do that afternoon. He was still not feeling up to going into the store and decided he needed a day or so more of rest. I shifted my eyes from him quickly so Mama couldn't accuse me of anything, but he caught my look despite that and then declared that if he wasn't appreciably better in twenty-four to thirty-six hours, he would go see his doctor.

"Not that you're not doing everything you can for me. Sarah," he added quickly. "I appreciate and truly believe in your remedies. I might have something that really does require an antibiotic though."

She shook her head. "Do what you think you should." she said, making it sound like a personal affront to her and her reputation.

"We'll set," he said.

It sounded too much like surrender to me and it amazed me. His love for Mama was greater than his concern for himself. He worried more about hurting her feelings than improving his health. I glanced at her and thought maybe Betsy was right. Maybe Mama did have the power to put a spell over someone.

Before we left for the motor vehicle bureau, she prepared one of her drinks for him and had him go up to bed and rest. She had me do the driving to the bureau.

"As soon as you get your license. I'm going to have you do all our grocery shopping, Noble. I need to spend more time on my herbal supplements and remedies. Mr. Bogart is connecting me with another national health-food distributor and we'll have even more to do in the near future."

It all sounded good. I did look forward to my first experience alone in the shopping mails and stores. Despite all that I had been taught, seen, and heard. I couldn't help feeling like a prisoner about to begin a work-release program. The freedom was exciting and terrifying simultaneously, but that Mama was making it happen gave me confidence. I'd be all right. It would all be fine.

The driving license examiner was a short, balding man with round, glassy eyes and a soft, pudgy pair of dull red lips that seemed habitually in a pout.

His name. Jerome Carter, was on his name tag, and he nodded at it when he introduced himself with a perfunctory, timid handshake, the handshake of someone afraid he might be contaminated by touching someone else. From the things he said to Mama, he gave me the impression he would like to eliminate everyone less than twenty-one and more than sixty from the driving population. We had brought Baby Celeste with us and he did lighten up when he saw how she smiled at him. Mama and she waited back in the motor vehicle bureau lobby while I went out on the test.

Mr. Carter said nothing except when he gave me directions and commands. While I drove, he scribbled on his notepad and clipboard. I thought he was quite unsatisfied with my performance. and I resigned myself to being failed and having to reschedule, but to my surprise and delight, he told I'vlama I appeared to be a very responsible young man.

She looked more pleased than I was. I couldn't wait to get home to tell Dave of my success. He wasn't up and about as I had hoped, however.

"Isn't he sleeping too much?" I asked Mama after she had gone up to the bedroom and reported he was asleep.

"When you are in a healing process, you sleep.

Your body needs the rest," she said, but without the kind of conviction I was accustomed to hearing in her voice and words. It troubled me. but I said nothing.

Later that evening, apparently at Dave's direction, she called his store manager and told him Dave would not be in to work for the remainder of the week. I heard her say he was weak from his illness and it would be better for him to get good rest.

Afterward, she looked at me so hard. I had to shift my eyes and pretend to be interested in something else. I didn't hear Dave get up at all that night and he didn't come down to breakfast in the morning. Finally, he rose in the afternoon, but he didn't dress. He wore his bathrobe and moved about in his slippers.

To me he looked dazed. Whenever I spoke to him, he didn't hear until I repeated it, and all he did when he rose was shuffle about the house, glance out the window, and then settle in that rocking chair, where he drifted in and out of short naps.

"He belongs in a hospital," I told Mama.

"What are you now, a doctor? The man is capable of deciding whether or not he needs to be in a hospital. Noble. He has had more medical training than the average person, hasn't he, and certainly more than you?"

What could I say to contradict that?

The following day my license arrived. Mama decided we should have a little celebration. Dave did seem to cheer up at the news, and she described her preparations of one of his favorite dinners, chicken Kiev. Naturally, she would make a rhubarb pie. Dave was so excited, he vowed he would shave and dress.

He did look stronger. Perhaps this is the start of his real recovery, I thought. How fortunate that all these good things were happening simultaneously.

"Be careful. Noble." Dave called to me. No speeding tickets. okay?" "No," I said.

"As soon as up and about a little more. I'll take a ride with you. okay?"

"Okay. Dave," I said, and he beamed back a smile that lifted my spirits.