Afterward. when Betsy was in the bathroom.

Mama asked me why I had promised her such a thing.

"She was so desperate and pleading and crying.

I didn't know what else to tell her. Mama."

She considered, "Well.. I don't mind your being compassionate, Noble, but you have to be careful with her. She knows how to take advantage of people and play upon their kindnesses. Look what she did to her poor father."

"I know, Mama. but I think things would be easier for all of us if she was Given some rewards for the work she's doing. She's doing what you want her to do now," I emphasized.

"Hmm. Maybe."

"Can she have her own clothes back?"

"I don't see how that's possible." Mama started out to the car.

"Why not. Mama?" I dared to pursue.

She turned and smiled. "Because I had to burn them and bury them. Noble."

"You burned them?"

"Of course. Haven't I always taught you that fire is the most effective form of purification? Be careful. Don't give your trust and your good heart away too quickly. Take good care of Baby Celeste. I'll be home before dinner," she said, and left.

I stood there staring at the closed door, my heart pounding. Burned them? Buried them?

I looked at Baby Celeste, who had gotten herself ready to go out to the garden. Time to work,"

she said.

I started for the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" I heard Betsy ask, and turned to see her standing in the hallway. "Get your ass in here and work on the pantry."

But if I don't do what has to be done in the garden..."

"I don't care about that stupid garden. Did you find out where my clothes are?"

"Burned," Baby Celeste said.

I turned to look at her so quickly, a sharp pain shot through my neck. She looked so much older, her face firm and her eyes steady and dark.

"What did she say?"

"Nothing. I didn't get a chance to find out."

"Yeah. right. When your mother gets back, we're going to the mall, Noble. God, why do I keep calling you that? Maybe I'll just forget and call you Celeste. huh?"

I saw how much she enjoyed tormenting me.

Panther started to cry in the kitchen. She had left him in the bassinet.

"Oh, that kid is so cranky here. Actually, he's cranky everywhere. I'm too young for a baby. Look after him, too. I'm going to borrow some of your mother's makeup and see about my hair."

"You can't go into her bedroom! I cried.

"Watch me. She took mine, didn't she? I want to do my nails, too. I"m falling apart in this house.

You'll bring my lunch up to me later. Ill have an egg sandwich. I have to admit that bread your mother makes is good. She should be a baker and stop all this other nonsense."

Panther's cries grew louder.

Betsy put her hands over her ears. "It's all yours," she said, and hurried to the stairway.

I went into the kitchen, Baby Celeste followed; however, she looked unhappy about it. She waited while I calmed Panther, but she looked impatient.

"We have to go to the garden," she said. "Not now. First we have to do the pantry." "No," she said firmly.

"Just listen to me and do what I say. Celeste," I said irritably. Betsy was doing this to me, making me intolerant, but I couldn't help it.

Baby Celeste shook her head defiantly and started out of the kitchen.

"Celeste, don't you dare go out You wait for me to finish in here first. You can help with the pantry."

"We have to go to the garden."

Panther started to cry again. What did he want?

He had been fed and he didn't feel wet. "Shh." I said, rocking him gently. He cried harder.

"The garden." Baby Celeste said, and stamped her foot. Then she turned to go out the front door.

I ran after her and, holding Panther in my tight arm, seized her shoulder with my left and turned her back sharply. She winced but she didn't cry.

"You stay with me. Celeste. I told you we'll go to the garden later."

She glared up at me, then shifted her eyes toward the stairway as if she knew this was all Betsy's fault. Her eyes grew small and dark and her lips tightened. How much she looked like Mama. I thought.

"Help me with Panther," I said more gently.

"Make him stop crying."

She thought a moment and then, with some reluctance, reached up to touch his hand. The moment she did so, he stopped wailing. His sobs wound down as he looked at her. She never shifted her eves from his.

"See, he likes you. You can be a great help to me,- I said, and returned to the kitchen. I put him back in his bassinet and placed it on the kitchen floor. Baby Celeste stood beside it and looked down at him. He reached up and she took his hand into hers.

"Thank you. Celeste." I said, and started on the pantry, Before I was finished. Panther had fallen asleep and Baby Celeste had curled herself up beside the bassinet and fallen asleep herself.

After I had taken everything off the shelves and dusted as Mama had wanted. I washed the pantry floor. Just as I finished. I heard Betsy calling down from the top of the stairway.

"Noble Celeste. I'm hungry. Bring me my lunch," she shouted. "Quickly."

Baby Celeste woke up, but thankfully Panther did not. I prepared the egg sandwich for Betsy and made one for Baby Celeste. too.

"We'll ao out to the garden when you're finished with lunch," I told her.

I carried up Betsy's lunch and brought it to her room, but she wasn't there, "I'm in here," she shouted from Mama's bedroom.

Slowly, anticipating something terrible. I walked to the bedroom. Betsy was sitting at the vanity table. She had almost every jar of cream open, powder splattered over the table, lipstick tubes open, and tissues everywhere. She had done up her face after much experimentation, but that wasn't the worst of it.

She was also wearing one of Mama's pretty dresses, one that she had bought when she had first begun dating Dave.

"It didn't quite fit," Betsy said, standing. "but I fixed that." She had taken a scissors to the hem and chopped it back.

"The bodice isn't bad. I'm surprised your mother wore such a dress and showed so much cleavage."

All I could do was think about what would happen if Mama returned and saw this.

"Well, is the pantry done?''

"Yes," I said, but shook my head at her and at what she had done. "You've got to clean up this room and you can't wear that."

"Oh. really? What will happen? Will I be fined?

Will she take back some of my trust fund? Will she give me some new chores? Which we now know means she'll be giving them to you. Noble Celeste."

"Please put everything back the way it was. I have your lunch."

"Just put it on the table. And go look for my clothes. Find them before she gets back or greet her at the door with headline news that will bust her heart."

I stood there, debating with myself whether I should tell her what Mama had told me and what Baby Celeste had almost revealed, but before I could decide. Panther's screams were suddenly so shrill, I practically threw Betsy's lunch tray onto the table and then ran downstairs.

When I reached the kitchen. I saw Baby Celeste standing beside the bassinet and looking down at him.

His screaming continued.

"What's wrong with him. Celeste?" I asked, and approached.

His face was crimson, the crests of his cheeks as red as raw meat. Tears flowed down his cheeks so quickly, it looked as if he could drown in his own sobs. At first I had no idea what was wrong, and then I saw the black candle beside the sole of his left foot.

The tip of the candlewick still glowed like an ember in a fireplace, and the heal of his sole was crisp and bright red. The shock of it sucked the wind out of my lungs.

Betsy had reluctantly followed me down, swaggering in the dress and holding half of her sandwich.

"What is it? Why does that kid cry so much?"

she demanded, coming up beside me.

She looked down and for a few moments just stared at him and continued to bite and chew her sandwich. Then she saw the candle and slowly knelt to pick it up and looked at it closer.

"What's this?"

I shook my head.

Baby Celeste wore a contented, firm expression without the slightest hint of any fear of reprimand.

"It was lit. Look at his foot!" Betsy cried, seeing the burn on the heel of his sole. She turned to Baby Celeste. "Did you do that to Panther?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she looked up at me.

"We have to go to the garden."

"The garden!" Betsy screamed. She threw the candle down and seized Baby Celeste's shoulders, shaking her. "Did you light a candle and put it in the bassinet? Well, did you. you littlea""

"Stop it!" I shouted. pulling Baby Celeste from her grasp. "We've got to put something on that burn quickly."

Panther had been screaming so loudly, his voice was strained.

"Why would she do that? She's crazy, too.

You're all crazy!"

I went quickly to Mama's herbal closet and found an extract of witch hazel that I knew she used for burns. I began first by applying an ice cube to relieve the pain, and then dried the spot and applied the remedy. We rocked the bassinet and eventually Panther closed his eyes and fell asleep from the shock and excitement.

Betsy stood off to the side and watched, not making any effort to help soothe her own child and comfort him.

This does it," she said when I finished. "You get me my clothes and we get your mother to give me my money. I'm out of here. I can't wait to get away from you lunatics."

"I can't get you your clothes," I said in a quiet, defeated voice. "Why not?"

"My mother said she burned and buried them."

"That's what I thought that monster said before," Betsy replied, looking at Baby Celeste.

"You'd better keep her away from Panther. Otherwise, whatever happens will be your fault."

Betsy went back upstairs.

I knelt down and took Baby Celeste's hand in mine.

"Why did you do that. Celeste? Why did you burn little Panther?" She shook her head.

"Why? Tell me," I demanded.

"Clean him."

"Clean him?"