The second day after Thanksgiving break from school, Raven found Mama on the floor when she woke up. Her eyes stared, but she was breathing. She had entered the spirit world.
Mama had lost a lot of weight, but Raven still had to use all her strength to raise her to her feet and support her until she got her into bed. She pulled the covers over her. “Mama . . . are you okay? Do you want me to make your tea?”
Mama stared as if she weren’t there. She had entered the spirit world many times since Raven was little, but this time Raven was afraid her body was too weak to come back. She decided she wouldn’t go to school.
She propped Mama up and held cooled tea to her lips. “Drink, Mama. This is your favorite. It has licorice in it.”
She was relieved when Mama sipped at the tea and gradually focused her eyes on her.
“Daughter . . . ,” she said.
“Yes, Mama?”
“The spirits won’t heal me. I don’t understand . . . I don’t understand . . .” Tears dripped from her pale eyes.
“It’s time to see a doctor,” Raven said. “Let’s call Aunt Sondra and have her bring Dr. Pat. Tell me her phone number and how to get in your phone. I’ll call right now.”
“No!” Her former will gleamed in her eyes. “You will promise me no doctors! Promise me now!”
Raven thought of what Jackie had said. You take your promises to her too seriously.
Mama saw she didn’t want to promise. “This is my body and spirit, Daughter,” she said with surprising vehemence. “I will not have anyone fiddling with it! I will not be attached to their machines and needles. I will not let them do what they did to my mother!”
“What did they do?”
“They took all dignity and fight out of her. She wanted to die on our land in Montana, and they wouldn’t let her.”
Mama’s face blurred in tears. “Are you saying you think you’re going to die?”
Mama held her hand. Her skin was cold. “I’m fighting this thing, Raven. I’m still speaking to the spirits. If you take me to one of those hospitals, I will surely die as my mother did. Promise me no doctors. Not ever.”
“But what if—”
“Promise!”
“I promise, Mama.” Tears dripped down her cheeks.
“Daughter . . . I’m comfortable with going to the spirits. They’ve been good to me. They gave me you. And it’s for you that I need to stay in this world. Surely the spirits see that. You aren’t ready to be on your own yet.”
“I know. I’m so scared.”
Mama squeezed her hand. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here. I’ll keep you safe.”
For how long? If the spirits hadn’t yet helped her, would they ever?
Mama’s eyes started losing focus again. But she seemed to look at something behind Raven. Raven turned around but saw nothing. It must be a spirit Mama could see. But earth spirits were unlikely to come inside a house. They would feel trapped there.
“I have to keep her safe,” Mama whispered to the spirit. “Let me keep her safe.” After a silence, she said anxiously, “I did no wrong! She was given to me. Don’t punish me! I did nothing wrong!”
Raven clasped her hand. “No one will punish you, Mama.”
Mama turned her eyes toward her but seemed to look through her. “They might be punishing me. I’m not sure. I don’t remember what I did . . . how I got you. They might be angry about what I did. That might be why I’m sick.”
“What do you mean? They gave me to you.”
“Yes . . . they gave you to me. A perfect baby. A miracle.” She clutched Raven’s hand so hard it hurt. “Don’t ever let that man say you’re his! He’s bad! He kills the earth spirits! He’s like my father with his corporations and his chemicals poisoning the land! You were never meant to be his!”
“Who? What man?”
“That senator. Bauhammer!” Mama pressed her hand to her forehead. “He’s dead. I remember now. He can never come here. He can’t take you.”
Raven didn’t understand what she was talking about with the senator. But Mama often confused memories when she was halfway between the material and spiritual worlds. Raven could easily see how that would happen.
Mama’s body suddenly went slack, and her eyes closed. Raven frantically pressed her hand on Mama’s heart. She couldn’t feel it beating. She laid her head on her chest, listening.
She heard it. The heart beating. Mama hadn’t died. Yet she looked so pale and lifeless.
When she was certain Mama would continue breathing, Raven left to make breakfast. And later lunch, then dinner. By nightfall, Mama hadn’t woken to eat. Raven slept in her bed, her arm tucked around Mama to feel her warmth.
Raven had never missed school because of Mama’s shifts into the spirit world. The times it happened on a school day, she had trusted Mama’s health enough to leave her. Mama would stay in the spirit world for a day, sometimes two. This shift had started on Tuesday, and Raven was still at home taking care of her on Thursday. She had missed three days of classes, but she was too panicked about Mama to care.
She was trying to spoon broth into Mama’s mouth when the alarm went off. Someone was coming down the driveway. Probably a deer or a coyote. That had happened before. Yet her heart still throbbed as fast as it had when she was a little girl.
But maybe it was her aunt. She was the only person who knew the code—so she could get in when she visited with Dr. Pat.
Raven put down the soup and ran to the video cameras. The second alarm joined the first, which meant whoever or whatever was in the driveway was getting closer. There were three warnings in total.
She stared at the third video camera. A man. She leaned closer to the grainy image. It was Jackie, walking fast.
She flung open the front door. People were absolutely forbidden anywhere near her house. The rule was so ingrained that she ran in a panic without putting on shoes. She hardly felt the cold or the driveway stones bruising her feet.
She met Jackie at the place where the last alarm triggered. Now three sounded inside the house. She should have turned them off. But she doubted Mama was aware enough to be upset.
“Jackie!” she said breathlessly.
He had stopped walking about ten yards from her. “Did you see me coming on the cameras?”
“Yes.”
He stared at the house, now visible around a bend. “What’s that sound?”
She had left the door open. Each of the three alarms made a different sound to tell them the location of the intruder. There were two others in back that turned on after they went to bed.
She didn’t even try to explain.
“You jumped the fence?” she asked.
“Yes. I’m sorry, but I’ve been really worried. You’ve never missed three days of school. I just wanted to know you were okay.”
“I’m okay.”
He stared at the house. “Are those alarms?”
“Yes.”
“Not fire alarms, I hope?”
“No.”
He walked closer, studying her face. She probably looked bad. “Are you sick?”
“I’m fine.”
“Then why—”
“My mother is sick.”
Normally she wouldn’t give out any information about her mother. But she thought it might make him leave faster.
“Does she have the flu? It’s going around school.”
“Yes, it’s the flu,” she said. “You shouldn’t get near us.”
The way he looked at her, he might know she was lying.
“I’ll open the gate so you can get out,” she said.
They had taken only about five steps away from the house when Raven’s mother weakly cried, “Who are you? Where do you think you’re going with her?”
They turned around. Raven’s heart about stopped at the sight of Mama stumbling down the steps in a nightgown, the pistol she kept in her bedside drawer aimed at Jackie.
“You will not take her!” Mama said as she staggered
toward them. “You have no right to her! Give her back, or I swear I’ll shoot!”
Raven jumped in front of Jackie with her arms stretched out. “Mama, stop! He’s a friend! He’s a friend from school!”
“No, he’s tricking you!” Mama said. “Don’t go with him! I know who he is! He’s from New York! I recognize him!”
“Mama, please! He lives down the road. He’s not from New York.”
Mama nearly fell, and as she tried to right herself, Raven was terrified the gun would go off.
“His name is Jack Danner,” she said. “I went to his father’s funeral. Do you remember that? His mother teaches at the school I used to go to.”
Mama steadied herself, swaying, and stared at Jackie. Her white-blonde hair was in wild disarray, and her face was pale and gaunt. The light of the setting sun illuminated her bony body through the thin fabric of her nightgown. She looked like a human ghost in stories.
Raven walked slowly toward her. “Let me take the gun.”
“I heard the alarms,” she said softly. “I woke up. I didn’t know where you were.”
“I know. That must have been confusing.” She carefully released the gun from Mama’s grip and set its safety switch.
She turned to Jackie, frozen in the same spot. “My mother has a high fever. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said.
“Why are you on my land?” Raven’s mother asked. She looked and sounded much more herself. She had fully departed the spirit world.
“I was worried about Raven. She’s missed three days of school.”
“If you go to school, I assume you know what the words no trespassing mean.”
“Yes, I do. I’m very sorry, Ms. Lind.”
Mama continued to stare imperiously.
“Mama, he said he’s sorry,” Raven said. “It’s cold, and you’re sick. You should go inside.”
“I am not sick,” Mama said.
“Please go inside. I’ll let him out.”
She crooked a finger at Jackie. “Don’t you ever come back here.”
“I won’t,” he said.
Raven felt like she could breathe again when Mama turned toward the house. She and Jackie walked to the outer road in silence. She still had the gun, held down at her side. She pressed the code into the pad to open the gate.
“Can she hear us?” he asked, looking at the nearest camera.
“No.”
He started to say something but stopped himself. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Raven and held her. He had never done that. She couldn’t hug him back because she had the gun in her hand. She supposed it was mostly a pity hug, but it still felt good.
He let her go and said, “I hope you come back to school soon. I miss you.” He got in his car and drove away as the gate closed.
As bad as the last ten minutes had been, Raven was elated that Mama had come back to the human world. Jackie had made it happen. Maybe the spirits had guided him into trespassing on their land. If there was one thing that could pull Mama out of the spirit world, it was a perceived threat to her daughter.
The alarms were off when she returned to the house.
“Is he your new boyfriend?” Mama asked.
“He’s a friend.”
She smiled slyly. “I saw him embrace you.”
“Why were you watching us?” Raven asked.
She took Raven’s face in her thin hands. “Because you are my treasure. I will watch over you in this life and also in the next.”
7
The last bell signaled winter vacation. The halls were loud with celebration.
Every year Raven wondered what it would be like to live in that world, to have all those fun events to look forward to. Throughout the day, she heard talk about what presents people were getting, and family visiting, ski and beach vacations, and what people were giving their boyfriends or girlfriends.
She had nothing to look forward to. Days away from school were no joy. At first it was nice to have a rest from studying. Then the monotony set in. And this year would be more difficult because Mama was sick. Rather than escape the constant worries for a few hours, they would be there all day and every day.
And there would be no Jackie. For almost two weeks.
She met him at his car. “You look less than merry,” he said as he started the engine.
“I don’t like winter break.”
“Don’t you like sleeping in?”
“That’s overrated.”
“What about Santa?”
“Santa has never stopped at my house.”
“You don’t get anything?”
“My aunt will send me a gift.”
“Nothing at all from your mother?”
“No.”
He pulled into a line of cars waiting to get out of the school parking lot. “I know something that will make you like winter break.”
“What?”
“A little Christmas party at my house with our old crew: Reece, Huck, my mom, and me. This Friday.”
“Reece is coming?”
He smiled. “I knew that would do it. He’s sleeping over. We’re having dinner around six.”
Why was he tormenting her by telling her this?
“Come on! Don’t say you can’t. Your mom let you go all over the place with Chris last spring.”
“That was Chris. This is—”
“I know, the forbidden land. Not one foot, etcetera.”
“It’s not funny. I really want to come.”
“So come. I’ll pick you up. I’ll be at your gate at quarter to six.”
“I haven’t asked her yet.”
“We have to preplan because you don’t have a phone.”
“I don’t need a ride,” she said.
“That’s a long walk. And the stream will be too cold for wading. Just let me pick you up.”
“You know I can’t agree right now.”
He went silent. The quiet in the car didn’t have its usual companionable ease. Raven kept her face turned away, looking out the side window at the snow-dusted woods and fields.
He parked in front of her gate. She lifted her backpack off the floor.
“Will you ask about the party?”
“I have to see how she is.”
“Is she . . . ?”
“Is she what?”
“Is she always like she was that day?”
He hadn’t mentioned anything about that day. And she was certain he hadn’t told anyone about Mama threatening him with a gun—as Chris had.
“She was unwell,” she said. She opened the door to prevent further discussion of her mother.
“Please at least ask her,” he said.
She stepped out of the car. “I don’t understand why you’d do this when you’ve known the situation all these years. It’s kind of mean, Jackie.”
“Mean! Huck and I wanted you and Reece to do something fun for Christmas. His mother doesn’t do anything for the holidays either. How is that mean?”
“Does Reece know it’s a pity party?”
“Oh my god, are you serious?”
“Does he?”
“You know what? He does know we’ve invited him over all these years to give him a break from his mother. And he’s okay with that because he gets it. He knows we really care about him. And he really cares about us. If you see something wrong in that, I’m sorry.” He leaned over the passenger seat and pulled the door closed.
She backed away as he put the car into gear and drove away. Her feet felt almost too heavy to walk.
Mama wasn’t in the house. Lately she’d been going out every day. Probably asking the spirits to heal her.
Raven made dinner. When Mama got home, she was out of breath and holding her chest. She was quiet and barely ate anything. Raven didn’t ask about the party. She dared not risk getting her angry and overexcited.
The next few days, Raven spent many hours walking the land. She did Askings, not to go to the party but to heal Mama. She thought
a lot about Jackie and wished she hadn’t called his invitation a pity party. She was the one who was mean. Whatever was poisoning Mama was seeping into her.
On Friday, the day of the party, Raven decided to ask Mama. She wanted to see Jackie. She wanted his little yellow house and Reece and Huck and Ms. Danner. She wanted to go back to the best summer ever.
Mama woke in a worrisome mood, muttering to spirits Raven couldn’t see. She sometimes did that before she collapsed, before she entered the world of spirits. Raven had to wait to ask about the party.
But Mama left the house, still whispering. Raven stayed home to wait for her. She wanted to catch Mama when she returned, hopefully in a good mood from being with the earth spirits.
While she read a book assigned for English class, snow started to come down fast in the late afternoon. She was worried for Mama in the cold and slippery snow. She made soup so she would have something warm to eat.
At least two inches of snow had fallen when Mama returned. She was out of breath as always, pale, and sweating despite the cold. But she wasn’t whispering anymore.
“I have hot beef and barley soup ready for you,” Raven said. “I’ll put bread in the oven.”
“No bread,” Mama said. “I’ll just have the soup.”
Raven put one bowl of soup on the table. She wouldn’t eat because Jackie said they’d have dinner at the party.
“Aren’t you having any?” Mama asked.
“I had some while I made it. I’m not hungry.”
Mama’s hand shook slightly as she brought spoons of soup to her mouth.
“The snow is pretty, isn’t it?” Raven asked.
“Yes.” She looked at Raven with gleaming eyes. “I saw a spirit I’ve never seen before. It looked like my mother made of white swirls. She was calling to me.”
A cold lump of snow seemed to fall into Raven’s stomach. “You never told me your mother’s earth spirit is here. Why has she come to this land?”
The fervent shine in Mama’s eyes diminished. “I don’t know if it was her. Maybe it was a dream. I think I was sleeping. No, but . . . no. I don’t remember.”
The Light Through the Leaves Page 23
