inevitably going to leave much sooner than she ever
imagined he would? I made a mental note to ask him
about that later.
By the time we arrived at the mall, school had
ended for the day and many of the students were
already gathering at their favorite mall stores, pizza
hangouts, and the arcade. I took Echo directly to the
shoe store first to buy myself a new pair of running
shoes. I remembered all the things Brenda had told me
about good running shoes and sought them out,
Afterward. I bought Echo a bread pretzel and a soda
and just had a diet soda myself. She was intrigued by the other girls her age and couldn't take her eyes off them while they flirted with boys and giggled. The worst wallflower wasn't as outside of teenage society as poor Echo was. I thought. I should know. I had
been one.
Once again, she was fascinated by the kids in
the music store listening to music and riffling through
CDs. To my surprise she wanted to go in. I had no
idea what we would do there. but I agreed. She went
to the racks and, watching how the others were doing
it, began to sift through them, picking one out and
reading about the artist or the band as if she was really
thinking of buying it. I stood by smiling to myself
until, imitating the others, she put a CD on a player
and then put a pair of earphones on herself, too. How
sad. I thought. If my heart were made of glass, it
would have shattered in my chest.
When I tried to sign to her, she turned her back
on me quickly so the others couldn't see and discover
she was deaf. She nearly pulled it off, too, but she
caught the eye of a boy about a year or so older than
she was and he sauntered over to her. He smiled at her
and began to talk about the music she was playing. I
could see her desperately trying to read his lips, but
her fear of speaking poorly and his slightly turned head made it impossible for her to go on with her fantasy much longer. I saw the confusion in his face and so did she. She turned to me quickly in
desperation and I had no idea what to do or say. Instead. I moved in quickly and took the
earphones off. stepping between her and the boy. "What are you listening to?" I asked her, and
put on the earphones. I grimaced. "You think this is
good?" I asked the boy.
He glanced at Echo and then at me, his face
filling with annoyance.
"I wasn't talking to you." he said. "I was talking
to her." He then sidestepped to ignore me and asked
Echo who she was and where she went to school. He
wanted to know why he hadn't seen her before. Was
she a new student?
I tried to prompt her, but she was too nervous to
pick up the signals and he immediately caught her
looking at me instead of at him.
"What the hell's going on?" he asked, his
suspicions building.
"Nothing. Bug off," I said. I signed to Echo that
we should leave quickly.
He caught my hand movements and his eyes
widened.
"What are you doing?" He looked at her and
then at me. She can't hear?"
"That's right, smart ass." I said.
"Then why was she... what are you, both nuts?"
He shook his head and backed away as if we could
infect him with some strange new disease.
I hurriedly put away the CD and seized Echo's
arm to turn her toward the door. The boy was already
describing us to his friends, who all looked our way. I
heard their laughter. Echo looked back and saw their
faces of ridicule. Her face quickly fell into an
expression of total embarrassment. For her it was truly
as if she had been caught naked. I tried to walk us
down the mall corridor faster, but it was too late. The
small group of teenagers decided we were to be their
entertainment for the afternoon. We were too unusual
to be ignored and a great alternative to their ordinary
mall activities. They charged out of the music store
behind us, a small clump of kids, laughing and
hooting, which only attracted more attention and more
of their friends.
No matter where we went, they tagged along,
anxious to catch me signing to Echo, who by this time
was so frightened and confused, she was trembling. I
searched desperately for the nearest exit and directed her to it, hoping that when they saw we were leaving, they would get bored and return to their own interests. But they were probably bored with themselves. I thought, for they weren't discouraged. By now there were nearly twenty or so of them following us and the scene was attracting everyone's attention, store clerks, adult customers, and security guards. Like nails to a
magnet, other teenagers joined the moving mob. Because we left the mall from a different exit. I
was momentarily confused about where I had parked.
I started in one direction and then another. Echo now
clinging to my arm with a sickening desperation. We
couldn't shake off the hooting and jeering kids. One of
the younger, bolder girls behind us ran to catch up and
stepped in front of us.
"Why was she listening to music if she's deaf?"
she asked with a wide grin on her face. She practically
screamed the question so the others would hear. I tried
to ignore her, but she followed alongside and repeated
the question, punctuating it with a louder "Huh?
Well? Huh?"
Finally. I stopped and turned on her. The others
drew closer. "You're a very cruel person, you know
that," I said.
"Cruel? You're weird. Why did you bring her to
a music store?"
"Because she's never been to one!" I screamed
at her. She took a step back. "She's your age and she's
never heard music. She didn't even see a music store
until recently and she wishes with all her heart she
could be like you and be like them." I said. Gesturing
at the group behind us. "She was pretending, all right?
She was just pretending that she didn't have any
disabilities at all."
"I still think that's stupid," the girl replied,
angry now that I had made her retreat,
"That's because you're stupid. Its a shoe that fits
and fits well," I said. "Now just leave us alone. Go
back to your own deafness."
"Huh? My own deafness? What's that supposed
to mean?"
"Figure it out," I said, and moved Echo
forward,
"You're weird! Nuts! Freaks!" the girl shouted
after us. A chorus of "Freaks" followed.
For the first time. I thought Echo was better off
being deaf.
I couldn't wait to get us back into my car and
drive off. I had a fear they would get into cars and
follow us. but I didn't see any automobiles rushing out after us. so I finally relaxed. Echo looked as if she had retreated into a very private, dark place. She was curled up in her seat, her head down. I had no idea where I should take her now. I simply continued driving until we reached Healdsburg. I drove into the town and, seeing an arts and crafts fair in the square, pulled into a parking spot and asked Echo if she would like to walk about the booths and see t
he things people were selling. She looked very timid and still frightened, but I urged her to go, hoping to show her good things and wipe away the bad experience we just had. Hesitantly, she got out of the car with me and we began walking through the square looking at the pottery, the paintings, and the handcrafted jewelry. I
stopped when I saw a collection of dream catchers. It brought back memories of Peter Smoke. the
Indian boy I had met in school when I lived with
Brenda in Memphis. He had given me a dream
catcher. but I had left it behind when I fled Brenda's
home.
"What is it?" Echo wanted to know.
I couldn't think of all the signs for the words I
needed. so I borrowed a pen from the handicraft artist
and wrote it all out on a slip of paper for her, just the
way I remembered :Peter Smoke had told me about it. The Indians believe that the night air is filled
with dreams both good and bad. The dream catcher,
when hung over or near your bed swinging freely in
the air, catches the dreams as they flow by. The good
dreams know how to pass through the dream catcher,
slipping through the outer-holes and sliding down the
soft feathers so gently that many times the sleeper
does not know that he orshe is dreaming. The bad
dreams, not knowing the way, get tangled in the
dream catcher and perish as soon as the sun comes up
the morning.
She read the note and smiled with incredulity.
"Really? Does it work?" she wanted to knaow. I
nodded and then I bought her one.
"We'll hang it over your bed and you won't
have any more nightmares," I told her.
She blushed. I imagined she was thinking about
the night she crawled in beside me. I thought about it,
too. Was there any difference between the sexual
excitement I had felt then and the excitement I had
felt with Tyler? There were still questions about
myself I desperately needed to answer, and I knew I
wouldn't find the answers in books or magazines or
even talking with more experienced women. These
were answers that had to be discovered by myself
within myself.
We continued through the arts and crafts
festival, pausing to watch an artist create a sculpture
out of clay, another painting someone's caricature, and
another showing how she had woven beautiful
blankets. There was a booth where you could have
your picture taken and put on a mug. Echo thought
that was terrific. so I had both our pictures taken and
put on mugs.
"We'll drink from them tonight," I told her
when they were completed.
She was smiling widely again, laughing and
enjoying herself. Thank goodness for the fair. I
thought as we reached the other side of the displays. I
was turning her so we could make our way back when
I caught sight of Skeeter and Rhona coming out of a
tavern at the corner of a side street. Afraid Echo
would see them or they would see us, I quickly moved
to block her from view, When I glanced back. I saw
that two dark-haired men, both stout and rough
looking, had followed Rhona and Skeeter and were
now facing Skeeter and speaking to him with large,
threatening gestures. They were backing him up, one
stabbing him repeatedly with his finger in Skeeter's
shoulder. I hurried us along the path of booths. telling Echo we had better get home before her grandmother
got worried.
As soon as we were home. Echo couldn't wait
to tell her grandmother about the fair. She mentioned
nothing about the mall and neither did I. She went,
instead, into a long explanation about the dream
catcher and the mugs.
"It's very nice of you to buy all that for her,"
Mrs. Westington told me. "Let me reimburse you." "No, please. They're my gifts to her." "That's very nice of you."
The house was filled with the wonderful
aromas of all the food she had been making while we
were away.
"Something smells delicious," I said. "I decided to think of this as a form of
Thanksgiving," she said. "Maybe if I change my
attitude, things will be better. Maybe, just maybe, that
girl's been turned around enough to set her eyes on a
decent life for herself here. I fixed a turkey, my
special garlic mashed potatoes, cranberries, and
asparagus, which used to be Rhona's favorite
vegetable. I took out one of the pies I had frozen as
well, the apple. We'll put some ice cream on it. too.
Rhona used to love that."
She explained it all to Echo and then she asked
us to help set the table. I saw that Trevor was
definitely going to be at this dinner, which made me
happy. Echo considered it all to be a big party, a
celebration and confirmation that her mother was back
for good. I decided not to say anything about what I
had seen back at Healdsburg. I really didn't know
what it was all about anyway, and for the time being I
saw no reason not to hitch a ride on Mrs. Westington's
train of hope. I was just so happy she could get herself
to be optimistic after all that had happened.
To Mrs. Westington's deep disappointment,
however, Rhona and Skeeter did not return, nor did
they call to say when they would be back. Trevor,
dressed in what were obviously some of his nicest
clothing, arrived at dinnertime. He saw from the look
on my face that all was not well,
"Just sit yourself down. Trevor," Mrs.
Westington told him. "We won't be waiting dinner on
anyone who doesn't have the decency to call." Nevertheless. I saw how she procrastinated and
tried to delay the actual start of the meal. Finally, at
nearly seven-thirty with no word from Rhona, she
decided to begin, and Echo and I helped her bring out
the food. Rhona and Skeeter's empty place settings were difficult to ignore. Hoping to change the mood.
Trevor raved about the food and so did I.
"I'm past the age where I need compliments,"
Mrs. Westinton said.
"You need compliments till the day you die."
Trevor countered. "Everyone needs a pat on the back
now and then."
"Well. I won't hear of it," she said. "And I don't
need to be treated like a disappointed child. I was a
fool to harbor any expectations and waste my energy." "You mean, you didn't do this dinner for me,
April, and Echo?" Trevor teased.
She gave him a look that could sink a battleship
and he roared with laughter.
"I have a madman on my property," she told
me.
Actually. I thought Mrs. Westington was more
depressed because of Echo's disappointment than
because of her own.
Such an elaborate and joyous family dinner as
the one Echo had envisioned with her mother present
was probably a dream. She nibbled on her food and
had to be continually pressed to eat more.
"I wish that girl wouldn't have come back,"
Mrs. Westington finally muttered. "She's only made
matters worse by giving the child hope.'
After dinner Mrs. Westington permitted Echo
to do more of the cleanup than usual. Trevor waited in
the living room to challenge Echo to a game of
checkers, something they often played in the evening.
She played, but she kept looking toward the windows,
hoping for headlights to indicate her mother's arrival.
It didn't happen and she finally grew tired enough to
go upstairs to bed. The sadness brought on fatigue as
well. Trevor and I looked at each other. Now that I
had the chance. I told him what I had witnessed in
Healdsburg.
"There's the distinct possibility they're gone,"
he whispered. "Run away."
"I hope so," I said. Looking at Echo's face. I felt
cruel for saying it, but every instinct in me told me
that I wasn't wrong to have that hope.
I followed Echo up because I saw in Mrs.
Westington's face that she would like me to do so to
be sure Echo didn't burst into tears and cry herself to
sleep. One of the most moving things I saw and
probably would ever see was when I stood off to the
side and watched Echo signing her bedtime prayer.
She did it slowly enough for me to understand she
was praying more for her mother than for herself. After she crawled into bed. I hung her dream
catcher and she smiled. Of course, she wanted to
know why her mother had not come home.
I explained that to be fair to her, she didn't
know her grandmother had made such a wonderful
dinner.
"If she had called, she would have known," she
correctly reminded me.
I nodded and, struggling for some excuse, came
up with the idea that she probably had met many of
her old friends again and wanted to renew her
friendships and catch up on the news. For now. Echo
accepted that. She gazed up at the dream catcher again
and closed her eyes with an expression of comfort and
self-assurance on her face. She hugged Mr. Panda.
too. I watched her for a while and then I went
downstairs. Trevor had zone to his own quarters. Mrs.
Westington was alone. She was listening to music and
knitting.
"I do it just to keep the arthritis at bay," she told
me. There was still a half hour to go before I would
meet Tyler at the motor home. so I sat with her. She
was quiet, but then she suddenly put the knitting down
and turned to me. "I know I'm not long for this world,