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"That's why we need the instructor as soon as possible, too. I think once he sees this studio, he'll be encouraged to take you on as one of his pupils. Not that he shouldn't by just looking at your painting anyway." He beamed his smile down at me.
"Thank you . . Daddy," I said. His smile widened.
"I like hearing that," he said. "I hoped you felt welcomed."
"Oh, yes, I do. Overwhelmed."
"And happy?"
"Very happy," I said. I stood on my toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. His eyes brightened even more.
"Well," he said. "Well . ." His eyes watered. "I guess I'll go see what Daphne is up to. Enjoy your studio and paint wonderful pictures here," he added, and walked off.
I stood there in awe of it all for a few moments. The room had a nice view of the sprawling oak trees and garden. It faced west so I could paint the sun on the final leg of its journey. Twilight was always magnificent for me in the bayou. I had high hopes that it would be just as magnificent here as well, for I believed that the things I carried in my heart and in my soul would be with me no matter where I was, where I lived, and what I looked at through my windows. My pictures were inside me, just waiting to be brought out.
After what I thought was only a short while later, I left the studio and hurried up to Gisselle's room. I knocked on the door.
"Well, it's about time," she said, pulling me in quickly and closing the door. "We don't have all that much time to plan. The boys will be here in twenty minutes."
"I don't think I can do this, Gisselle," I moaned.
"Of course you can," she said. "We'll be sitting around the table at the pool when they arrive. We'll have bottles of Coke and glasses for everyone, with ice. As soon as they approach, you introduce me to Martin. Just say I want you to meet my sister, Ruby. Then, you'll take this out from under the table and pour globs of it into the Coke," she said, and plucked a bottle of rum out of a straw basket. "Make sure you pour at least this much into every glass," she added, holding up her thumb and forefinger a good two inches apart. "Once Beau sees you do that, he'll be convinced you're me," she quipped.
"Then what?"
"Then. . . whatever happens, happens. What's the matter?" she snapped, pulling herself back. "Don't you want to pretend you're me?"
"It's not that I don't want to," I said.
"So? What is it?"
"I just don't think I can be you," I said.
"Why not?" she demanded, her eyes darkening and her eyelids narrowing into slits of anger.
"I don't know enough," I replied. That pleased her and she relaxed her shoulders.
"Just don't talk much. Drink and whenever Beau says something, nod and smile. I know I can be you," she added. And then in a voice that was supposed to be imitative, she said, "I just can
't believe I'm here. The food is s000 good, the house is s000 big and I'm sleepin' in a real bed without mosquitos and mud."
She laughed. Was I really like that in her eyes?
"Stop being so serious," she demanded when I didn't laugh at her mockery of me. She dropped the bottle of rum into the basket. "Come on," she said, picking it up and seizing my hand. "Let's go tease some stuck-up Creole boys until they beg for mercy."
Trailing along like a kite on a string, I followed my sister out and down the stairs, my heart thumping, my mind in a turmoil. I had never had a day packed with so much excitement. I couldn't begin to imagine what the night would bring.
14
Someone's Crying
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"We'll sit over there," Gisselle said, and pointed
to lounges on the far end of the pool, near the cabana. It put us far enough away from the outside lights to keep us draped in soft shadows. It was a warm night, as warm as it would be on the bayou, only tonight without the cool breeze that would come up the canals from the Gulf. The sky was overcast; it even felt like it might rain.
Gisselle put the basket with the bottle of rum on the table and I put down the bucket of ice, the Coke, and the glasses. To bolster our courage for Gisselle's prank, she decided we should mix the rum in our Coke before the boys arrived. She did the pouring and it seemed to me she made each drink more rum than Coke. I tried to warn her about the effects of whiskey. After all, I knew about it from painful experiences.
