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"I'll be visiting Jean on Wednesday," Daddy said. "I'm sure he'll be interested to hear all about you. And Gisselle, of course."
"Tell himI'll write to him," I said. "I will, too. I'll write long letters describing everything. Will you tell him?"
"Of course. I will visit you too," Daddy promised. I knew he felt guilty about sending Gisselle and me off to this private school because he had made that promise to visit at least a dozen times during the last week.
Edgar returned with my croissant and coffee. Daddy began reading his paper again. I started to sip my coffee and nibble on my croissant, but my stomach felt as if it had a sac au lait fish swimming in it, tickling my insides with its tail. A few moments later, we heard the whir of the electric chair that brought Gisselle down the stairs. As usual, she moaned and groaned as she descended.
"It moves so slowly. Why doesn't Edgar just come up and carry me down? Or Daddy? Someone should be hired just for that. I feel so stupid. Wendy, did you hear what I said? Stop pretending you didn't hear."
Daddy lowered his paper and gazed at me as he shook his head.
"I'd better go help her," Daddy said. He got up and went to help Wendy shift Gisselle from the stairway chair to the wheelchair on the bottom floor.
Nina came bursting out of the kitchen and stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips, glaring at me.
"Good morning, Nina," I said.
"What kind of 'good morning' is it? You don't eat what Nina has prepared. It be a trip to Baton Rouge and you need your strength, hear? I got hot grits. I got eggs beat just the way you like."
"I guess I'm too nervous, Nina. Please don't be angry," I said.
She lowered her hands from her hips and pressed her lips together as she shook her head. "Nina don't get angry at you." She thought a moment and then approached, taking something out of her pocket. "I be giving you this before I forget," she said, and handed me a dime with a hole and a string through the hole.
"What's this?"
"You wear this around your left ankle, you hear, and no bad spirits come after you. Go on, put it around your ankle," she ordered. I glanced back at the doorway to be sure no one was looking and quickly did as she commanded. She looked relieved.
"Thank you, Nina."
"Bad spirits always hovering around this house. Got to be vigilant," she said, and went back into the kitchen. I wasn't one to doubt charms and talismans, superstitions and rituals. My Grandmere Catherine had been one of the bayou's most respected traiteurs, a treater who could drive away evil spirits and cure people of various ailments. She had even helped wives unable to get pregnant to get pregnant. Everyone in the bayou, including our priest, had deep respect for Grandmere. In the Cajun world from which I had come, various voodoo and other religious beliefs were often married to produce a view of the world that was more reassuring.
"I don't like this skirt," I heard Gisselle complain as Daddy wheeled her into the dining room. "It's too long and it feels like I have a sheet over my legs. You picked it out just because you think my legs are ugly now, didn't you?" she accused.
"It's the one you agreed to wear when we picked out your clothes last night," I reminded her.
"Last night I just wanted to get it over with and get you out of my face," she retorted.
"What would you like for breakfast, honey?" Daddy asked her.
"A glass of arsenic," she replied.
He smirked. "Gisselle, why make things harder than they have to be?"
"Because I hate being a cripple and I hate the idea of being carted up to this school where I don't know a soul," she said. Daddy sighed and looked at me.
"Gisselle, just eat something so we can get started. Please," I begged.
"I'm not hungry." She pouted a moment and then wheeled herself up to the table.
"What are you having?I'll have that too," she told Edgar. He lifted his eyes to the ceiling and then went to the kitchen.
As soon as we'd had our breakfast, Daddy went to see about all the luggage. It took Edgar and one of the grounds workers four trips to bring down everything. Gisselle had three trunks, two cartons, three bags, and her record player. I had one suitcase. Because Gisselle insisted on taking so much, Daddy had to hire someone to follow us in the van.
As I was wheeling Gisselle out to the galerie, where we could watch the loading of the vehicles, Daphne appeared at the top of the stairway. She called to us and took a few steps down. She had her pale reddish blond hair pinned up, and she wore a red Chinese robe and slippers.
"Before you go," she said, "I want to warn the both of you to be on your best behavior. Just because you're going a considerable distance away, it doesn't mean you're free to act and say whatever you like. You must remember you are Dumases and what you do always reflects on the family name and
reputation."
