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I will not be able to talk to you or call you or even write to you again until I have completed my mission. It is painful for me to be away from the ones I love. I am doing it only because I love you all more than I love myself. My pain is nothing if it will buy happiness and health for my family.
I love you.
Ruby
I lowered my hands and gazed at Daddy. Hot tears were streaming freely down my cheeks and dripping from my chin.
He stared for a few moments and then sat back. "Well," he finally said, "there you have it. Just what I feared and suspected. Who knows where she's gone to or what she's going to do?"
"We've got to find her, Daddy, and bring her home."
"Find her," he said angrily. "Those people close around their own like clams. They won't talk to us; they won't tell us anything."
He reached for his nearly empty bottle of bourbon and poured himself another drink. "Maybe she'll come to her senses and call us or come home," he muttered.
"Daddy, we've got to call the police. She's not in her right mind after all this sadness and tragedy. They'll understand and they'll help us," I said.
He shook his head. "Waste of time."
"No, it isn't," I insisted. "I can't stand the thought of her under the influence of these people. If you don't call them, I will."
"What are you going to tell them? That your
mother wandered off to practice voodoo rituals someplace?" he asked disdainfully.
"Yes."
"They won't take you seriously, Pearl. They have a great many more urgent problems to deal with in this city."
"It's worth a try, Daddy."
He took a long gulp of bourbon.
"Daddy! You can't just sit there all day and night and drink yourself to sleep," I cried.
"She's gone, run off, returned to her bizarre past, and my son is dead," he said. "My little boy is gone. My other little boy is catatonic. What did I do to deserve this?"
"Stop this self-pity, Daddy. Mommy needs us."
He lowered his chin to his chest. I felt heat crawling up my spine. What had happened to Daddy and Mommy was terrible. No parent should endure such tragedy, but if Daddy didn't find a well of strength from which to draw new energy and determination, more terrible things loomed over us. Mommy had asked me to be strong. If that meant being cruel first, so be it, I thought.
"Is this the way you handle all your crises, Daddy?
You wallow in them?" I sneered. "Is this why you ran off to Europe when Mommy was pregnant with me?" He looked up sharply, knitting his brows as if a sharp pain had cut across his forehead, as if my words were tiny knives.
"No, I--"
"You left her alone to face the anger and the abuse. She gathered strength and returned to the bayou, and she managed to care for herself and for me while you were enjoying the most expensive restaurants and the wildest parties in Europe. Now, when she needs you again, you sit there gulping whiskey and moaning about what's happened to you."
"Pearl, please, that's not the way I was or the way I am," he argued.
"Then get a hold of yourself and let's go find her. Call the police," I demanded sharply, firing my words like bullets.
He nodded, sobering up quickly. "All right," he said. "Maybe you're right. We'll start with the police."
I straightened my shoulders and wiped away my tears with the back of my hand. "I'll look in on Pierre. We've got to find Mommy and bring her home for his sake most of all," I added. Daddy bit down on his lower lip and nodded. Pivoting on my heel, I marched out of the room and up the stairs quickly, so he wouldn't see how painful it was for me to treat him so harshly. I had to pause at the landing to catch my breath and slow my thumping heart.
Mrs. Hockingheimer was dozing in her chair in Pierre's room when I looked in on him. She heard me and looked up quickly.
