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"Like being a husband and a father was a nineto-five job," she complained. "But being a mother and a wife was a twenty-four-hour, seven-day-a-week job. That's the way the Landry men see it.
"Before you marry anyone, Gabriel, you ask to see his grandpere, and if his grandmere's still living, you talk to her and get the lowdown, hear?" she warned.
"Yes, Mama." She finally took note of me, but she attributed other reasons to my appearance.
"Look at you," she remarked, "nervous as a just-hatched chicken with your graduation just a day away now."
"I'm fine, Mama."
"I can't wait to see them hand you that diploma."
She beamed, her smile washing away her scarlet face of anger.
"You're the first Landry to get a high school diploma, you know that?" she asked. Daddy hadn't told me, but she had said it a few times before in his presence when she blamed some of the things he had done on his family blood.
"Yes, Mama."
"Good. Then be proud, not nervous. Well now, we'll have to plan a little celebration for afterward, won't we?"
"No, Mama. I don't want a party."
"Sure you do. Sure," she said, nodding and talking herself into it. "I'm going to make a couple of turkeys, and I think I'll make Louisiana yam with apple stuffing. I know how you love that. Of course, we'll have some stuffed crab and some shrimp Mornay with red and green rice. I'll make some garlic grits. need some biscuits, and let's see, for desserts we should have a gingerbread, one of my coffee cakes, and maybe some caramel squares."
"Mama, you'll be working all day and night until graduation."
"So? How often will I have a graduation party for my daughter?" she said.
"But we don't have the money, do we?"
"I got a small stash your daddy didn't get his hands on," she said, winking.
"You should save it for something important, Mama."
"This is is important," she insisted. "Now hush up and go to school. Go on," she said, pushing me toward the door, "and don't you worry about how hard I work or how much I spend. I got to do what I enjoy doing and what makes me happy and proud. Especially these days," she added, scowling with thoughts of Daddy.
I shook my head. There wasn't anything I could do or say to change her mind once Mama had made up what she wanted to do. Daddy called her Cajun stubborn and said she would stare down a hurricane if she had made up her mind to do so.
"I'll come home as soon as I can to help you then," I said.
"Never mind. You do what all the girls are doing and worry about your graduation ceremony, not me," she said.
I left the house, still feeling a cloud overhead because of what had happened to me the day before; but also feeling the excitement that came with the end of school. At school no one talked about anything else. The chatter in the classroom was so loud and furious, we sounded like a yard of hens clucking. Our teachers gave up on doing anything that even vaguely resembled education.
In the afternoon they took us out to the yard on the side of the building where a portable stage had been constructed so we could rehearse the graduation ceremony. A piano had been wheeled out for Mrs. Parlange, the school secretary, to play the
processional. Our principal, Mr. Pitot, was going to accompany her on the accordion, too. Together with Mr. Ternant, who was the vocal, physical education, and math teacher, and who played the fiddle, Mr. Pitot would do a few Cajun pieces to entertain the audience of grandparents, parents, brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts, and friends before the speeches and the distribution of diplomas. Mr. Ternant was put in charge of the ceremony and lined us up according to height. He told us how to walk, hold our heads up high, and sit properly on the stage.
"I don't want to see anyone crossing his or her legs. And no gum chewing, hear? You all sit still, face forward, and look dignified. Every one of you is a representative of this school," he lectured. Bobby Slater made a popping sound with his mouth. Many of us smiled, but no one dared laugh. Mr. Temant glared fiercely for a moment. Then he explained what we had to do when we were called up.
"I want you to take the diploma in this hand"-- he demonstrated--"and cross over to shake like this."
He wanted us to then turn to the audience and make a small bow before returning directly to our seats.
I tried to concentrate on everything and listen carefully to all the instructions, but my mind kept wandering and returning to the incident at the lake. Yvette and Evelyn were too occupied with themselves and with their other friends to notice my distraction. I knew anyone who did notice me just thought it was my typical disinterest in things that interested them. It wasn't so. I wanted to be just as excited; I wanted to be just as young and silly and happy as they were. But every once in a while, Mr. Tate's face, just inches from mine, would flash across my eyes and I would gulp and moan softly to myself.
I was very quiet on the way home; however, Yvette and Evelyn were far more talkative than ever. A twilight gloom had pervaded my entire being, but even if I had wanted to talk, they didn't give me an opportunity to get in a word. It wasn't until we were about to part that they noticed me.
"What's wrong with you today?" Yvette asked. "Graduation jitters?"
