Eventually, I got hungry and went to the kitchen to make myself the same breakfast I’d given Helen.
I was caught off guard by the sight of Sammy sitting at our kitchen table with a cup of tea and a grin like a present.
“Oh, Annie, dear,” said Mama. “Good morning, sleepyhead. We’ve been waiting.” She leaned in close and whispered, “Eyeball,” as if she were kissing my cheek. I had forgotten, in the surprise of seeing Sammy, that I was an idiot. Sammy hopped up, tipping half his tea into the saucer in his eagerness. Oh, what was Mama up to now? Hadn’t I just resolved No more? But here I was, smack in the path of an unavoidable collision!
“We’re going out for a walk, darling.” Mama spoke carefully to her moronic daughter.
What?
“Why, Mama?” I used a softer version of my dreadful hoot.
“You and me and your little friend, Sam.”
Coat, hat, gloves; they dressed me as if I were a child. The nearly sleepless night was catching up with me. My eyelids felt gravelly, my ears full of fog. Sammy took my hand, gently, like a trainer with a performing bear. I couldn’t understand how he’d gotten there, or why he was happy, or where they were taking me. And even though I had just decided never to be instructed by Mama again, I went along because of Sammy. Mama had selected good bait.
Closing my eyes while we walked was easier than jiggling my eyeball. from Needle Street to Picker’s Lane, onto Main Street and across the square, I glanced down at the curbs, but otherwise I floated, guided by firm hands.
“Here she is!”
“She’s here, look, she’s coming!”
My eyes flew open at the shouts, and my legs froze to the spot. I jerked my hand from Sammy’s and pulled free of Mama’s hold. The steps of St. Alphonse were crowded with people, and as I stared, I realized they were mostly people I knew.
It was the hour of morning traffic, with children gathering before school, people pausing on their way to factories and shops and offices.
“No!” I shook my head in a frenzy of protest.
“Thank you, Sam,” said Mama quickly. “You go on ahead. We’ll be there in just another minute. Oh! And pass out the rest of these!” She handed him a sheaf of papers, artfully announcing the morning’s event: SEE THE IDIOT RESTORED TO REASON!
“He’s a sweet boy,” she said vaguely, watching Sammy dash off at her command.
“What are you thinking?” I wailed. “I told you no! I said I would not participate in a public healing! I am finished, Mama, done! I will not perform another humiliating pantomime. Why can’t you hear me?”
“We don’t have to make threats or promises about the future,” said Mama, too calmly. “All we need right now is one small miracle in front of an excited audience. You can do that much for me, can’t you, Annie?”
My voice sighed out like air from a bicycle tire. “No, Mama. I can’t do that. I’ve made a vow not to lie anymore, not to trick people or be a sham.”
She laughed, sharply. “Annie, this is not the time. The audience is waiting.”
I didn’t move.
“Your disloyalty is making me very angry, Annie.”
I didn’t blink.
She pursed her lips and tried again. “I need you to assist me, darling.… If you do not go up those stairs and perform that marvelous twitching seizure of yours, I will be compromised beyond repair. What would become of us then? You’re too smart for such silliness, Annie. With that brute of a police officer standing there, you know enough not to put us in danger. So let’s just get this over with, shall we? They’re becoming impatient.”
“I’m sorry, Mama. But I can’t. I won’t. I’m going to tell them the truth and face whatever consequences come our way.”
“I can’t go to prison again, Annie. I’ve never hurt anyone. I do not kill or steal or even cheat, not really. I do my best to comfort people. I give them something to look forward to. Everyone who comes through my door goes back out with a spark of hope.”
“Everyone except me, Mama,” I whispered. “You never comfort me.”
“Oh, Annie.”
She reached out to put her hands on my shoulders, but I stepped back. It was too late.
“Annie,” she whispered. “Look at all the people waiting. They’ve come because they believe in me, in both of us. They want the best for you, they want you cured. Can’t you give them that?”
I looked toward the crowd to see Sammy waving, urging us on. I knew I had to tell him the truth, but maybe not in front of the whole town. I felt my body relent before my mind had agreed. Mama seized the moment and hurried me along while she could. Sammy, like a little boy with a new wagon, came bounding over to help. I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t like holding his hand, because it was under Mama’s command.
It seemed that half the population of Peach Hill was gathered outside the old church. They shifted to let us through, but I felt hands patting me, grabbing, rubbing, poking the about-to-be miracle girl.
I squeezed my eyes tight shut to prevent any chance of tears. My toe hit the granite step and I stumbled as Sammy and Mama pulled me upward. I should just collapse, go into a keening fit and be done!
But we’d arrived at the top.
“How I have prayed!” cried Mama at once, not waiting to risk another rebellion. Sammy was still holding my arm, but she waved him off.
“I have not stopped praying.” Mama’s clear voice rang out like the church bell itself. She stood behind me with her hands on my shoulders. “All night and all day and all night again, since this new affliction befell my dearest girl.”
She was doing something with her fingers around my head, not touching but making my scalp itch from the fluttering breeze.
“I am calling on the guardian spirits,” said Mama, “who mind us here on the earthly plain. I am pleading for the bright light of my child’s smile to be restored to us. Can we all do together what I once did alone?”
There was a ripple of noise, not quite a chorus, but friendly. Mama carried on, beginning to hum now. Sammy waved his arms, urging everyone to join her.
I saw Peg arrive at the back of the crowd, out to do her marketing. She waved and blew me a kiss. Mr. Poole stood by the church railing, his head bowed while he spoke to a man in a battered fedora. I felt a cold lump in my throat. Mr. Poole was the reason I was standing there like an idiot. When he moved, pointing up at Mama and me, I realized that the other fellow had a big camera slung around his neck on a strap.
I glanced back at Mama to see her arms outstretched and her face tipped up to the pale autumn sun, as if receiving a blessing from the Other Side.
Pop! A small flash as the first photograph was taken.
“No!” I shouted. Pop! “No!”
Mr. Poole had chosen exactly the wrong method of winning us over. Mama looked at me in panic.
“Go, Mama,” I said. “Go, now!” She reached out to me, but I was already lunging toward the photographer. People scattered, thinking I was a charging lunatic. Pop!
“No pictures!” I yelled, and then tripped, flailing for balance on the stone stairs. The audience gasped, but no one moved quickly enough. I teetered and fell, meeting the ground with a terrible whack!
Did I imagine an instant of vibrating silence, or was it real? The pain was real, attacking the same ankle as before and cutting like a cold knife through my forehead. I curled up as tightly as I could and lay on my side, wishing to be anywhere other than there—thinking, this is absolutely the last time, if I live to be ninety-seven, that I huddle on the ground for the benefit of someone else.
“Are you all right, Annie?” Sammy was on his knees next to me.
“Where’s Mama?” I said. Did she get away?
“Over there.” He pointed in the direction of Picker’s Lane and Needle Street. “She’s moving pretty fast for an older woman.”
“Let me in, that’s my girl lying there.” Peg pushed her way through, never minding the toes her whopping shoes were treading on. She crouched down, ready to cluck and coo. But one look at her dear, bony nose and springy hair, and I made up my mind.
“I’m all right, Peg! Better than all right!”
Her smile was big enough to have me laughing out loud.
“It worked!” Sammy stood up and shouted to the world.
“Annie is healed! The idiot is gone!”
With Sammy and Peg each under one elbow, I was scooped up from the cobbles, head and ankle howling. The audience cheered. But it wasn’t over yet. This was only the first act.
“Wait here,” I said to Sammy. “Annie loves Peg,” I said to Peg. I limped to the top step and turned to face the crowd.
“Thank you,” I said, looking out across the square. Mama’s red coat flashed like an ember before she vanished. There was no sign of Mr. Poole or the photographer.
But Sammy was there, and Peg. I focused slowly on the other faces surrounding me. Clusters of schoolchildren and high schoolers; Lexie, Jean and Ruthie, with her mouth wide open; Sally and Delia, who looked more curious than hostile; Frankie Romero, next to his mother. The Peach Hill police department was watching from the sidelines. There were a dozen ladies or more who had spent time in our front room, including Miss Weather and Mildred, who had finally said farewell to her husband at Mr. Poole’s party. Mrs. Peers gave me a happy little wave from the front row.
“Thank you for coming here today. I have a confession to make.”
“That’s inside the church!” somebody called out.
I waited until the laughter faded. “Or perhaps not a confession exactly, but an explanation.”
So many of these people had told us secrets, and in return we had told them lies. But they didn’t know that. As far as they knew, we’d given hope and sympathy and maybe even wisdom. Would they despair if they were told the truth now? Mildred had been so grateful on Saturday, believing that Edmund’s spirit was watching over her. How could I say for certain that he wasn’t? Wouldn’t it be cruel of me to announce to a grieving woman—to a dozen grieving women—that it had all been a trick?
“My mother has struggled to bring out the best in me,” I said, “like most mothers, I guess.”
If I destroyed Mama … I would rip apart the trust of all these other neighbors and customers.
But I wouldn’t tell another lie.
“Mama knew … that hiding somewhere was the child she longed for me to be. She did her best to reveal my true nature. Her powers have been put to.… a remarkable test.” Almost over. “In our case, the obstacle was … was greater than most. Now that she has released me, my mother will need to recover for an extended time. She will not be accepting clients for … for the foreseeable future.”
“What about you?” Mrs. Peers called out. “You do a bang-up job yourself.”
“I don’t think … well, that I’ve inherited the right traits from my mother, whatever it is that inspires her to do this work,” I said. “For now, I plan to be an ordinary girl. Thank you.” I waved. “My head hurts! I have to sit down. Thank you. Good-bye.”
There. Every word I’d said was true, without quite telling the true story.
Most of the kids had hightailed it off even before I’d finished talking; the drama was over, as far as they were concerned. I was just odd Annie Grackle; they were late for school, and Mrs. Newman was circling the crowd.
“Annie.” She cupped my face in her gloved hands and inspected me. “That’s a nasty bump you’ve got! You look like a hoodlum! Though not as roughed up as Helen. Annie, your friend Helen has disappeared. You must tell me where she is. She shouldn’t be running about by herself. She was terribly hurt.”
“She’s gone, ma’am. There’s nothing we can do anymore.”
“Gone? Gone where?”
“Just gone,” I said. “She went on the train, but I don’t know which way.” It hurt to say it out loud.
Mrs. Newman sighed, as if she’d lost something too. “And what about you? That was a brave act just now, Annie Grey. It takes a great deal of courage to choose your own road.”
“Mmmm,” I said. “I don’t think I’ll get to school today, Mrs. Newman.”
Her eyebrow rose.
“But I’ll be there from now on.”
“Good girl.”
Peg decided it was the right time to interrupt. “Let’s get you home, missy, put some ice on that head.”
Did Peg realize what I’d been saying up there on the steps? If so, she didn’t let on. But I knew that if I arrived on Needle Street with Peg, Mama would be in a poisonous temper. “Peg, Mr. Poole must have hired that photographer without realizing that Mama hates to have her picture taken. She’s likely to be hopping mad. I don’t think you should come right now.”
“She’s not going to make your head feel right the way I will,” said Peg.
“I know, but also?” I pulled her close, to speak into her ear, and her curls tickled my nose. “This boy, Sammy, said he’d walk me home. I’d kind of like …” I left it dangling.
“Off you go, honey,” said Peg, with a sly grin. “But you promise me you’ll put an ice pack on your head? And I’m coming over there first thing in the morning, come hell or high water.”
Probably both, I thought.
“That,” said Sammy, “was the most astounding phenomenon I’ll probably witness until I die, of course, and see the gates of Heaven.”
“Sammy.” I turned to face him. “I wish I—”
“You got healed, didn’t you? Before our very eyes.”
“Sammy. It wasn’t Mama praying or calling on spirits. It wasn’t falling down the stairs and giving myself a royal goose egg.” I looked into his eyes. “Sammy, here’s the truth. My mother and I—”
“Don’t say it,” said Sammy, shaking his head, closing his dear eyes. “You’re going to tell me something I don’t want to know.”
“Yes, I am.” I wished it were dark so we could kiss again. I was sure we were about to say good-bye. How awkward it would be to kiss in daylight! Maybe that was why people closed their eyes to kiss—to create their own night.
Sammy was waiting.