Mama Dede made her entrance as the drums began. As before, she went to the settee and turned her gray eyes toward me.

"Why you come back to Mama, child?" she asked.

"I didn't want anything this terrible to happen," I cried. "Martin's dead and Gisselle is crippled."

"What you want to happen and what you don't want to happen don't make no difference to the wind. Once you throw your anger in the air, it can't be pulled back."

"It's my fault," I moaned. "I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't have asked you to do something."

"You came here because you were meant to come here. Zombi bring you to me to do what must be done. You didn't cast the first stone, child. Papa La Bas, he find an open door into your sister's heart and curled himself up comfortable. She let him cast the stones with her name on it, not you."

"Isn't there anything we can do to help her now?" I pleaded.

"When she drive Papa La Bas from her heart completely, you come back and Mama see what Zombi want to do. Not until then," she said with finality.

"I feel terrible," I said, lowering my head. "Please, find a way to help us."

"Give me your hand, child," Mama Dede said. I looked up and gave her my hand. She held it firmly, hers feeling warmer and warmer.

"This all is meant to be, child," she said. "You were brought here by the wind Zombi sent. You want to help your sister now, make her a better person, drive the devil from her heart?"

"Yes," I said.

"Don't be afraid," she said, and pulled my hand slowly toward the box. I looked desperately at Nina who simply closed her eyes and began to rock, mumbling some chant under her breath. "Don't be afraid," Mama Dede repeated, and opened the top of the box. "Now you reach down and take out your sister's ribbon. Take it back and nothing more be happening than has."

I hesitated. Reach into a box that contained a snake? I knew pythons weren't poisonous, but still . . .

Mama Dede released me and sat back, waiting. I thought about Daddy, the sadness in his eyes, the weight on his shoulders and slowly, with my eyes closed, I lowered my hand into the box. My fingers nudged the cold, scaly skin of the sleeping serpent. It began to squirm, but I continued moving my fingers around frantically until I felt the ribbon. Quickly, I seized it and pulled my hand out.

"Be praised," Nina said."

"That ribbon," Mama Dede said. "It's been to the other world and back. You keep it precious, as precious as Rosary beads, and maybe someday, you'll make your sister better." She stood up and turned toward Nina. "Go light me a candle at Marie Laveates grave."

Nina nodded.

"I'll do that, Mama."

"Child," she said, turning back to me, "the good and the bad, they are sisters, too. Sometimes they twist around each other like strands of rope and make knots in our hearts. Unravel the knots in your own heart first; then help your sister unravel hers."

She turned and walked out through the curtain. The drums got louder.

"Let's go home," Nina said. "Now there's much to do."

When we returned, things hadn't changed very much, except that Edgar had added another dozen or so names to the list of those who had called. Daphne was still resting in her suite and Daddy was still in Uncle Jean's room. But suddenly, a little while later, Daphne emerged looking refreshed and elegant, ready to greet those good friends who were coming to console her and Daddy. She got him to come down to have a little dinner.

I sat quietly and listened while Daphne lectured him firmly about getting himself together.

"This isn't the time to fall apart, Pierre. We have some terrible burdens now and I don't intend to carry them on my shoulders alone the way I've been carrying so many other things," she said. He nodded obediently, looking like a little boy again. "Get a hold of yourself," she ordered. "We have people to greet later and I don't want to add anything to the embarrassment we already have to endure."

"Shouldn't we worry more about Gisselle's condition than how it's all embarrassing us?" I said sharply, unable to contain my anger. I hated the way she spoke down to Daddy, who was already weak and defeated.

"How dare you speak to me that way," she snapped, pulling herself up in the chair.

"I don't mean to be insolent, but—"

"My advice to you, young lady, is to walk the straightest, most narrow line you can these next few weeks. Gisselle hasn't been the same since your arrival and I'm sure the bad things you've done and influenced her to do had something to do with what's happened now."

"That's not true! None of that is true!" I cried. I looked at Daddy.

"Let's not bicker amongst ourselves," he pleaded. He turned to me with his eyes bloodshot from hours and hours of sorrowful crying. "Not now. Please, Ruby. Just listen to your mother." He gazed at Daphne. "At times like this, she is the strongest member of our family. She's always been," he said in a tired, defeated voice.

Daphne beamed with pride and satisfaction. For the remainder of our short meal, we all ate in silence. Later that evening, the Andreas did arrive but without Beau. Other friends followed. I retreated to my room and prayed that God would forgive me for the vengeance I had sought. Then I went to sleep, but for endless hours, I dwelled fitfully on the rim of sleep, never finding the peaceful oblivion I desperately sought.

An odd thing happened to me at school the next day. The drama and impact of the horrible automobile accident put the entire student body into a state of mourning. Everyone was subdued. Girls who knew Martin well were in tears, comforting each other in the hallways and bathrooms. Dr. Storm got on the public address system and offered prayers and condolences. Our teachers made us do busywork, many unable to carry on as usual and sensitive to the fact that the students weren't with it either.

But the odd thing was I became someone to console and not be ignored or despised. Student after student came up to me to talk and express his or her hope everything would turn out well for Gisselle. Even her good friends, Claudine and Antoinette especially, sought my company and seemed repentant for the pranks and the nasty things they had done and said about me.

Most of all, Beau was at my side. He was a great source of comfort. As one of Martin's best friends, he was the one the other boys came to when they wanted to express their sorrow. At lunch, most of the other students gathered around us, everyone speaking in soft, subdued voices.

After school, Beau and I went directly to the hospital and found Daddy having a cup of coffee in the lounge. He had just met with the specialists.

"Her spine was damaged. It's left her paralyzed from the waist down. All of the other injuries will heal well," he said.

"Is there any possibility she'll be able to walk?" Beau asked softly.

Daddy shook his head. "Most unlikely. She's going to need lots of therapy, and lots of tender loving care," he said. "I'm arranging for a live-in nurse for a while after she comes home."

"When can we see her, Daddy?" I asked.

"She's still in intensive care. Only immediate family can see her," he said, looking at Beau. Beau nodded.

I started for the intensive care room.

"Ruby," Daddy called. I turned. "She doesn't know about Martin," he said. "She thinks he's just badly injured. I didn't want to tell her yet. She's had enough bad news."

"Okay, Daddy," I said, and entered. The nurse showed me to Gisselle's bed. The sight of her lying there, her face all banged up and the IV tubes in her arm made my heart ache. I swallowed back my tears and approached. She opened her eyes and looked up at me.

"How are you, Gisselle?" I asked softly.

"How do I look?" She smirked and turned away. Then she turned back. "I guess you're happy you didn't get into the car with us. I guess you want to say, I told you so, huh?"

"No," I said. "I'm sorry this happened. I feel just terrible about it."

"Why? Now no one will wonder which one of us is you and which one is me. I'm the one who can't walk. That's easy to tell," she said. "I'm the one who can't walk." Her chin quivered.

"Oh, Gisselle, you'll walk again. I'll do everything I can to help you," I promised.

"What can you do . . . mumble some Cajun prayer over my legs? The doctors were here; they told me the ugly truth."

"You can't give up hope. Never give up hope. That's what . . ." I was going to say, that's what Grandmère Catherine taught me, but I hesitated.

"Easy for you to say. You walked in here and you'll walk out," she moaned. Then she took a deep breath and sighed. "Have you seen Martin? How's he doing?"

"No, I haven't seen him. I came right to see you," I said and bit down on my lower lip.

"I remember telling him he was going too fast, but he thought it was funny. Just like you, he thought everything was funny all of a sudden. I bet he's not laughing now. You go see him,"" she said. "And be sure he knows what's happened to me. Will you go?"

I nodded.

"Good. I hope he feels terrible; I hope . . . oh, what's the difference what I hope?" She gazed up at me. "You're happy this happened to me, aren't you?"

"No. I never wanted this much. I . . ."

"What do you mean, 'this much'? You wanted some-thing?" She studied my face a moment. "Well?"

"Yes," I said. "I admit it. You were so mean to me, got me into so much trouble and did so many bad things to me, I went to see a voodoo queen."

"What?"

"But she told me it wasn't my fault. It was yours because you had so much hate in your heart," I added quickly.

"I don't care what she said. I'll tell Daddy what you did and he'll hate you forever. Maybe now he'll send you back to the swamps."