Getting Near to Baby by Audrey Couloumbis Page B

is inside when Liz comes. Liz sees me the moment she comes out from the shadow of the trees that line her driveway. She does not continue to look at me, though, as she comes across the street. There is something about that that bothers me. But when she comes to stand below and looks up at me, she has to squint into the sun.
    â€œMy momma would skin me alive if I did something like that,” Liz says.
    I don’t know what to say to this. It’s a surprise to hear her taking that scolding tone with me.
    â€œYour aunt Patty is worried sick. She called my momma and asked her what to do.”
    â€œMy aunt Patty,” I say, although there is no other, “called your momma?”
    â€œMy momma told her to call your momma, but she won’t do it.”
    â€œWhat else did your momma say?”
    Liz puts on the sternest of faces. “That you are bound to come down if it rains hard enough.”
    For some reason, this makes me grin. And after a moment Liz grins back.
    â€œI’m off to buy milk,” she says. “I’m not to offer you any encouragement.”
    â€œYou didn’t,” I say.
    She shakes her head then and says, almost sadly, “I never thought I would feel sorry for your aunt Patty.”
    Little Sister and I watch her until she is out of sight. Somehow Liz has made me feel bad for Aunt Patty She tries, I know she tries. Aunt Patty tries harder than anybody. I don’t know what I hoped to accomplish by climbing out here. I guess Aunt Patty thinks I did this to drive her crazy. Maybe even Liz thinks so. But I didn’t. I can’t say exactly why I stayed, either. It just felt like the place I wanted to be.
    One reason I’m out here, like I said, was to see the sun come up. In fact, when I went up to the attic and climbed up on a chair to push that dormer window open, I thought that was the only reason I was coming out here. It was awful quiet, not even the birds were making a sound. It was still real dark but with that hint of blue color that says the sun is coming on soon.
    Huddled out here by myself, watching the sky turn from darkest blue to deep purple, I started to remember this dream I had during the night. All I could remember was something about Baby and a curtain rising.
    And then Little Sister climbed out behind me. She hadn’t stopped to put on shorts and a shirt like I did. She was still wearing the frilly white cotton nightgown Aunt Patty bought for her. Little Sister looked like an angel as she rose to stand on the rooftop, the breeze pulling the nightgown and her long hair off to one side the way it did. I forgot to try to remember the dream.
    Little Sister crouched down and duck-waddled over to me, either because it made her stomach cramp to be up so high or because the breeze was cool, I don’t know which. But she didn’t act like she was cold. She sat down next to me and waited to see what would happen next, because that’s the way Little Sister is. I didn’t say anything, try to explain, nothing. It seemed wrong to disturb the quiet.
    The air was cool and silky on my skin, and the sky kept turning more and more purple. Then came just a hint of a pink so hot it might be orange. And then it was. An orange so full of fire it looked like the edge of the world had burst into flame. Little Sister’s hand crept into mine.
    I let myself look for as long as I could, although Mom always warned us not to. When I looked away, I could see seven burning suns coming up all around me. But I kept needing to look back. It was like my eyes were hungry for the sight of that brilliant light. Finally, when I couldn’t look straight on, I saw everything by looking off to the side. It was like watching something in a mirror.
    I know it doesn’t really happen this way, but it always looks as if the sun creeps up to stand teetering on the edge of the earth. I waited. It stayed there for long moments until I wondered, Is it stuck there.