“I’ll let Laurette know you’re here,” said Marion.

“She knows. I arrived an hour ago.”

Marion could think of nothing to say to this. Uncle Gregoire was looking at her with his mild brown eyes, his lips curved into his usual smile, but there was something tense, something rigidly controlled about his expression. The air seemed thicker around him. There was even a faint fluttering in her ears.

She preceded Gregoire down the hall towards his brother’s room, struggling to understand how Gregoire had gotten to the island from California within an hour or two of Laurette calling him.

Telesphore was no longer in bed, but in a chair. “You are up, Brother,” said Gregoire. “I hope that means you feel better.”

“There is so much to do…” Telesphore began.

“We have already spoken of this,” said Laurette. She looked at Gregoire, but spoke to Marion, “Cherie, would you please sit with my brother for awhile, and make sure he does not over-exert himself? Felicia will join you soon. I would like to speak with Gregoire in private.” Laurette’s eyes were cool when they met Gregoire’s, and Marion thought the man looked uncomfortable.

The two of them walked out. Papa Duday let out a long, shaky sigh. “They will quarrel,” he said sadly.

“But why?”

“Laurette has a tiger’s heart, and my poor brother has hidden too many of my sins from her.”

Before Marion could ask him another question, Felicia came in. “Now then,” she said, bending to kiss her husband. “You’re at least a bit vertical. And your color is better. Looks like that soup Laurette gave you set you up fine.”

“Have you phoned Pere Quitol yet about the funeral?”

“Tel, I’ve already said all I’m going to say about that. Now…” she looked at Marion. “There’s a chess table over in that corner of the room. Could you fetch it? I think a nice game will take all our minds off of our troubles for a bit.” She looked at Tel. “I’ll play the first game with you, then Marion. See how you fare against the ladies.”

They sat together in silence for a few minutes. Greg looked around the parlor in the waning light. Once it had been a library. He’d liked it better then, but perhaps it was for the best that all traces were gone, the books removed, the room modernized, remodeled.

If it looked as it had when he and Felda met, it might be unbearable.

“You knew,” said Laurette finally.

“Yes.”

“You lied to me.”

“No, Laurette, I never did that.”

“A lie of omission is still a lie. That storm you raised years ago. That lightning. It was not to destroy the book at all, was it? Madame Abbot would not keep it in her desk at the Town Hall. Your aim was not bad. How could I ever have imagined it was? Have you ever, in your life, misfired a spell? Oh no, it was perfect, as usual. You deliberately destroyed town records to hide the names of… of however it was our brother eradicated.”

“I never said…”

“Of course not. You never ‘say.’ You’ve always let your brother lie to me for you. No doubt you knew what he’d done from the beginning, from the day he did it.”

“You may not believe me, Laurette, but I didn’t know about it, not for sure, not until that night, when he told me on Swede’s Hill.”

“Laurette… Sister…please. You can’t turn your back on him. Not now. He’s already been punished. He’s our brother and he is suffering.”

“I wish I could suffer that way for a bit” she said. “Weeping for my nephew would be some solace, but I can’t even remember him. I can’t feel anything but despair. This is of Tel’s making, Gregoire. He and he alone is responsible.”

Laurette stood, her eyes Gregoire. He knew that look. He’d seen it all through childhood. It meant that she was about to take him by the arm and haul him to where she wanted him to go, whether it was school, Dr. Teach, or the tin bath in the kitchen she’d filled with steaming water.

“He is damned,” she said.

He could not follow her there. Greg was on his feet.

“And who led him into this damnation? You know as well as I do, Sister. Has he ever in his life been able to say no to her?”

“Gregoire Alphonse Duday, Don’t you dare blame our mother for this!”

“But Laurette, I do blame her. You know as well as I do Tel would never have committed such an act on his own. And if we concealed things from you it’s because you’ve never, in your life, been willing to hear anything bad about her, in spite of the way she treated you, you’ve never been willing to face the fact that…”

“I won’t hear this! You hid from me that our brother had committed the profound crime! How can you justify this? There is no justification, and now you point at our mother and attempt to throw Tel’s crime upon her! It is disgusting!”

“Oh for the love of God, It is a fact!” he was trying to keep from shouting, but it was hard.

“Deceit!” she exclaimed. “Deceit and lies and concealment…”

“Yes, Laurette, people like us lie, we all lie. That is what we do, because that is what we have to do. You’re no different. Tell me, sister — I don’t notice your husband hanging around. That good man who’s usually the first to offer solace to the bereaved? Where is the reverend? I know you’ve told him about us, but have you told him about this? Are Tel and I the only people in the family who’ve hidden things from someone we loved?”

“He will know about this! I will tell him when I feel ready to tell him!”

Gregoire laughed.

What was that? Something in the walls. A long, continuous growl? A powerful motor somewhere under the house? Felicia and Tel were setting up another game, their eyes on the chessboard, apparently oblivious.

“When you feel ready! Oh, yes, Laurette, that’s a familiar thought. Believe me, I know it well.”

“What did you say to him? My brother has a wee cold? Tel has the sniffles and I must run over and brew some tea?”

Suddenly, he stopped as though something had occured to him. “What have you told Marion?”

Laurette could only look at him her face frozen.

“About us?” he asked.

“About Leon?”

“NOTHING?”

Yes, she was sure of it now, a deep, rumbling vibration that made the walls shiver.

It was as if thunder were beginning to roll downstairs.