Free Texas Born by Judith Gould Page B

away, leaving a
murky, trailing pattern that Elizabeth-Anne's imagination took for
other, more horrible things: thorns and nettles and monsters and
snakes.
    She had tried desperately to communicate to
Auntie how much the storeroom frightened her, but the words had
never come. She had opened her mouth and struggled to form them,
feeling the effort in her throat.
    The only sound that had emerged was a
garbled, hideous, high-pitched squabble.
    She had seen Auntie's stricken expression,
and Jenny's horrified look the first time she had made that sound,
so she had stopped trying to talk altogether.
    But Auntie hadn't given up easily. Every day,
for half an hour, Elender sat her down in the parlor and tried to
teach her to speak.
     
    'A,' Auntie said slowly, drawing the sound
out so that it lingered musically in the air. 'Aaaaa . . . Now, try
to repeat it, Elizabeth-Anne. Just watch my lips. Aaaaa . . .'
    Elizabeth-Anne sat in the chair and stared at
her.
    'A,' Auntie said again. She pointed at her
own lips and then moved her hand gracefully, as if she were
conducting an orchestra. 'Aaaaa . . . Aaaaa . . .'
    Elizabeth-Anne dutifully formed the vowel
with her lips, but not a sound could be heard.
    Auntie drew her chair closer to
Elizabeth-Anne's. She took the girl's hands and looked into her
face. 'Let's try it again, dear,' she said gently. 'Aaaaa . .
.'
    Elizabeth-Anne eyed her sadly. She had never
felt so miserable. She wished Auntie would give up.
    Elizabeth-Anne knew she would never be able
to speak again, no matter how much coaching she got. It wasn't that
she didn't want to speak. She just couldn't.
    'Aaaaa . . .' Auntie gave Elizabeth-Anne's
hands a little squeeze. 'Please, dear. Just give it a try?'
    Elizabeth-Anne nodded solemnly. She had loved
Auntie since that first day, and she wanted to please her in any
way she could. She'd do anything for her. Anything . But
couldn't Auntie understand that the one thing she simply couldn't do was speak? That she would never talk again? That
as hard as she tried, it just wouldn't happen?
    'Aaaaa . . .' Auntie prodded again, and
Elizabeth-Anne closed her eyes and furrowed her brow in
concentration. She took a deep breath. Then, summoning up all her
strength, she opened her mouth and once again formed the sound with
her lips. She fought to force it out from deep inside her, and she
could feel the back of her throat hurting from the strain, but
still there was only silence.
    She fought to bring out a sound. Any
sound.
    'Eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh.'
    All she could produce was that inhuman
clucking noise. Defeated, she slumped in the chair and opened her
eyes. She stared at Auntie helplessly.
    I've failed , she thought miserably.
I've let Auntie down again .
    But Elender smiled reassuringly, quickly got
up, and bent down to hug her. 'That was very good, Elizabeth-Anne!'
she said. 'I'm very proud of you. We'll continue tomorrow.'
    And Elizabeth-Anne thought: Oh, what's the
use?

7
     
     
     
    It was the twenty-third of December, and rain
was lashing down in thick sheets. In the warm parlor, Elender
hummed 'Silent Night' to herself as she stood atop the stepladder
and carefully draped the last glittering garland around the top
branches of the Christmas tree. Then, clapping her hands together
in a gesture of finality, she stepped down, moved the ladder away,
and stood back. She surveyed the trimmed tree with pleasure.
    The pine was perfectly cone-shaped and stood
nearly six feet tall. It was crowned by the angel she had made
years earlier out of gold paper and white lace, and the crocheted
ornaments and the silver glass balls she cherished sparkled and
looked lovely. The feathery white angel's hair stretched from
branch to branch like snowdrifts. All that was missing were the
candles.
    In the past eight years Elender's Christmas
festivities had become a tradition. All her roomers were single or
widowed, and she made an effort to ensure that they enjoyed a nice
holiday. On Christmas Eve she