She shook her head slowly, her lips tightening. “As time passed, I became more comfortable with feeders than with humans. I was as wild as they were; I was as uninhibited. I ran with them because that was what made me feel good. I was serf-indulgent and vain. I think I knew there was danger in what I was doing, but it lacked an identity, and in the absence of knowing there was something bad about what I was doing, I just kept doing it. My parents could not control me. They tried keeping me in my room, tried reasoning with me, tried everything. But the park was mine, and I was not about to give it up.”
A car backfired somewhere out on Woodlawn, and Gran stopped talking for a moment, staring out the window, squinting into the hot sun. Nest felt the old woman’s hand tighten about her own, and she squeezed back to let Gran know it was all right.
“The Indian had no right to tell you,” Gran said finally. “No right.”
Nest shook her head. “I don’t think it was Two Bears, Gran. I don’t think he was the one.”
Gran didn’t seem to hear. “Why would he do such a thing? Whatever possessed him? He doesn’t even know me.”
Nest sighed, picturing Two Bears dancing with the spirits of the Sinnissippi, seeing anew the vision of Gran, wild-eyed and young, at one with the feeders. “When did you stop, Gran?” she asked softly. “When did you quit going into the park?”
Gran’s head jerked up, and there was a flash of fear in her narrowed eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“Gran,” Nest pressed, refusing to look away. “I have to know. Why did I have this vision of you and the feeders, do you think? I still don’t know. You have to help me.”
“I don’t have to help you do another thing, Nest. I’ve said everything I have to say.”
“Tell me about the other-the shadowy figure whose face I couldn’t see. Tell me about him.” “No!”
“Gran, please!”
The door to the library opened and Old Bob shambled down the hall. He stopped in the kitchen doorway, his coat and tie draped over one arm, his big frame stooped and weary-looking. He stared at them, his eyes questioning. Gran took her hand from Nest’s and picked up her drink. Nest lowered her gaze to the table and went still.
“Robert, I want you to change into your old clothes and then go out and haul that brush out to the roadway for Monday pickup,” Gran said quietly.
Old Bob hesitated. “Tomorrow’s a holiday, Evelyn. There’s no pickup until Tuesday. We’ve got plenty of…”
“Just do it, Robert!” she snapped, cutting him off. “Nest and I need a little time to ourselves, if you please.”
Nest’s grandfather flushed, then turned wordlessly and went back down the hallway. Nest and her grandmother listened to his footsteps recede.
“All right, Nest,” Gran said, her voice deadly calm. “I’ll tell you this one last thing, and then I’m done. Don’t ask me anything more.” She tossed back the last of her drink and lit a cigarette. Her gray hair was loose and spidery about her face. “I quit going to the park because I met someone else who could see the feeders, who was possessed of the magic. Someone who loved me, who wanted me so badly he would have done anything to get me.” She took a long pull on the cigarette and blew out a thick stream of smoke. “Hard to imagine now, someone wanting this old woman. Just look at me.”
She gave Nest a sad, ironic smile. “Anyway, that’s what happened. At first, I was attracted to him. We both ran the park with the feeders and used the magic. We dared anything. We dared things I can’t even talk about, can’t even make myself think about anymore. It was wrong to be like that, to do the things we did. But I couldn’t seem to help myself. What I didn’t realize at first was that he was evil, and he wanted me to be like him. But I saw what was happening in time, thank God, and I put a stop to it.”