Shadow Theatre Read Online Free PDF Page A

thought at first that after so many cold American
winters, Miss Shakilah was standing in front of the window so
she could feel the heat on her face and neck (Miss Shakilah was
wearing the yellow linen dress she had worn the day before,
loosely fitting with short sleeves and a scoop neckline), but later
Malika would wonder if perhaps she was wrong, if perhaps Miss
Shakilah had been searching the garden for the girl, although
the sugar cane was on the other side of the house and ghosts
were often fussy about where they chose to appear.

    I saw you," she said, turning to Malika. "Earlier, when you
were opening the windows. You must have seen her. Did you?"
    There was a certain urgency in Miss Shakilah's voice, and
Malika saw in Miss Shakilah's long-lashed brown eyes (still clear
and bright but definitely older, definitely experienced, Malika
thought now) an anxious glimmer, as if Miss Shakilah desperately wanted to hear that she, Malika, had seen the girl. What
Malika wondered was how it had been possible for Miss
Shakilah herself to have seen the girl, since the windows in
Madam's study opened out towards the banyan trees and the
back fence. There were no windows in the wall near the sugar
cane. The only way was if Miss Shakilah had noticed the girl
before going into the study, so Malika told herself that must
have been what happened.
    Only later would she realize, as she replayed the scene over
and over in her mind, that there had been no one in the sugar
cane when she had first looked through the glass of the livingroom windows, when they were still closed.
    "Yes, Miss," she said, in reply to Miss Shakilah's question.
"The girl in the sugar cane, yes, I saw her. You know who she is,
Miss?"
    Miss Shakilah shook her head and smiled. "No, I don't," she
told Malika.
    There was sorrow in her smile, Malika thought at first, and
then she wondered if she was mistaken, since there would be no
reason for Miss Shakilah to feel sorrow over a child she didn't
know, and Malika didn't get the feeling that Miss Shakilah was
lying.
    "Has Madam seen her?" asked Miss Shakilah, and Malika
wasn't sure if she meant earlier that morning, or if Miss Shakilah
was inquiring as to whether Madam knew there was a ghost in
the garden?
    She wondered why Miss Shakilah hadn't asked Madam about
it herself, but there could have been any number of reasons. They hadn't seen each other in fifteen years and in a way, Miss Shakilah
and Madam were just starting to get to know each other as
friends. There was so much else for them to share about their
present lives. And Miss Shakilah was preoccupied with worry
about her book (and her baby). Or perhaps she didn't want to
worry Madam, in the event that Madam hadn't seen the girl.

    "No, Miss, I don't think so," said Malika, without clarifying
for herself exactly what Miss Shakilah had meant by her last
question because there was no time. She could hear Madam
leaving the dining room, which was only a few footsteps away
from the kitchen, down a small corridor with walls covered with
photographs of the grandchildren growing up (there were seven
now, the elder four boys and Michelle's three girls).
    Madam's flat heels tapped lightly on the parquet floor as
they came towards the kitchen. In less than half a minute,
Madam was standing in the doorway, with a pink rattan bag
slung over her right shoulder and a yellow one hanging from
her left hand, both overstuffed with books and manila folders,
and she was saying to Miss Shakilah, "Are you ready, darling?"
    "Madam," Malika began, but Madam knew what she was
about to say and was already waving Malika's words away with her
right hand, her diamond ring sparkling on her wedding finger.
    "Yes, I know, Malika. Tomorrow. Tomorrow afternoon, I'll
go shopping for one of those travel carts. Okay?" She smiled
and explained to Miss Shakilah, "Malika's so sweet, always worrying about me. Come, let's go."
    "You tell her, Miss," Malika