She feels the wave rise up from the depth of the ocean and pour out of her, voice deep, moaning, a great moan, crying out, a crescendo of sound in the silence, shattering the glass. The prayer man stopped, waited, and when the waters had subsided, he, looking, holding her, holding all of her, reached out his hand and sent the little girl into the fire. Those people, those black fellas, they know how to farewell. They know how to say goodbye, raging and raving, weeping and wailing. They know how to enter the darkness and walk out again into the light.
Someone dies and the call goes out.
The family hear it and those old women hear it too. Somehow those old women hear about it and they come. They come noisily, calling out to the spirit, getting a hold on that spirit. They know how to talk to those spirits. They call to them and tell them to go.