Scattered Leaves

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Scattered Leaves Page 17

by V. C. Andrews


  I thought about trying to lie to her and decided instead to just be quiet.

  "Did you like your first day of school?" she asked instead of asking anything about Stuart.

  "No." I said. 'My teacher isn't very nice and I have lots and lots of homework to do."

  "Oh. dear. Not nice, you say?" She thought a moment, then smiled. "Well, maybe that's because it's the first day and she wants all the students to be sure they behave. You must not judge too quickly. My father used to tell me that. Take a deep breath. Frances, he told me, and listen again or look again. So take a deep breath and let's see how you feel tomorrow, okay?"

  I nodded.

  "I have to get started on my homework," I said. "It's a lot, more than I ever had," I emphasized.

  "Oh? Well, that might be because its the first day, too. You do what you think you should. We're going to have something called a quiche for dinner tonight. I took it out of the freezer and defrosted it. It's French, so we'll have French music. and I have two very pretty skirts for us to wear and French hats. My parents went to France a long time ago and brought them back for Emma and me. but Emma hated hers. I know how to say some things in French. I'll teach them to you later. okay? I also had this chocolate fudge cake in the freezer I had forgotten. Won't that be a wonderful dessert. We'll have a good time," she promised.

  I nodded quickly and ran up the stairs. I was very worried about the bottles of alcopops in the basement. If Alanis's granddad punished her and made her stay in the house, she couldn't get over here to get rid of them, and then, if the police came to look, they would see we were all lying.

  I decided to sneak down into the basement and take care of it myself, Great-aunt Frances was watching her show, so it wasn't hard. I was glad I had done it because the bottles were everywhere and there were seven full ones left in a bag at the side of the sofa. I gathered it all as quickly and quietly as I could and then took it all upstairs. Before I stepped out. I listened for Great-aunt Frances. I just heard the television. so I went quickly through the kitchen and out the door to the big garbage cans. I put it all in one and then hurried back inside and up to my room to start my homework. I wanted to get it done as quickly as I could so I could get back to Ian's letters and finish reading them. Maybe there was something about Mother in one of the letters he'd written later. Surely, they wouldn't all be about insects. I hoped.

  The homework wasn't difficult, but there were so many math problems to do that I thought I would be working on it until I went to sleep. I lost track of time, so when I heard footsteps in the hallway. I was sure it was Great-aunt Frances coming to tell me to get ready for our French dinner. I wasn't excited about getting dressed up as a French lady, but considering the phone call she received and the trouble we could still be in, I thought I should do whatever she wanted,

  When I looked up, however, I saw it was Alanis.

  "You took away the bottles. I hope?" she asked. "I went down there but they were gone. It wasn't your great-aunt, was it?"

  "No. I did it. I put them all in the garbage can."

  "What? We can't do that. My granddad takes the garbage down to the front of the driveway for the garbagemen. He's liable to see it. He thinks I might be telling the truth right now, otherwise, he'd whip me good."

  "He whips you?"

  "Not with a whip, but it might as well be. He's got this thick leather belt leaves welts the size of quarters. Your parents never whipped you?"

  I shook my head.

  "Not your grandmother either?"

  "No." I didn't say it, but her whipping us with her words stung enough.

  "I'll take care of the bottles.I'll hide it all behind the barn in a hole where I've thrown other stuff. What did your great-aunt say when you got home?"

  "She said Mrs. Browne called and asked about a party."

  "What did she say?"

  "She told her I was asleep and she hadn't seen Stuart."

  "Good. That's perfect. We'll be fine. You did real good today, Jordan."

  I knew it wasn't something to be proud about, but her smile and compliment made me feel better.

  "The bottles," she said and hurried away. Not ten minutes later. I heard Great-aunt Frances coming with the skirt, hat and blouse she wanted me to wear,

  After I dressed. I looked at myself in the mirror. Suddenly. I was surprised myself at how comfortable and relieved I felt escaping from reality and

  pretending to be in one of Great-aunt Frances's makebelieve worlds. In those worlds, we had no Mrs. Brownes and no policemen, no lying and trembling with fear.

  When I stepped into the kitchen. I found her in her skirt and blouse and French hat. The French music was playing. She turned from the oven.

  "Bonsoir, ma peu assez un. Comment allezvows?"

  I didn't know what to say.

  "That means 'Good evening, my little pretty one How are you?' Go on and say 'How are you?' in French."

  She repeated it for me. and I said it.

  "Parfait. That's 'perfect' in French. Now I'll tell you to sit at the table. Reposez-vous a la table,s'il vows plait. The last part means 'please.' Always say 'please' when you ask someone to do something. Go on. say 'please' in French." She repeated it. and I did it, and she clapped. "Parfait. What's that mean?"

  "Perfect "

  "See? You're speaking French."

  "How did you learn it?" I asked. impressed.

  She served the quiche and poured us each a glass of grape juice. Then she lit a candle she had placed on the table.

  "We had a French maid and she spent a lot of time teaching me. It annoyed Emma because she thought I wasn't learning it properly. I should learn it in school only. It bothered her that I could speak French and she couldn't. I remember." she said smiling. "when this boyfriend of hers came to the house and I started to speak French to him. Suddenly, he was more interested in me. and Emma was fit to be tied. He even called me for a date once. but I said no. I didn't want Emma to hate me more than she did."

  "She hated you?"

  "She couldn't help it." Great-aunt Frances said.

  "But why?"

  "Let's not talk about it. I'll teach you French, too, and someday, you'll impress everyone. You hear that song?" she asked. "That's a famous French singer. Edith Piaf. My father loved her and he loved when I could sing, too. Emma couldn't carry a tune in a suitcase." She laughed. "That's what my father told me once and right in front of her."

  Haw cruel, I thought, and like a fog starting to thin out and disappear. I began to see through the clouded past and understand why my grandmother might have resented her sister, who'd been prettier, softer, more like the little girl her father had wanted. In fact. I suddenly thought Grandmother Emma was like the little 1 outside the storefront window looking in at the rich little girl inside surrounded by the things she would never have.

  But why, then, had she sent me here? Had she known I would be more trouble?

  Was I really what Great-aunt Frances suspected. Grandmother Emma's revenge lobbed like a ball of fire and pain from her bed of misery where she lay condemned by her own bitter heart?

  Or was I somehow her plea for forgiveness?

  I believed the answer waited impatiently to be heard somewhere within the shadows in this old house,

  10 My First Brassiere

  . After dinner, as usual. Great-aunt Frances went to watch television. She wanted to leave the dishes for the morning, but as soon as she left the kitchen. I cleaned up. Then I hurried back to my room to complete my homework so I could dig into Ian's letters again. Finally, I was able to pull out the bag of them from the closet and begin.

  Dear Jordan,

  Today, when they brought me to see Dr. Walker, he -wasn't in his office yet, so I had the chance to look at some of the paperwork on his desk, and I made a terribly sad discovery. Our own father is spineless. He gave them terrible lies about me and then he signed the bottom of the paper. I studied his signature carefully and made another discovery. Our father is a cockroach.
I should have known. He always ran or hid from any threat, any criticism. He looks for a safe hole and crawls in it.

  I confirmed this after Dr. Walker came in, sat behind his desk and started to question me. I told him I was very saddened to realize that my father was a cowardice insect. I explained it all carefully so he would see there was no sense in trying to get me to change my mind.

  "It's grandmother's fault," I told him.

  "Why?" he wanted to know.

  "My grandmother is a spider," I said. "She wove a web and trapped us all in it. She caught our father in the web shortly after he was born and she kept him under her control. Now that he is injured and can't even crawl away he can do nothing but what she tells them to do.

  Dr. Walker looked very impressed. He nodded and took his notes and then he asked me what I thought that made me.

  "You are, after all, his son, are you not?"

  "I'm not sure," I said. "I'm not finished with my research about that."

  "What about your sister?"

  "The same, " I told him. "Let's just say the jury is still out. We are still weighing all the evidence before we decide. "

  He smiled.

  We then got into a long conversation about good and evil and I told him neither existed. Things are simply what they are. Is it bad that we eat cows, lamb and chicken? It's not too good for them, I said and he laughed.

  "Everything that lives," I said, "lives off something else that lives, especially you,'

  "Me?" He lost his smile. "In especially me?"

  "You live off of me and the others here," I said. "If we didn't exist, neither could you."

  "Tell, do I have a right to exist?' he asked me.

  I told him in this world even a black widow has a right to exist. Existence is in and of itself a reason to exist, Itwouldn't have been created if nature didn't want it created. Once something is born, no matter what it is, it fights to stay alive, so it must have as much of a right to exist as anything.

  He looked confused for a moment and then he smiled and said that I had given him something interesting to ponder.

  "See?" I told him then. 'Thinking is what gives you meaning. Without me, you wouldn't have a reason to be."

  He laughed. Despite his orders concerning n e, I think he's getting to like me. I don't care, of course, but I might find to use that someday. He'll trust me,

  Which brings me to why I'm writing this letter to you, Jordan. Do not trust our father, especially if Grandmother Emma dies. I'm not sure yet, but I think when that happens, he-will turn into a spider and you might get caught in his web.

  I'll let you know what else I learn,

  Ian

  .

  This letter frightened me so much that I threw it down quickly and took deep breaths. Then I folded it and stuffed it into the envelope. I put all the letters back in the bag and hid them again in the closet, closing the door as if I thought they could come crawling out like the insects Ian had described. Oh, why did I start reading his letters now? I asked myself. Because I had. I was afraid to go to sleep. afraid I would surely have nightmares. My gaze went around the bedroom, searching for any spiders, flies, anything. I did see a small spider in the corner and quickly squashed it with the back of my history book. Then I wiped it off and went around the room searching for any other insects. I saw none. but I had to look under the bed. too.

  "What are you looking for. dear?" I heard Great-aunt Frances ask. I stood up. I hadn't heard her come up the stairs and down the hallway. Maybe that was because she was barefoot.

  "Bugs," I said.

  "Oh, you mustn't worry over bugs. No matter what we do, they'll come around. Ignore them and they'll leave." she said. "I've decided to go to sleep earlier tonight and be sure to set the alarm clock so I don't oversleep and let you go off without a proper breakfast again. We'll have scrambled eggs and toast and hot chocolates together. okay? And before I forget," she said, coming into the room. "here's more money for lunches and whatever else they ask you to pay for at school. I remember they sometimes ask you to put deposits down on things or make you buy the school physical education uniforms."

  She handed me a fifty-dollar bill.

  "I swear that bill has been in my pocket for twenty years," she said. "Don't tell Emma," she whispered, as if Grandmother Emma had been just down the hallway in that nice bedroom.

  Suddenly, a panic came over me. She saw it in my face and she looked like I had stolen her breath. She brought her hand to her breast.

  "What is it. Jordan?'" I started to cry.

  "Oh, dear, what is it?"

  "I forgot. My teacher told me I have to wear a brassiere or she won't let me in her room."

  "A brassiere? Yes," she said. nodding., "you should wear a brassiere. Well, don't cry. Let's go look for one that will fit."

  She went to the dresser where many of her things remained and started to sift through the drawer.

  "I wasn't all that much older than you are when I started to wear one. My mother insisted. Rather. Emma made her insist." she told me. "She said I 1.k.ras an embarrassment because I was younger than she was and I needed it and she didn't. She didn't want to be seen with me. Now where did I put... here we go," she said, pulling a brassiere out from under some panties. "I'm sure this will do fine."

  I took it from her. It looked faded, more yellow than white, but the clips that fastened it were fine.

  "See? Nothing to cry over." She stood up and smiled. "Did you brush your teeth? Don't forget." she sang and headed out.

  I put the fifty-dollar bill in my schoolbag with my books, then went to the bathroom to wash and brush my teeth. I took the brassiere with me to try it on. It felt too tight, and I thought it might stop me from breathing when I managed to fasten the clips. It cut into my skin as well, but what could I do? It was a relief to get it off when I went to bed.

  My first day at school, with all the added excitement and tension, had drained me more than I imagined. I don't think I'd ever fallen asleep as fast. I tossed and turned, however, and thought I heard sobbing again, but this time I was too tired to listen hard. It's just a dream, I told myself and fell into a deeper sleep. If Great-aunt Frances hadn't turned on her alarm clock and come to wake me. I would have overslept again for sure. Even so. I was in a daze getting myself washed and dressed. It took forever this time to get the brassiere clips hooked, and again. I felt I would suffocate. By the time I descended the stairway and entered the kitchen. Great-aunt Frances had prepared the breakfast she had promised.

  "I hope you like everything. I'm afraid I burned the toast a

  It was more than a little burned. but I didn't complain. The eggs weren't cooked enough either and had too much salt on them. The only thing that tasted good was the hot chocolate. I ate what I could, and when she wasn't looking. I dumped out the rest. Alanis came to the door just as I finished.

  "Good. You got up yourself this time." she said.

  "No. My great-aunt woke me," I said.

  "I had to wake myself first with my alarm clock." she told Alanis. "It's been a long time since I had to get up for school."

  "No kidding?" Alanis looked at me and shook her head. "Better get moving. We can't miss the bus. No one is taking us to school," she said dryly. She started to turn, then stopped and smiled. "You wearing a bra?"

  "Mrs. Morgan told me to wear it or else she won't let me into her classroom."

  "Oh. yeah? Well, we don't want to upset Mrs. Morgan."

  "It's very nice of you to look after her, Alanis." Great-aunt Frances said. "You're like a big sister. My sister never had the patience. She once left me alone after school and I waited and waited until a teacher saw me crying in a corner. My father was very upset with her. I was only seven!"

  "How sad," Alanis said, but didn't sound really sad about it. "C'mon."

  I picked up my schoolbag and followed her out to the door.

  "I gave her money for school uniforms and things," Great-aunt Frances called after us. I wished she hadn't told
.

  "She did?" Alanis asked the moment we stepped outside. "How much this time?"

  "Fifty dollars," I said.

  "That's good. Good work. Jordan."

  "I didn't do anything. She just gave it to me."

  "I told you she has lots of money hidden in there. We've got to look for it. You better let me hold on to the fifty. You don't want to lost it."

  I didn't want to give it to her. but I didn't know what to say that wouldn't make her angry, so I dug it out of the schoolbag.

  "Don't worry,I'll make sure we buy anything you need at school."

  We walked down the driveway. I saw where her granddad had filled in holes and trimmed the grass. Suddenly, he appeared at the gate. He was repairing the hinges. He stopped working and looked at us as we approached.

  "I don't want to hear nothing from that principal today-- or any day, for that matter," he warned. He pointed his finger at me. "You watch yourself now, Miss Jordan. Your family has enough trouble. You don't want to make new problems."

  "Stop picking on her, Granddad. I told you we didn't do nothing wrong. That boy lied."

  "Only thing I believe. Alanis, is you know what a lie is so you'd recognize it."

  She turned away to sulk. He looked at me, then went back to repairing the hinges. We heard the bus coming and stepped out to board it when it stopped.

  "No trouble now!" he warned.

  "Don't listen to him. He babbles," Alanis said. "I can't wait 'til I can live somewhere on my own. That's why I love your great- aunt's basement. It's like having my own place."

  We got onto the bus, and to both our surprise, we saw Stuart Gavin sitting in the seat on the right side, right before the last seat. His arm was in a cast, and his forehead had a scrape on the right side.

 

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