Black Cat

by V. C. Andrews

  "If you put your ear to the wall," Mama once told me and Noble. "you can hear them." Noble did it a few times, heard nothing, and thought it was just a silly story. I did it and I did hear voices, muffled mostly, but voices. Sometimes. I woke to the sound of a laugh or even a scream and my little heart would pound. I would look over to see if Noble had

  heard anything, but he was in a deep sleep. undisturbed. I waited and listened and then slowly lowered my head to the pillow, but it wasn't easy falling asleep again. In the morning when I would tell Mama I thought I had heard something, she would nod and say, "Of course you did."

  Footsteps above us, shadows that Glided across walls, whispers that flowed in and out of rooms like tiny birds, were all expected and never feared,

  "We're loved," Mama would say. "We're surrounded by great love."

  Occasionally now, Baby Celeste would stop playing with a doll or her teacup set on the floor of the living room and look at something in the room, usually a chair or the settee. Mama would study her and then smile.

  "What. Celeste?" she would ask, "Did you see someone, hear someone?"

  I would hold my breath and wait for her response, for I had seen or heard nothing.

  Baby Celeste would simply smile and go back to her play. Mama would give me that all-knowing look and nod. and I would stare at my child and wonder, does she really have that vision, and if she does, will all this really make us safer. happier? Where are the three of us going? What do the spirits really intend for us? Perhaps tonight I would learn that and then I would truly beg-in to understand who we were.

  We sat at the table and began our dinner. Baby Celeste sat in a booster chair and ate with the quiet concentration of someone far older. I was nervous, but tried to hide it. In the hallway the grandfather clock chimed. The breeze had become a wind and the house began to creak, especially right above us. It sounded more like those footsteps on the roof I often heard. I watched Baby Celeste and saw her eyes lift toward the ceiling and then back to her food. Was I like that when I was her age, so accepting?

  Mama ate quietly, once again looking as if she was in a trance.

  Toward the end of our dinner, she put down her knife and fork and sat a little forward. I could feel her eyes were on me. When she was like this, it was not good to stare back or blurt out a "What's wrong?" It was better to just wait. I finished eating and put down my fork. Baby Celeste clapped her hands and I smiled at her anticipation.

  "As you know, Noble," Mama began. "we cannot keep Baby Celeste hidden from the world forever. It is a strain on us all and I appreciate how well you have done with your share of the

  responsibility. I know how hard it is for you to never go anywhere with me because you have to remain behind to care for Baby Celeste.

  "Our extended family," she continued, which was another way of including our spiritual ancestors, "believes we are quickly approaching the day when we cannot and should not keep her locked away from the outside world any longer."

  She smiled at her and Baby Celeste nodded her head as if she were commenting on Mama's statements, Mama stood up. lifted her out of her booster seat, and set her down. She immediately ran around the table to me and crawled up onto my lap. I held her and waited for Mama to continue.

  She returned to her seat.

  "Naturally, people will be surprised and will wonder how she could simply just appear. There are so many busybodies, so many snoops. It could bring us undesirable attention.

  "Therefore, we have to prepare for that day, prepare for the questions and the curiosity, especially when people see her and see how extraordinary she is."

  Baby Celeste lay back against me and listened to Mama attentively.

  "At first, the community, the gossips, people with no lives of their own. I should say. will obviously conclude that she is my child, the product of some illicit affair. Accusatory eves fall on each and every male who could possibly be her father. There will be noisy chatter all around us. Wives might even suspect their husbands, especially those who have come here for one reason or another. I'm sure you can see that it would not be nice for us."

  "What will you do. Mama?" I asked. How I wished she would reply with "Why, tell them she is yours, unmask you, permit you to be who you are, to return."

  But to do that, she would have to admit that Noble is gone and she would have to bury him for real this time.

  "I have been told what to do. I want you to understand that whatever I do now, it is for us all. and I must ask you to be cooperative," she replied.

  I nodded and waited, holding my breath. What was it she expected me to do? She smiled and rose.

  "Take Baby Celeste into the living room. Noble.Ill clean up myself tonight."

  I started to shake my head and stopped. I couldn't believe she wasn't going to tell me any more.

  "When will all this happen?" I blurted. "You'll see." She started for the kitchen.

  "But..."

  She turned and looked at me with those piercing dark eyes. I had learned a long time ago that when and if I ever contradicted her or challenged anything she said, her first assumption was that I had been compromised by something evil. Our protective wall had been broken somewhere and it was my fault. I wanted to dispute that. but I was afraid, even more afraid now that I had Baby Celeste to care for as well as myself,

  I picked up Baby Celeste quickly and left the dining room. For the next hour. I sat quietly and watched her play. Then I heard Mama go upstairs. She was gone so long. I couldn't help but wonder what she was doing. It was close to Baby Celeste's bedtime anyway, so I had her put away her toys and I took her upstairs. I heard Mama in her bedroom and I went to the doorway.

  She was unpacking cartons and bags, taking out some of her prettier dresses and shoes, things she had put away for what I thought was going to be forever and ever. I also noticed that her vanity table, which normally had little more than some of her herbal creams on it, was now covered with makeup and brushes, tubes of lipstick, eyeliner pencils and pads. She had brought down the full-length mirror from the turret room. too.

  "What are you doing. Mama?" I asked.

  She stopped and blinked as if she just remembered us. "Oh, is it that late?" She glanced at the clock. "Yes, get her washed and changed. Ill be right in to put her to bed."

  "But why did you take out all those cartons? What are you doing with all that?"

  "I'm picking out what is still nice."

  "And the makeup and the mirror?"

  "Don't stand there cross-examining me., Noble. Just do what I ask."

  "I'm not cross-examining you, Mama. I just wondered. That's all."

  I thought full-length mirrors made our spirits feel uncomfortable. Why had she brought it out and put it in her room of all places, a room our spiritual family visited more frequently than any other in the house?

  "I'll let you know when to wonder." she replied, and returned to her inspection of her wardrobe. Some of the clothing she hadn't worn since Daddy's death. She hadn't even worn it for Taylor Kates.

  She held up one dress and looked at it as if someone were in it.

  That expression 'it's so old it's new' certainly applies to my wardrobe," she muttered, turning the dress. "Besides, a woman who wears classic things will stand out in this world. She will catch the eyes she wants just like some fisherman catches the fish he wants."

  Was she talking to me or to herself or perhaps someone I couldn't see?

  She stopped talking, so I quickly left her and took care of Baby Celeste. Afterward, she came to the room and put her to bed. I waited, hoping to hear more of an explanation, more details about what had to be done.

  Smiling at me, she kissed my forehead and said goodnight. I couldn't help but be worried. Whatever she was about to do, to begin, was something that would have a major effect on Baby Celeste. What could it be and why wasn't I told. too? What if it was a big mistake and resulted in our losing Baby Celeste? I needed the comfort of spiritual voices. It had been so long since I
had felt and seen Daddy near us. Did that have to do with Noble and his situation?

  Mama was being secretive, I thought. and I was frightened of secrets. Secrets could lead to betrayal. It was always difficult to keep anything from Mama, and even if I did. I wasn't confident. I believed she truly had the power to see into my heart. The only thing I had not told her lately was what I believed about Noble, about his suffering and his need to have his name returned to him. but I also knew that for me to listen to him, to help him, was to change

  everything. Mostly, it meant Mama had to accept he was gone.

  Would we ever dig up his grave and take my dress and amulet off him?

  In nightmares I saw us both in the cemetery at night. I was digging and Mama was crying so hard. When the grave was uncovered and we could see him, he opened his eyes and reached up toward us. Mama screamed and I fell forward into the grave.

  This recurrent nightmare always woke me. I would sit up in a sweat and calm my thumping heart while I listened for anything in the house. I longed for Daddy's voice and the touch of his hand. If I longed hard enough, he would come and he would tell me it was all right. Everything was going to be just fine. Go to sleep.

  Would he be here tonight? I wondered. Does he know about Mama's secret plan?

  The Grandfather clock chimed below. It sounded like the countdown to doom. I lowered my head to the pillow and I waited and listened.

  But I heard only silence. Even the house was holding its breath.

  Tomorrow, I thought, tomorrow will bring answers and hopefully not just more questions.

  Mama said nothing more the next day. however. We all went about our daily routines. She left for town late in the morning so I had to come in and be with Baby Celeste until she returned. When she did, she had more than just groceries this time. She had gone to a department store and bought other things to wear, including new shoes. She didn't unpack them in front of me, but brought them up to her room and closed the door.

  It made me more nervous and I could hardly do my work in the garden without

  stopping every few minutes to look toward the house and wonder what was happening.

  Just before the end of the afternoon when she usually called to me to come in and wash up for dinner. I heard the front door open and close and saw her come down the steps. She was wearing a bright blue, off-shoulder dress and she had her hair brushed back and tied behind her head with a white and pink ribbon. It amazed me how quickly she could look younger when she wanted to do that. She looked my way so I gathered up my tools and quickly hurried back to the house.

  As I drew closer. I saw she was wearing earrings as well and she had a necklace of pearls I had not ever seen. She was wearing lipstick and some rouge.

  "I'm going for a walk," she said. "Baby Celeste is still napping. When she awakens, you can finish setting the table. I have a meat loaf all done."

  "Where are you going?"

  "I just told you Noble. I'm taking a walk."

  "But..."

  "But what?" she asked, her eves searching my face, scrutinizing me. "It's getting late and it will be dark soon."

  "So? Don't you think I'm aware of that?"

  "Yes, but..."

  "But what? What?" she screamed.

  I swallowed back my question: Why would she dress up and put on makeup to as for a walk? She didn't put on makeup to go to town or to stores.

  "Okay," I said.

  She nodded and walked down our long driveway. I watched her from the porch until she reached the road and turned left.

  Where could she possibly be going? And why?

  A movement to my left caught my attention. I turned and saw what looked like Daddy walking into the forest. I started to call to him, but he was gone as quickly as he had appeared.

  Something had called him back into the shadows. Did it have something to do with Mama, with her plan? On the lower thick branch of the tree he had just passed sat the large black crow I often saw. He stared back at me and was so still he looked stuffed. A sense of great anticipation hovered over everything. It made me feel as if I were in the eye of some great storm,

  I hurried inside to check on Baby Celeste and wait for Mama's return.

  To my surprise, she didn't return for so long. I actually began to worry that something might have happened to her. What could I do? I couldn't leave the baby and go looking for her. Baby Celeste and I set the table and I finally had to take out the meat loaf and serve the vegetables and mashed potatoes. Although we had never had a dinner without Mama present at the table. Baby Celeste ate well and didn't seem half as nervous Or confused about it as I was. My ears kept listening for the sound of Mama's footsteps on the front porch or the sound of the front door opening. I fidgeted with my food. My stomach tightened so much that I could barely swallow anything.

  Where was she?

  It had grown darker and darker just as I had predicted. too.

  I looked at Baby Celeste. She smiled at me and tapped her fork. I shook my head and she stopped. Why didn't it bother her more that Mama wasn't here?

  "Just eat. Celeste," I said.

  Finally. I heard the distinct sound of an automobile approaching the house. Why was there an automobile here? I wondered. No one ever came here without first calling, and Mama hadn't mentioned any customer coming. I couldn't answer the door, not without her here. Oh, where was she? I moaned to myself.

  I rose quickly and went to the front door. Opening it slightly. I peered out, and to my utter surprise I saw Mama emerge from a car. After she was out, she turned and laughed at something. It was a different sort of laugh, too, different from her amusement at something Baby Celeste had done or said. This was the light, flirtatious laugh of a young girl. I strained to see who was driving the car, but with the sky moonless tonight, the shadows were undiluted, thicker, masking the identity of the man. In fact, his silhouette was so dark, he looked more like one of our spirits. Could it be that?

  I saw Mama lean in toward him before she closed the door. Although I couldn't make out any words. I knew something was said, something that was followed by another laugh and then her closing the door. She stood there as the driver backed up and turned to go down the driveway. She waved and then lowered her head and started for the house.

  I closed the door softly but quickly and then scooped up Baby Celeste, who had followed me and was standing at my side.

  "Let's finish eating," I told her, and put her back on her booster seat as Mama entered the house.

  I looked back when she reached the dining room door. "Everything all right?" she asked. "Is the baby eating?"

  "Yes, Mama. But where have you been?"

  "I'll be right down," she said instead of replying to my question, and went to the stairway.

  I took my seat and waited for her. Baby Celeste finished eating and crawled out of her seat. She came around to me as Mama descended the stairs. She had changed into a housecoat and went right to serving herself her dinner. Both of us watched her quietly and waited,

  "It's probably cold by now, Mama. Do you want me to heat it up for you first?"

  "Why would I want you to do that? Since when do you heat up food for me?"

  "I just thought..."

  "It's fine," she said.

  She ate quietly for a few moments, gazing at the two of us. Baby Celeste was so still and quiet sitting on my lap that it was as if she had turned into a life-size doll.

  "Just look at the both of you," Mama began, "staring at me like this. Anyone would think I had been away for days, weeks, even months."

  "I was worried about you, Mama. It had gotten dark and you never miss dinner. I didn't know what to do," I said, unable to keep the panic out of my voice.

  She grimaced. "I need to know you have more grit in you than that, Noble. You've got to have a man's heart. courage. I don't want to see you grow into one of these namby- pambies I hear these people complain about when they come here to buy their remedies. From now on I might be gone more often and be
more and more in charge of things. I need to know you are capable of being responsible and strong."

  "I don't understand. by would you be away more and more. Mama?"

  "Oh..." She waved her hand. She looked to the side and shook her head at someone standing there listening to our conversation.

  Baby Celeste turned and with her tiny right forefinger traced the shape of my right ear. "Put her down," Mama ordered gruffly.

  I lifted her out of my lap and set her on the floor. She stood there confused for a moment and then just sat at my feet. Mama took a deep breath and blew the air between her lips. She was obviously annoyed and I had no idea why or what I had done to make her so.

  She ate a little more of her meat loaf and mashed potatoes, then paused and suddenly. as if nothing had been said before in a testy tone, smiled

  "You'll never guess whom I just met during my walk today," she began. "Who?" I asked quickly.

  "Mr. Fletcher," she replied.

  For a moment I thought I had imagined hearing it. That name, that family, their very existence, had been erased from the pages of our memories and censored as vigorously and firmly as profanity. Once -- well, mare than two years ago-- I mentioned seeing Betsy Fletcher with a boy parked at the beginning of our driveway. Mama went into a rage, forbidding me even to think of the Fletcher family. I was never to go anywhere near their property line.

  I said nothing. I stared and waited, holding my breath.

  "He was sitting on his front porch reading his newspaper when I reached the front of his property," Mama continued. "I heard him greet me and I paused and looked his way. The moment I did so, he rose and bounded off that porch like someone who hadn't seen a living soul for decades. His boyish enthusiasm actually made me laugh."

  "What did he want?" I asked in a throaty whisper.

  "Oh, he was very nice. He wanted to see how I was, how you were. He spoke so quickly I had no time to respond to one question before he asked another. He told me he had been hearing good things about my remedies and wanted to assure me that even though he was a pharmacist dispensing chemical medicine, he had a great deal of faith in what he called old-time panaceas. He told me his mother had a cold cure in fact that had been passed down from generation to generation. Its ingredients included nutmeg and honey, milk and old bourbon."