Black Cat

by V. C. Andrews

  "Stop pretending to be in some sort of a sick daze!

  You do what I asked and do it now, damn you!" she screamed.

  Mama didn't speak, didn't even utter a sound in defense or protest. Her eyes closed again.

  "If you don't do what I want, go downstairs, boil water, and throw it on your face,"

  Betsy threatened.

  Mama's eyelids fluttered, but didn't open. Betsy flung her back to the bed and pillow, turned, and glared hatefully at me.

  "I'm sick of you. Sick of her. Sick of this place. She's not getting away with stealing my money! Betsy bellowed.

  "She's not stealing it," I said as calmly as I could. "Your father wanted it this way."

  "He did not. She made him do it." Betsy pointed at Mama, "She had him hypnotized or something." She glowered at Mama, "You're not getting away with any of this anymore. Sarah." she shouted.

  "She can't help it. She's not well. I can't even get her to drink water."

  "Oh. stop. I know what she's up to. She probably thinks her spirits will save her, but not this time. You're not the boss this time. Sarah. You're not telling anyone to do anything anymore. I want my money!"

  Mama's lips moved slightly but her eyes remained closed.

  "She's not pretending. You'll have to wait until we get her well again!"

  "Is that right, Noble Celeste? I have to wait?" Betsy said, smiling madly. "Me? I'm the one who has to wait for my own money?"

  "Can't you see how she is?"

  She turned back to Mama. "I see a phony, a lunatic. That's what I see. Okay, you want to play hardball. Sarah, we'll play hardball. I'm going down to boil the water."

  She spun around and charged past me, pushing me aside as she went by and out the bedroom door. Mama moaned, but she didn't open her eyes.

  "Please. Mama." I said. "let's get her the money and get her out of here for good."

  Mama didn't open her eyes, didn't move her lips. I touched her face lovingly and called to her, but she didn't react. She doesn't hear me. I thought. It was what I had always feared. Facing the reality of Noble's death drove her down so deeply, her own body had become her coffin and she was about to close the lid on herself.

  "Oh. Mama," I moaned, lowering myself to press my cheek to hers. "can't we live happily as we really are? Can't I be your Celeste again? Please. Mama."

  My tears rolled off my cheeks and onto hers, but she didn't open her eyes. I felt the vibration of a moan within her, a vibration that sounded like a long, hollow N000000000! Then I stepped back, looked at her, and waited to see if she would react before I left the bedroom. I had to go. I had to calm down Betsy and &lire out some sort of solution until I could get Mama some help. Perhaps I would call Mr. Bogart, I thought. He would know what to do. Or I could call the Reverend Mr. Austin and his wife. Tani. They were so nice, so understanding. They would help us.

  I'll tell Betsy my plan, I thought. It will calm her down to see I'm trying to do something.

  When I went looking for her, I did find her in the kitchen. She had put up a pot of water and brought it to a boil. She heard me behind her and turned.

  "Has the queen decided to play ball? Is she up and ready to make the call?"

  "No. Betsy. I told you. She's not pretending. I've decided to call Mr. Bogart or the Reverend Austin and ask them for help. They'll know what we should do."

  "Oh, is that your solution? Call her herb distributor or that silly reverend, who'll probably come here and make wonderful speeches about how lucky we all are to be together? Maybe she isn't pretending. Maybe she is crazy. but I'll snap her out of it. I have everyone waiting for me. Tad is getting it all together. We're leaving tomorrow after I get my money. Timers up." She put a pot holder around the pot handle, lifting the boiled water off the stove.

  "You can't do that. She won't even know you're threatening her."

  "Oh, she'll know. NI let a drop or two fall on her face and she'll suddenly see the light," Betsy said, her eyes wide with excitement. "Get out of my way or I'll throw it all on you." She brought the pot back and up, poised to cast the water at me.

  "Please. Just give me the chance to get us help. It's the best way." "Move!" she shouted.

  I had no doubt that she would throw that boiling water at me. I stepped aside and she walked quickly out of the kitchen with me following and cajoling her to be reasonable, to give me an opportunity to do the things she wanted.

  She didn't respond or pause until she was halfway up the stairs. "If this doesn't work, then we'll go to your plan. but I think it's going to work. Trust me." Then she continued up, stopping about three steps from the top.

  Baby Celeste had come out of her room and was standing glaring down at her. "Get that kid out of my way or I'll scald her."

  "Celeste, get out of her way," I screamed, and hurried to catch up.

  Rather than get out of Betsy's way, Baby Celeste held her arms out to prevent her from going past her and, to my shock and surprise, stepped down toward her, practically challenging her to attempt to go farther.

  "She's as crazy as your mother," Betsy said, and brought the pot back to cast some of the boiling water at Baby Celeste.

  I charged up the few steps that separated me from Betsy and seized her right arm.

  "No!" I shouted, and wrenched her back. She missed a step, but the force of my pull sent her flying against the wall on my left. She hit it hard with her forehead, spun like a ballerina in the air, and then came down two steps below, her legs crumbling under her weight, sending her head over heels down the remaining steps. The pot of boiling water seemed suspended in midair for a moment, then came crashing down behind her, the water leaping out of the pot, some of it splashing on her legs. She landed at the bottom of the steps, her body twisted awkwardly so that her torso was going in one direction, but her head in the completely opposite. The pot clanged on the floor and rolled to a stop.

  Betsy's right arm was turned and bent all the way back at the elbow. Her left arm had slapped against the step so hard. I could see that it had broken at her forearm, the jagged bone actually piercing the skin and starting a trickle of blood. I stared down at her, astonished at the strange ballet I had caused, a ballet I realized almost immediately was a dance of death.

  I stood there in shock, not realizing for a good minute that Baby Celeste had come down the steps and taken my left hand into hers. She was staring at Betsy, too.

  "Oh, my God," I said. "I think she's dead."

  Then I realized Baby Celeste was there and I looked at her. She was as still as a statue, intrigued with the sight before her. I lifted her into my arms and slowly descended toward Betsy's broken body. Her eyes were still wide open, but had already taken on that glassy appearance of two marbles, no longer bringing any information into her head. They were now two snuffed candles, not even smoldering. Darkness had entered her and quickly drowned every thought, every memory. She was filled with silence.

  "What are we going to do?" I moaned.

  Baby Celeste stared down at her and then turned to me, her little eyelids blinking rapidly.

  "Put her in the garden," she said.

  The shock of her suggestion truly hit me like a bolt of lightning, but instead of making me feel hot, it drove the blood into my feet and turned my heart to ice. Still carrying Baby Celeste in my arms. I turned and ascended the stairway. Mama will know what to do. I thought. Mama will tell me. She has to wake up now She has to help me.

  I entered the bedroom as quickly as I could and went to Mama's side. lowering Baby Celeste to the floor. She stood there beside me looking at Mama. I took Mama's hand in my two hands and went to my knees, lowering my head like someone in prayer.

  "Mama, a terrible thing just happened. I tried to stop Betsy from throwing boiling water at Baby Celeste and coming up here to throw it at you. and I made her fall down the stairs.Im sure her neck's broken. Imm sure she's dead. Mama. She's dead. What should I do? Please. Mama. Please wake up and help me, help us. Please."

  I waite
d, but she didn't move, nor did she speak. Nevertheless. I remained there and pleaded with her. I don't know how long I was there on my knees, but darkness fell around the house and my knees suddenly stung and ached. Baby Celeste was gone when I turned to look for her. and I could hear Panther crying. He sounded hoarse so I was sure he had been crying awhile and I had just not heard.

  I pulled myself up and looked down at Mama. She had her head turned a bit to the right. Panicked. I felt for her pulse. It was there, but so very slight. She was running down like some old windup toy. I thought.

  Ill make her something to eat. I'll prepare one of her many cereals with honey. If I get her to take in some food, she'll get better. I decided. Yes, that's all I have to do: get her to take in some food.

  And I have to look after Panther and Baby Celeste as well. I thought, and rushed out. First things first. I told myself. After I've done everything that has to be done. I will sit in the living room in Grandpa Jordan's chair and I will wait to be told what I should do. That's it. They'll tell me. Things will be fine. I should have thought of that before. How silly of me. They won't let anything bad happen to us.

  I went directly to Panther and changed his diaper first. Then I soothed him and calmed him and carried him down to feed him. He looked at Betsy's body with some curiosity, but no emotion. He didn't call to her or reach for her. Instead, he tightened his little arms around my neck.

  "There, there," I said. It will be all right. Well all be fine," Baby Celeste was in the kitchen nibbling on a graham cracker.

  "Hungry." she said angrily.

  "I know. Celeste. I'm going to make us all dinner right now. Keep Panther occupied while I do it." I put him in his high chair. I gave him one of the crackers Baby Celeste was eating, and like a good girl she sat with him and talked to him while I worked on our dinner.

  We are going to be fine. I thought. I fed them both. then I took the bowl of food with a cup of herbal tea up to Mama. She hadn't moved a muscle, changed her position one inch. I fixed the pillows and propped her up. but her head fell forward. I lifted it gently under the chin.

  "Mama, please try to eat. I have something very good for you." I spooned some cereal into her mouth, but her jaw didn't move. The cereal remained on her tongue.

  Maybe I can wash it down with water, I thought, and filled a glass. I held her head tilted and poured it in. She gagged and spit it up along with the cereal, but her eyes didn't open.

  "What am I going to do?" I asked her silent face.

  I stepped back and looked at her, then I walked out slowly, my head bowed, my shoulders sagging under the weight of such defeat. My thoughts were like Ping-Pong balls bouncing back and forth, pieces of this idea, pieces of that, but nothing sensible, no two sentences being completed. I was in a daze myself by the time I reached the bottom of the steps and avoided Betsy's broken body.

  I put Panther in his playpen. Baby Celeste sat beside it and opened one of her books. and I sat in Grandpa Jordan's chair and waited with my eyes closed. I know I fell asleep because when I opened them again. Panther was asleep in the playpen and Baby Celeste was lying asleep on the sofa. The house was dark and silent.

  It was then that an idea came to me. It came to me so vividly and firmly. I was sure it was coming from our spiritual family. It brought a smile to my face. Of course. I thought. I should have thought of it before. I got up and looked out the window, and sure enough, there they were, all of them gathered together, looking at the house and talking. Daddy was there, too, but someone was missing, someone I had to bring out as well.

  I glanced at the children and decided they were fine. Then I hurried upstairs, not even noticing Betsy this time, and went directly to Mama's bedroom, opened the dresser drawer, and got the door key. Mama was still propped up as I had left her to feed her, but her head was down and her arms limp.

  "Everything will be fine soon. Mama." I said. "Just wait and you'll see."

  Excited. I ran up the small stairway to the turret room and opened the door. I knew just where to go and what to get. It took me only a few minutes to do that and be out and downstairs again. I went back to Mama's room and stripped naked. Then I went into her shower and scrubbed myself well, luxuriating in the lather of her perfumed soap. As soon as I was out and dried. I began to brush my hair differently. I sat at her vanity table and put on my makeup just the way I had experimented with it some time ago. Buoyed by what I saw in the mirror. I put on the bra, the panties, and the dress I had chosen long ago as my favorite during one of my secret visits to the turret room. I slipped on the shoes and I looked at myself in the mirror.

  "Oh. Mama," I cried. "I am beautiful. Look at me. Look at me once and see me, really see me," I pleaded.

  I was sure she raised her head and looked, and then she smiled. I was sure of it. I smiled back.

  "Celeste." I was sure she said it. "My darling Celeste. You've come home." "Yes. Mama. I'm back for good." I hugged her and was sure she hugged me.

  Then I hurried out and down the stairs. I had to show everyone. That was very, very important.

  I stepped out of the house and walked to the edge of the porch. "Look at me!" I shouted.

  They all turned.

  Daddy was smiling. "My left arm!" he cried.

  Off to my right, a shadow lifted from an unmarked grave. Everyone turned to look. The shadow came out of the little cemetery and slowly made its way down toward the house. When it drew close enough, we could all see. It was Noble, and he, too, was smiling.

  "My right arm! Daddy cried.

  Noble went to him and Daddy put his arms around him. I stepped off the porch and they both approached me and embraced me.

  We three turned and looked up. That was Mama ' looking out and down at us. I was sure.

  "How wonderful," Daddy said. "We'll all be together again." "Yes. Daddy. I told him.

  "And you'll play with me?" Noble asked with suspicion and doubt. "Yes. I will. I promise," I said.

  He looked at Daddy and smiled.

  We can all go in the house now," Daddy said. "Lead the way. Celeste."

  I held his hand and he held Noble's hand. Behind us, our family members clapped and cried out in joy. I opened the door and Daddy and Noble went in ahead of me.

  When I turned. I looked toward the forest where I saw Elliot, his head down, making a quick retreat into the darkness from which he had come and to which he would return forever. Then I went in, and with Daddy and Noble beside me. I undressed the children, got them into their pajamas, and put them both to bed. I fixed Mama as well to make her more comfortable.

  Daddy sat beside the bed and held her hand. and Noble sat with me on the bed. We talked softly late into the night until my eyes wouldn't stay open.

  "Go on to sleep," Daddy said. "I'll stay with her."

  "Me, too." Noble said.

  "Okay," I told them. I kissed Mama's cheek and then went to bed. I fell asleep in my clothes.

  I slept late into the morning. Panther was up but he was occupied with some of his toys and apparently didn't cry out and scream as he usually did every morning. It was Baby Celeste who woke me with a scream.

  I rubbed my eyes and sat up. She was standing in the doorway staring at me.

  And she was crying.

  "What's wrong, Celeste? Why are you crying?" I quickly got up to go to her. She backed away from me as though she was frightened of me.

  "What's wrong. honey?" I asked, smiling at her.

  "I want Noble."

  I tilted my head. "Noble?"

  "I want Mama."

  "Mama. Yes. Let's go look in on Mama." I reached for her hand, but she pulled away and ran to her room, slamming the door closed on me.

  "Celeste, what is it?" I cried after her.

  That child is a handful, I thought. She always will be.

  I went to Mama's bedroom and looked in on her. She was exactly as I had left her, only when I drew closer, I saw she was pale, her lips blue. I rushed to her side and felt her face. It was cold. H
er fingers were stiff.

  Mama's gone. I thought. Mama's gone. They took her last night. Daddy and Noble took her with them.

  I didn't cry. Mama wanted to go, otherwise she wouldn't have gone. I thought. She'll be back anyway. They'll all be back. In the meantime, I had a lot to do. It would be the last time I would work so hard in the garden.

  It all kept me so busy. I forgot about the children. By the time I looked in on them. Panther had fallen back asleep, probably exhausted from crying. Baby Celeste was curled up with her thumb in her mouth. She looked absolutely terrified. I practically dragged her out and down the stairs to get something in her stomach.

  You can be silly and childish afterward," I told her. "For now you have to eat something,"

  I prepared food for Panther as well and went back upstairs to him after I looked after Baby Celeste. He was awake again and hungry. I had no trouble getting him to eat everything. I changed him, dressed him, and brought him downstairs.

  Baby Celeste still refused to speak to me, but she at least went into the living room to occupy herself with her books and toys.

  "I've got a lot of housecleaning to do," I told the both of them. "I want the two of you to behave yourselves while I work. If you're good. Ill give you both some ice cream later."

  Baby Celeste looked up at me skeptically. Panther jumped up and down in his playpen, energized and remarkably happy, I thought.

  We're all going to be fine, I told myself again, and went right to work.

  Late in the afternoon. I heard a car pull up to the house and moments later a knocking on our front door. I had just finished putting all of Betsy's clothing in the turret room and was halfway down the stairs, Baby Celeste came to the living room doorway to see who it was, too.

  "Noble," she said hopefully.

  I shook my head, "No, Celeste. It's not Noble. Noble doesn't have to knock on the door to be let in."

  I opened the door and saw Tad standing there. He was wearing a jeans jacket, no shirt beneath it, and a pair of tom jeans and sneakers without socks. His hair was unbrushed, the strands in revolt and trying to escape from his scalp in every direction.