When the Wind Blows

by John Saul

  Christie rolled over on the bed, her eyes red and her cheeks stained with tears.

  “I—I woke up, and—and I was going to pet my chick.”

  “But where did it come from?” Diana asked.

  Christie sniffled. “I brought it in last night. I was lonely, Aunt Diana. I just did it so I’d have some company.”

  “I see,” Diana said, her voice suddenly cold. “And how did you get out of the nursery?”

  There was a moment’s hesitation while the little girl looked at her warily. “It wasn’t locked,” Christie finally said, her voice unsteady. “I—I guess you must have forgotten to lock it last night.” She began crying.

  As she watched Christie’s face crumple a strange anger welled up in Diana. She shouldn’t cry. Little girls should never cry. When little girls cried, they had to be punished.

  “I didn’t leave the door unlocked,” Diana said. “And I won’t have you wandering around at night.”

  Christie shrank away from her, suddenly afraid of what was coming.

  “Take off your pajamas.”

  “No,” Christie wailed. “Please—no!”

  But she knew there was no escape. She had done something wrong, and she would have to pay for it. She dropped her pajama bottoms and leaned over. Slowly, deliberately, Diana began to spank her.

  Her hand moved like a metronome, lashing the little girl’s backside until it was red and sore. Only when Christie finally stopped crying did Diana stop.

  “There,” she said at last. “Now, go to bed, and don’t get up for at least an hour.”

  Christie stared up at her, her eyes filled with confusion. “I’m sorry,” she said at last. “I didn’t mean to kill the chick.”

  Diana ignored her. She stood up, picked up the box, then left the nursery. On the second floor she found her mother waiting for her. As she started to pass the old woman Edna suddenly lifted her cane and knocked the box from Diana’s hands. It fell open, and the chick rolled out onto the carpet. Edna stared at it.

  “I don’t believe it,” she said. “What in God’s name has that child done?”

  “It’s only a chick,” Diana replied, struggling to keep her voice steady. “Will you just go downstairs while I get rid of it? Christie’s in her room, crying. Please don’t ask me what happened.”

  Edna looked at her appraisingly, and Diana felt a sudden chill of fear. “When you’re done, I think we’d better have a talk,” the old woman said. Diana nodded mutely.

  She waited until her mother was gone, then took the box downstairs. Opening the back door, she dropped it into the trash barrel. She stared at the box a moment, then replaced the barrel’s lid and returned to the nursery.

  Christie was lying on the bed. She had stopped crying and was staring at the ceiling. When Diana came into the room, Christie didn’t look at her.

  “I thought you were a good girl,” Diana said, her voice cold. “Perhaps I was wrong.”

  Christie’s eyes, wide as a fawn’s, suddenly met Diana’s.

  “I didn’t do it, Aunt Diana,” she whispered. “Really, I didn’t.”

  “I’m not talking about the chick,” Diana said. “I’m talking about your disobedience. I don’t want you leaving this room at night. Do you understand?”

  Christie nodded mutely.

  “As for the chick,” Diana went on, “I suppose it must have suffocated.” Inside, Diana felt something A twinge, almost like a memory, but somehow different. She tried to grasp it, but it was gone. “Or maybe it didn’t,” she said suddenly. “Maybe you did kill it. You loved it, and people always hurt the things they love.” She stared balefully at Christie for a moment, then turned and left the nursery.

  When she was gone, Christie lay still. The world closed in on her, and suddenly she wished she were still a baby. Nothing bad, she thought, ever happens to babies.

  Her thumb disappeared into her mouth.

  Soon she drifted into a fitful sleep.

  Edna was waiting in the kitchen but said nothing until Diana had poured herself a cup of coffee and joined her at the table. When at last she spoke, her voice was quivering with rage.

  “And just how do you explain this?” she asked.

  “For heaven’s sake, Mother,” Diana replied, her voice reflecting the anger she was still feeling, but suddenly wanting to protect Christie from her mother’s wrath. “It was only a chick. Besides, she says she didn’t do it.”

  “Does she, indeed.” Edna responded sarcastically. “And whom does she think did do it?”

  Diana sighed heavily. “Mama, I didn’t even ask her. She doesn’t know its neck was broken. I told her it must have suffocated.”

  “Did you?” Edna remarked. Her sharp eyes bored into Diana. “Now, what would make you say a thing like that?”

  Again Diana had the strange sense of something half remembered, and she stared at her mother. “What are you talking about?” she asked.

  “I’m talking about you, Diana,” Edna said quietly. “Have you forgotten what happened when you were the same age as Christie is now?”

  “Mama—”

  “It was a kitten, that time. Esperanza’s kitten. Don’t you remember? It wandered into the nursery one night. I found it the next morning. Its neck had been wrung, Diana.”

  Diana’s cup clattered against the saucer as she set it down, coffee slopping over the rim.

  “Are you saying I killed that chick, Mother?” she asked.

  “Did you?” Edna countered.

  “Mama! Of course I didn’t!”

  Edna sat across from her. When she spoke, there was a sadness in her voice.

  “You were always a bad little girl, Diana. I’d hoped that age would change you. It hasn’t, has it?”

  The room seemed to tilt, and Diana felt a dizziness overcoming her. What was her mother doing? She had the feeling she was going to come apart and her insides were going to fall out.

  “Mama, please—”

  But Edna was relentless.

  “Diana,” she asked, her voice suddenly reasonable. “If Christie didn’t kill the chick, who did? There’s no one here but the three of us.”

  Diana, reluctantly met her mother’s eyes, and when she spoke, her tone belied her words. “I—I don’t understand.”

  Edna smiled triumphantly. “Did you know the wind was blowing last night, Diana?”

  Diana nodded and chewed at her lower lip. “It kept me awake.”

  “It always keeps you awake, doesn’t it?” Edna’s tone had become almost hypnotic, but Diana shook her head emphatically. “Not always,” she replied, her voice shaking. “Not anymore. It used to, but it doesn’t anymore.”

  Edna went on. “And you used to do strange things when it blew, didn’t you, Diana?”

  Panic welled in Diana, but she forced it down. “I won’t listen to you, Mother!”

  Edna stared into the depths of her coffee cup, then smiled at Diana. “Maybe Christie didn’t kill the chick, Diana,” she said softly. “Maybe she isn’t lying at all. And if she isn’t, it’s even more important that she leave here, isn’t it?”

  Then, as Diana sat shivering at the table, Edna rose and left the kitchen.

  There was a knot of fear in her stomach, and no matter how she tried to will it away, it remained there, gnawing at her.

  Could her mother be right?

  Could she have killed the chick herself and not remembered it?

  Dimly the incident with Esperanza’s kitten came back to her. She had put it out of her memory years ago, but now it was back, and she knew that it had happened the way her mother had recounted it. Though she had no memory of having choked the kitten, she knew she must have done it.

  The fear began to close in on her.

  What if her mother was right? What if she had killed the chick and didn’t remember? But it couldn’t be true—she wouldn’t let it be true. If it was, then she was crazy, and they could take Christie away from her. And that couldn’t happen. She wouldn’t let it happen.


  She knew she was going to cry but couldn’t help herself. Slowly at first, and then faster, the tears began to fall.

  9

  A week later the children came back.

  This time there were three of them. Jay-Jay Jennings, Kim Sandler, and Susan Gillespie. Diana saw them coming across the field, and as they neared the back door she spoke to Christie, her voice cold.

  “Why don’t they use the driveway?”

  Christie looked at Diana warily, wondering what to say. She was discovering that she couldn’t predict her guardian’s moods, so when she spoke, she was careful of her words.

  “It’s a shortcut,” she explained. “We know all kinds of them. Like, to get from our house to the Crowleys’, it’s fastest to go through the Gillespies’ backyard and over Mrs. Berkey’s fence.”

  “But the Crowleys live on this side of town,” Diana objected.

  Christie’s smile faded: she had made a mistake. “I didn’t mean this house,” she whispered. “I meant our house—my house.”

  Diana felt a flash of anger. This was Christie’s house now. The other house—the house she had lived in with her father—was in the past. Almost of its own volition her hand rose to slap Christie’s face, but a soft tapping at the back door stopped her. Christie quickly slid off her chair to let her friends into the kitchen as Miss Edna appeared at the dining-room door. Seeing the old woman, the children’s greetings died on their lips, and Diana glanced nervously from her mother to the children.

  “Mother, wouldn’t you like your coffee in the parlor?” she asked.

  “When you have time.” Though she spoke to Diana, her eyes remained fixed on the children. Now Diana, too, shifted her attention to the youngsters.

  “You’re all out early.” She made her smile welcoming, though she could feel the familiar anger building inside her.

  “We’re going swimming,” Kim explained. “Can Christie go with us?”

  Diana searched her mind for an excuse. “Well, I thought—”

  But Christie, sensing the refusal to come, pled her case.

  “Please can’t I go, Aunt Diana? We won’t go far.” She looked to her friends for support. “It’s not far, is it?”

  The children shook their heads, and Kim Sandler explained: “It’s just a little ways past the mine.”

  “You mean the old gravel quarry?” Diana asked.

  “All the kids swim up there,” Christie assured her.

  Diana searched her face, wondering if what Christie was saying was the truth. In the back of her mind she was beginning to have a suspicion that often they told you what they thought you wanted to hear. Finally she shook her head. “I don’t think so. I thought we’d go over to—” She hesitated, then decided to turn Christie’s own words against her. “—to your house today. We have to get the rest of your things.”

  As Christie’s face reflected her disappointment, Edna Amber suddenly spoke. Though she hadn’t moved from her position in the dining-room door, neither had she missed a word of what had been said.

  “Oh, for Heaven’s sake, Diana, let the child go! You and I can go get her things—there can’t be all that many of them, can there? Besides, it would be nice to be by ourselves for a while, wouldn’t it?”

  Diana glared at her mother. Edna appeared not to notice. And yet, though Edna’s face was placid, Diana’s resistance crumbled. “All right. But be careful, and be sure you’re back by noon.”

  Christie ran upstairs to get her bathing suit and a towel. Silence hung over the kitchen while she was gone. The children, sensing the tension, edged out the door, leaving the two women alone. Only when Christie reappeared, promised once more to be careful, and left, did Diana speak.

  “Why did you do that, Mother?” she asked. “That quarry’s dangerous, and you know it.”

  “You used to swim up there when you were a child,” Edna countered. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

  “We don’t even know if Christie can swim!”

  “Well, if she can’t, she’ll learn today,” Edna said coldly. “Either that, or she won’t come back.”

  As Diana stared at her Edna Amber began sipping her coffee.

  “How far is it?” Christie asked.

  They’d been walking for half an hour, and, though they’d passed the mine ten minutes ago, there was nothing around that looked to Christie like a quarry, or that seemed to hint of water. The brush and juniper of the valley floor had given way to a stand of aspen, and the road, since they’d passed the mine, had been replaced by a steep trail.

  Jay-Jay looked at her scornfully. “I thought you said you were there before.”

  “Well, I’ve heard you guys talk about it,” Christie said defensively. “Besides, all I said was that the kids swim there all the time. I didn’t say I ever had. Have you?”

  Jay-Jay nodded. “Me and Linda Malone were up there last week. It’s really neat.” She carefully avoided mentioning how frightened they’d been when Juan Rodriguez had suddenly appeared above them. That, in fact, was why Linda had refused to come today.

  They paused in the aspen grove, and Kim, the tomboy of the group, began passing around the canteen that was slung from her belt. Christie sucked at it thirstily.

  “I wish I had one of these.”

  “Maybe Miss Diana will buy one for you,” Kim suggested.

  “I don’t like to ask for things.…” Christie replied. For a moment she was tempted to tell her friends how frightened she was most of the time. Ever since the chick had died, and Diana had made her feel like it was her fault, she had tried to be extra careful, and yet every day she seemed to make some kind of mistake.

  Then, as if she’d read her thoughts, Susan Gillespie flopped down on the ground next to her and asked her a question: “What’s it like, living there?”

  Christie shrugged. “It’s okay, I guess,” she said, wanting neither to admit that she was frightened most of the time, nor to say anything bad about the Ambers. Besides, she wasn’t exactly sure what Susan wanted to know.

  “I heard Miss Edna’s a witch,” Susan said, cocking her head in the odd way of hers that always made people wonder if she was asking a question or stating a fact. Christie stared at her.

  “A witch?”

  Susan nodded. “I even heard she eats raw meat. Yuck!”

  “Well, she doesn’t,” Christie said. “She eats the same thing everybody else does.”

  “My mother says she’s crazy,” Kim put in. “Not crazy like the people at the loony bin. Just … strange.”

  Christie looked at her curiously. “Strange how?”

  “Well …” Kim began, but then hesitated.

  “Well, what?” Jay-Jay demanded, her voice petulant. “If you weren’t going to tell, you shouldn’t have started to!”

  Kim looked uncertainly from face to face, wishing she hadn’t begun. All her friends except Christie seemed to be challenging her. “Well,” she said again, then took the plunge. “Mom says Miss Edna used to lock Miss Diana up.”

  Suddenly the attention of the group was riveted on Kim.

  “Lock her up?” Susan breathed “Where?”

  “In the attic,” Kim said.

  Christie felt a sudden pang of fear. Each night, when Diana took her upstairs, the last thing she heard was the key turning in the lock. Was that why Diana locked her in? Because she’d been locked in, too? “Why would she do that?” Christie asked.

  “How should I know?” Kim shrugged. “But Mom said when Miss Diana was a little girl, Miss Edna used to lock her in her room, and she even had to send her to the hospital once, but that was when she was already grown-up.”

  “You mean Dr. Henry’s?” Jay-Jay asked doubtfully. She was sure Kim was making the whole thing up, but Kim shook her head vehemently.

  “That’s not a hospital. That’s just an office. Miss Edna made them take Miss Diana to the loony bin. But Mom said they should have locked Miss Edna up. She said if Miss Diana was crazy, it was Miss Edna’s faul
t.”

  “What was wrong with Miss Diana?” Susan asked. “I think she’s nice.”

  Kim shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe Miss Edna beat her up.”

  Christie frowned, remembering the spanking she’d received from Diana. “Why would she do that?”

  “Search me,” Kim said. She looked at her friends and rolled her eyes. “Mom said I was too young to understand.”

  The rest of the kids groaned sympathetically. “My dad always tells me that,” Jay-Jay said. Then she giggled. “Especially when I ask him about sex. Then he turns red and says it.”

  Agreeing that parents were strange people, the four girls continued on their way to the quarry. But although she walked along with the rest of them, Christie soon stopped listening to their chatter. Instead she was turning over in her mind the things they had said earlier.

  “Witch … weird … crazy … lock her up.” What did it all mean?

  They eventually arrived at the quarry, and for a long moment Christie could only stare at it.

  The pool was nearly round, and on the far side of it the hillside rose nearly straight upward. In the stillness of the morning the water made a perfect mirror, and the trees surrounding most of the pond were reflected on its quiet surface. Here and there a boulder protruded from the water.

  “You can dive off the farthest one,” Kim told her. “The others are only good for sunbathing. Come on.”

  Kim led her to a clearing, where the other two girls were already putting on their bathing suits. “Last one in the water’s crazier than Miss Edna!” Jay-Jay whooped. She dashed out of the clearing, and a moment later there was a splash as she hurled her chubby body into the water. Susan followed her, leaving Christie and Kim alone in the clearing. Christie looked around uneasily.

  “How do you know there isn’t anybody around?” she asked. Kim was peeling off her clothes.

  “Nobody’s ever around here. Sometimes we don’t even bother with our suits. Hurry up!”

  Christie started changing into her bathing suit.

  “Kim?”

  “What?” Kim was fidgeting and glancing out to see what the other girls were doing.

  “Do you think Miss Diana could be crazy?”