Casteel 04 Gates of Paradise

by V. C. Andrews

  Mrs. Avery was all tears, her frilly silk handkerchief, the one I had bought her on one of her birthdays, looking damp and wilted. She waved it like a flag of welcome as she walked down the steps and to the car as quickly as her arthritic limbs would permit.

  "Oh, Annie. Welcome home, dear." Aunt Fanny stepped back so she could lean in to hug and kiss me.

  "Hello, Mrs. Avery."

  "Your room is all ready . . cleaned and polished and aired out nice and proper."

  "Thank you."

  I turned toward the house to see George sauntering down the steps, moving faster and showing more emotion on his face than I could ever remember. His steel-rod-perfect posture was somewhat relaxed and the smile that usually died three quarters of its way across his lips now drew the corners of his mouth up so high he looked like a cat.

  "Welcome home, Annie." He extended his arm stiffly, but his long, thin fingers curled lovingly around mine when I took his hand.

  "Thank you, George. it's good to see you."

  Roland was at the door, a clean, bright, starched apron around his waist. He was carrying a vanilla sheet cake in his hands and brought it to the car to show me. The top of it read, WELCOME HOME ANNIE, GOD BLESS.

  "Roland, that was so kind of you!"

  "Est somethin' ta keep my mind occupied, Miss Annie. Welcome."

  "Thank you, Roland."

  Luke had my chair unfolded and waiting. The servants stepped back and watched as he reached in to scoop me up and out and into the chair. His face was so tight and serious, but when our eyes met, he smiled. It felt so good to be in his arms. I saw how proud he was about the firm way he held me. He was still my prince and I was still his princess.

  "You're getting good at this, Luke Casteel," I whispered.

  "Just a natural, I guess." He gashed a smile, his dark sapphire eyes brightening impishly, just the way Daddy's used to.

  "I'll get the bags," George said quickly as Luke started me toward the house. Roland handed the cake to Mrs. Avery and he helped Luke lift me up the steps.

  "Maybe we need one of them ramps, too," Aunt Fanny thought aloud.

  "No, Aunt Fanny. I'm going to be walking again before we could even get it built."

  "Tha's sure the way ta think, Miss Annie," Roland said.

  He and Luke brought me directly to my room. Never before did it look so wonderful and comfortable and warm to me. Tears of happiness ran over my cheeks. I was home, really home. I would sleep in my own bed, be surrounded by my own things. For a moment it was as if all that had happened had indeed been only a dream. That was the power of my room.

  But then my gaze went to the toy cottage and I thought about Troy. It was as if I had grown gigantic and I was looking back at where I had been. I had so much to thank him for. In his own way, he had rescued me, too.

  "Oh, Luke, it looks so wonderful. never take it for granted again."

  I gazed about hungrily, feasting my eyes on all my things. There were my pictures and art materials, organized as neatly as the day I had left them. The unfinished painting of Farthy I had begun shortly before the tragic accident was still on the easel. How wrong I had been about it, I thought. The colors were too bright, the world around it too soft and inviting. It was truly a picture drawn from a fantasy. No wonder Mommy wanted me to paint other things. She knew I was living in a dream world, and sometimes, living in dreams can be dangerous and tragic.

  The only thing that was truly accurate in the picture was Luke. There was nothing imaginary about the way he looked, but more important, I had put him where I most needed him--with me, coming for me, bringing me home.

  "I was all wrong about Farthy, Luke," I said. "My pictures were pure fantasy."

  "Don't blame yourself for wanting it to be more, Annie. If we don't permit ourselves to have dreams, the world can be awfully dreary. Maybe now we'll be more satisfied with what we have and who we are," he added.

  "Oh, Luke, I hope so."

  The commotion around us drove away regrets and dark thoughts. George brought in my things and Mrs. Avery turned down the bed. Everyone was chattering at once. Their excitement was infectious.

  "I will help Annie by myself now, ladies and gentlemen," Aunt Fanny announced.

  "Yes, ma'am," Roland said, and everyone left obediently. I saw from the way they responded that Aunt Fanny had indeed taken over here.

  "I'll look in on you later, Annie. Is there anything you want me to bring back?" Luke asked.

  "Nothing right now, Luke. Just yourself."

  "No problem with that. Matter of fact, you'll probably get tired of seeing me.Ill be like old wallpaper."

  "I can't imagine that." I squeezed his hand. He held his face close to mine and I thought he was going to kiss my cheek, but Aunt Fanny spoke up before he made up his mind to do so.

  "Well, if ya gain', Luke, go! We have work ta do."

  "Sorry. Bye, Annie."

  "I'll call Doc Williams so he kin come right ova as soon as possible in the mornn' and check ya out and tell us what we gotta do from here on in."

  "And see if you can get the hairdresser up here tomorrow, Aunt Fanny. I want to get my hair back to the way it was as quickly as i can."

  Aunt Fanny nodded.

  "But tell me, Annie, what made ya do such a thing?"

  "Tony talked me into it, convinced me it would make me feel more like a pretty young woman again. He kept talking about Mommy and how she had done it, and he had pictures of her with silvery blond hair. I missed her so that I suppose I was trying to get her back by looking like her, but I didn't know the sick reasons Tony had for wanting me to do it. He was trying to get me to look like my mother and like my grandmother Leigh. You were there; you heard why."

  Aunt Fanny's eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

  "I used ta hate Heaven fer not bringin' me ta Farthy ta live with her. I used ta think, here she is surrounded by all them sugar daddies and all that glitter and wealth, but now I understand what she went through. In some ways it musta been harder fer her there than it was in the Willies.

  "I neva realized the real reason she was marlin' all about tryin' to reunite the family," Aunt Fanny continued. "She needed her family more'n I did, even though she was surrounded by all them rich things. She was also surrounded by crazy loons, too. That grandmother all shut up in her own madness. Tony Tatterton . who knows what else went on there, And we left ya in their hands . . ." She shook her head.

  "It's not your fault, Aunt Fanny. Who could have known? I had the best doctors. Tony was buying everything I needed, including a special nurse. Only she turned out to be horrible."

  I described some of what had happened. Aunt Fanny listened, shaking her head and pressing her lips together every once in a while.

  "I wished she was here now. I'd wring her neck somethin terrible."

  "Aunt Fanny, you didn't seem all that surprised when Tony announced he was Mommy's real father. How did you know?"

  "Shortly before ma brotha Tom got hisself mauled ta death by a tiger in the circus, he wrote me a letta, tellin' me 'bout this conversation he and ma pa Luke had. Tom was all hot and bothered 'cause he found out that Heaven wasn't really Luke's daughter. He and Heaven was so close, ya see, it bothered him somethin' awful to learn this and he had to tell someone. Anyway, it seems that by the time ma daddy married yer grandma Leigh, she was already pregnant with Tony's baby. Luke told Tom that Leigh said Tony raped her . . . more'n once, maybe. Anyhow, that was why she done run away from that castle and all that money and ended up livin' in the Willies with Pa. She died during the birthin', so none of us knowed her. Heaven always used ta think Luke hated her 'cause his angel Leigh died givin' birth ta her, understand? I guess there was a lot more ta it, especially when ya consider Luke knew Heaven wasn't his'n."

  "So Tony is my real grandfather, and he didn't just say those things at the end to get me to stay," I concluded, the words now falling with greater weight on my ears.

  "It looks that way, Annie," she said, and then misread t
he troubled look on my face. "Now jist becuz he's loose in the head don't mean ya goin' be, Annie."

  "No, I wasn't thinking about that, Aunt Fanny. I was thinking about Mommy and how hard it must have been for her to discover all this, too. She never let anyone know, though, did she? And neither did you."

  "No. I neva told nobody 'cept that no account lawya I had during the custody hearin'. It didn't come out 'cause me and yer ma made a deal. We bought and sold Drake betwixt us jist like we was bought and sold." She looked down, ashamed.

  "Whatever you did in the past is over and finished, Aunt Fanny. You've more than made up for it now."

  "Why, do ya mean that, Annie darlin'?" I nodded. "Even havin' Luke Junior with ya pa?"

  "We'll all make the best of what we are and what we have."

  "Well, ain't ya a wonderful young lady." Her face turned sad. "But now ya know I ain't really ya aunt."

  "Oh no, Aunt Fanny. You will always be my aunt. I don't care what the blood relationships are."

  "Well, I love ya jist as much as I could even if ya was blood related, Annie. I love ya more; I love ya like a daughter, an' Luke and ya are still half brotha, half sista."

  "Yes," I said, and looked of through my window at the roof of the gazebo below. I couldn't help thinking about how much had changed since the accident. My mother hadn't really been a Casteel, even though she had been brought up as one, had lived in that shack and had thought Toby and Annie Casteel were her true grandparents. Even though these revelations were painful and disturbing for me now, I couldn't even begin to imagine what the effect must have been on my mother when she finally learned the truth. It was like losing her whole family in an instant and suddenly being adopted by strangers.

  And then suddenly to be cast as a Tatterton and have to live in that mansion filled with memories that had made her true father jealous and disturbed. No wonder she fled from it with little Drake in her arms. Drake! He was not really my uncle, but surely he didn't know, and wouldn't unless Tony babbled the truth to him one day in a fit of madness. I was not eager to tell him. The pain of this revelation must remain enclosed within my heart, I thought.

  I realized I had lost not only my parents, I had also lost my heritage, one of the important things that had linked me with Luke. We no longer shared a past filled with rich stories about life in the Willies, stories about our great-grandfather Toby. I had no past now because mine was linked to Tony Tatterton and I didn't want that link; I didn't want to remember anything he had told me about his father and grandfather.

  I was truly about to start a new life and be someone different. Who would I be? How would it change the way Luke and I were with each other? The future was so unclear, and more frightening than ever. I had been dropped into a different sort of maze, and I had no idea how long I would wander about trying to find my way through it. I longed for someone like Troy, someone to take my hand and to guide me. Aunt Fanny was more wonderful than I had ever imagined she could be, but even she was overwhelmed by all that had happened.

  I couldn't call for Daddy or go to Mommy. And Drake was so infatuated with Tony Tatterton and his position in Tony's enterprises, he was no longer as dependable as he used to be. I had lost the uncle who had been more of a big brother to me, lost him to the glitter of wealth and power. At this moment Tony seemed like the Devil and Drake like one of his victims.

  My only bright and hopeful thoughts came when I thought about Luke. I would tell him how I felt and what my fears were. But would I be too much for him? Would he be overwhelmed by the

  responsibility of being a comfort and support to someone who was so desperate and alone? I had become much more than he had bargained for; that was certain.

  Aunt Fanny helped me change into a nightgown and get into my bed . . . my own downy-soft bed with lilac-scented sheets. Mrs. Avery returned to put away my things and then fluttered about straightening this and dusting that until Aunt Fanny told her to let me get some rest.

  "Luke and I will pick up some of the things ya'll need, like one of them fancy bed tables."

  "And a walker. I want to start tomorrow morning."

  "Right. Okay, darlin', welcome home where ya belong." She kissed me on the forehead and turned to leave.

  "Aunt Fanny."

  "Yes."

  "Thank you, Aunt Fanny, for bringing me home." She shook her head, her eyes gleaming with tears, and quickly left my room.

  I stared at my bedroom doorway half in expectation, half in vain hope. If only Mommy would come through that door once more. If only she and I could have one of our talks again. How I needed her, needed her wisdom and her comfort. Perhaps, if I closed my eyes and wished real hard, I would hear her footsteps in the hall, her soft, warm laugh and then see her come bursting through my doorway.

  She would throw open my windows and raise the shades. "Rise and shine, be happy to be alive and well. Don't waste a moment, for every moment is precious, . Annie. Every moment is a gift, and you don't want to appear ungrateful, do you?"

  "Oh, Mother, I'm still crippled. My legs are like old, water-soaked logs."

  "Nonsense," I heard her say. "Life is what you make it. Now you tell those legs of yours they've had a long enough vacation. It's time to go back to work, understand." *

  Was that the sound of my laughter? I felt her hands on my legs, moving over them, magically restoring their strength.

  "All right," she said, rising from the bed. Then she was drifting away, becoming a shadow.

  "Mommy? Mom . Mommy!" She was gone, and the sun was blocked by a large, dark cloud. My room was gray and dismal; there were shadows everywhere. "Mommy!"

  "Annie?"

  "What . . . who . . . Luke?"

  He was standing at the side of my bed. "Are you all right? I heard you scream." "Oh Luke . . . please, hold me, hold me," I

  cried. Quickly he sat on my bed and embraced me. I buried my face in his chest and sobbed while he stroked my hair gently and whispered, "It's all right. I'm here. It's all right."

  Then I felt his lips on my forehead. His kisses of comfort brought a tingling to my breasts as I felt his warm breath on my cheeks. His heartbeat thumped against mine.

  "I guess I had a bad dream," I said, a little embarrassed now. "And when I woke up, I thought Mrs. Broadfield was standing there. She was so mean to me, Luke. She would force me into baths of scalding water. My skin would turn as red as a rose in full bloom and take hours to cool down."

  He touched my neck and nodded.

  "My poor Annie. How you suffered, and I wasn't there to help you. I hate myself for being so stupid."

  "It wasn't your fault, Luke. You didn't know."

  We were still holding onto one another, neither wanting to let go. Finally he lowered me back to my pillow. He sat there, looking down at me.

  "Annie, I--"

  I touched his lips and he kissed my fingers. It made my body sing and come to life.

  "I'd better get back to bed," he said.

  "Wait. Stay with me a little longer. Stay with me until I fall asleep again. Please."

  "I will. Close your eyes."

  I did. He brought my blanket back over my bosom and smoothed it out under my neck. I felt his fingers travel over my face and down the sides of my hair. "Luke--"

  "Just sleep, Annie. I'm here."

  Sleep finally came again, this time soothing and restful. And when I awoke with the sunlight peeping through my window, I found Luke asleep at my feet, curled up like a little boy. For a moment I forgot what had brought him to my bedside. As soon as I moved, his eyelids trembled and he opened the t and gazed up at me. The realization that he was in my bed struck him like a pail of ice water. He sat up quickly.

  "Annie!" He looked about.

  "Those are very cute pajamas, Luke." "What? Oh . must have fallen asleep. I'm sorry." He got up quickly.

  "It's all right, Luke." I couldn't help smiling at him. The pants of his pajamas were a little baggy.

  "I . . I'll be back after I get dressed,
" he said, and quickly left the room.

  Shortly after I awoke in the morning, old Doc Willia, is arrived. He had been our family doctor for as long as I could remember. He was a short, stocky man with curly peach-colored hair that was mostly gray now. When he walked into my room, he greeted me with a wide smile that made me feel relaxed. I didn't feel I was being prodded and poked like some laboratory specimen, and most importantly, there was no nurse hovering over his shoulder and scowling at my every question.

  "Your pressure's good and your heart sounds fine, Annie. Of course, I gotta get hold of the X rays and reports from Boston. I'll do that right away, but I don't see any reason for you not to be walking."

  "I started to stand on my own and even took a step or two, Dr. Williams," I volunteered. "But they didn't want me to continue trying to walk."

  "They didn't?" His eyes grew small and he pinched his chin between his thumb and forefinger as he stared at me. "I can see your reflexes are sharp. You have feelings in your limbs. Most of your problem is emotional now. They had no reason to confine you to a wheelchair and prolong your invalid state."

  "So there's no reason not to continue trying to walk?"

  "Not that I can tell. Just don't try to do too much and get yourself exhausted. Your body will be the best judge of that. I'll return soon as I get the information from Boston. Welcome home, Annie. I'm sure you'll be better soon."

  "Thank you, Doctor." He saw the tears in my eyes and his face became fatherly, soft, his smile widening and his eyes brightening with love and concern.

  "You know how I felt about your parents and how I feel about you. You've got to get strong now; you're going to have many new responsibilities." He pinched my cheek gently, the way he always did, and left.

  Soon after, Luke swept into the room.

  "Oh, I'm sorry," he said, turning about to leave again. "I thought they had gotten you up and about for breakfast."