“My father is rich, and lives in a huge, beautiful house overlooking the coast. He doesn’t love me, but he feels obligated toward me, and usually gives me whatever I want, so I didn’t mind staying with him. Plus, I got to spend time with my brother, who- I think I’ve told you before- is the only person in the family who gives a damn about me. I think I would prefer to live with my Dad, if it weren’t for my shrew of a stepmother. Still, that last summer, I didn’t even mind my evil stepmother, because Laurel was there.”
“Is Laurel the one you mentioned at Christmas- the brilliant artist?” I asked.
“That’s right,” she replied. “My stepmother and her mother are best friends- they call themselves sisters- and that summer, her mother went on vacation in Europe, leaving Laurel to stay with us. I’d never met anyone like Laurel. She was the first genuinely innocent person I’d ever met. She was very open and honest- perhaps too open. She wore her heart on her sleeve, and people like that are especially vulnerable. If someone said the smallest, unkind word to her, she would become almost hysterical, and if she was worried, she would refuse to eat, and become sick. My brother was always able to calm her down in times like these, when I couldn’t. I’m grateful, even now, because I know my brother is still doing everything he can to help her.
“I don’t remember how our relationship started. One day, she seemed to be curious about me, the next day we were friends, and then we were declaring our undying love. We were too young to have such intense feelings for each other, and too young to handle the consequences, but, then, we were too young to care. I know I sound very old, and I’m only 16, but so much has changed since we were happy together, that it seems as though a million years have passed.”
“What happened to make everything change?” I asked.
“Laurel and I were naïve, and we decided that the world should know about our love. Of course, we weren’t stupid enough to shout it from the rooftops, but we decided to tell someone we thought we could trust.”
“Your brother?” I asked.
“Yes. He completely freaked out, and told everyone in the family, hoping someone could ‘help’ us. I’d thought he would always be on my side, but I completely misjudged him. Laurel’s mother flew home from Paris, and soon afterward, I learned that Laurel had been sent here. My stepmother wanted to send me here, too, but Dad isn’t an idiot. He convinced my Mom that places like this are just huge scams run by sociopathic quacks.”
“Then why are you here, now?”
“I got into a fight with my stepdad, and he hit me. My mom thought it would be best to send me to live with my dad, because obviously it was my fault. Step-shrew, however, doesn’t want me in her house until I’ve been ‘cured,’ and Dad caved in to her, of course.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be; it isn’t your fault. Anyway, Laurel was locked up here for a full semester. I spent Christmas with Dad that year, and that’s when I saw her again.
“I barely recognized her, Miranda. She had the same face, same eyes, and same hair, but she looked completely lost. She didn’t smile, or laugh, or cry freely, anymore. She was this docile little thing instead. She told me that she couldn’t see me anymore, for my own good.
“I tried to get her to tell me what had happened to her, but she just said that Dr. Caleb was a brilliant man who had saved her soul. She let a few things slip, about having the ‘demons of perversion,’ driven out of her. It all sounded completely insane, but she seemed to think it was totally natural.”
Alice had been speaking very quickly, in a matter-of-fact way, but now she stopped, put her hands over her face, and a shudder ran through her. When she put her hands down, her eyes were filled with tears.
“Dr. Caleb did something to my Laurel, and whatever it was, it killed something in her. If killing Dr. Caleb could bring her back, I wouldn’t hesitate.”
“But killing Dr. Caleb can’t help her,” I said firmly.
“I know. It might help you, though, if I did kill him. You’re a lot stronger than Laurel was, and a lot more guarded with your feelings, but Dr. Caleb has found a big weakness in you, and your health is lousy. You’re vulnerable, like she was.”
“No matter what happens to my health, I won’t be vulnerable to him. I will always have my mind to tell me that he is wrong,” I said.
“But the weaker you become, the more vulnerable your mind becomes. You need to get mad, Miranda, and keep fighting him. Keep healthy, just to spite him, and show him how strong you are, and that he can’t break you.”
“Anger won’t make me stronger. I don’t have the energy to spend on hateful emotions,” I rebuffed.
“How can you remain so calm, and not rage against what is being done to you? How can you feel anything but disgust for a man who would take a girl and abuse her beyond recognition?”
“I suppose I’m comforted by the knowledge that I would never let anger and hatred overwhelm me to the point that I become like Dr. Caleb,” I said.
Alice sighed and shook her head. “You win. Still, promise me that you will try to take better care of yourself. You’re so much better than he is, that I’d hate to see you suffer while he triumphs.”
“I will try,” I promised.
“Good girl,” Alice said, as she took my tray and began to leave. “Oh, I brought you some medicine, in case you can’t sleep.”
“Take it with you. I’m sure I can sleep without it,” I said.
#
I did, indeed, sleep well that night. I was still frightened of Mary, and worried I might have another dream about Mark, but I felt a sense of moral satisfaction in my new resolve to resist Dr. Caleb’s tactics, and this was comforting enough to help me sleep, undisturbed. I rose later than I usually did, with that satisfyingly groggy feeling one gets after a full night’s sleep.
I had a relatively empty schedule the next day. It was Saturday, so there were no lessons, and no activities were planned due to the number of illnesses. I helped tend to the sick, and spent some time talking to James, who was in the infirmary, until he fell asleep. I spent rest of the morning in the calefactory, playing cards with Alice. Alice and I grew bored with playing cards, so I offered to teach her to play a simple piece on the piano. Alice’s hands were much more awkward than her feet, so I was correcting her hand position when Dr. Caleb walked into the calefactory, looking tired and irritable. When he saw Alice and I sitting on the piano bench together, with my hand touching hers, the perfect façade of patience and benevolence he usually wore seemed to snap. He grabbed my wrist, and pulled my hand away from Alice’s so forcefully that I almost fell off of the bench.
“What do you think you are doing?” he asked in a low, dangerous voice.
Alice stood and said, “she was just teaching me how to play. Nothing happened. Let her go.”
He ignored Alice and gripped my wrist even tighter, “you know you aren’t allowed to touch, or even be that close to each other.”
“It was totally innocent,” Alice insisted.
“You enjoy leading others to temptation, don’t you, Alice? It’s too late for anyone to save you, but Miranda still has a chance. You should stay away from her.”
Alice looked like she wanted to respond, but her eyes were fixed on my wrist, and she kept silent.
“Please stop,” I said quietly. “You’re hurting me.”
His cold blue eyes darkened, but he dropped my wrist. I almost wished he hadn’t done so, because Pastor Smith, along with Julian and a younger boy, named Will, came into the room.
“Will is feeling better,” Pastor Smith said, seeming oblivious to the tension in the room. “I thought that perhaps, since our schedule has been so interrupted, we could all watch a movie.”
“Fine,” Dr. Caleb said, and turned away from him to face me again. “Miranda, I want you spend this week thinking very carefully about the danger your lifestyle has put you in,” he said. “Next Saturday, we will meet in my office, to discuss what you’ve learned.”
“That will have to wait,” he said. “In light of your recent rule violations, your phone privileges are revoked.”
He smiled sadistically and left the room. Alice cast a glance at the others, but they ignored the exchange as they set up the DVD player.
She stepped close to me and whispered, “this is bad, Miranda. I just know he has something awful in mind for you.”
“I know,” I whispered in reply.
Chapter 13
Prayers
The Hierophant
That night, the benefit I’d gained from my previous night’s sleep was lost. I lay awake all night, wondering what Dr. Caleb had planned for me as I listened to Mary scream with renewed vigor. Sometimes I thought I may be imagining the threat Dr. Caleb had made, because of what Alice had told me about him, but the bruises around my wrist were very real. I had to find a way to contact my parents. I was determined to tell them what he had done to me.
The next morning, James appeared at breakfast. He said he was feeling well again, but his usually bright eyes were shadowed with dark circles, and his usual good humor was absent. James, Alice and I sat together, as usual, but we were unable to make conversation. The three of us, who were usually able to cheer each other in the worst of times, sat side by side, silently picking at our food. Breakfast was almost over before anyone spoke.
“You look terrible, Miranda,” James said.
“What else is new?” I replied.
“You should try to eat something,” Alice said. “Remember your promise.”
“I’m not hungry,” I replied. “You and James aren’t eating, either.”
“Well, James had the flu, so I imagine he’s not up to eating much, yet,” she said. “You need to keep up your strength, though. You don’t know what Dr. Caleb has in store for you, this week.”
“What does that mean?” James asked.
“Dr. Caleb threatened Miranda, yesterday, after yanking her off of the piano bench and bruising her wrist.”
I thought James would deny what had happened, or try to defend Dr. Caleb as he usually did, but instead he just said, “can I see your wrist?”
I shook my head and gestured surreptitiously toward Dr. Caleb, who was approaching our group.
“You three should hurry, or you will be late for chapel,” he said.
Without reply, the three of us stood, put our trays away, and walked toward the chapel together. We were silent again, as we walked across the sunny courtyard. When we got to the chapel door, James stopped walking, and stared up at the door with a stony expression. He took a step backward, and seemed about to run away.
“James, what’s the matter?” I asked.
“Sorry, my mind was elsewhere. I’m still pretty tired, from being ill.”
“You almost looked scared,” Alice observed, “and nothing scares you.”
“I get scared,” James countered, but he squared his shoulders and strode forward, opening the door for Alice and I.
“Everyone gets scared, sometimes,” I remarked as we filed into one of the rough, oak pews in the back row, “but you’re a lot braver than I am, James. I’m still scared of Mary.”
“That was an idiotic story,” James said sullenly. “I’m sorry I ever told it.”
Alice gave me a worried glance, but we didn’t say anything else, and Ms. Sweeny, who’d recovered the night before, began to play the little organ.
Because many of us were still unwell, the service that morning was short, and Pastor Smith’s sermon was unusually mild. Without his usual fire-and-brimstone sermon to add to my anxiety, I was able to appreciate how peaceful the little stone church could be, tucked away on its tiny hill and surrounded by the grandeur of mountains. I was sitting next to the window, and, as the little organ swelled with its solemn hymns, my attention was drawn to the scenic wonders of nature.
The mountains surrounded us, not like the walls of a prison, but like the fold of a great curtain. The mountains, adorned with dark pine and white granite, seemed to be decked in velvet and lace. They were old mountains, and majestically rolled toward the heavens, inspiring a sense of the sublime appropriate to my current church setting. I felt that, if I could just reach out, and pull back the great curtain, I could reveal the gates of heaven.
The organ stilled, but the last notes rang in the air, over the chapel, and over the mountains themselves. Pastor Smith’s rich baritone emerged from the sound.
“Dear heavenly Father,
We are all flawed,
And all lost in sin,
Help us to find,
A path to you.
Help us to accept,
Your gift of forgiveness.
Help us to understand
Your love.”
I took the cross that Clara had given me and swung it on the chain, watching it glitter in the light coming in from the window. Her words to me as she gave it to me, “God is love,” came to my mind, and I smiled a little at the bittersweet feelings this evoked. I touched the cool, silver, and I felt something almost like happiness.
“As we accept your love,
Teach us to love you in return,
Teach us to love with;
All our hearts,
All our souls,
And all our minds,
And help us to love each other,
In Christian fellowship.
In Christ’s name we pray,
Amen.”
The organ swelled again, playing a more joyful tune, and we all held hands to sing the final prayer.
When we filed back out of the chapel and into the rare sunlight, Alice, James and I were all in better spirits, and we talked to each other more openly.
“Have either of you seen Julian this morning?” James asked, smiling a little bit of his old smile. “He didn’t catch the flu, did he?”
“He was fine yesterday,” I said. “I haven’t seen him this morning, though. Maybe he got sick overnight.”
“I hope not. Today is his birthday,” James said. “I’d hoped we could do something nice for him.”
“I’m sure that Julian is fine. We can visit him later, sneak him some sweets, and sing happy birthday,” Alice said. “We need to discuss what Dr. Caleb said, though, Miranda. Dr. Caleb threatened you, and I’m not willing to take that lightly. The question is, what do we do about it?”
“What can we do?” I asked. “I can’t tell my parents, and no one here will believe me. I’m sure he’s already told the councilors that I’m in trouble, and if I say something now, it will just seem like I’m trying to get back at him.”
“What about the old ideas of scaling the walls and hitchhiking?” Alice said.
“We never took that idea seriously, Alice, and this is serious,” James said, surprising me. “We don’t want to get her in more trouble.”
We had been walking back across the courtyard, when James stopped walking and stared at the men’s cloisters. There, Julian was struggling to close the door, while managing several large suitcases. We ran over to help him.
“Thanks,” Julian said breathlessly to James, who took the largest suitcase. “This is too much to carry all at once, but I can’t risk making multiple trips.”
“Are you running away?” Alice demanded.
“Of course not,” Julian said, “Today is my 18th birthday, and I can leave if I want. I’d just rather avoid any unpleasant confrontations.”
“We should hurry, then,” I said. “I’m certain that Dr. Caleb and Pastor Smith will want to return to their offices soon, and that means they may pass this way.”
We each took a piece of luggage and quickly made our way to the parlor. James helped us, but he seemed upset, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he walked.
“Julian, why are you leaving?” he asked.
“I promised my parents that I would try, and I did. I’m not getting any better, and I can’t stand another minute in this godforsaken place. I asked
if I could make my phone call early yesterday, and I called my cousin, who lives nearby. I’m glad everyone was too busy to listen at the door, when I made my call. I told my cousin I would meet her at the end of the dirt road, and she’ll drive me home.”
“Grace is still sick,” Alice said. “Are you leaving without saying goodbye?”
“I wish things were different,” said Julian. “I’ve written her a note, though. Can you find a way to give it to her, without anyone knowing?” he held out a folded sheet of paper to Alice.
“Of course, now Miranda and James know,” Alice said, rolling her eyes as she took it.
“You won’t tell either, will you?” Julian asked James and me in a pleading tone. “I feel terrible enough about leaving her here, alone, and I don’t want to get her in trouble.”
“You aren’t just friends,” James said.
Julian shook his head.
“If your relationship is discovered, she could get thrown out of the program,” James said. “You know we can’t form romantic relationships, here. It can be detrimental to the recovery process.”
“Well, I won’t be around to slow her recovery anymore,” Julian said with a sad smile. “I was a hopeless case from the beginning, but she wants to stay. I respect her choice. You won’t take that choice from her, will you?”
James looked at the dark red parlor carpet for a while, then shook his head. “I won’t tell, but if anyone asks me about it, I won’t lie, either.”
“Thank you,” Julian said. “And you, Miranda?”
“I shall take the secret to my grave,” I said solemnly.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to know you better, while I was here.” Julian said. “I think you’ve been busy with your own battle, though, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” I replied, “but when I leave, maybe we can get in touch.”
“I’d like that. But, I warn you, you may not recognize me when you see me next,” Julian said with the first genuine laugh I’d heard in a long time, high and pure, like the ringing of bells.
Mephisto Waltz Page 23
