Ruby l-1

by V. C. Andrews

  "Be praised," Nina said."

  "That ribbon," Mama Dede said. "It's been to the other world and back. You keep it precious, as precious as Rosary beads, and maybe someday, you'll make your sister better." She stood up and turned toward Nina. "Go light me a candle at Marie Laveates grave."

  Nina nodded.

  "I'll do that, Mama."

  "Child," she said, turning back to me, "the good and the bad, they are sisters, too. Sometimes they twist around each other like strands of rope and make knots in our hearts. Unravel the knots in your own heart first; then help your sister unravel hers."

  She turned and walked out through the curtain. The drums got louder.

  "Let's go home," Nina said. "Now there's much to do."

  When we returned, things hadn't changed very much, except that Edgar had added another dozen or so names to the list of those who had called. Daphne was still resting in her suite and Daddy was still in Uncle Jean's room. But suddenly, a little while later, Daphne emerged looking refreshed and elegant, ready to greet those good friends who were coming to console her and Daddy. She got him to come down to have a little dinner.

  I sat quietly and listened while Daphne lectured him firmly about getting himself together.

  "This isn't the time to fall apart, Pierre. We have some terrible burdens now and I don't intend to carry them on my shoulders alone the way I've been carrying so many other things," she said. He nodded obediently, looking like a little boy again. "Get a hold of yourself," she ordered. "We have people to greet later and I don't want to add anything to the embarrassment we already have to endure."

  "Shouldn't we worry more about Gisselle's condition than how it's all embarrassing us?" I said sharply, unable to contain my anger. I hated the way she spoke down to Daddy, who was already weak and defeated.

  "How dare you speak to me that way," she snapped, pulling herself up in the chair.

  "I don't mean to be insolent, but—"

  "My advice to you, young lady, is to walk the straightest, most narrow line you can these next few weeks. Gisselle hasn't been the same since your arrival and I'm sure the bad things you've done and influenced her to do had something to do with what's happened now."

  "That's not true! None of that is true!" I cried. I looked at Daddy.

  "Let's not bicker amongst ourselves," he pleaded. He turned to me with his eyes bloodshot from hours and hours of sorrowful crying. "Not now. Please, Ruby. Just listen to your mother." He gazed at Daphne. "At times like this, she is the strongest member of our family. She's always been," he said in a tired, defeated voice.

  Daphne beamed with pride and satisfaction. For the remainder of our short meal, we all ate in silence. Later that evening, the Andreas did arrive but without Beau. Other friends followed. I retreated to my room and prayed that God would forgive me for the vengeance I had sought. Then I went to sleep, but for endless hours, I dwelled fitfully on the rim of sleep, never finding the peaceful oblivion I desperately sought.

  An odd thing happened to me at school the next day. The drama and impact of the horrible automobile accident put the entire student body into a state of mourning. Everyone was subdued. Girls who knew Martin well were in tears, comforting each other in the hallways and bathrooms. Dr. Storm got on the public address system and offered prayers and condolences. Our teachers made us do busywork, many unable to carry on as usual and sensitive to the fact that the students weren't with it either.

  But the odd thing was I became someone to console and not be ignored or despised. Student after student came up to me to talk and express his or her hope everything would turn out well for Gisselle. Even her good friends, Claudine and Antoinette especially, sought my company and seemed repentant for the pranks and the nasty things they had done and said about me.

  Most of all, Beau was at my side. He was a great source of comfort. As one of Martin's best friends, he was the one the other boys came to when they wanted to express their sorrow. At lunch, most of the other students gathered around us, everyone speaking in soft, subdued voices.

  After school, Beau and I went directly to the hospital and found Daddy having a cup of coffee in the lounge. He had just met with the specialists.

  "Her spine was damaged. It's left her paralyzed from the waist down. All of the other injuries will heal well," he said.

  "Is there any possibility she'll be able to walk?" Beau asked softly.

  Daddy shook his head. "Most unlikely. She's going to need lots of therapy, and lots of tender loving care," he said. "I'm arranging for a live-in nurse for a while after she comes home."

  "When can we see her, Daddy?" I asked.

  "She's still in intensive care. Only immediate family can see her," he said, looking at Beau. Beau nodded.

  I started for the intensive care room.

  "Ruby," Daddy called. I turned. "She doesn't know about Martin," he said. "She thinks he's just badly injured. I didn't want to tell her yet. She's had enough bad news."

  "Okay, Daddy," I said, and entered. The nurse showed me to Gisselle's bed. The sight of her lying there, her face all banged up and the IV tubes in her arm made my heart ache. I swallowed back my tears and approached. She opened her eyes and looked up at me.

  "How are you, Gisselle?" I asked softly.

  "How do I look?" She smirked and turned away. Then she turned back. "I guess you're happy you didn't get into the car with us. I guess you want to say, I told you so, huh?"

  "No," I said. "I'm sorry this happened. I feel just terrible about it."

  "Why? Now no one will wonder which one of us is you and which one is me. I'm the one who can't walk. That's easy to tell," she said. "I'm the one who can't walk." Her chin quivered.

  "Oh, Gisselle, you'll walk again. I'll do everything I can to help you," I promised.

  "What can you do . . . mumble some Cajun prayer over my legs? The doctors were here; they told me the ugly truth."

  "You can't give up hope. Never give up hope. That's what . . ." I was going to say, that's what Grandmère Catherine taught me, but I hesitated.

  "Easy for you to say. You walked in here and you'll walk out," she moaned. Then she took a deep breath and sighed. "Have you seen Martin? How's he doing?"

  "No, I haven't seen him. I came right to see you," I said and bit down on my lower lip.

  "I remember telling him he was going too fast, but he thought it was funny. Just like you, he thought everything was funny all of a sudden. I bet he's not laughing now. You go see him,"" she said. "And be sure he knows what's happened to me. Will you go?"

  I nodded.

  "Good. I hope he feels terrible; I hope . . . oh, what's the difference what I hope?" She gazed up at me. "You're happy this happened to me, aren't you?"

  "No. I never wanted this much. I . . ."

  "What do you mean, 'this much'? You wanted some-thing?" She studied my face a moment. "Well?"

  "Yes," I said. "I admit it. You were so mean to me, got me into so much trouble and did so many bad things to me, I went to see a voodoo queen."

  "What?"

  "But she told me it wasn't my fault. It was yours because you had so much hate in your heart," I added quickly.

  "I don't care what she said. I'll tell Daddy what you did and he'll hate you forever. Maybe now he'll send you back to the swamps."

  "Is that what you want, Gisselle?"

  She thought a moment and then smiled, but such a tight, small smile, it sent chills down my spine.

  "No. I want you to make it up to me. From now on until I say, you make it up to me."

  "What do you want me to do?"

  "Anything I ask," she said. "You better."

  "I already said I would help you, Gisselle. And I'm going to do it because I want to, not because you threaten me," I told her.

  "You're making the pain come back into my head," she moaned.

  "I'm sorry. I'll go."

  "Not until I tell you to go," she said. I stood there, looking down at her. "All right. Go. But go to Martin and
tell him what I told you to tell him and then come back later tonight and tell me what he said. Go on," she commanded, and grimaced with pain. I turned and started away. "Ruby!" she called.

  "What?"

  "You know the only way we can be twins again?" she asked. I shook my head. She smiled. "I'll tell you. Get crippled," she said, and closed her eyes.

  I lowered my head and walked out. Mama Dede's prescription was going to be much more difficult than I could ever imagine. Unravel the sisters of hate and love in Gisselle's heart? I might as well try to hold back night, I thought, and went to join Daddy and Beau who waited in the lounge.

  Two days later Gisselle was told about Martin. The news struck her dumb. It was as if she believed that all that had happened to her, the injuries, the paralysis, was nothing more than a dream that would soon end. The doctors would give her some pills and send her home to resume her life, just the way she had been living it. But when she was told Martin was dead and in fact the funeral was being held that very day, she withered, grew pale and small, and sealed her lips. She didn't cry in front of Daphne or Daddy and when they left and I remained with her, she didn't cry in front of me either. But as soon as I started away to go with my parents to the funeral, I heard her first sob. I ran back to her.

  "Gisselle," I said, stroking her hair. She spun around and looked up at me, but not with gratitude for my returning to comfort her, but with blazing, angry eyes.

  "He liked you better, too. He did!" she whined. "Whenever we were together, he talked about you. He was the one who wanted you to come along with us. And now he's dead," she added, as if that were somehow my fault.

  "I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do to change it," I told her.

  "Go back to your voodoo queen," she snapped, and turned away from me.

  I stood there a moment and then hurried to catch up with Daddy and Daphne.

  Martin's funeral was enormous. Many of the students attended. Beau and Martin's teammates were the pallbearers. I felt sick and horrible inside and was glad when Daddy took my hand and led us away.

  It rained all that day and the next few. I thought the grayness would never leave our hearts and lives, but one morning I awoke to sunshine and when I arrived at school, I found the cloud of sorrow had moved off. Everyone was back into his or her niche. Claudine appeared to take over the leadership role Gisselle once enjoyed, but I didn't care, for I spent little time with Gisselle's friends. My interest was only in doing well in school and spending whatever time I could with Beau.

  Finally, the day arrived when Gisselle could be brought home from the hospital. She had begun some therapy there, but, according to what Daphne said, she was still quite uncooperative. Daddy hired the private nurse, a Mrs. Warren, who had worked in veterans' hospitals and was very familiar with patients who had suffered paralyzing injuries. She was about fifty years old, tall with short dark brown hair and hard, almost manly features. I knew she had strong forearms, for I saw the way her veins bulged the first time she lifted Gisselle to make her more comfortable. She brought some of the military manner with her, barking orders at the servants and snapping at Gisselle as if she were a recruit and not an invalid. I was there when Gisselle complained, but Mrs. Warren wasn't one to tolerate it.

  "The time for feeling sorry for yourself has passed," she declared. "Now's the time to work on getting yourself as self-sufficient as possible. You're not going to become a blob in that chair either, so get those thoughts out of your head. Before I'm finished, you'll learn how to do most everything for yourself and you will. Is that understood?"

  Gisselle just stared at her a moment and then turned to me.

  "Ruby, hand me my hand mirror," she said. "I want to fix my hair. I'm sure some of the boys will be over to see me once they've learned I'm home."

  "Get it yourself," Mrs. Warren snapped. "Just wheel yourself over and get it."

  "Ruby will get it for me," Gisselle countered. "Won't you, Ruby?" She fixed her steely eyes on me.

  I went for the mirror.

  "You're not helping her by doing that," Mrs. Warren said.

  "I know," I said. But I brought Gisselle the mirror anyway.

  "She'll turn the lot of you into her slaves. I warn you."

  "Ruby doesn't mind being my slave. We're sisters, right, Ruby?" Gisselle said. "Tell her," she commanded.

  "I don't mind," I said.

  "Well, I do. Now get out of here while I'm conducting the therapy," she snapped at me.

  "I'll tell Ruby when to leave and when not to leave," Gisselle shouted. "Ruby, stay."

  "But, Gisselle, if Mrs. Warren thinks it's better for me to go, I'd better go."

  Gisselle folded her arms and peered at me with narrow slits. "Don't you move from that spot," she ordered.

  "Now see here . . ." Mrs. Warren said.

  "All right," Gisselle said, smiling. "You're excused now, Ruby. Oh, and please call Beau and tell him I'm expecting him in an hour."

  "Make that two hours," Mrs. Warren advised. I nodded and left. For once I agreed wholeheartedly with Daphne: life was going to get far more complicated and unpleasant with Gisselle as an invalid. The accident, her horrible injury, and the aftermath had done nothing to change her personality. Just as before, she still thought everything was coming to her, even more so now. I realized I should never have confessed to her. She had only taken the opportunity to make me into her slave.

  If I had any idea that Gisselle's condition would make her feel less secure about herself when it came to boys, that idea popped out of my head the moment I saw how she reacted when Beau and some of his teammates arrived to visit her. Like some empress who was too divine to have her feet touch the earth, she insisted Beau carry her from room to room, place to place rather than wheel her about. She gathered the young men around her, asking Todd Lambert to massage her feet as she spoke, mainly to complain about Mrs. Warren and the terrible ordeal everyone was putting her through.

  "I swear," she said. "If you boys don't visit me every day, I'll go stark raving mad. Will you? Will you promise?" she asked, batting her eyelids at them. Of course, they did. While they were still there, she had to order me about, demanding glasses of water or a pillow for her back, snapping at me as though I really were her little slave.

  Afterward, when Beau had carried her back upstairs to her room and each and every one of the boys had been given a kiss good-bye, he and I finally had a moment alone.

  "I can see it's going to be particularly hard on you from now on," he said.

  "I don't care."

  "She doesn't deserve you," he said softly, and leaned toward me to kiss me good-bye. Just at that moment, we heard Daphne's footsteps clicking up the corridor. She marched out of the shadows firmly, but some of the darkness still hovered around her furious eyes. She paused a few feet away from us, her arms folded under her bosom, and glared.

  "I want to see you this instant, Ruby," she said. "Beau, I'd like you to leave."

  "Leave?"

  "This instant," she said, her voice cracking like a bullwhip.

  "Is there something wrong?" he asked softly.

  "I'll discuss that with your parents," she said. He looked at me and then walked out quickly to join his waiting buddies.

  "What's wrong?" I asked Daphne.

  "Follow me," she ordered. She pivoted and marched back down the hallway. I tagged along, my heart thumping with anticipation. She paused at the doorway of my studio and turned to me.

  "If Beau hadn't deserted Gisselle for you, she would never have been in that car with Martin," she declared. ―Why did he leave a sophisticated young Creole girl for an unschooled Cajun so quickly, I've wondered. It came to me last night," she said. "Like divine inspiration. And sure enough, my heartfelt suspicions proved true." She threw the studio door open. "Inside."

  "Why?" I asked, but did what she demanded. She stared furiously at me a moment and then followed me in and walked directly to my easel. There she threw back some of my current drawings until she
came to the drawing I had done of Beau nude. I gasped.

  "This is too good to come just from your sinful imagination," she declared. "Isn't it? Don't lie," she added quickly. I took a deep breath.

  "I've never lied to you, Daphne," I said. "And I won't lie to you now."

  "He posed?"

  "Yes," I confessed. She nodded. "But—"

  "Get out and don't dare set foot in this studio again. The door will be locked forever, as far as I'm concerned. Go," she commanded, her arm extended, finger pointing.

  I turned and hurried away. Who was the true invalid in this house, I wondered, Gisselle or me?

  20

  Bird in a Gilded Cage

  Ever since the dreadful car accident, Daddy had been moping about like a man who had lost his desire to live. His shoulders drooped, his face was shadowed, his eyes dull. He ate poorly, grew paler and paler, and even took less care with his appearance. And he spent more and more time alone in Uncle Jean's room.

  Daphne's tone was always critical and harsh. Instead of showing him compassion and understanding, she complained about her own new problems and insisted that he was only making things more difficult for her. Never did she first consider him and how he was suffering.

  So it came as no surprise to me that she wouldn't waste a moment telling him about what she had found in my art studio and what it meant. I felt sorrier for him than I did for myself, for I knew how devastating this would be on top of what had already occurred. Whipped about by what he considered divine retribution for some past sins, he absorbed Daphne's revelations like a condemned man hearing that his final appeal for mercy had been denied. He offered no resistance to her decision to shut up my art studio and end my private art lessons, nor did he utter a single word of protest when she sentenced me to what amounted to practically house arrest.

  Naturally, I was not to see or speak to Beau. In fact, I was forbidden to use the telephone. I was to return home directly from school each and every day and either assist Mrs. Warren with Gisselle's needs or do my homework. To reinforce her ironclad hold over me and Daddy, Daphne called me into the study and cross-examined me in his presence, just to prove to him that beyond a doubt, I was as bad as she had predicted I would be.