Pearl in the Mist

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Pearl in the Mist Page 34

by V. C. Andrews


  When it was over, I felt tears streaming down my cheeks. My heart was thumping so hard I thought I would faint. Beau was on his back, gasping with surprise.

  "And I thought football was strenuous," he joked. Then he grew serious and gazed down into my eyes. "Are you all right?"

  "Yes," I said, catching my breath, "but maybe we love each other too much for our bodies to bear."

  He laughed. "I can't think of anyone whose arms I would rather die in," he replied, which brought a smile to my face.

  We straightened up our clothing, brushed each other off, and started back through the woods. I had to admit I was feeling lighter and happier than I thought possible these past two weeks.

  "I'm so glad you came up to see me, Beau. I hope you don't get into too much trouble."

  "It was worth it," he said.

  We said goodbye at his car, with some of the girls in the dorm watching us from the front window.

  "I can't believe Gisselle hasn't planted herself in my face at least once today," Beau said.

  "I know. But whatever she's up to, it's something nasty for someone, I'm sure." Beau laughed at my words. We kissed goodbye quickly, and then I stood there watching him drive off. I didn't turn to go into the dorm until his car was completely gone from sight. Then I bowed my head and strolled into the dorm.

  "You'd better get a move on," Sarah Peters warned me after I entered the building.

  "Why?"

  "We just heard: Our dorm's been chosen for an unannounced inspection. The Iron Lady could be here any moment," she explained.

  "Inspection? Inspection of what?"

  "Anything. Our rooms, our bathrooms, anything. She doesn't need a warrant, you know."

  When I arrived at the quad, I found all the girls in a frenzy, even Gisselle. They were cleaning and straightening up. Everyone's room looked well organized and neat. Samantha had done a pretty good job on ours.

  "We'll be hit first," Vicki informed me. "She goes in alphabetical order."

  "How was your visit with Beau?" Gisselle asked from her doorway.

  I glared at her, the anger I felt still quite strong.

  "Why, weren't you spying on us?" I asked. She laughed.--but nervously, I thought.

  "I had much better things to do," she replied, then retreated to her room quickly.

  About half an hour later, Mrs. Ironwood did arrive, escorted by Mrs. Penny and Deborah Peck, who carried a clipboard and took down whatever notes and demerits Mrs. Ironwood imposed. The inspection began in Jackie and Kate's room and then went to Gisselle's. I expected to hear complaints, but Mrs. Ironwood emerged with a look of satisfaction on her face. She stepped into my doorway and gazed around the room.

  "Good afternoon, girls," she said to Samantha and me. Samantha looked terrified, and she uttered a reply that was barely audible. Mrs. Ironwood went to one of the dressers and ran her fingers over the top. She looked at her fingers.

  "Very nice," she said. "I'm glad you keep your rooms clean and consider them your home." She opened the closet door and peered in at our clothing, nodded, and then looked at my dresser. She stepped up to it and pulled open the top drawer, gazing in and nodding. "Well organized," she said. Samantha smiled at me. Then Mrs. Ironwood reached down and pulled open the third drawer. She stood there staring down for a moment and then turned to me.

  "This is your dresser?"

  "Yes," I said. She nodded, turned back to the drawer, reached in, and pulled out a pint bottle of rum. "Couldn't you hide this a little better?" she asked sarcastically.

  My mouth dropped. I looked at Mrs. Penny, who gaped at me with surprise and disappointment. Deborah Peck had a faint smile on her lips.

  "That's not mine."

  "You just said this was your dresser. Other people put their things, in your dresser?"

  "No, but . . ."

  "Then this is yours," she said. She handed it to Mrs. Penny. "Dispose of this," she ordered. To Deborah she said, "Ten demerits." She glared at me. "Your punishment will be decided, and you will be told before the end of the day. Until then, you are confined to this room."

  She turned and marched out. Mrs. Penny held the bottle in her hand as gingerly as she could, treating it like poison. She shook her head at me.

  "I'm so ashamed of you, Ruby."

  "It's not mine, Mrs. Penny."

  "So ashamed," she repeated, then followed Mrs. Ironwood and Deborah out. As soon as they were gone, all the girls from the quad rushed to our door.

  "What did she find?" Jackie asked.

  "I'm sure you all know," I said dryly.

  "Know what?" Gisselle asked, coming from behind.

  "About the rum you put in my drawer."

  "See? There she goes again. My fault. I'm not the only one here, Ruby. And other girls from other quads could have gotten into your room. You're not the most popular girl on campus. Maybe someone's jealous of you."

  "Someone?" I said, smiling.

  "Or maybe," she said, her hands on her hips, "that was your bottle."

  I laughed and shook my head.

  "I wonder what she'll do to you," Samantha said.

  "It doesn't matter. I don't care," I told her, and I meant it. I didn't.

  Just before dinner Mrs. Penny arrived to inform me that I was to spend the evening scrubbing all the bathrooms at the school. The head custodian would be waiting with soap and water and a brush. I was to do it every Saturday night after dinner for a month.

  I accepted my punishment with a quiet resignation that annoyed Gisselle and both surprised and impressed the other girls. They never heard a complaint from me, even when it meant I wouldn't be able to attend movies or go to a dance. I knew the head custodian, Mr. Hull, felt sorry for me, and he even began to do some of my work and have some of it completed before I arrived.

  "These bathrooms never looked so good come Monday morning," he told me.

  He was right. Once I realized I couldn't get out of the penalty without causing even more of a problem, I decided to attack it with enthusiasm. It made it bearable. I took out stains that were seemingly embedded, and I got the mirrors so shiny that there wasn't the smallest smudge on the glass. On my third Saturday, however, I found that someone had stuffed the toilets in one of the bathrooms and flushed and flushed so the water would run over the floors. It was a disgusting mess and Mr. Hull came in to assist me, mopping up first. Even so, the stench got to me, and I had to get some fresh air to stop from throwing up my supper.

  Two days later, I woke up very nauseous and had to run into the bathroom to throw up. I thought I had a terrible stomach virus or had been poisoned by the cleaning fluids I had to dip my hands into to clean the bathrooms properly. When the nausea came over me again that afternoon, I asked to be excused from class and went to the school infirmary.

  Mrs. Miller, our school nurse, sat me down and asked me to describe all my symptoms. She looked very concerned.

  "I've been more tired than usual," I admitted when she inquired about my energy.

  "Have you noticed yourself going to the bathroom more frequently to urinate?"

  I thought a moment. "Yes," I said. "I have."

  She nodded. "What else?"

  "I get dizzy once in a while, just be walking along and things start to spin on me."

  "I see. I assume you keep track of your period," she said, "and at least have an approximate idea of when it should arrive."

  My heart stopped.

  "You've missed one?" she asked quickly when she saw the look on my face.

  "Yes, but . . . that's happened to me

  occasionally before."

  "Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately and noticed any changes in your body, especially your breasts?" she asked.

  I had noticed tiny new blood vessels, but I told her I thought that was because I was still developing. She shook her head.

  "You're about as developed as you're going to be," she said. "I'm afraid it sounds like you're pregnant, Ruby," she declared. "Only you know if t
hat's a possibility. Is it?"

  I felt as if she had dowsed me with a pail of ice water. For a moment my whole body became numb, and the muscles in my face wouldn't work. I couldn't reply. I didn't think my heart was even beating. It was as if I had turned to stone right before her eyes. "Ruby?" she asked again.

  And I just started to cry.

  "Oh dear," she said. "You poor dear."

  She put her arm around me and led me to one of the cots. She told me to lie down and rest. I remember that as I lay there burying myself with a mountain of self-pity, hating Fate, cursing Destiny, I wondered why love was made to be so wonderful if it could put me in such a state of affairs. It seemed like a cruel joke had been played on me, but of course, I had no one to blame but myself. I didn't even blame Beau, knowing somehow that I had had the power to say no, to turn him away, but had chosen not to do so.

  A little while later, after my crying had subsided, Mrs. Miller pulled up a chair beside me and sat down.

  "We'll have to inform your family," she said. "This is a very personal problem, and you and your family will have to make some important decisions."

  "Please," I said, seizing her hand, "don't tell anyone."

  "I won't tell anyone but your family and, of course, Mrs. Ironwood."

  "No, please. I don't want anyone to know just yet."

  "I can't do that. It's too much of a responsibility, dear. Surely after the initial shock, your family will give you support, and you and your family will make the right decisions."

  "Decisions?" There seemed to be only one decision--suicide, or at least running away.

  "Whether to have the baby, to have an abortion, to inform the father. . . decisions. So you see, there's too much responsibility for us to keep it a secret. Others have to know. If we didn't tell them, we would be remiss. I would be irresponsible and certainly held to account. The least that would happen is I would be fired."

  "Oh, I don't want that, Mrs. Miller. I'm already responsible for one person losing her job here. I don't want another person on my conscience. Of course, do what you have to do and don't worry about me," I said.

  "Now, now, dear. We'll still worry about you. Other girls have been in this predicament, you know. It's not the end of the world, although it might seem so to you right now." She smiled. "You'll be all right," she promised, patting my hand. "Just rest. do what has to be done and do it discreetly."

  She left and I lay there, hoping the ceiling would fall in on me and cursing the day I had decided to leave the bayou.

  Nearly an hour later, Mrs. Ironwood arrived with Mrs. Miller to inform me that Daphne was sending the limousine for me. I could se the glint of self-satisfaction in her eyes as she spoke.

  "Get yourself together and go back to the dorm. Pack your things, all your things. You won't be coming back to Greenwood," she commanded.

  "At least there's one good thing to come of this," I said.

  She turned bright crimson and hoisted her shoulders. "I'm not surprised. It was only a matter of time before you destroyed yourself. Your sort always does," she snapped, then left before I could reply.

  I didn't care anymore anyway. Ironically, Gisselle had been right: Greenwood was a horrible place as long as that woman ran and administered it. I left the building and returned to the dorm to complete my packing. I had most of it done by midday, when Gisselle came running over during the lunch hour. She burst into the quad screaming my name. When she saw my suitcases packed, my closet and dresser drawers emptied, her mouth dropped.

  "What's going on?" she demanded, and I told her. For once, she was speechless. She sat on my bed.

  "What are you going to do?"

  "What can I do? I'm going home. The limousine should be here shortly."

  "But that's not fair. I'll be left here all alone."

  "All alone? You have the other girls, and you never wanted to do things with me anyway, Gisselle. We're sisters, but up here we were strangers most of the time."

  "I'm not staying here. I won't," she insisted.

  "That's between you and Daphne," I said.

  She went fuming out of my room to make her phone call, but she didn't return to pack her things, so I imagined Daphne had denied her request. At least for now.

  Half an hour later Mrs. Penny, her face sallow, came to inform me that the limousine had arrived, She was sincerely sad for me, and she helped me carry some of my things out to the car.

  "I'm very disappointed in you," she said. "And so is Mrs. Ironwood."

  "Mrs. Ironwood is not disappointed, Mrs. Penny. You work for an ogre. Someday you'll admit that to yourself and then you'll leave too."

  "Leave?" She looked like she would laugh. "But where would I go?"

  "Anyplace where people aren't hypocritical and mean to each other, where you're not judged on the basis of your bank account, where nice and talented people like Miss Stevens aren't persecuted for being honest and caring."

  She stared at me a moment, and then with her face as serious as I had ever seen it, she said, "There isn't any such place, but if you find it, send me a postcard and tell me how to get there."

  She left me and walked back to the dorm to return to her duties as the surrogate mother for all of these girls. I got into the limousine and we drove away.

  And I never looked back.

  .

  Edgar came out and helped the driver carry all my things up to my room when I arrived. He informed me that Daphne wasn't home.

  "But madame asked that you remain in the house and speak to no one until she returns," he said. I wondered if he knew why I had come back. He knew it was something terrible, but he didn't reveal whether he knew any details. Nina was another story. She took one look at me when I entered the kitchen to greet her and said, "You be with child, girl."

  "Daphne told you."

  "She be ranting and raving so loud, even the dead in ovens over at St. Louis Cemetery musta heard her. Then she come in here and told me herself."

  "It's my fault, Nina."

  "It takes two to make baby magic," she said. "It ain't be your only fault."

  "Oh Nina, what am I going to do? I not only make mistakes that ruin my own life, I make the kind that ruin other people's lives too."

  "Someone powerful put a fix on you. None of Nina's good gris-gris stop it," she said thoughtfully. "You best go to church and ask St. Michael for help. He be the one who help you conquer your enemies," she advised.

  We heard the front door open and close and then the sound of Daphne's heels clicking down the corridor sharply. This was followed by Edgar's arrival.

  "Madame Dumas is here, mademoiselle. She wants to see you in the office," he told me.

  "I'd rather see the devil," I muttered.

  Nina's eyes widened with fear.

  "You say that no more, hear? Papa La Bas, he got big ears."

  I went to the office. Daphne was behind the desk on the telephone. She raised her eyebrows when I appeared and nodded toward the chair in front of the desk while she kept talking.

  "She's home now, John. I can send her up immediately. I am relying on your discretion. Of course. I appreciate that. Thank you."

  She cradled the phone slowly and sat back. To my surprise, she shook her head slowly and smiled.

  "I must be honest," she began. "I always expected I would be sitting here confronting Gisselle in this situation, not you. Despite your background, you gave both me and your father the impression that you were the more sensible one, wiser, certainly more intelligent.

  "But," she continued, "as you now know, being more book smart doesn't make you a better person, does it?"

  I tried to swallow but couldn't.

  "How ironic. I, who had every right to bear a child, who could provide the best for him or her, was unable to conceive, and you, like some rabbit, just go and make a baby with your boyfriend as nonchalantly as you would eat a meal or take a walk. You're always talking about how unfair this is and unfair that is. Well, how do you like the hand I've been d
ealt? And then, like salt on a wound, I have to have you enter this house, become part of this family, and confront you with child when you have no right to be pregnant."

  -"I didn't mean it to happen," I said.

  She threw her head back and laughed.

  "How many times since Eve conceived Cain and Abel have women uttered that stupid sentence?" Her eyes became dark slits. "What did you think would happen? You thought you could be as hot as a goat or a monkey and make your boyfriend that hot and not ever pay the consequences? Did you think you were me?"

  "No, but . . ."

  "Forget the buts," she said. "The damage, as they say, has been done. And now, like always, it's left to me to right the wrong, correct and fix things. It was the same when your father was alive, believe me.

  "The limousine is outside," she continued. "The driver has his instructions. You don't need anything. Just go out and get into the car," she commanded.

  "Where am I going?"

  She stared a moment.

  "A friend of mine who's a doctor is at a clinic outside the city. He's expecting you. He will perform an abortion and, barring any unforeseen

  complications, send you directly home. You'll spend a few days recuperating upstairs and then you'll return to public school here. I've already begun to concoct a cover story. The death of your father has left you so depressed you can't continue away from home. Lately you've been walking around here with a long face all the time. People will accept it."

 

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