Secrets 02 Secrets in the Shadows

by V. C. Andrews

  "Easy," my grandfather told her. He put her on pause. She barely blinked an eye. "Did Craig tell you why she's upset?"

  "It's because of my mother, because of what happened in their house, because she thinks I've inherited evil or something." I said. "She's redone the house from top to bottom inside to erase the possibility that there is anything in it that my mother might have touched or walked upon or even seen."

  "Yes, we knew the Harrisons had done that," my grandfather said.

  "You were in the house then?" my grandmother asked.

  "Just once. That day Craig and I met in town and he took me home. His parents weren't there," I quickly added. I wondered if I should tell them about the research he had done on the Pearson murder. Something told me to hold back on that.

  "You saw the whole house?" she asked.

  "No."

  She was quiet. I could see she'd rather not know anything more about it.

  "So what's Craig going to do? Has he decided against taking you to the prom?" my grandfather asked.

  "No. He's, taking me."

  "The Harrisons can't be pleased," my

  grandmother told my grandfather. "It doesn't make for a pleasant experience, Michael. Maybe you should have a word with Tom Harrison."

  "And say what? They have a right to control what their own son does, Elaine."

  "We're going to the prom," I emphasized. "We've already decided. Craig has the money he needs, and he has access to another automobile, or we could join two other couples and go in a limousine."

  "Not very pleasant," my grandmother muttered, shaking her head. "Damn that woman."

  "Elaine."

  "It's not fair to Alice," she said, gesturing at me as if my grandfather had to be told where and who I was. "If I hear that she is spreading any stories . . ."

  "I doubt that she's doing that," my grandfather said, but not with confidence.

  "I'm sorry, honey," my grandmother said. "If you feel you don't want to go to the prom with Craig now, don't worry about it. You'll have other uses for that gown. I'm sure."

  "Oh no, we're going," I said. I had worked on my self-confidence and built my indifference and determination along with Craig. This was no time to retreat. "I'm not going to let someone tell me I'm not good enough."

  "Good for you," my grandfather said, smiling "I'm sure Greta Harrison will realize how foolish she's being."

  "Don't count on it. If she had her nose any higher, she'd be on oxygen," my grandmother said, and they both laughed.

  I smiled. Craig's mother did look like someone who thought she walked constantly on a red carpet. The few times I had seen her since Craig and I had been going out, I couldn't help but stare and even study her. Parents, after all, at minimum, were the pool from which we drew our own characteristics. What, if anything, had Craig drawn from such a woman? Was it her arrogance that he toned down to strong self-confidence? Everyone needed that; that was good. He had some of her good physical characteristics, her hair, eyes. I imagined that so much more of him, however, had come from his father, who was as strong and handsome looking. Between the lines and small references, I understood that his father had a good sense of humor and was liked by most people. Craig said he was a perfect politician, especially in regards to his mother.

  "Well, you just let us know if anything nasty happens, Alice," my grandmother said. "And if there's anything you two need. Maybe you can lend him your car, Michael," she suggested.

  He shook his head.

  "That's a little too much involvement, Elaine."

  "You're thinking more like an attorney and less like a grandfather," she countered. His face immediately turned a little crimson. "But you're probably right," she added quickly. "Just let us know, Alice," she concluded.

  I nodded, and we finished our dinner talking about other things.

  As prom night drew closer, the excitement in the school was palpable. There was truly an electricity in the air, spurts of laughter and giggling, smiles flashing, everyone assuring and promising everyone else that the night would be very special. I began to feel sorry for those girls who had not been asked. Their faces looked pale and forlorn. It was almost as if they were watching their youth pass them by, leaving them lost and alone on some street corner, at some bus stop where no bus ever came.

  My grandparents kept asking about how we would spend the time between the prom and the picnic the next morning. I finally found out that a group of us was going to spend the night at Ruth Gibson's house. Her parents had to attend her father's brother's twenty- fifth anniversary affair in Dover, Maryland, so she had the house to herself, and they had given her permission to have some friends over. It was one of the bigger homes in Centerville, the nearby village. Being so close to our hamlet gave my grandparents some comfort, although my grandmother wasn't happy about there not being any older person to chaperone.

  "Let them take on their own responsibilities," my grandfather said. "Alice is a pretty levelheaded kid."

  She gave in, but she wasn't as confident about me as he was, and besides, she said, pointedly directing herself at me, "Sometimes, it's not you but your friends who get you into trouble."

  "You toss the dice from the moment you drop them off at kindergarten on," my grandfather muttered.

  Because I had imposed such a restricted, introverted, almost hermetic existence on myself, they were caught in a conflict. They had done what they could to get me to be more social, and now that I was, they didn't know how restrictive they should be without turning me back to the person I had been. I couldn't give them any clue. I was in uncharted waters myself. I would either drown or sail on. Grandfather Michael was probably right--you just toss the dice and pray.

  Now that everything was laid out, our evening began to fall into place. Craig informed me Friday night that we were definitely not going in the limousine, however.

  "First, I don't need to hear or to have them question me as to why I don't have my car," he said, "and second, I don't intend on sharing my time with you, not even a few minutes."

  "What will we do?"

  "Don't worry. I'm working on something very special," he told me and winked.

  The night before the prom, I had this terrible nightmare in which I discovered that Craig's parents had decided to have him locked away so as to prevent him from taking me. He was chained to some wall, crying and screaming. Now I was like those other girls, the ones without a date, watching her youth float away unexplored. I actually woke in a sweat and found my heart thumping. Nothing pleased me as much as seeing the sunlight come pouring through my windows, cutting the darkness into shreds.

  He called me twice that day, both times to reassure me that all was fine.

  "My mother decided to go on a full-day shopping spree. It's her way of getting back at both me and my father, mostly him, because she's probably going to spend a ton of money on unnecessary things."

  "What is your father saying?"

  "Nothing. He just looks at me and shakes his head. I don't respond. They'll get over it," he said. "She'll have her tantrum and that will be that. Now be sure you take a nap like the young women did in Gone with the Wind," he said, laughing.

  "Like I could fall asleep."

  He laughed, and then he told me his special secret about our transportation. He had rented Harold Echert's '57 Ford Thunderbird, a restored classic automobile.

  "As it turns out, we're going to arrive at the prom in the most striking automobile."

  "He let you rent it?"

  The car was always parked in front of the Echert garage and drew the attention and admiration of tourists and locals alike. It was always kept washed and shined. There was a story about a movie company that had even used it in a film. It was fire engine red with those big white wall tires.

  "Let? I gave him a pretty big chunk of change. It has that tuck and roll interior. I took it for a ride yesterday to be sure it was in tip-top condition. What power it has. Wait until I pick you up," he said. "My father did me a fav
or taking my car away."

  "Okay," I said, laughing. "We'll send him a thank- you card."

  His excitement was infectious.

  Later in the day he called again to make sure I had rested and was ready for what he described as a life experience. I began to prepare myself nearly two hours before he was to come by. My grandmother was in and out of my room the whole time, fidgeting with my gown, my shoes, checking on my makeup and nay hair, acting more nervous about the prom than I was. My grandfather finally told her to leave me be.

  "You're driving her crazy," he said.

  "I just want her to be--"

  "She'll be; she'll be. Relax, Elaine," he said, and finally she retreated to sit with him to wait for me to descend.

  I did the best I could to stuff my own nervousness deep down inside me. Before I left my room, Aunt Zipporah called to hear how I looked in my gown and wish me a good time.

  "I almost drove over to see you off, but Tyler said I would make you nervous."

  "You would," I said, and she laughed.

  "Make sure I get a picture."

  "Okay."

  "Have a great time, honey."

  "Okay," I said as if it was all up to me.

  Finally, I started down. Craig was due any minute. My grandparents, both pretending to be interested in what they were reading, nearly leaped out of their chairs. My grandmother couldn't help herself. She had to get up to fix one or two strands of my hair that had come loose from my hairpiece.

  "You look fantastic, Alice," my grandfather said. "It's like a real princess came downstairs."

  I smiled at him If only I could find someone to love me half as much as he did, I'd be fine, I thought. We heard the doorbell ring. My grandmother gave my grandfather a look, and he hurried to get their camera. Then she let Craig in.

  He looked so handsome in his tuxedo. His face was beaming with excitement, and when he saw me, he looked like he had lost his breath.

  "Wow," he declared. "I've got the prom queen for sure. Do I know talent, or do I know talent?"

  "Oh, shut up. And stop congratulating yourself so much," I said.

  He laughed and produced my corsage. As he pinned it on me, my grandfather started to take pictures. We posed for a few, and then my

  grandparents followed us out to look at the car.

  "A beaut," my grandfather said. "I've been envious of the Echerts for years because of that car."

  "She rides like a dream," Craig told him My grandfather looked in the window at the seats and dashboard and whistled.

  "Brings back memories," he said. "Nights in the drive-in, cruising .

  "Keep those memories to yourself, if you don't mind," my grandmother told him, and they laughed.

  Then they both hugged me, and Craig ran around to open the door for me.

  "Have a wonderful time, you two," my grandfather said.

  "Call us in the morning," my grandmother said. "Please. And be careful."

  "We will," Craig said.

  He started the engine, nodded at them and then we drove off. I thought I had been holding my breath the whole time, waiting to see if I would wake up and discover it had all been a dream. Craig reached over to squeeze my hand gently.

  "We did it," he said. "And you are beautiful, Alice. You're truly like a discovery, a treasure, someone who has been hidden away too long." He laughed. "If we were real socialites, this would be your coming out party, like some debutante."

  I smiled and thought, It's true. It is an emergence of sorts. I'm breaking out of the attic. The shadows were in flight. The brightness from our happiness was too strong for them.

  We floated off like two meteors side by side on the way to another universe, one where darkness and unhappiness didn't exist. Neither of us spoke. It was as if we needed only to think at each other and look at each other to know the contents of our hearts.

  "I've always been afraid to be this happy," I said in a loud whisper.

  He turned and smiled at me.

  "Why?"

  -I don't know. It's like . ."

  "Like you're letting go of all the bad stuff?" "And that makes you feel guilty?"

  "Yes."

  "Then let's both feel guilty," he said, "like Adam and Eve. We'll both break the rules."

  He laughed.

  But was it funny? Should we laugh and be happy? After all, they lost paradise.

  "Yes"

  9 The Accident

  . The Cherry Hill was one of the most glamorous and well-known hotels in the upstate resort area. It was a large, sprawling property with its own golf course, Olympic-size pool, nightclub and indoor skating rink. Normally, the students who went there for any reason were excited about it, but tonight we were given the golf club to use as our private dance hall and party room, and that made it even more exciting.

  The hotel provided valet parking and had spotlights set up so it looked like celebrities were arriving. There was even a red carpet for us. When we drove up in the classic automobile, the students who had already arrived came to the door to look, and those who had just arrived ahead of us stood by to watch us pull up. There was even some applause. The class had hired a photographer to take the prom pictures, and he was clicking away madly as Craig and I stepped out of the car, his flash popping. The music was piped into some outside speakers so that it felt as if the party began the moment I stepped out of the car. Showing off for his friends, Craig took me in his arms and spun us around like two professional dancers on the red carpet. There was laughter and applause.

  Craig's face seemed to absorb the brightness from the flashbulbs. His shoulders rose, and he swelled with pride. Right from the moment he had picked me up, I had been wondering if his parents' anger and attitude about his taking me would somehow seep into the evening and ruin our night. I was sure it was on his mind as well.

  "I knew I asked the right girl to the prom. I told you that you would be the prom queen," he whispered as he took my arm and continued to lead me down the red carpet.

  Craig's buddies wanted to know how he had managed to get the car. No one asked why he had done it; they all just assumed he wanted something special. Everyone was shaking his hand and patting him on the back as if he had hit a home run at the play-off game and not struck out.

  I felt as if I had been lifted off earth in a rocket ship. Just a few weeks ago, before the spring break, I had been less than a shadow in the school--and a passing one at that. Now, I was the absolute center of attention with a ring of envious girls circling me, trying to get me to talk to them. Girls like Mindy Taylor and Peggy Okun, who had once tried to hurt me, were now relegated to the dark corners of the room. Amazed at my turnaround, they had sour faces and looked like they had been shrunken. I was sure they were in just as much a daze over all this as I was, only they weren't enjoying any of it.

  Craig and I went out to the dance floor immediately, and so did the others around us. In fact, it seemed as if we were leading most of the prom attendees about on a leash, doing whatever we decided to do. When we went to the punch bowl, others did. When we had some snacks, they did. When we danced, they danced, and when we stood around to talk, the crowd gathered to hear every word.

  What would my mother's life have been like if she had experienced these things? I wondered. Would it have changed her, helped her, kept her from disaster? If ever there was such a thing as an injection of self- confidence, this was it. I could now tell myself that there wasn't anyone who intimidated me, who danced much better than I danced, or looked much better than I looked. Suddenly competing with girls my age in this world didn't seem all that difficult. I truly felt as if Craig and I glowed on that dance floor, and it wasn't only because of the car and our clothes.

  Craig was already a big shot in the school, being the class president and an athletic hero. Our stunning, dramatic appearance and the energy we radiated simply enhanced it all. Now that I was here, I did feel like I had been discovered, and deservedly so. I soaked up the attention from other boys and the girls
willingly. I know I was far more talkative than ever, laughed more than I had ever laughed, and simply enjoyed myself for myself. I had never really taken pleasure in who I was, but I did this night and thought perhaps I would from now on. We had both made good decisions for ourselves when we remained determined to stay together and attend the prom.

  "I can't believe how pretty you look. You're like an actress or something," Marsha Green told me. I just smiled at her. I didn't know what to say to someone gushing at me like that, especially her. She sat next to me in math class and hadn't so much as yawned in my direction before this.

  A little while later, Craig pulled me aside and took the glass of punch out of my hands.

  "I just found out that someone poured vodka in it," he said.

  "Really? I didn't taste it."

  "That's the idea. It's well disguised, but I don't want a replay from Mickey's party. I have something else for us that's better," he told me and patted his jacket.

  Before I could ask him what that was, he was pulled away by Bobby Robinson to hear a joke. Even though all the boys had dates to attend to, they still liked to clump together and pass stories among themselves. Why were only girls considered gossips? I wondered and laughed to myself. I was making so many new and wonderful discoveries about the world I was in and the people I knew.

  Moments later, the band, who was given the task of choosing the prom king and queen, stopped playing to announce whom they had selected. My heart began to pound. I could see from the way most of the others were looking at Craig and me that they expected we would be crowned. Nevertheless, when the band leader said our names in the microphone, I felt my legs nearly turn to jelly.

  "C'mon," Craig urged. "Let's get those crowns before they decide they made a mistake."

  I was in such a state of shock that I'm sure I looked like someone sleepwalking to the stage. I was to be the prom queen? Me? The town leper?

  In a mock ceremony with lots of pomp and circumstance, trumpet and drum roll, we were coronated, and the others cheered and clapped. The photographer was snapping his pictures from all angles, and some of the other students who had brought cameras were doing the same. I even saw one of our chaperones, Mr. Kasofsky, taking pictures.