Gypsy Eyes

by Virginia Andrews

  “Yes,” Summer said.

  “I wanted to say that I really do hope we’ll see you again soon, Sage. I have a selfish motive to confess,” he added. “Summer can tell you. I like to read some of my new manuscripts to young women whenever I get the chance. I both enjoy and learn from their reactions. Many times I have changed things in one of my books because of a young woman’s reaction, and I think, from what Summer’s told me of you and from what I can tell, that you can be of great help to me. If you don’t mind, that is.”

  “No. I’d be happy to do that when I can, Mr. Dante,” I said.

  “Oh please. Don’t call me Mr. Dante. My given name is Roman,” he said.

  I hesitated to ask, but it was just too heavy on my mind not to. “Roman Dante is a beautiful name. Why not use that instead of Belladonna on your novels?”

  “Ah . . . see? She’s asked an excellent question, Summer. She’s a jewel. So,” he said, turning back to me, “what do you know about that name, Belladonna?”

  Should I tell him about my adoptive parents, their heritage? “I know what it was used for and how dangerous it was—it is,” I said.

  “Yes, and that is love. Everything has another side to it, Sage. Never lose sight of that,” he said. “Besides, I can’t use my real name. I’ve got to be mysterious now. My readers are drawn in by that romantic darkness. Do you know anyone who is like that, who needs that?”

  “My uncle Wade,” I said.

  “Ah. Magic. My old love. And you understand why. See? You’d better treat this girl well, Summer, or I’ll be very upset,” he said.

  Usually, when someone said something like that, they were kidding, but the tone of his voice and the little I could see of his face reflected what sounded more like a real threat.

  “Will do,” Summer said. He reached for my hand. “We’ve got to go, Dad. I don’t want to get her into any trouble.”

  “Oh, right. That business about your parents being worried about you, perhaps a little too much.” He shook his head and sighed deeply. “Parents. Do you know how a fencing instructor instructs a new student, Sage?”

  I did, but I didn’t know how I knew. I said nothing and shook my head.

  “Hold it like a bird. Hold it too tightly, and you will crush it. Maybe you should gently remind your parents about that.”

  “Yes,” I said. “But my father is a very clever man. He’ll remind me of the second part of the instruction. Hold it too loosely, and it will fly away.”

  He laughed. “Perhaps when it’s your time, you will do just that,” he said. “Fly away.” He turned back to his pad.

  When he moved his head, there was just enough illumination to reveal the wall on the right. Summer was starting to lead us out of the room, but I caught a glimpse of what I was sure was a smaller but definite pentacle. Only this one had two star points at the top. Or at least that was what I thought. I didn’t have time to look back. We were on our way down the hall and out of the house quickly now.

  “My father wasn’t kidding about reading his writing stuff to young women,” Summer said. “He says I’m of no use to him when it comes to that. I don’t have the right sensitivity. I wouldn’t say it, but I’m happy he spares me. You girls are definitely a different species.”

  “How is he so successful at getting into the feminine persona?”

  “He claims all writers have to have split personalities, more yin and yang,” he said as we crossed to his car.

  “He said that? Yin and yang?”

  “Sure. Why?”

  “Nothing. My parents believe in that.”

  “A lot of people do, Sage. No surprise there,” Summer said. He opened the car door for me and hurried around to get in. “So you’re supposed to have seen this movie tonight, Ruby, correct?”

  “Yes. Ginny was supposed to give me the novel to read just in case my parents asked about it, but she somehow forgot. Maybe not so somehow now that I know their real goal for tonight.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I saw it. There’s this Cajun girl who lives with her grandmother. The grandmother doesn’t like her husband anymore because he sold Ruby’s twin sister to a rich Creole man from New Orleans who is really her father. It’s not until she’s dying that she tells Ruby about her and advises her to go find her real father, and she discovers her twin, who’s the exact opposite, a spoiled rich girl who will become jealous about sharing her father’s affection. I love the voodoo business in the story,” he continued, and he told me the whole plot before we reached the mall.

  I was half listening, because I couldn’t stop thinking about the pentacle I was sure I had seen in his father’s office. When we arrived, I hesitated before getting out and asked him, “Does your father have a pentacle on the wall in his office? I thought I caught a glimpse of one.”

  “Someone gave him one, yes. He has a lot of unusual gifts. I think he was given that by a baron or something in Hungary when we were staying in Budapest for an international publishing event.”

  “Hungary? You’re sure?”

  “As sure as I am about anything he tells me.”

  “I didn’t get a good look at it, but it looked different from the one my parents have.”

  “Did it? I guess these things are different in different countries. Let’s go inside. We have a little more time. I’ll buy you an ice cream or something.”

  We got out and started for the mall. Before we walked to the main entrance, I heard my name called and looked to the right. Ginny and Mia were standing there, smoking cigarettes.

  “What are they doing here?” I wondered aloud.

  “This oughtta be good,” Summer said. “Remember. We were never there.”

  I didn’t believe they had forgotten that, but the second we were upon them, Ginny asked, “Where were you?”

  “Oh, we got sidetracked,” Summer replied quickly. “Actually, I wanted Sage to meet my father. You know, the author you’re all reading.” Both Ginny and Mia looked uncomfortable at that. “How come you two are here so early? Didn’t you enjoy the party?”

  “No,” Mia said quickly, too quickly for Ginny, who nudged her.

  “It was boring,” Ginny said. “We decided to come here to see if you two were still here or something.”

  “Well, we’ve returned. I was going to buy Sage an ice cream. I’d love to buy one for you girls, too.”

  “An ice cream,” Ginny said dryly. “That’s your big night.”

  “We did go for pizza, and then I took Sage to meet my father,” he said.

  I was uncomfortable with the way Ginny was looking at me, but I didn’t reveal anything in my face.

  She shrugged. “Might as well have an ice cream,” she muttered. “Apparently, there’s nothing better to do.”

  We started into the mall.

  “What would you call something better?” Summer asked her. He held my hand, and they walked beside me.

  “If you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you,” she said, and he laughed.

  Of course, I was full of questions I couldn’t ask. What happened when they realized they were all naked? How long did it take to get dressed? What did the other girls do? What did the boys do?

  Summer bought our cones, and we sat at one of the tables in front of the ice cream store. The mall was thinning out. People had already left the last showings of most of the films at the movie complex, and the restaurants, even the pizza place, were nearly empty.

  “Who was at the party?” he asked.

  “The usual suspects,” Ginny replied, and she rattled off the list of boys and the other two girls.

  “Sounds like a small party. Maybe that was why it was boring,” Summer said. “Didn’t Jason have anything to liven it up for you?”

  Neither girl responded. They looked at each other, and then Ginny offered a quick, sharp “No.”

  “Well,” Summer said, looking at me, “I think I’ll be on my way. It’s good the girls are back and can go out of the mall with you when your father arrives. T
hat way, he’ll believe you were all together.”

  “I don’t see what the big deal is. Why does she have to hide the fact that she was with you instead?” Mia demanded.

  “She won’t much longer. Everything good takes a little time. You’re not the sort of girl who rushes into things on the first date, are you?” he teased her. I squeezed his hand under the table.

  “At least I have a real first date,” she replied petulantly.

  “I must say I’m really surprised,” Summer said. “Wasn’t there anyone at the party you liked?”

  “They were all immature idiots,” Mia said.

  “Boys will be boys,” Summer replied.

  Mia turned away, and Ginny looked down.

  Summer stood up.

  “Okay, good night, girls. I’ll call you tomorrow, Sage,” he said. He leaned over to kiss me but kept his eyes open to watch Mia’s and Ginny’s faces. Then he smiled and walked off.

  “Did you have a good time with him?” Mia asked immediately.

  “Yes.”

  “What’s his father like, then?”

  “He’s charming,” I said.

  “Charming?” She looked at Ginny. “Who calls anyone charming, for God’s sake? Is he sexy, as sexy as Summer?”

  “He’s elegant, mysterious, very handsome, and yes, sexy,” I said. “I would call that charming.”

  She looked disappointed.

  “So why did you two leave the party so early?” I asked, recalling what they had intended to do to me. “Something happen that upset you? Someone get too drunk and throw up, or what?”

  Neither spoke, but they looked more devastated.

  “What?” I pursued.

  “We were drugged,” Ginny said.

  “Drugged?”

  “Jason must have put something in our drinks.”

  “What happened?”

  “If you dare tell anyone . . .”

  “Jason probably will,” Mia said sadly.

  “No, he won’t, or we’ll describe him in centimeters,” Ginny said, making it clear what she meant.

  Mia smiled and nodded.

  “So what was it?” I pursued.

  “All of us went into some hypnotic state or something. When we became conscious again, we were all naked.”

  “Naked?” I was so good at sounding surprised that even I believed it. Summer would surely be proud of me, I thought.

  “We were drugged with something new. All the boys must have been in on it. They must have stripped us and then gotten undressed themselves as a practical joke. They claimed they didn’t and put on this almost convincing reaction of shock and surprise, but how else could it have happened?”

  They looked at me for an answer.

  “Well?” Mia asked. “You seem to know everything else.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “How else could it have happened? I suppose you’re right not to believe their reactions.”

  “You’re damn lucky you weren’t there,” Mia said, but more mournfully than as if she was happy for me. She looked ready to cry. I was sure she had, that they all had.

  But I wasn’t thinking of that. I was thinking about the spiked lemonade they had planned for me to drink. “Yes,” I said. “Damn lucky.”

  17

  When my father drove up to fetch me, Ginny and Mia made me promise them again that I would never tell what had happened to them at the party.

  “Especially don’t tell your parents,” Ginny said. “My parents find out about this, and I’m dead,” she emphasized, her eyes wide with fear but also with a clearly unveiled threat shot in my direction.

  “No one will find out anything from me, Ginny,” I assured her, but then I looked at Mia. “But someone will talk too much,” I added, with the firmness of any prediction I had ever made. She knew and felt it, too. “Night,” I said, and got into my father’s car.

  “How was the movie?” he asked immediately.

  “It’s a great story,” I said, and I repeated it almost word for word the way Summer had related it to me. It took almost the entire trip home.

  “Your mother tells me you probably met this new boy at the mall.”

  “I did,” I said. That wasn’t a lie. I had met him at the mall, only right after my father had dropped me off.

  “When are you bringing him around to meet us?”

  “Soon,” I said.

  “Remember, tomorrow your great-uncle and great-aunt arrive.”

  “I have it marked down on my right palm, and I won’t wash tonight,” I said.

  I thought it was funny, but he gave me a nasty look. “Sarcasm doesn’t look good on you, Sage.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said quickly.

  “I know it’s in fashion with you kids today, but I think it’s a clear way to show disrespect. Some parents ignore it. We won’t.”

  “Okay, Dad,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  I had never heard him sound so furious. Something was changing. He was nervous about something. I could sense it. He was quiet the rest of the way, and so was I.

  My mother was waiting for me with her questions just as she always was when I returned from somewhere. Tonight it was where did we eat? When did we go to the movies? Who was there? What did we do after the movies? And most important of all, did I notice anyone in particular watching us, watching me? The more she asked, the angrier I could feel myself getting. Summer and his father were right. My parents, especially my mother, were obsessive and unfair. Look at how much trouble the other girls had gotten into, and yet look at how much freedom they had.

  “I don’t know why you’re continuing to treat me this way. You’re making me feel like some sort of criminal. I didn’t go out stealing. I just met friends. I want to have friends, and I want to have a good time, too!” I cried. “Why do I have to be treated like I’m on parole or something? What have I done to deserve it?”

  Hot tears burned under my eyelids. I could feel the heat in my face. It was as if a bomb had gone off. The silence that followed was shattering. I thought even the windows had rattled.

  My parents didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Neither of them had ever seen me this way. I was surprised at my outburst myself, but I didn’t feel bad about it. I had almost used Roman Dante’s analogy and talked to them about holding the sword too tightly and crushing the bird, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to start my mother questioning where I had gotten that idea. I had never taken fencing lessons, so she would go on about another one of my inexplicable memories and tell me I hadn’t improved at all.

  “Too many parents don’t take enough interest in their children’s activities,” my mother said very calmly, but it sounded like a weak argument. I could see she knew it, too.

  My father finally interceded, telling her that I should get to sleep. “Alexis will be here late in the morning,” he reminded her, but he made it sound like all her fears and concerns would be alleviated once my great-uncle Alexis and Aunt Suzume arrived.

  She relented, nodded, and sat, still looking a little stunned. I said good night and hurried up the stairs. The moment I closed the door, I felt a great sense of relief but also the weight of my emotional roller-coaster ride from the moment I had met Summer to just now, when I’d finally escaped my mother’s third degree. I was exhausted. It took me only minutes to get into bed, but I didn’t fall asleep quickly as I had expected. Instead, my mind began to play back images like a slide show on the closed lids of my eyes.

  Once again, I saw the dumb, stunned looks on the faces of the girls and boys at Jason’s house after they had swallowed Summer’s pills. It was truly as if their brains had been shut off. Their eyes were as glassy as the eyes of the dead, stone-cold still, blind to everything in front of them. After he had whispered in each one’s ear, I once again saw the way they began to undress, slowly at first, moving robotically, and then suddenly in a frenzy to beat everyone else to nudity. When I had looked back from the doorway, the girls were already totally naked, and the boys were catching up an
d turning to face them. No one was touching anyone else. It was as if they had been turned into statues.

  The silhouetted man I had seen in the dim light began to haunt me, too. He floated in and out, and then, in what was more like a nightmare vision, he was sitting right beside me in the pizza restaurant. I opened my eyes, and for a moment, in the glow of light seeping through my curtains, he seemed to be there in my room, standing just inside my door, looking at me. He had no face. I leaned over to flick on my side table lamp, and the image evaporated.

  “Don’t be afraid,” I heard my voices whisper. “Sleep is your escape.”

  I shut off my lamp and lay back. Think of some thing pleasant, I told myself. Summer’s long kiss came to mind, but I shook it off. I wasn’t aroused the way any other girl surely would be. I wasn’t preparing to fantasize about making love to him. I was hurrying to go through the darkness of sleep to find another place, a comfortable, safe place in which I could curl up and forget. I heard another voice, soothing, loving. It came from a woman shrouded in a memory so old and thin that it was difficult to imagine her face. Her voice was enough. In moments, I was warm and comfortable and asleep.

  In the morning after breakfast, I helped my mother prepare what would be a much bigger lunch than we usually had on weekends. Usually, we had a big breakfast, but today we had a small one. It was more like a day for a holiday luncheon. She had bought a turkey to roast. We made homemade cranberry sauce, creamed spinach, and sweet potatoes. My mother was a good pie maker. She always prepared her own crust and had a secret recipe for her mincemeat pie, something I knew was traditionally served during the Christmas season in England. My father once let slip that her recipe went back to the thirteenth century, handed down by her ancestors, but then she would answer no questions about her ancestors.

  The first time I remembered eating it, I thought I had eaten it many times. My parents swore that wasn’t possible. My mother made it only on very special occasions, and my father said he could count on the fingers of one hand when they were. But it was like any of my other inexplicable memories, still true to me despite what he or my mother said.

  Uncle Alexis and Aunt Suzume arrived a little before eleven. The first thing I thought was that a great-uncle should look much older than he did. Aunt Suzume looked only a little older than my mother, if that. My father treated them both with great deference. Someone would think that members of a great royal family had come visiting. I could see the adoration and respect in my father’s face when he greeted them. They weren’t embarrassed by it. In fact, they looked like they had expected the adulation and reverence.