Early Spring 01 Broken Flower

by V. C. Andrews

  . After breakfast, Grandmother Emma decided to give Miss Harper a tour of the mansion. Ian and I were ordered to go along, but not to speak unless we were spoken to. Lecturing about the house was still one of Grandmother Emma's most enjoyable activities, and even our present tragedy didn't distract her or depress her enough to lessen the joy. We could hear the pride in her voice as she spoke. Miss Harper was properly impressed, nodding and commenting about the beauty and the value of everything in the March Mansion.

  Ian smirked and shook his head. He leaned over to whisper, "She's an apple polisher just like Nancy."

  "It's not proper to whisper behind anyone's back," Grandmother Emma said, without turning to us or skipping a beat in her tour.

  It was always wrong to underestimate Grandmother Emma's hearing or sight.

  We did listen attentively, however. It was during the walk- through that we learned Miss Harper was the daughter of one of Grandmother Emma's oldest friends from Philadelphia and that she had been a third-grade elementary school teacher in a private school, but had lost her job because of a budget cutback. She had been living with her mother and had even lived at home when she attended college.

  Grandmother Emma primarily wanted us along to reinforce her rules about the house in front of Miss Harper. This included what door to use when we went out to the pool, where to wipe our feet, and what areas were still restricted as far as we were concerned. She never wanted us to go into what had been Grandfather March's office, now her office, for example. It was clear Miss Harper would enforce all the rules as stringently as Grandmother Emma did.

  Afterward. Ian was given permission to return to his room and I was told to go with Miss Harper and assist her moving into the house in any way she required. I couldn't imagine what I could do for her. Grandmother Emma had still not explained why she had moved her into Mama and Daddy's bedroom. At the foot of the stairs, she finally did.

  "For the time being, Miss Harper will be taking what was your parents' bedroom,'" Grandmother Emma told us. "When your father returns, he will not be able to navigate the stairway. He will be in a wheelchair and I don't intend to mar the beauty of this extraordinary staircase by installing one of those lifts on a mahogany balustrade, so I am having the downstairs guest room set up as their room."

  "What if Mama doesn't like that?" I asked.

  For a long moment, we could hear a pin drop. Even Ian looked surprised at how sharply I had asked the question, but I couldn't help feeling I should speak up for Mama, who was unable to speak up for herself. Grandmother Emma glared at me a moment and then continued as if I hadn't spoken.

  "Under the circumstances, it is better for Miss Harper to be where she can attend to you children easier. It will be some time before either of your parents is able to do much parenting, and I have a great many new responsibilities, thanks to this unnecessary event. For one thing. I'll have to take a more active role in the supermarket. I will be reviewing the books, the procedures, and interviewing for a new full-time general manager. Maybe it will start to become profitable," she added for Miss Harper, who immediately smiled.

  "It is most unfortunate that you have so much to do at this time in your life, Mrs. March," she said.

  Ian nearly groaned. I saw how his lips contorted with visible disgust.

  "Frankly, Millicent, I can't recall a time in my life when I didn't have major responsibilities.. I wouldn't know how to handle so- called retirement."

  They laughed.

  "Ian, you can go to your room. You can go out, but stay on the property and do not go swimming until we return,"

  Grandmother Emma added, and turned to me. "In about an hour or so, you will go to the doctor with Miss Harper and me.

  "Welcome to our house. Millicent," she said to Miss Harper, and extended her hand to her. They shook gently.

  "Thank you."

  Ian quickly started up the stairs and didn't look back. Sullenly. I followed Miss Harper to what had been my parents' bedroom. Grandmother Emma had even had the bedding and the curtains completely changed, using the bedding and curtains I had seen in the downstairs guest room. Nancy had already put away Miss Harper's things, hung up her clothing in the closet, and put her shots where they belonged. None of Mama or Daddy's clothing had been left. Even the pictures of us and of them had been removed.

  I saw that Miss Harper had very little on the vanity table and nothing of Mama's remained. She checked the bathroom and then stepped out and smiled.

  "Well, it looks like there's not much for us to do. I feel as if I have lived here for years," she told me. "Why don't we have our first heart-to-heart chat. You can sit on the settee and I'll sit here," she said, taking the cushioned chair that I knew to be Daddy's.

  I gazed about suspiciously. Grandmother Emma surely knew everything had been done for Miss Harper. I was positive she just wanted me to be alone with her to have this first conversation. She wanted to be sure Ian wouldn't be present. Miss Harper held her smile, but those eyes were still so cold, it was as if her face was a mask and the real Miss Harper was somewhere behind it, watching me, studying me. I sat as perfectly as I could so there would be no slouching for her to report.

  "Well now, let's get to know each other better. You were just seven, right?"

  I nodded.

  "It's better if you say yes or no when people ask you a question, Jordan. Just nodding or shaking your head makes it seem like you don't want to talk," she said. To me it sounded exactly like something Grandmother Emma might say. "You were just seven?" she repeated.

  "Yes," I said.

  "For many years. I taught little girls and boys who were about your age. You're going into the third grade this coming September. I'm going to help you be so prepared, your teacher will recommend promoting you into the fourth grade. How would you like that? Would you like that?"

  "I don't know." I said. "I don't do schoolwork over the summer."

  "This summer you will, At the end of the summer you will know just as much as any fourth grader."

  "You're going to be here all summer?" I asked.

  She stared coolly. "It appears that way, Jordan. It's important you don't get too optimistic about your mother's recovery."

  "What's optimistic?"

  "See? My students would know that word. It means essentially too hopeful. You have to be realistic about how long it will take for your mother to fully recuperate. You can't rush something like that. It wouldn't be good for her and you want what's good for her, don't you?"

  "Yes," I said. Of course, I thought. Why did she even have to ask?

  "Good. Now, back to what I was saying. Imagine getting ahead of all the other students in your class this year," she continued. "Wouldn't you feel your summer wasn't so terrible after all?"

  "It will be terrible until Mama comes home," I said. Nothing she could do and nothing wonderful for me could change that.

  She sucked in her breath through her nose and pulled up her shoulders. I could see she didn't like my answers, but why should I pretend I was happy she was here?

  "Try to concentrate on what I'm telling you. I'm telling you a good thing could come out of all this. I'm a qualified elementary school teacher and you will be my only student for the whole summer. I'll be able to devote all my time to just you--and Ian, of course," she added, but not with any enthusiasm.

  I smiled at that and said, "Ian could be ahead of everyone in his school. Some of his teachers think he should already be in college."

  "Is that so? Well, for now, then I won't be so concerned about Ian. I'm really concerned only about you. You have a great many new problems, more than a girl your age is supposed to have, and I want to help you with all that, too. In order for me to do that, you know what I need from you?"

  I shook my head and then quickly said, "No."

  "I need you to be very, very honest with me all the time. I need you to trust me and I need to be able to trust you. Will you try to be honest all the time?"

  "Yes. I don't lie," I adde
d. "Ian says I'm not a good liar anyway. He says anyone could take one look at my face and know I was lying."

  "That's not a good reason not to lie to people. Jordan," she said quickly. "That makes it sound like you would if you could do it better. You shouldn't want to lie because it's wrong and if people think you lie about one thing, they won't believe you about another. A person is as good as his or her word. Do you understand?"

  "Yes," I said. "I don't lie," I added.

  "Good. Let's begin slowly. Making close friends, as close as you and I are going to be, takes time. It's like easing yourself into a hot bath, getting used to the water. Do you know what I mean?"

  "I don't make the water that hot," I said.

  She didn't smile. She looked like she was chewing the inside of her mouth for a moment, chewing on her words or thoughts, but in' stead of swallowing them, blowing them out toward me.

  "Sometimes people don't mean exactly what they say. You must learn not to take every word exactly as it seems."

  "If they don't mean what they say, they might be lying," I said.

  Again, she didn't smile. She stared at me, nothing in her face moving this time.

  "I think your grandmother might be

  underestimating you," she said, but it seemed to me she was saying it to herself and not to me. "Okay," she continued. "I know about your little problem. I know why we're all going to see the doctor in a little while. I had some students who had the same problem you have," she said. "I can help you with all that."

  I lifted my eyebrows. Why did she call it a little problem when everyone else made it sound big? Was it only a little problem? If she had students with the same problem, she would know things to tell me. Would she tell me the same sort of things Flora had told me? Without my book, without Ian and Mama talking to me. I felt as though all the questions hovered above me like persistent tiny flies people called no-see-ems. Answers were the only way to move those annoying flies away.

  "Grandmother Emma said you would answer all my questions from now on and I should ask only you,"

  "That's right. I know you've already been told a great deal and I'll have to be sure you were told everything correctly, so I might go over things you supposedly know."

  "It's important to know what's happening in your own body," I said, parroting Ian and getting more enthusiastic. Perhaps my conversations with her wouldn't be so boring after all and wouldn't be anything like being in a classroom. Grandmother Emma might just have done a very good thing bringing her to the house. I thought.

  "Yes, that's true about your own body, as long as you learn things about it from mature and responsible people. I know you will have many more questions about yourself than girls without your problems have at your age."

  I thought a moment and then decided to test her.

  "I still don't understand what an orgasm is," I said, and she bristled like someone who had just had a dozen ice cubes dropped down her back.

  She shot up.

  "That's disgusting coming out of the mouth of a girl who was just seven. That's entirely inappropriate and we're going to deal with such filth immediately. Get up!" she ordered.

  I stood up slowly. Why did she want me to get up?

  She approached me, reached out, and seized my wrist, pulling me across the room to my parents' bathroom. She pulled so hard. I nearly tripped, but I sensed she would drag me over the floor if I fell anyway. I protested, but she didn't stop.

  At the sink she ran the water and then put a cake of soap under it. I watched her, confused, until she slapped it against my mouth and held the back of my head so I couldn't retreat as she scrubbed against my clenched teeth, the taste of soap seeping through and making me gag.

  "This will clean out your filthy mouth," she said. Then she released me.

  I spit into the sink and as soon as I could, screamed at the top of my voice. She slapped my face and clutched my hair, pulling so hard. I felt tears burn my eyes. I kept screaming.

  "Stop that screaming immediately. Stop it!" she ordered. I sucked in and heaved as I held my breath.

  "That's better. I'm sorry, but I had to teach you a lesson quickly. We don't have all that much time to waste and your grandmother is very, very concerned about what has been done to you and what has happened to you and what could happen to you. I'm sure you learned that word from Ian.

  "When you calm down. I'll tell you more and you'll understand, but for now, this is the best way. I know. I've been a teacher of children your age for many, many years. Now wash your face and dry it and we'll continue talking until your grandmother calls for us."

  Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I dried my face slowly and then spit and spit into the sink, but the taste of the soap wouldn't go away. Impatient with how long I was taking, she grasped my shoulders and forcefully turned me from the sink. She held onto me to direct me to leave the bathroom. When we stepped out. I saw Ian standing in the bedroom doorway.

  "Why was she screamina?" he demanded, his hands on his hips. I was never so happy to see him.

  "You need to learn some manners. I see," Miss Harper replied. "When you enter a room, especially a lady's room, you knock and wait to be admitted. You don't come barging in like this. Now turn around, close the door, and knock," she said.

  Ian looked at her and then at me. "What did she do to you?" he asked, ignoring her.

  "If I have to call for your grandmother, this will become a major incident. Is that what you want?"

  "Jordan?"

  She had no idea how well Ian could ignore someone. It made me smile, but Miss Harper's fingers squeezed harder on my shoulders.

  "You are supposed to be a very smart young man," she said. "You're not acting very intelligently. With your parents both seriously injured, this is not the time to be a troublemaker in your grandmother's house."

  "Are you all right. Jordan?" he asked me,

  I kept my eyes directed to the floor. If I told him what she had done. I knew he would get very angry, shout, and tell her to let go of me. He might even go after her the way he had gone after Flora and Addison. Grandmother Emma would come rushing here to see what was happening. He would get into more trouble. I thought.

  "Yes," I said, but I didn't look at him. Ian would know the truth in a second if I did.

  "If you hurt her, you'll be sorry," he said, turned, and walked out.

  "You did the right thing. Jordan," she said immediately. "I'm beginning to wonder if you're not the more intelligent child here."

  She turned me around and I looked up at her. She smiled, but I didn't like her smile. Those eves never warmed, even when she softened her lips.

  "You know your grandmother is very concerned about what has been going on between you and Ian. You know that's one of the reasons she has me here now. Whatever his reasons for his actions with you, they were inappropriate, Jordan. Your mother was on her way home to make that clear, too," she said, and I raised my eves to look at her again. "I have to take her place now. That's why your grandmother wanted me here."

  How did she know that Mama had been coming home for that reason? Did Grandmother Emma tell her that and tell her Mama was angry at Ian? Was Daddy?

  "It's unfortunate that she and your father were in the accident, but your grandmother is a very wise person. You know she is, right?"

  "Yes," I said. I was still very hurt and didn't want to be with her or talk to her and I hated agreeing with her now.

  "Well, as I said, I'm here now to carry out what your parents were surely going to do. They would make sure you were protected, that you weren't abused by anyone, and that your problem was handled in a professional and successful manner.

  It is not the subject for discussion among children. Curiosity can be a good thing if it is done properly, but you remember that curiosity killed the cat," she said, with that smile mask back on her face.

  I knew that expression.

  "Satisfaction brought him back," I muttered. Ian always said that whenever anyone talked about the c
at. He believed curiosity was healthy and important and that the only people who feared it were people who had something to hide or something about which they would be embarrassed.

  She glared at me now, even her weak smile disappearing. "Sit," she said, nodding at the settee again. I moved obediently to it.

  "Now then, there are words you may use and words you may not as regards your problem. If you should have the womanly problem that occurs monthly, for example. I want you to refer to it as your monthlies. Understand? You tell me you think you're having your monthlies. Do not use any other word for it. Even so, never say it aloud, even to me. Whisper it. What we'll do is make sure you have a sanitary napkin."

  "It's not a napkin," I said. "It's a cigar."

  Her eyes widened. "I will give you the benefit of the doubt because of your age. Jordan, but that. I want you to know, is also disgusting. Think before you say such things to me or anyone else. If you must," she said, "ask it as a question. Ask if it's all right to say this or that. But only ask me and only whisper it to me, even when there is no one in the room with us."

  I scrunched my eyebrows together. Even when there was no one in the room with us? Why would I have to whisper to her then?

  "Someone could be listening in. Snooping,'" she muttered, and glanced at the door as if she believed Ian was just outside it with his ear to it. "Besides, a real lady never says things like that aloud. She hates to even have such words cross her lips. She hates even thinking about it.

  "Now, where was I?" she asked. She look very flustered. "Oh, yes. You are unfortunately now at a point where being underdressed or in any way undressed is not permitted in the company of others, not even other girls. It's unhealthy. You are not to parade around your room without your body being covered properly, even when you are alone. I will want to see your bathing suits to be sure they are adequate in that regard."

  "Mama just bought new ones for me," I said quickly.

  "Well. I'm sure she picked out the right sort of bathing suit, but it will still be good for me to see it. I'm only trying to do what is necessary to protect you," she added. "Your mother would want that. She would do the same things I'm doing if she could."