DeBeers 03 Twisted Roots

by V. C. Andrews

  "Oh," I said before we ended our conversation and finding it remarkable that I had forgotten.

  "What?"

  "They brought my baby brother home from the hospital."

  "Hey, great," he said. "Lot of excitement there. huh?"

  "Yes." I said,

  "I'll be in school by third period." he promised and said good night.

  I fell asleep faster than I expected I would. I was anticipating a night of tossing and turning, my bed becoming a small rowboat on a wild sea of dark dreams. When I heard the commotion in the hallway. I thought I was trapped in some nightmare. It took me a few moments to realize I wasn't asleep and that it was all really happening.

  I got up quickly and went to m door. Miguel, in his pajamas pants but with his jacket and shoes on, was charging down the corridor toward the stairway.

  "What's going on?" I called.

  "Oh. Hannah." he said. "Your mother is in a panic. She woke up and looked at little Claude and is convinced that he wasn't breathing. It's all the fault of that damn intern who put SIDS in her head."

  "SIDS? What's that?" I asked.

  "Sudden infant death syndrome." he muttered. "I'm getting the car ready. We're taking the baby over to the hospital to have the doctor check him out. Your mother won't sleep a wink if we don't."

  "But what is..."

  He continued down the stairs. I walked down to Mommy's bedroom. She had her coat on over her nightgown, and she was holding little Claude.

  "What happened, Mommy?" I asked.

  She was staring down at him and gently rocking him. I couldn't believe she hadn't heard me.

  "Mommy?"

  She looked up quickly. "What? Not now. Hannah!" she cried before I could utter another sound. "Just go to sleep. I have to take the baby to the hospital."

  "But--"

  "Where's Miguel? What's taking him so long?"

  "What's SIDS?" I asked her.

  Her eyes went wide with terror.

  "Why did you say that?"

  "I just spoke--"

  "It's not that! It can't be. Can it?" she asked, looking down at little Claude as if she expected he would begin to speak intelligent sentences and reply to her question and concern. She continued to rock him gently.

  I had never seen her so unhinged. Was this the same woman who coolly and intelligently evaluated other people's hysteria and emotional crises, the woman who was always there for me before, helping me cope with the disappointments I had with my father's family and with my half brothers?

  When she looked toward the doorway where I was standing, she didn't appear to see me at all. Her face was contorted, her lips twisted, her eyes still very wide and wild,

  "Okay." I heard Miguel say behind me, and I stepped back. He came charging into the bedroom and guided Mommy out. She didn't even glance at me as she passed me in the hallway. I followed behind them slowly and watched as they descended. Miguel lunged to open the front door, and a moment later they were gone.

  My heart stopped pounding. but I knew I wasn't going to fall asleep again, not for a long time. Instead. I went to my computer and pulled up my encyclopedia to read about SIDS. According to what was written, I learned that it was a medical disorder that claimed the lives of nearly 3,000 babies one week to one year of age in the U.S. each year. It had also been called crib death and occurred during sleep, striking without any real warning, even though the babies appeared to be healthy. The cause, according to the article, remained vague.

  I read on about the recommendations

  concerning prevention, but nothing seemed to be a 100 percent guarantee. How horrible. I thought. A mother like Mommy could live within the confines of this terrible nightmare for well into a year before the fear was reduced.

  Surely, this would reinforce her belief that a curse hung over this family. Maybe it did. I thought. Maybe it wasn't so foolish to think so after all.

  I dozed off and on for hours. Just before the light of day I heard them return and come up the stairs. They both looked exhausted.

  "What happened?" I asked. Miguel helped Mommy down the hallway. She didn't turn to me. He looked back,

  "We left him there for observation. Just a day," he said. I heard Mommy groan.

  "It's just a day." he repeated for her benefit and continued to guide her down to their bedroom. I waited until their door closed, and then I went back to bed and overslept.,

  None of my friends missed the fact that both Heyden and I were late for school. I could see their little minds going a thousand words a minute. I felt like a bull, eager to charge into their red faces of glee and knock those smirks and coy, twisted smiles off them.

  Heyden was surprised I was late. too. We were both sent to the office for special passes. Then I explained why and he understood.

  "I'm sorry, It must have been a hairy situation. Everything will be all right. I'm sure," Heyden said quickly. At least I finished the song. I can't wait for you to hear it and then sing it."

  "Not today. Heyden." I said. "I've go to get home. My mother will need me," I said. He looked more disappointed than I had expected.

  "What can you do?" he asked.

  "I can't do much maybe, but my being there is important. She would want me there."

  It annoyed me that I had to explain, but I would soon discover that was very optimistic.

  It would make me think Heyden was right after all, and it would leave me feeling like I was the one who should have suffered SIDS.

  6

  Pair of Earrings

  .

  Lila, our maid, told me little Claude was

  already home again by the time I returned from school. Surprisingly, however. Mommy's bedroom door was closed. I knocked on it gently, and when it opened. Miguel stepped out and closed the door softly behind him. The moment he turned to me, he pressed his right forefinger against his lips.

  "She's asleep," he said. "She wouldn't go to sleep unless I promised to be at her and little Claude's side while they both slept "

  "What about your afternoon classes?" "My intern is administering an exam for me in both classes."

  "Can I see the baby?" I asked. "Not right now. Hannah. For the moment let's just keep things quiet."

  "What happened at the hospital?"

  "Nothing remarkable. Your mother might just have overreacted." he said, whispering.

  But isn't this something that could happen at any time during the first year and without any warning and something you can't tell by examining a baby?" Miguel raised his eyebrows.

  "Done some research, have you?"

  "Yes."

  "Maybe it's better we don't talk about it." he said. "Let's not keep it on the front burner, always on her mind, if you know what I mean,"

  "I just thought she would appreciate my knowing all about it." I said. not hiding my

  disappointment. When would I do something right in relation to my new brother and my mother?

  "Oh, she would. She will," Miguel said. "But not right now," He gazed back at the door. "I better go back inside." he said. "If she wakes and doesn't find me there..."

  "I could sit with her, if you like."

  "Maybe later, Right now she's just a stick of dynamite. Oh." he said, just as he reached back for the doorknob. "your father wants you to call him when you get a chance."

  "Daddy? Why?"

  "He didn't say. Actually, it was his secretary who called for him."

  "Thanks," I said and watched him go back into the bedroom, closing the door softly and closing me out.

  Even if my mother was a stick of dynamite. I thought, why would my presence set her off?

  I went to my room and called my father's law offices. "It's Hannah," I said as soon as Mrs. Gouter answered.

  One moment and I'll patch you through to his cell phone," she said. A few seconds later I heard him say hello and knew from the background noises that he was in his car.

  "Hannah, how are you? How's life in the maternity ward?" he asked with laughter in hi
s voice,

  "Not easy." I replied.

  "I'll bet, Anyway. I would like you to come to dinner tomorrow night. Special occasion. It will just be the five of us." he added.

  "What special occasion?"

  "Don't tell me you forgot your brothers' birthday." he said. "Don't worry." he continued before I could admit that I had. "I asked Mrs. Gouter to get something that will be coming from you. I'll tell you what it is when I pick you up about six-thirty, okay? You can sign their birthday cards then. too."

  "I can drive myself. Daddy. I can use Mommy's car."

  "No, no," he insisted. "I'll come by to get you. I have a baby gift I'm bringing. too. Does he look Cuban?" he asked.

  "He looks like a little baby, Daddy. He's cute and he has Miguel's dark hair."

  "I thought he would. Better warn everyone I'm showing up an the grounds. I don't want them to sick any dogs an me."

  "We don't have any dogs. Daddy." I said.

  "I know. Hannah, but if you did, they would be trained to get Thatcher Eaton." he said and laughed, "Wouldn't be the first time." he added, "Okay, gotta go. I'm anxious to see you." he concluded, and then the line went dead.

  At least you do, I thought to myself and hung up.

  Just before dinner Mommy awoke and I was permitted entry to the bedroom, which to me now had the religious, sanctified atmosphere of a church. For some reason both Miguel and Mommy kept their voices to a volume barely above a whisper, even though little Claude was also awake and stirring. I thought

  Mommy looked drawn and pale, still quite exhausted from last night's ordeal and crisis.

  "-What did your father want?" she asked. Miguel had obviously told her he had called.

  'Tomorrow night is the dinner celebrating the twins' birthday." I told her. "He's coming by about six-thirty for me, and he said he's bringing a baby gift as well."

  "Something his secretary bought, no doubt."

  "I forgot to buy the twins any gifts." I confessed, "He remembered for me."

  "He doesn't remember those sort of things. Hannah. Mrs. Gouter has a detailed calendar she keeps for him. I once saw it. It had my birthday, your grandmother's birthday, even our wedding date written in it so she could remind him to get gifts."

  "He even forgets his own birthday," I said, defending him. "But when he remembers, he always takes me out then. too."

  "That's just a ruse, Hannah. The Eatons don't forget their own birthdays, believe me. Asher Eaton once hired a plane to drag a birthday greeting for Bunny Eaton around and around Palm Beach for nearly two hours, and that was followed by a party that rivaled a coronation."

  "If you hate them so much, why did you get involved with them at all?" I asked with a petulance that raised Miguel's eyebrows. Mommy just shook her head.

  "Might as well ask Eve why she ate the apple." she muttered, "Oh. I don't want to think about them. I have far more serious and important things to think about than the Eatons," she added and leaned over to gaze into the bassinet. Little Claude was swinging his arms and kicking his feet under the blanket.

  Mommy's face brightened. "He's so precious," she said. "A marvel."

  "When are we bringing Uncle Linden here to see him?" I asked. She looked up quickly.

  "Oh, not yet. Hannah. Not until we're sure everything is all right."

  "Why? What would Uncle Linden do?"

  "I just can't deal with him and this situation at the same time," she whined. I couldn't remember hearing that sort of note in her voice. I stared at her just like someone wondering if it was really her mother. Giving birth seemed to have changed her whole personality. Gone was the assurance, the strength that practically radiated from her and gave other people some self-confidence.

  "But you promised," I moaned.

  "Hannah, can you suspend this obsession you have with your uncle for a while?" she snapped at me. It felt as if she had slapped me.

  "I don't have an obsession. Mommy. What kind of thing is that to say?"

  Miguel stepped in between us.

  "Your mother just means for you to cool it for a little while. Hannah," he said in a soft, reasonable tone. "She wants Linden to see the baby just as much as you do, but we're going to try to keep things very quiet around Claude for a few days. The doctors think that's best, too." he said, closing and opening his eyes. "Best far Claude and best for your mother." he added, lifting his eyes toward the ceiling as a way of urging me to let it go.

  I still didn't understand how having Uncle Linden over would jeopardize anything, but I pressed my lips together and looked down.

  "Miguel." Mommy said with a voice full of panic and concern. She leaned over the bed and hovered above little Claude. "Hurry!" she cried.

  Miguel moved quickly to the bassinet and touched the baby's hand.

  "He's just dozing, Willow," Miguel said in a soft, calm voice. "It's all right. He's doing fine. Look at the color in his cheeks."

  She nodded, released a deep breath, and sank back against her big, fluff pillow. Her eyes drifted by me to the wall. Once I felt she and I were invisible to people in Palm Beach, Now I felt I was invisible to her.

  "Maybe we should all go down to dinner tonight, Willow." Miguel suggested, "It's been a while since we all sat and had dinner together. We'll bring the baby, of course," he added quickly.

  "No. no," she said. "That's not important. There's no need to go through all that just for a dinner. You and Hannah can have dinner together. Send Lila up with my food. I'm fine." she said. "I am, "she emphasized sharply when he didn't immediately aute.

  Miguel smiled. "Well then, maybe we'll all eat dinner up here. How's that?"

  "I'm not that hungry," I said. "I'm just having a sandwich and getting to my homework since I won't have time to do stuff tomorrow night."

  "Why not?" Mommy asked.

  "I just told you. Mommy. Daddy's coming to get me for the birthday dinner."

  Hadn't she heard a ward I had said?

  "Oh, yes, right," she said. but I could see the information pass right through her head as she sat up again and leaned over to look at little Claude, "He should be hungry soon." she said. "I can almost feel his body churning with the need for nourishment. It's truly amazing. It's as if he's still inside me, still connected." she said, her voice full of awe and wonder. "I'm sure it's because of the breast-feeding."

  Rubber bands stretched and snapped inside my chest.

  "Then you shouldn't worry about him not breathing. Mommy," I told her. I could feel my eyes narrowing. She looked up. surprised. I shrugged. "If he stops, you'll feel it. too," I said.

  I glanced at Miguel. He looked very displeased with me.

  "There is nothing funny or frivolous about this. Hannah," Mommy said. "He could be susceptible to SIDS. It's a serious condition that--"

  "I know what SIDS is." I interrupted. "Sudden infant death syndrome."

  She glared at me. "Then," she said in measured tones. "you should know better."

  The tears felt like drops of boiling water beneath my eyelids. I kept them back.

  "Sorry," I muttered, turned and headed out. "Sorry I was ever barn." I added under my breath and hurried down the hallway to my room, but instead of going in. I paused at my door and then continued slowly until I was standing at the door of the infamous bedroom, the forbidden room, shut up and ignored like some unwanted child.

  I knew bits and pieces of the story that haunted our family, a story that climaxed in this room. Mommy had doled out the details to me in measured doses, adding mare information as I grew older, just recently explaining why Uncle Linden was bitter about Joya Del Mar. I knew in my heart that there was much yet to be learned and even more to be understood,

  What I did know was that after my greatgrandmother's husband, a naval officer, was killed in a helicopter accident, she and my grandmother, who was about twelve at the time, moved to West Palm Beach, where my great-grandmother, Jackie Lee Houston, worked as a waitress to support herself and her daughter. One day she met Winston Montgom
ery, a very wealthy widower twenty-five years her senior. He fell in love with my great-grandmother. who I could tell from pictures was a very beautiful woman. He married her, bringing her to Joya del Mar, After Winston died, my great-grandmother foolishly fell in love with and married a Palm Beach playboy named Kirby Scott.

  I knew that it was in this room that he had seduced his wife's daughter, my grandmother, who then became pregnant with Uncle Linden. Mommy had explained how my grandmother's attempt to keep her pregnancy a secret resulted in a great deal of confusion and bitterness for Uncle Linden.

  I thought about this room from time to time, and from time to time, I took glimpses of it, but the onus of sin and the understanding that all of our family troubles originated with a single lustful act within the room kept it forbidden and even a little terrifying for me. If there was such a thing as a curse on our family, it lived and breathed within the walls of this scene of a sex crime, and if I spent too much time within it, or even touched anything inside the roam, that curse might leap into me and live under my heart, waiting far a chance to do its wicked work.

  But at the moment I was so twisted and turned inside. I felt the need to be reckless, to challenge Fate itself. I glanced back at Mommy's bedroom, The door was still closed. Miguel was still with her I knew Mommy didn't want me wandering around in this room. It made her nervous, but defying her at the moment seemed not only satisfying, but delicious. She talked about the forbidden fruit, compared herself to Eve in Paradise. Here it was for me to taste, and taste I would.

  I opened the door and stepped into the bedroom. Although it was never used far guests or otherwise. Lila. as Mrs. Davis before her, kept it neat and clean, although not dusted and vacuumed as often as the other rooms in the house. However, there were no cobwebs permitted here, no dust or grime. The linen was not changed, but with the curtains drawn, the lights off, nothing looked faded.

  The dark pine four-poster bed had cream silk drapes dawn each post that paddled at the floor. The headboard was embossed with the figures of two terns facing each other but soaring, their heads and eyes lifted toward some heavenly destination, the tips of their wings touching each other. I once overheard Miguel tell Mommy that the artist who designed and constructed the headboard was suggesting that the inhabitants would find ecstasy within its sheets.