Heartsong

by V. C. Andrews

  Aunt Sara nodded, her eyes wide with fear and worry.

  "Of course, I will, Cary," she said. "Yes. All of us will do what we can to help him understand, won't we?" she asked, turning to me. I smiled.

  "Yes, Aunt Sara. Did you eat anything, Cary?"

  "I had a candy bar. Got it from the machine in the hospital.'

  "Oh. Well I kept everything warm for you, Cary," Aunt Sara said. "Just sit and I'll get you a plate."

  "I'm not hungry, Ma."

  "Of course you are, especially after the day you've had," she insisted. "Now," she added when he opened his mouth, "if you expect me to tell your father what to do, at least listen when I speak to you," she said.

  Cary laughed.

  "Okay. Let me just call Roy and see about the repairs on the boat. I have to give Dad a report before he goes to sleep, too," he said and went to the phone.

  Afterward, May and I joined him at the dining room table and watched him eat. When Aunt Sara went back into the kitchen, he leaned over to whisper to me.

  "He's bad, Melody, cranky and meaner than ever. He swears he's going to sneak back on the boat first chance he gets. I told him I wouldn't go out then and he fumed at me for a good half hour until I calmed him down. When I first got there, he accused me of not checking the oil before I took out the boat. I always check the engine, Melody," he assured me. "I know what can happen out there," he said.

  "I believe you and I don't know why he wouldn't."

  "It's just his condition, I guess. It makes him ornery."

  "Well, he should be just the opposite. He should be pleased and proud he has a son who can step in during this emergency and keep the business going. I'll tell him, too," I threatened.

  "No, please. That's all I need, him thinking we were conspiring against him while he was ill."

  "He thinks it of me anyway, Cary."

  "No, he doesn't," Cary said, but I saw the way he dropped his eyes quickly.

  "What did he ask you about me? Come on," I urged. He started to look up and reply but Aunt Sara returned. When she left again, I repeated my question. Reluctantly, he answered.

  "His brain is all jumbled from the heart attack, I'm sure."

  "Come on, Cary."

  "He wanted to know if you were spreading stories about him and your mother. I told him he had to be hallucinating-to think of something like that and he got so mad at me, I had to leave the room for a while. That's when I met his doctor and heard what was going to happen. Can you think of any reason why he would ask me that question?" Cary asked, his gazed fixed on my face.

  "No," I said quickly. What Uncle Jacob had said to me in the CCU was never meant to be repeated. It was as sacred as a dying person's confession to a priest. I had no intention of uttering a word of it, ever.

  Cary shrugged and returned to his dinner.

  "That's why I said he was hallucinating," he muttered. He eyed me scrupulously as he chewed his food and I turned to May and asked her if she wanted to play Chinese checkers.

  Before we rose to go into the living room, I told everyone I was going to visit my grandmother tomorrow. Aunt Sara stopped clearing the dishes.

  "Oh dear, is that wise, Melody?" she asked.

  "Very wise," I said. "I like her and she likes me. We have to get to know each other before it's too late."

  "Yes, I suppose you do," Aunt Sara said, "but I'm sure Olivia--.

  "Has nothing to say about it," I chimed in quickly.

  "Oh dear," Aunt Sara said. "All this commotion at once. Oh, dear." She hurried back to the sanctuary of her kitchen.

  Cary gazed up at me with eyes of appreciation and glee.

  "Grandma Olivia has met her match in you, Melody Logan," he said, struggling to contain his amusement.

  "Yes, she has. Whether she likes it or not," I fired back, and Cary gave in to a fit of laughter.

  Confused at all the commotion, May tugged on my hand for explanations. Instead, I took her into the living room for our game of Chinese checkers. Cary came in to watch us play and fell asleep in his father's chair. No one had the heart to wake him.

  "Jacob does that often now," Aunt Sara said gazing at Cary with her eyes twin pools of sadness. She sighed. "Let him sleep."

  May and I went up to bed. Aunt Sara tinkered around the house until she had gotten herself tired enough and came up, too. Hours later, I heard Cary's footsteps on the stairway. He paused at my door and then went on to his own room. The boy in him was being shoved further and further back into his memory as he was forced to become a man of responsibility and duty. How lucky were those who could have a full and happy youth.

  Holly was there in the morning as she had promised. It was the first time Cary had seen her car, or her, for that matter. She wore one of her long, flowing dresses, a matching headband, opal earrings in a silver setting, a jade necklace, and her pink and green sandals. She had even painted a small pink and green dot on each of her cheeks.

  At first Cary was amazed and then he thought it was all very amusing. Aunt Sara merely dropped her jaw and retreated into the house with May. I introduced Cary to Holly and she immediately asked him his date of birth.

  "Why?" he asked.

  "I know you're a Gemini," she said, "but I need more details about your birthday."

  "Huh?" Cary turned to me.

  "We have to go," I said quickly. "I want to make visiting hours."

  "Oh yes," Holly said. "Perhaps I'll see you soon and we can talk again," Holly told Cary.

  He nodded and I got into Holly's car.

  "I made something for your grandmother," she told me as we drove away. "It's right on the back seat."

  I turned and found a crystal embedded in a blob of silvery-gray stone that looked like petrified scrambled eggs.

  "What is it?" I had to ask.

  "It's a paperweight," Holly explained, "but that's lepidolite in the center. It aids muscles, strengthens the heart, and is very beneficial to the blood. What is most important, it aids sleep, which I know is a problem for the elderly. Try to get her to keep it close to her bed," she advised.

  "Thank you, Holly," I said, wondering not only what Grandma Belinda would think, but what Mrs. Greene and her assistants would do.

  Holly thought the rest home was in a truly beautiful and tranquil place.

  "Whoever chose the location was sensitive to positive energy," she declared. "I can feel it. It's ideal for meditation."

  There were a half dozen or so other vehicles in the visitors' parking lot when we pulled up. I saw a man and a woman helping an elderly lady walk along a garden pathway. The two elderly gentlemen I had met when I came the first time were on the porch again, sitting in the same seats. Only today, both were wearing suits and ties and had their hair neatly combed.

  "Well now," the one who had first spoken to me last time said, "you come to entertain us, have you?" He was looking at Holly.

  "No sir," she said. "We're just visiting someone."

  "That them?" the other man shouted.

  "No, they're just visiting someone."

  "Who'd you say they were?"

  "Just visiting," he repeated. Holly laughed and followed me through the front entrance.

  Mrs. Greene was in the lobby, talking with some of the residents, who were apparently waiting to be entertained. One of the attendants, a tall, dark haired man with a pock-marked face and thin, very red lips, stepped out from behind the desk on our right, where he had been talking to a young girl. Mrs. Greene straightened up quickly and hurried toward us, the attendant moving to join her.

  "Yes?" she said.

  "I'm Melody Logan. Remember? I visited my grandmother, Belinda Gordon, recently."

  "Yes, I recall." She pulled her shoulders back and stiffened her jaw. "I remember I specifically asked you not to give her any candy," she said sharply.

  "What?"

  "I explained how important it was that she not be given any candy. They share what they are given and they don't know who is diabetic and who isn't. I
thought you understood that. It's a simple enough request," she added, drawing her lips thin.

  "I didn't give her any candy," I said.

  "No? Well she had it in her room right after you left," Mrs. Greene said with a twisted smirk.

  "I don't think Melody would lie, ma'am," Holly said softly. She had a way of disagreeing with someone that made it sound pleasant, but Mrs. Greene stepped back and drank her in with a look of disgust.

  "And who might you be?"

  "Just a friend," Holly said.

  "Yes, well, I'm afraid I can't permit anyone but immediate family to visit," Mrs. Greene said, "and we do ask that our visitors dress decently. We value our reputation here. Our clients are highly respectable people and there are a number of them visiting their loved ones at the moment."

  "Decency comes from the heart, not from our outer garb," Holly said, still speaking softly.

  Mrs. Greene ignored her and turned back to me.

  "I have spoken with Mrs. Logan," she said, "and she has left instructions that for the time being, no one is to visit her sister. I assumed she would have told you."

  "What do you mean, no one? I'm her granddaughter!" I raised my voice. "I'm not just anyone!"

  The attendant moved closer. Some of the residents stopped talking and turned our way.

  "Please, lower your voice," Mrs. Greene said shooting a glance at some people who were visiting a relative.

  "Why can't I see my grandmother?" I demanded.

  "Her condition is very delicate. We're just trying to do what's best for her," Mrs. Greene replied with a smile so phony it dripped.

  "Surely, having a loved one visit can't be anything but good," Holly said. Mrs. Greene shot her a look that, if it had been a dart, would have pierced Holly's pleasant smile and gone right through her head.

  "I'm not leaving here without seeing my grandmother," I fired at her and planted my feet so firmly, it was as if they were nailed to the floor.

  Mrs. Greene studied us a moment. I saw a look of retreat in her eyes, which quickly fell to the gift in my hand.

  "And what is that you're bringing her?"

  "It's a crystal paperweight and it has healing powers," I said.

  Mrs. Greene smiled coldly.

  "I can't permit it. We have to have control over what is brought into the rooms."

  "What harm can this do her?"

  "I can't permit it," she repeated. "It's against my better judgment, but I will permit you, and you alone, to visit with your grandmother for half an hour."

  "Why am I limited in time? No one else is," I protested.

  "That's my final decision. I have a major responsibility here. The welfare of my guests, all my guests, must be taken into consideration. And I repeat, only immediate family," she said, sending another look of disgust Holly's way.

  Holly put her hand on mine and smiled.

  "I'll just wait for you out on the porch," she said with a wink. I knew she would enjoy speaking with the two elderly gentlemen. She took the paperweight from my hands and turned to Mrs. Greene. "Perhaps I can make this a present to you," she said. "One of the qualities of lepidolite is that it enhances one's expression of inner light and joy."

  "Ridiculous," Mrs. Greene said and pivoted. -"Gerson, show Miss Logan to Miss Gordon's room. "She's in her room?" I asked. It was such a

  beautiful day, and most of the residents had been

  brought to the lobby for their entertainment. Why was

  Grandma Belinda shut up in her room?

  "Yes," she said, lifting the corner of her mouth

  until it cut into her cheek. "She's not feeling well

  today. That's why I want to limit your visit. Your

  cooperation will be appreciated," she added and

  returned to the people with whom she had been

  talking when we arrived.

  "This way," the attendant said. He wore a sharp,

  sarcastic smile on his lips. Holly pressed my hand and

  nodded.

  "Go on. I'll be fine," she said.

  I followed the attendant through the lobby and down the corridor toward the residents' rooms, my heart thumping with every furious thought that

  bounced from one side of my brain to the other. I was even angrier when I saw Grandma

  Belinda. Her door was shut and she was sitting in her

  rocking chair near the window, gazing out like a child

  who had been punished and sentenced to stand in a

  corner. The lights were off, so the room was full of

  shadows. She was wrapped in a shawl and appeared

  smaller than I remembered her. Her eyes were red, her

  face pale, and it looked as if she had been crying. I

  waited for a moment, but she didn't even notice I had

  entered her room.

  "You got a half hour," the attendant reminded

  me firmly and stepped out, closing the door behind

  me. I went to Grandma Belinda and touched her hand.

  She turned slowly and looked up at me,

  expressionless, indifferent, a lost lamb.

  "Hi Grandma. It's Melody. I came to see you

  again. How are you?" I asked quickly. "Why are you

  sitting in the shadows?"

  She stared at me blankly, her eyelids blinking

  rapidly.

  I told her I was pregnant," she began, "and I

  told her it was Nelson's baby. She got very angry and swore at me and called me a liar. She called me terrible names and said she wouldn't help me if I told my lie to anyone else, ever, but I wasn't lying. I

  wouldn't lie."

  "Nelson? You mean Judge Childs?" I asked and

  sat on the bed, facing her. She rocked and nodded. "Yes. There were other young men. I've always

  been very popular," she said with a flirtatious smile.

  Then, in a heartbeat her face changed expression until

  she looked older, serious. "But I should know who is

  the father of my child, don't you think?" Her face

  turned angry. "How can you doubt me, Olivia? You

  want to doubt me; you don't want it to be true because

  you've always loved Nelson. Well, don't blame me

  because he loves me more than he loves you." "Grandma," I said softly. She seemed to be

  looking through me and not at me, her gaze distant. "Stop that laughing. I'm not lying. I'm not!" she

  said, straining her throat until the veins in her neck

  were well outlined.

  "It's all right, Grandma. It's all right. I believe

  you," I said and took her hand.

  She stopped rocking and looked at me. She

  began to blink rapidly again. And then, like magic,

  her face brightened with a childlike smile.

  "It's a nice day," she said, glancing through the

  window. "It should be my birthday."

  She laughed and rocked. Then she stopped

  again and her face grew darker, her eyes small, her

  lips taut. She shook her head.

  "I was screaming upstairs, screaming at the top

  of my voice. It's time. It's time! The door was locked.

  She wanted me to lose the baby, you know. Oh, don't

  look at me that way," she said, turning to me. "You're

  always taking her side."

  "Grandma," I said softly. "It's Melody." She shook her head. Was she telling me the

  truth or was everything so jumbled in her mind that

  her words were like one crossword puzzle confused

  with another, the answers all to the wrong questions? "She left me, no doctor, no midwife, no one. I

  guess you never knew that part, huh?" A crazed twist

  shaped her lips and she smiled so coldly it put ice in

  my veins. "I delivered my own baby and when she

  came up and found the baby was all right, she nearly

  die
d herself with disappointment. You never knew. I

  can see it on your face, Nelson. You never knew." She turned and rocked. I held my breath until I

  saw her chin begin to quiver and the first tear emerge. "Grandma," I said. "Please, try to look at me

  and see me. Please."

  What had they done to her? Why was she so

  much more confused, lost. How long had she been

  kept in this room? Her rocking stopped again. She

  took a deep breath and lowered her face until her chin

  rested on her chest. Then she closed her eyes and in

  moments was asleep.

  I sat, waiting to see if she would wake and go

  into another exclamation, drawing thoughts,

  memories, words from some secret place in her mind.

  The minutes ticked and she slept.

  If Neison Childs was the father of her baby . . .

  then he was-my real grandfather, after all, and that

  made Kenneth my uncle. Did he know? What if none

  of this were true? What if it were?

  Oh please wake up, Grandma, I thought. I want

  to know more; I want to be sure.

  There was a gentle knock on the door. When I

  turned, a short, plump nurse entered carrying a cup

  and some water.

  "She's dozed off again, has she?" she remarked. "What's wrong with her? She's so different

  from the way she was the last time I was here, and it

  wasn't that long ago," I questioned.

  "When they reach this age and they've been sick or lived a hard life, changes can occur from hour to hour," she said. "She's falling into Alzheimer's,"

  she added. "In some cases that's merciful."

  "Well not in hers. She has a lot of years left and

  she can get better," I cried.

  The nurse raised her eyebrows and looked at

  me as if I were the one who was suffering mental

  aberrations. She shook Grandma Belinda's shoulder. "Come on, Belinda. Time for your medicine,"

  she said.

  Grandma's eyes fluttered open and she turned

  slowly.

  "Come on, dear. Take your pills. Remember?" "Pills? Again? Why so many pills, Olivia? Did

  the doctor really say I should take these, too?" "Yes, he did."

  The nurse looked at me.

  "Who's Olivia?" she whispered.

  "Her sister."