Hidden Jewel

by V. C. Andrews

  “It’s a tough, hard world out there,” Daddy said. “They’ve got to be tough and hard too.”

  “Alligators are tough and hard, but people make shoes and pocketbooks out of them,” Mommy retorted. No matter what the argument or discussion, Mommy had a way of reaching back into her Cajun past to draw up an analogy to make her point.

  After breakfast I returned to my room to fine-tune my valedictory address, and Catherine called.

  “Have you decided about tonight?” she asked.

  “It’s going to be so hard leaving my party. My parents are doing so much for me,” I moaned.

  “After a while they won’t even know you’re gone,” Catherine promised. “You know how adults are when they make parties for their children; they’re really making them for themselves and their friends.”

  “That’s not true about my parents,” I said.

  “You’ve got to go to Lester’s,” she whined. “We’ve been planning this for months, Pearl! Claude expects it. I know how much he’s looking forward to it. He told Lester, and Lester told me just so I would tell you.”

  “I’ll go to the party, but I don’t know about staying overnight,” I said.

  “Your parents expect you to stay out all night. It’s like Mardi Gras. Don’t be a stick-in-the-mud tonight of all nights, Pearl,” she warned. “I know what you’re worried about,” she added. Catherine was the only other person in the world who knew the truth about Claude and me.

  “I can’t help it,” I whispered.

  “I don’t know what you’re so worried about. You know how many times I’ve done it, and I’m still alive, aren’t I?” Catherine said, laughing.

  “Catherine …”

  “It’s your night to howl. You deserve it,” she said. “We’ll have a great time. I promised Lester I would see that you were there.”

  “We’ll see,” I said, still noncommittal.

  “I swear, Pearl Andreas, you’re going to be dragged kicking and screaming into womanhood.” She laughed again.

  Was this really what made you a woman? I wondered. I knew many of my girlfriends at school felt that way. Some wore their sexual experiences like badges of honor. They had a strut about them, a demeanor of superiority. It was as if they had been to the moon and back and knew so much more about life than the rest of us. Promiscuity had given them a sophistication and filled their eyes with insights about life, and especially about men. Catherine believed this about herself and was often condescending.

  “You’re book-smart,” she always told me, “but not life-smart. Not yet.”

  Was she right?

  Would this be my graduation night in more ways than one?

  It was difficult to return to my speech after Cather-ine and I ended our conversation, but I did. After lunch, Daddy, Mommy, and the twins sat in Daddy’s office to listen to me practice my delivery. Jean and Pierre sat on the floor in front of the settee. Jean fidgeted, but Pierre stared up at me and listened intently.

  When I was finished, they all clapped. Daddy beamed, and Mommy looked so happy, I nearly burst into tears myself. Graduation was set to begin at four, so I went upstairs to finish doing my hair. Mommy came up and sat with me.

  “I’m so nervous, Mommy,” I told her. My heart was already thumping.

  “You’ll do fine, honey.”

  “It’s one thing to deliver my speech to you and Daddy and the twins, but an audience of hundreds! I’m afraid I’ll just freeze up.”

  “Just before you start, look for me,” she said. “You won’t freeze up. I’ll give you Grandmere Catherine’s look,” she promised.

  “I wish I had known Grandmere Catherine,” I said with a sigh.

  “I wish you had too,” she said, and when I gazed at her reflection in the mirror, I saw the deep, faroff look in her eyes.

  “Mommy, you said you would tell me things today, things about the past.”

  She nodded and pulled back her shoulders as if she were getting ready to sit down in the dentist’s chair.

  “What is it you want to know, Pearl?”

  “You never really explained why you married your half brother, Paul,” I said quickly and lowered my eyes. Very few people knew that Paul Tate was Mommy’s half brother.

  “Yes, I did. I told you that you and I were alone, living in the bayou, and Paul wanted to protect and take care of us. He built Cypress Woods just for me.”

  I remembered very little about Cypress Woods. We had never been back since Paul’s death and the nasty trial for custody over me that had followed.

  “He loved you more than a brother loves a sister?” I asked timidly. Just contemplating them together seemed sinful.

  “Yes, and that was the tragedy we couldn’t escape.”

  “But why did you marry him if you were in love with Daddy and I had been born?”

  “Everyone thought you were Paul’s daughter,” she said. She smiled. “In fact, some of Grandmere Catherine’s friends were angry that he hadn’t married me yet. I suppose I let them believe it just so they wouldn’t think I was terrible.”

  “Because you had gotten pregnant with Daddy and returned to the bayou?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you just stay in New Orleans?”

  “My father had died, and life with Daphne and Gisselle was quite unpleasant. When Beau was sent to Europe, I ran off. Actually,” she said, “Daphne wanted me to have an abortion.”

  “She did?”

  “You wouldn’t have been born.”

  I held my breath just thinking about it.

  “So I returned to the bayou where Paul took care of us. He even helped me give birth to you. When I heard Daddy was engaged to someone in Europe, I finally gave in and married Paul.”

  “But Daddy wasn’t engaged?”

  “It was one of those arranged things. He broke up with the young lady and returned to New Orleans. My sister had been seeing him. She had a way of getting whatever she wanted, and your father was just another trophy she wanted,” Mommy said, not without a touch of bitterness in her voice.

  “Daddy married Gisselle because she looked so much like you, right?” It was something I had squeezed out of Daddy when he had decided to stem the flood of questions I poured at him.

  “Yes,” Mommy said.

  “But neither of you were happy?”

  “No, although Paul did so much for us. I devoted all my time to my art and to you. But then, when Gisselle became sick and comatose …”

  “You took her place.” I knew that story. “And then?”

  “She died, and there was the terrible trial after Paul’s tragic death in the swamp. Gladys Tate wanted vengeance. But you knew most of that, Pearl.”

  “Yes, but, Mommy …”

  “What, honey?”

  I lifted my eyes to gaze at her loving face. “Why did you get pregnant if you weren’t married to Daddy?” I asked. Mommy was so wise now; how could she not have been wise enough to know what would happen back then? I had to ask her even though it was a very personal question. I knew most of my girlfriends, including Catherine, could never have such an intimate conversation with their mothers.

  “We were so much in love we didn’t think. But that’s not an excuse,” she added quickly.

  “Is that what happens, why some women get pregnant without being married? They’re too much in love to care?”

  “No. Some just get too caught up with sex and lose control. You can be the smartest girl in school, the best reader, have the highest grades, but when it comes to your hormones … well, just be careful,” she said.

  “It doesn’t seem fair,” I said.

  “What?”

  “That men don’t face the same risks.”

  Mommy laughed. “Well, let that be another reason why you don’t let a young man talk you into something you don’t want to do. Maybe if men knew what it was like to give birth, they wouldn’t be so nonchalant about it all.”

  “They should feel the same labor pains,” I
said.

  “And get sick in the morning and walk around with their stomachs hanging low and their backs aching,” Mommy added.

  “And get urges to eat pickles and peanut butter sandwiches.”

  “And then have contractions.”

  We both roared and then hugged.

  Daddy, coming up the stairs, heard us and knocked on the door. “Exactly what are you two females giggling about now?” he asked.

  “Pregnant men,” Mommy said.

  “Huh?”

  We laughed again.

  “Women are not just another sex; they’re a different species altogether,” Daddy declared. That only made us laugh harder.

  After I had my hair the way I wanted it to look, I picked up the dress I would wear under my graduation gown. Then I opened the box that contained my cap and gown and screamed.

  “What is it, Pearl?” Mommy gasped.

  “My mortarboard’s gone, Mommy.”

  “What? That can’t be.” She looked herself and then she lifted her eyes. “Your brothers,” she declared and marched out. I followed her in my graduation gown as we descended the stairs, Mommy shouting for Pierre and Jean. They came running down the hallway, Pierre right behind Jean.

  “Did you take your sister’s graduation cap?” she demanded, her hands on her hips.

  Pierre looked guiltily at Jean, who shook his head.

  “Jean? Are you telling a fib?”

  “What’s happening?” Daddy demanded, hurrying up behind us.

  “Pearl’s graduation cap is missing, and I think these two imps have an idea where we can find it,” Mommy said, her eyes still on the twins. Pierre’s gaze dropped quickly.

  “Boys,” Daddy said in a stern voice.

  “I saw a hat on the statue of Adonis in the garden,” Jean confessed.

  “What?” Daddy and Mommy looked at each other, and then we all traipsed out to the garden.

  There was my graduation cap on the statue. People had been going past it all day and no one had noticed it or commented on it. Daddy’s lips curled into a quick smile and then became taut and thin after he looked at Mommy’s face. He got the cap for me and then turned to the twins, who looked terrified.

  “How could you pull such a prank on your sister? You both know how nervous she is.”

  “It was all my idea,” Pierre said.

  “No it wasn’t; it was mine,” Jean insisted.

  Daddy looked at the statue and then at them. “My guess is that Jean boosted Pierre up so he could put that cap on the statue’s head. Am I right, boys?”

  Pierre nodded.

  “I think tonight you two will go directly to your rooms and miss the party.”

  “Oh, no!” Jean exclaimed. “We just meant to tease Pearl. We were going to tell her where it was.”

  “Nevertheless …”

  “It’s all right, Daddy,” I said. “They’ll be little angels from now on, won’t you, little brothers?” I said. They both nodded vigorously, grateful for my forgiveness.

  “Well, if your sister can forgive you, you’re lucky. You should do everything you can to see that this is the happiest night of her life,” Daddy warned them.

  “We will,” Pierre promised.

  “Uh-huh. We will,” Jean said.

  “Get dressed and look very neat,” Daddy said. They turned and scurried back into the house.

  Mommy and Daddy gazed at each other and then at the statue before the three of us broke into laughter.

  It seemed to break the ice that had formed around me. I wasn’t as afraid of what was to come.

  But maybe I should have been. Maybe it was better to always be a little frightened of the future, so you would be careful. Maybe that was why Mommy believed so strongly in good and bad gris-gris and crossed herself three times if we ever came upon a funeral.

  Somehow I knew I would know for sure sooner than I ever dreamed.

  2

  Just Think Happy Thoughts

  Before I left for school to get ready for the graduation ceremony, Mommy came up to my room and helped me choose the dress I would wear at my party. We styled my hair and she talked a little about her school life in the bayou and her own graduation ceremony. Mommy and Gisselle had attended a private school in Baton Rouge their senior year, but according to Mommy, it was an unpleasant experience, except for her art class and her getting to know Louis Clairborne, a famous musician who occasionally played recitals in New Orleans and always came to our home for dinner when he was in the city. Whenever he came to our house, he always brought the twins and me something special from one of his European tours. I had dolls and music boxes from France and Holland.

  “Well, Mommy,” I said after Aubrey came to tell me Claude had arrived to take me to the graduation exercises, “Here I go.” I followed that with a tiny whimper.

  “Stop worrying,” she said and hugged me. As I started out, she cried, “Wait.”

  I turned and saw her sit on the vanity table chair and bend over to untie her good luck dime from her ankle.

  “I was going to give this to you before you left for college at the end of the summer, but I want you to have it now, Pearl.”

  “Oh, no, Mommy. That’s your good luck. I can’t take that.”

  “Of course you can. I can pass it on to you.”

  “But then you won’t have it,” I warned.

  “It’s time for you to have it, Pearl. Please take it,” she pleaded. “It will mean a great deal to me.”

  “I know how you feel about this special dime, Mommy,” I said shaking my head but moving forward to take it.

  “Sit down and I’ll fasten it around your ankle,” she told me. I did so. “There,” she said, patting my knee. “I know you think it’s silly, but whatever magic it has had for me it will have for you, too.”

  “I don’t think it’s silly, Mommy, but what about you? You won’t be wearing it anymore.”

  “I’ve had more magic than anyone deserves. Look at the wonderful family I have and the success I’ve had in my art. Now I live to see you and the boys enjoy your opportunities.”

  “Thank you, Mommy.”

  “But don’t tell your father just yet,” she warned throwing a glance at the doorway. “He thinks I get too carried away with the old beliefs, and he’ll only bawl me out for imposing them on you.”

  Mommy and I never kept serious secrets from Daddy, but there were a few things we didn’t tell him.

  “We can tell him afterward,” she added.

  “Okay, Mommy.” We hugged again and I was off. Claude was waiting outside by his car, pacing impatiently.

  “Hi,” I called and hurried down the steps. He stepped forward to kiss me. Lately he was shoving his tongue into my mouth every time. This time he not only did that but held me so close for so long that I had to pull free.

  “Please, Claude. We’re right in front of my house!”

  He shrugged, brushing off the reprimand as if it were a mosquito on his shoulder.

  “Well, the day has arrived. Our release from prison,” he declared.

  “Is that what you thought school was, Claude?”

  “Hey, we won’t have adults looking over our shoulders as much from now on. To me, that’s a release, and tonight”—he smiled—“is our time to howl, right?” He tried to kiss me again.

  “I guess so,” I said, stepping toward the car and away from him. Claude’s exuberance frightened me a little. He was like a young man ready to march through locked doors.

  “Don’t look so sad,” he said. He opened the car door, and I slipped in quickly. “Only a few others will be at Lester’s tonight,” he told me after getting in beside me. “No deadbeats. And we might have a little more than booze,” he added and winked.

  “More than booze? What do you mean?”

  “You know.” He winked again.

  “I know what I don’t want to see you do, and you know what I won’t do,” I added firmly. We had had this discussion before. Claude stopped smiling.
/>   “Ease up. You only graduate from high school once,” he said.

  I pressed my lips together and swallowed back the words that would surely cause an argument. For now I had more important things on my mind—namely, my speech.

  There was so much excitement at the school when we arrived. I joined Catherine and some of our friends in the girls’ room for a last minute put-together. Girls were borrowing lipstick, spraying on cologne, dabbing their cheeks with makeup, and many were smoking. Diane offered me a cigarette, and I refused, as usual.

  “Right. The little doctor doesn’t want to poison her lungs,” she quipped, and the other girls laughed.

  “That’s true, Diane. The fact is, just standing in here and breathing the secondhand smoke is dangerous. That’s already been proven.”

  The girls around me looked glum for a moment.

  “That’s so stupid. What do you think, you’re going to live forever?” Diane retorted. Her friends smiled.

  “No, but I know what it’s like to get lung cancer. It isn’t pleasant,” I said sharply.

  “Miss Goody Two-shoes. Just listen to her. What a drag. I hope your speech isn’t depressing. This is supposed to be a happy occasion.” Everyone was looking at me.

  “It’s not depressing,” I said defensively. “Excuse me a moment,” I said. “I’ve got to use the bathroom.”

  Laughter followed me into the stall. I heard them suddenly quiet down and start filing out. When I emerged, there was no one left. Confused, but happy that I didn’t have to argue anymore, I left too. It wasn’t until I had slipped my graduation gown on and put on my cap that I realized I must have left my speech in the bathroom. In a panic, I ran back. But it wasn’t there!

  Maddeningly frantic, I ran up and down the corridor, questioning every girl in the line, but no one knew anything.

  “What’s up?” Claude asked.

  “My speech is missing. Someone took it when I went to the bathroom,” I told him.

  “No kidding. What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I turned to Catherine. She looked as if she wanted to say something but was too afraid. I spun around, desperate. Mr. Stegman, the teacher in charge of the procession, was ordering me to get in place.