Hidden Jewel

by V. C. Andrews

  “I can’t find my speech!” I told him. “I had it with me when I went into the bathroom, but it’s not there!”

  “Oh, dear,” he said and went to fetch Dr. Foster, the principal.

  “Did you look real good, Pearl? Go back and check once more,” he suggested. “I’ll hold the procession back a few more minutes.”

  I gazed at Catherine.

  “It has to be there,” she offered. A horrid thought occurred to me. I returned to the bathroom and threw open the stall next to the one I had used. There was my speech, floating in the toilet.

  “Oh, no!” I cried and dipped into the water to retrieve it. Many of the words had been washed away. I wiped down the paper as carefully as I could with a towel and then went out to take my place at the head of the procession.

  “You found it?” Dr. Foster asked.

  I held up the soggy sheets.

  “How did that happen?”

  “Yes,” I said loud enough for everyone in my class to hear. “How did it happen?”

  My heart was pounding so hard I thought I was sure to make a fool of myself in front of all the families and guests. I don’t know how my legs carried me down the corridor and out the door, but I had no choice.

  I really didn’t have time to worry about myself. We marched to the stage that had been erected outside for our graduation exercises and took our seats. I tried not to look at the audience. There was so much noise—laughter, chatter, babies crying, small children being warned to sit quietly—that it sounded like bedlam. No one would hear my speech anyway, I thought. Why worry?

  We had a warm, bright day for our ceremony with a light breeze that made the flag flutter and strands of hair dance over our shoulders. The sky was turquoise with patches of fluffy clouds. In the distance I could hear the bellow of the steamboats preparing to carry tourists up the Mississippi.

  After the introductions and some short remarks by our principal, I was called to the lectern. My legs wobbled as I stood up. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, opened my eyes, and walked to the lectern. My classmates were dead silent, all wondering what I would do. I searched the audience until I found Mommy gazing at me confidently, and then the words just came. I didn’t need to look at the paper. The words were printed in my head.

  To my surprise, everyone had grown quiet. I raised my head, took a deep breath, and began. I thanked the principal and then, addressing the faculty and our parents, families, and friends, began in a voice that grew stronger and stronger as I delivered the speech I had composed over the past few days. Amazingly, once I started, the words flowed. From time to time I gazed at the faces in the audience and saw that people were really listening. Most wore sweet, appreciative smiles. The twins were staring up at me, both with their mouths slightly open, neither fidgeting.

  When I concluded, the applause boomed in my ears, and when I looked at Mommy and Daddy, I saw the glow in their faces. Even Pierre and Jean looked impressed. They stopped clapping at the exact same moment, and when I returned to my seat, I gazed at Claude and saw him smiling proudly and elbowing his buddies to make them jealous. Diane Ratner and her friends looked devastated, but Catherine hugged me quickly.

  “That was great. I knew you could do it, no matter what. I actually listened to the whole thing, even though I didn’t understand some of it.”

  “Thanks,” I said dryly. I didn’t want her to think I was satisfied with her weak demonstration of friend-ship. She had disappointed me.

  I sat back as the principal and our class adviser went to the lectern to hand each of us our diploma. When I rose to get mine, the audience gave me another thunderous ovation. Daddy was snapping pictures, and the twins were waving and cheering.

  “Nice job, young lady,” the principal said. “Good luck.”

  I thanked him and smiled at my parents one more time for Daddy’s camera.

  After the ceremony I was inundated with compliments on my speech. All of my teachers stopped by, as did some of my classmates and their parents, to offer their best wishes. I was happy to see that my aunt Jeanne—the sister of Mommy’s half brother, Paul—and her husband, James, were there and were waiting to congratulate me, too.

  Aunt Jeanne was the only member of the Tate family who had anything to do with us. She was about an inch or so taller than Mommy, with dark brown hair and almond-shaped eyes. Mommy said that Aunt Jeanne looked more like her mother, Gladys, than her father, Octavius, because she had her mother’s deep, dark complexion, sharp chin, and nearly perfect nose. I liked her because she was always pleasant and sweet to us and especially sweet to me.

  “I loved your speech, Pearl honey” Aunt Jeanne said, hugging me.

  “It was something,” Uncle James added, nodding. He shook Daddy’s hand. “You have a lot to be proud of, Beau.”

  Mommy and Daddy were beaming so brightly, I got chills up and down my spine.

  “How is your family, Jeanne?” Mommy asked, a dark shadow crossing her face.

  “Mother’s got the gout on top of her arthritis. Daddy never changes. He buries himself in his business.” Aunt Jeanne smiled. “My sister Toby’s youngest turned sixteen, you know. I’ll be going to another graduation soon.”

  Aunt Jeanne and Uncle James had never had any children. I wasn’t sure why not. If Mommy knew, she never said.

  “You’re coming over to the house, aren’t you, Jeanne?” Mommy asked her.

  “Of course. We wouldn’t miss the party for the world,” she said. “You knew I would be here, Ruby,” she whispered, but loud enough for me to hear. I saw the way the two of them gazed into each other’s eyes, and I felt the unspoken words that passed between them, words I knew were all about my mother’s half brother, Paul, the man in my strange dream. “Paul would have been so proud of her,” Jeanne continued. Tears came to Mommy’s eyes as she nodded. They hugged again.

  Mommy turned to look for the twins, who were amusing themselves by weaving in and out among the crowd and teasing some of my girlfriends. For once, I was happy about their behavior. Mommy shouted for the boys to come along. It was time to go home and get ready for the party. Mommy threw her arm around me, and we all went to the limousine.

  “I’m so proud of you,” she said.

  I didn’t want to tell her about the prank my so-called friends had pulled on me in the bathroom. “I was so nervous. Didn’t it show?”

  “Not a bit. I told you that once you got started, the words would roll off your tongue. And they did,” Mommy declared.

  In the limousine, the twins teased me about the way I had shifted my eyes after certain phrases in my speech, but Mommy chastised them, and they smothered their giggles. My stomach wasn’t filled with outerflies anymore. Now it felt positively cavernous. I couldn’t wait to get something to eat. I had been too nervous to eat much of anything all day.

  Some of our guests were already at the house, and the musicians had already begun to play by the time we arrived. The atmosphere was festive. I hurried upstairs to change into my party dress and repair my hair. By the time I descended the stairs, the other guests had begun arriving, all bearing graduation gifts. A corner in one of the sitting rooms had been designated for the presents, and the twins eyed the pile, eager to satisfy their curiosity by tearing through the wrappings. Mommy warned them to stay away, and they shot off to play with their friends.

  An army of servants began to serve hot and cold hors d’oeuvres with glasses of champagne. Daddy’s business friends gathered in the ballroom, and Mommy greeted some of the important members of the art community, including other artists and gallery owners. The crowd was a Who’s Who of the society pages.

  My portrait remained covered on an easel, near the four-foot-high layer cake with “Good Luck, Pearl” written on it in red icing. Both the portrait and the cake were under a spotlight. Daddy wanted to make the unveiling a special moment after all of the guests had arrived.

  Claude came late with Lester Anderson and some of his other friends, and I knew immediately why
they were delayed. I saw from the way they swaggered and laughed that they had already had something alcoholic to drink, and when Claude came over to kiss me, I smelled the whiskey on his breath.

  “Is the punch spiked?” he asked me.

  “Of course not,” I said. He winked at Lester, a tall, lanky boy who always looked as if he had just done something mischievous. Lester idolized Claude and would do most anything he suggested.

  “Should I?” Lester asked me and revealed a pint of rum in the inside pocket of his jacket.

  “Lester Anderson, don’t you dare,” I warned. All the boys laughed. Claude put his arm around my waist and tried to kiss me on the neck.

  “Claude, stop. Some of my father’s friends are looking at us.”

  “Let’s step into the den for a few moments,” he whispered. “I haven’t congratulated you properly.”

  “No. Just be patient,” I said. He was disappointed, but he retreated and behaved.

  A short while later, Daddy asked the musicians to stop playing for a few moments, and he took center stage to announce the unveiling of my portrait.

  “We have a special present for Pearl tonight,” he began. “Actually, this is all my wife’s doing, but one of the reasons I married her was that I knew she was talented and would be able to do these sorts of things.”

  Everyone laughed. I gazed over at Aunt Jeanne, who appeared to be exchanging secret glances with Mommy. Daddy took hold of the cloth covering the painting, and I felt my heart pounding. It was almost as nerve-racking a moment as I’d had rising to make my graduation speech.

  “Pearl,” Daddy said. I stepped out and the guests applauded. Mommy stayed beside Daddy when he went over to the portrait and, with a little drum roll from the band, slowly pulled away the cloth to reveal a painting that took my breath away. Mommy hadn’t just painted a portrait of me in my graduation outfit. Behind me she had painted another portrait, this one with me dressed as a doctor, a stethoscope around my neck.

  There was a gasp of appreciation, and then everyone applauded, some rushing over to shake Mommy’s hand.

  “It looks like twins,” Pierre cried.

  “Just like us, there are two of you,” Jean squealed. Everyone laughed.

  “It’s beautiful, Mommy,” I said when we hugged. “I hope I live up to it.”

  “You will, honey.”

  “You better,” Daddy said and kissed me, too.

  After that, the party went into full swing. The musicians paraded around the house as if it really were a Mardi Gras celebration. The food was brought out and set on the tables. There were platters of turkey and roast beef, baked stuffed shrimp in oyster sauce, shrimp Mornay, and stuffed crabs as well as crawfish étouffée. Everyone was impressed with our elaborate spread, and when the desserts were wheeled out on serving wagons, the guests uttered exclamations of joy and hovered about the tarte aux pêches, banana nut bread, crêpes, pecan pie, orange crème brûllée and chocolate rum soufflé. My graduation cake was cut as well, and wedges of it were served.

  The grand menu added to the festive atmosphere. People were dancing everywhere, even in the hall-ways. I circulated as much as I could and spoke to many of Mommy’s and Daddy’s friends. Suddenly, when I paused in the ballroom to catch my breath, I felt someone come up behind me.

  “Good time to slip out of here,” Claude whispered, his hands on my hips.

  “I can’t yet, Claude.” I stepped away.

  “Why not? You were here for the big event: your unveiling. And we’ve all gorged enough on the food.” He paused, his blue eyes fixed on my face suspiciously. “Didn’t you tell your parents you were going to another party?” He waited a moment and then quickly added, “You didn’t, did you?”

  “I was going to tell them, but they were so excited about my party, I didn’t have the heart. Just give me a little while longer,” I pleaded.

  Claude scowled and reluctantly returned to his friends, who, as they had threatened, had spiked some of the punch for themselves. Now they were sharing it with Catherine, Marie Rose, and Diane Ratner. Diane had always been after Claude. I saw she was taking advantage of my having to visit with Daddy’s and Mommy’s friends. She had her arm through Claude’s and was whispering in his ear constantly. Whatever she said obviously pleased him, but he kept his gaze on me. I saw that he was growing more and more furious with every passing moment. It made his silver-blue eyes glitter like stones in a cold stream.

  I was going to speak to him again when Aunt Jeanne tapped me on the shoulder. “So what will you be doing this summer?” she asked me.

  “I’m going to work at the hospital as a nurse’s aide. Daddy thought it would be good experience for me.”

  “You’re really serious about becoming a doctor, then?” she said with a smile.

  “Yes, very serious.”

  She nodded. “Perhaps that’s meant to be,” she said, which made me think of my great-grandmother Catherine.

  “Did you know my great-grandmother Catherine, Aunt Jeanne?”

  “I knew about her. She was a very famous traiteur. I wish she were still around to help my mother. She’s been seeing a traiteur, but this woman apparently doesn’t have the healing powers your great-grandmother had. You don’t mind being around sick people, seeing illness and blood?”

  “No,” I said. “I feel good whenever I can help someone who is ill.”

  She smiled. “Then perhaps Catherine’s gift has been passed on to you.” She stared at me with wondrous eyes and nodded. “Good luck, sweetheart, and someday come to see us in the bayou.”

  “I will,” I said and swallowed. Mommy and Daddy had never forbidden me to go there, but their reluctance to return to the bayou made it seem like taboo.

  “We’ve got to be going soon, but I wanted you to have this first,” Aunt Jeanne said and handed me a small box. It wasn’t gift-wrapped.

  “Thank you,” I said, a little surprised. Why hadn’t she wrapped it and put it with the other gifts?

  “Go on, open it,” she added. I looked across the room and saw how Mommy was staring at us, her face full of fear. Her expression made my fingers tremble, but I finally opened the box to find a silver locket.

  “There’s a picture inside,” Aunt Jeanne explained.

  I pressed the release and opened the locket. There was a picture of Paul holding me as an infant in his arms, and he was wearing that palmetto hat. For a moment I couldn’t speak. It was exactly the way I always envisioned him carrying me at the start of my recurring nightmare.

  “I thought you would like to have that,” Aunt Jeanne said.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Do you remember him at all?” she asked.

  “Just a little,” I said.

  “He was very fond of you, and you were very fond of him,” she said wistfully. Then she took a deep breath and covered my hands with hers, shutting the locket at the same time. “But this isn’t the time for any sadness. Put it someplace safe and look at it from time to time,” she asked. I thanked her again, and she went to say good-bye to Daddy and Mommy.

  Mommy came over to me immediately afterward. “I saw her give you something,” she said.

  I showed her, and she gasped. “I just knew it had something to do with Paul.”

  “Do the rest of the Tates really hate us, Mommy?” I asked.

  “Let’s just say we’re not on their A-list,” Mommy replied. She gazed at the picture again. “He was a very handsome man, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  She gave the locket back to me.

  “It was nice of her to give you this, and it’s right of her to try to be sure Paul is not forgotten. Keep the locket with your most precious possessions.”

  “I will, Mommy.”

  She smiled softly and returned to her guests.

  A little while later, while I was talking with Dominique, a gallery owner who was trying to persuade Mommy to display my picture in his front window, Catherine approached.

  “Claude’s ge
tting very upset. We all want to leave, Pearl. Lester and the others have already gone to his house. Are you coming or not?”

  I bit down on my lower lip. A part of me did want to go, but another part argued against it. I looked across the room and saw Daddy laughing. The twins were gorging on strawberry shortcake with their friends. I could slip away without causing too much of a stir now, I thought.

  “Let me talk to my mother,” I said.

  “Good. I’ll tell Claude,” Catherine said.

  Mommy rarely missed anything happening around her. While she and her art world friends talked, she had her eyes on me. As I started toward her, she stepped away from the others.

  “What is it, darling?” she asked. “You want to go someplace with your friends?”

  “I guess,” I said.

  She looked at Claude, Catherine, and the others and then fastened her gaze on me. “Your heart’s not fully in this for some reason, Pearl,” she said with the assurance of a psychic. “What is it, honey? Is it going to be a wild party?”

  “Maybe,” I confessed.

  She nodded. “You know what growing up is,” she said, nodding like someone who had finally reached a conclusion. “It’s knowing when to say no. Nothing more than that, I think,” she added. “You decide. It’s all right for you to leave if you want to. It’s your night, Pearl. Daddy will understand.”

  We hugged, and I turned back to my friends. Claude raised his eyebrows and smiled. I started to nod and stopped. Once I left this house and went with Claude to Lester’s, saying no would be harder than graduating from medical school, I thought.

  “Coming now?” Claude asked anxiously.

  “Why don’t you and I stay here, Claude?” I suggested. “We can have plenty of privacy.”

  “Here? Are you serious? Everywhere you go, there are servants loitering—unless we slip up to your room,” he proposed, his eyes lustful.

  “Claude, I don’t like being rushed into anything,” I said.

  “Rushed? We’ve been going together for nearly a year. That’s like being married nowadays,” he protested.