The End of the Rainbow

by V. C. Andrews

  "So where are you from?" he asked, packing his pipe with tobacco.

  "Harley and I live on the same estate." I said.

  "Estate?" He scrunched his mouth and nodded.

  "Back in Virginia?"

  "Yes sir."

  Harley came rushing back into the house.

  "C'mon in, c'mon in. Give Suze a chance. Shell want those rooms looking as clean as a hospital room. The house may not look it because of the mess I make, but she's a stickler when it comes to

  cleanliness. Sit down," he instructed Harley and nodded at the sofa. too.

  Harley dropped our bags and sat next to me.

  "So you two live on an estate." he said. Harley looked at me.

  "He asked where I lived."

  "Oh. Yes. it's Summer's family's property. When my mother married Roy, they built a house there."

  "Your mother was quite a good-looking woman. I bet she was pretty right to the end. huh?"

  Harley swallowed hard. "Yes," he said.

  "We got a lot to catch up on." his father said, bringing a match to his pipe bowl. He puffed hard, his neck moving in and out, reminding me of a thick snake. Then he sat back and just looked at the two of us for a long moment as he smoked.

  "I'm real glad you called. Harley, real glad. I often wondered what Glenda had done. Glad she told you about me," he said. "I was surprised to hear she kept track of my comings and goings and knew where I was,"

  "She didn't," Harley replied. "When I discovered your name and stuff. I found out about you another way."

  "Oh? How's that?" he asked, freezing.

  "On the Internet. Computers," Harley added.

  "Oh, yeah. yeah. I gotta confess I don't know diddly when it comes to that. Just an old-fashioned guy is all I am. So, you're what. seventeen?"

  "Yes," Harley said. I could hear the

  disappointment in his voice. A father should at least know how old his son is.

  "Right, right. Seems like yesterday." his father continued, blowing smoke off to his right. He paused as though he just realized something. "You had no pictures of me then, nothing like that?"

  "No, sir. My mother didn't like talking about you much. I always asked," he added to show how interested he had been.

  "Yeah, yeah. I'm sure," his father said and looked very thoughtful. "Real sorry about Glenda. The world is a bowl of troubles, not cherries. For most of us, that is,'" he added, glancing at me.

  Harley nodded and looked down for a moment.

  "This is an interesting house," he said. "How did you come to own it?"

  "Oh, it's been in my family for a long time. About ten years ago, the county historian got it put on some special list and as a result. I don't pay real estate taxes. Big savings as long as I don't change it. Actually, now it's illegal to change it."

  "Can't you even paint it?'" I blurted. Harley's father laughed.

  "Yeah. I can restore it to its original colors and such. but I've just been lazy about it. You know how it is. You get work and you concentrate on that because someone's paying you and you forget your own place. One of these days, I'll get around to it. It's a nice size property, too."

  "There aren't too many octagons, original ones like this," Harley continued.

  "Right. You know about that stuff?" his father asked. surprised.

  "Harley knows a lot about architecture," I bragged for him. "He's going to become an architect himself someday."

  "That so?"

  "I guess so," Harley said smiling at me. "Or elseIll be in big trouble."

  "Right, right, know what you mean. It's in the Victor blood to have to have someone pushing you all the time. We don't have what some people refer to as much ambition on our own. Trouble with us is we're too easily contented. But we live long lives because of that," he declared.

  "When the doctor asked us where we were going, we told him your name, but he said he knew you only as Buzz."

  "Oh, he did. huh? Yeah, that's right. I've been going by that nickname since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. One of the first things I saw was a bee. I guess. At least, that's what they told me. because I used to go around making a buzzing sound. So... there's why I got the nickname. Of course, I never told your mother." he added quickly.

  We were quiet for a moment. I nearly jumped when Suze appeared. She appeared suddenly in the doorway as if she had simply materialized out of thin air. She must walk on air. I thought. I never heard her coming down the stairs or walking in the hallway.

  "Everything set already. Suze?" Harley's father asked. "she said. "I show you," she told us. "Come."

  "Get settled in. We'll have some dinner and talk until we all pass out,," Harley's father said. He looked at me. "How else do you catch up on seventeen years. huh?"

  I smiled.

  How else? I thought. You don't run off and lose complete contact with your own child. That's how else. Of course. I didn't say a syllable of that. I simply nodded and rose with Harley to follow Suze up the stairs.

  The rooms were small, but they did look tidy, each with a simple double bed, no headboard or footboard. Each room had a dresser and a pair of nightstands. The overhead fixtures in both rooms did not work, but there were standing pole lamps that did.

  I saw a pink cloth with a string tied around it forming a ball set on my pillow.

  "What's this?" I asked.

  "That be good gris-gris, magic bag give you sweet dreams." she explained.

  "What's in it?"

  "Charms, herbs, some nail clippings."

  "Nail clippings?" I looked at Harley and he raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

  "You see, it will work," Suze insisted. "We gotcha a bathroom right across the hall," she continued. It sounded like they had just made it. "You share, all right?"

  "Oh yes." I said. Harley put my suitcase down beside the bed and then took his to the room next door.

  "Towels and such are in the hallway closet," Suze continued, standing in the doorway and nodding at a door in the hallway. 'La" she said. "There. You got soap and shampoo in the bathroom."

  "Thank you," I said.

  "Merite," she replied and nearly smiled. "That means you're welcome."

  " Merite,"1 repeated. That brought a smile to her face. "How do you say thank you then?"

  "I say merci.

  "Merci."

  "What's all that?" Harley asked. returning. "Haitian talk," I said. The constant pain in my ankle made me grimace.

  "Your foot, it hurts a lot?" Suze asked.

  "I fix something for you," she said.

  "Oh. I've got medicine the doctor gave me." She smiled with confidence.

  "I give you medicine that works faster," she insisted.

  Harley raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes as he shrugged.

  "I must look after supper now," Suze said. 'Be ready in ten more minutes."

  She turned and went down the stairs. Harley and I watched her and then looked at each other and smiled.

  "She put one of those magic bags on my pillow, too.*

  "I hope they work," I said.

  "What do you think of my father?" he asked. "He looks older than I expected."

  "Me too."

  "He seems nice though."

  "We'll see." Harley said cautiously. "Something does smell good, doesn't it?" he remarked, picking up the aromas coming from the kitchen.

  "Ill freshen up and change into the best thing I brought," I said. "I'm okay.Ill just go back

  downstairs and talk to him."

  "Okay. Tell them I have to call home, too."

  "Right," he said. "Your ankle does hurt a lot. I can see it in your face," he said.

  "It hurts. but I'd rather hold off on taking the pain pills until I go to sleep."

  He grimaced. I knew he was still feeling guilty.

  "It wasn't your fault. Harley. You did the best you could. And you might have just saved our lives."

  He nodded and then smiled.

  "Maybe Suze does have a magic medicine.
"

  "Oh. I wouldn't take anything from her. Harley."

  "I know. See you downstairs," he said.

  Now that we had stopped moving and my attention went fully to myself, the pain in my ankle began to sing its song louder and louder. I hopped about, pulled out my dress and took my makeup kit into the bathroom. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I realized how the ride and our ordeal with the men in the pickup truck had taken its toll. My hair looked like it had been through a shredder. I should have put on some sunscreen before we started on this trip, too. My cheeks were red. Even my chin was scarlet. Was it from the sun or the wind? I set to work, rubbing in my creams and fixing my hair as best I could without washing it.

  Harley had to come back up to call me to dinner. "It's ready," he said. "They're waiting for you."

  "Okay. okay," I cried and hurried as fast as I could. The pain was thumping in my leg. and I wondered if I should at least take one of my pills now. I didn't want to bring any unhappiness to the table, not for this first and important dinner with Harley's father.

  "I guess I'll just take one of the pills." I reluctantly decided.

  I did so and then Harley helped me go down the stairs to the dining room. He looked a lot happier.

  "Guess what he wants me to do tomorrow," he whispered as we went along.

  "What?"

  "He wants me to go on a job with him. He says I could be a great help since he lost his assistant this week."

  "How?"

  "He said he was a big drinker and got arrested for his fourth or fifth DWI. He's in jail."

  "Oh."

  "Best way to get to know someone is to work with him," Harley said. "especially if he's the father you've never known,"

  .

  The dining room table was a hard cherry wood that once must have been a beautiful piece of furniture. I thought. Now it was stained and badly scratched. The chair legs were so loose, I was afraid that mine might just fall apart. I never sat so still. Suze hadn't put a tablecloth on the table, but she had a thick candle burning at the center.

  Whether we liked it or not, we were in for a Haitian dinner, Harley's father explained each dish Suze brought out from the kitchen. We began with a pumpkin soup. I thought it was quite spicy, and so did Harley from the look on his face. Our main dish was something called gliots, which I gathered from Suze's broken English explanation was pork first boiled and then fried. She served it with what she referred to as riz pois cones, which looked to be nothing more than rice cooked in with red kidney beans.

  For dessert, we had pain potate, which was a cake she had made with sweet potatoes, coconut and raisins. It was delicious. Most of the flavors were true discoveries for both of us. Harley scraped his plate clean.

  "I guess I was really hungry and this was all so good," he explained.

  Throughout the dinner. I noticed how intently Harley's father stared at him. It's only natural. I thought. He was looking for resemblances, recalling memories of Aunt Glenda, perhaps feeling proud of the good-looking young man who now sat at his table.

  Harley did a great deal of the talking, more than I had ever heard from him. He talked about our property, the lake, working with Roy, his interest in architecture. It was as if he were trying to get seventeen years of life summarized quickly so that he and his father could have a fresh beginning, move on from this moment as if they had never been apart. It was a hope I could see in his eyes as he spoke.

  For his part his father listened asked an occasional question, glanced at Suze and smiled, and ate. He told surprisingly little more about himself. I tried to get more out of him for Harley's sake.

  "How long have you been living here?" I asked.

  "Oh, a while," he said.

  When Suze went back into the kitchen. I remarked at how unusual it must be for someone from Haiti to be living here. I was hoping he would explain how they had met, but all he did was agree.

  Suze gave us a juice drink with our meal. It was a little too sweet, but when Harley's father bragged about how hard she worked to make it. I thought I had better drink it all. Just before we finished our dessert, she looked at me and nodded.

  "That be helping you now," she said.

  "Pardon?"

  "Suze means she gave you something for your pain."

  "Gave me something? When?" I asked nervously.

  "In your drink," Harley's father said laughing. "Don't worry about it. She's kept me alive for years, and the way I neglect myself and abuse myself, it's truly a miracle. Her mother was the equivalent of what we might call a witch doctor or something, Hell. I ain't been to a regular doctor for nearly ten years now. I haven't even been to a dentist!" he bragged.

  "Maybe she shouldn't have done that." Harley said cautiously. "Summer already took one of her pills before we began to eat."

  "Naw, nothing to worry about. Everything she uses comes from nature," his father assured us.

  Maybe it was the power of suggestion, but my stomach suddenly took a spin and then rumbled. I felt myself go a little white in the face.

  "You all right?" Harley asked. I shook my head.

  "I think I have to go to the bathroom," I said. I rose and reached for my crutch.

  "There's one off the kitchen." Harley's father said. I looked at Harley.

  "Maybe I better use the one upstairs."

  "Suit yourself," his father said and sat back to light his pipe while Suze began to clear the table.

  "I'm sorry I can't help with the dinner dishes. but..."

  "That's okay. I'll help her." Harley told me.

  I moved quicky up the stairs, found the bathroom and went in almost too late. Everything I had just eaten seemed to run right through me. Taking the pill before such a spicy dinner was probably a bad idea. I thought-- or else what she had given me in that drink had brought this about, too.

  I was in the bathroom so long, Harley came by to see if I was all right.

  "Summer?"

  "I'm sorry, Harley. I got sick so fast!"

  "Its okay. Let me 'mow if you need anything.'"

  "I'll be out soon," I promised. When I did finally step out of the bathroom. I felt myself spin so badly, I nearly toppled. I guess I hit the wall hard enough for Harley to hear and come running, his father beside him.

  "I feel a little weak," I said.

  Harley rushed to my side and put his arm around my waist,

  "Just let her lay down for a while," his father suggested. "She'll be fine in an hour or so, for sure."

  "Yes, I'll be fine," I said. My eyes felt so heavy, I thought they might roll out of my head.

  Harley practically carried me to the room. He guided me to the bed and I lay back. He took off my shoes and pulled the blanket up to my neck.

  "How you doing. Summer?" "Tired," I said.

  "Just rest a while. I'll check on you in a few minutes or so." he promised.

  I nodded. but I didn't speak or open my eyes.

  The next time I did open them, I was greeted by the light of morning. For a few moments, my mind was so clouded with confusion I didn't move. It was as if my most recent memories had been washed away. Where was I? How did I get here? Why was my ankle bandaged? The struggle for these answers put me into a terrible panic. I started to cry. Finally. I sat up and concentrated until it all began to flood back in and over me.

  "Harley!" I cried.

  I listened. All I heard was the sound of water running through a pipe somewhere in the house.

  "Harley!"

  The water stopped running and I called again, louder. Then. I heard footsteps coming up the stairway. I looked to the door of my room. It opened and Suze came walking in. She had another juice drink and what looked like a slice of some kind of fruit and nut bread.

  "Bon Jour! I bring you something for matin . . . breakfast. Comment ca va?"

  "What?"

  "How are you?"

  "I feel terrible," I said. She nodded.

  You drink and eat this. It is good for your stomach," she decl
ared. She handed me the glass.

  I shook my head.

  "Where's Harley?"

  "He be gone to work."

  "Gone to work? What time is it?"

  "Ten-thirty," she replied.

  "Ten-thirty! I slept until ten-thirty!"

  I tried to stand up, but the room spun. I sat back quickly, gasping for air.

  "Drink," she said, pumping the glass at me. "It give you strength."

  "What is it?"

  "Just combination of herbs and juices," she said. "Take," she said with more insistence.

  Reluctantly. I took the glass and brought it to my lips. It didn't have much of an aroma, but when I tasted it. I thought there was a lot of banana and coconut in it.

  "Drink" she urged. "You feel better. You see."

  I drank some more and then she handed me the plate with the slice of bread.

  "Something solid now. Go."

  I nibbled on the slice. It didn't taste bad and maybe she was right. Maybe I did need something in my stomach. I ate as much as I could, She stood there watching me as if she was afraid I might throw it away and pretend I had eaten it. Her hair was exactly how it had been yesterday, but today she wore a light brown dress and sandals. I noticed she had a chain around her neck that looked like it was made of bone with some crystals at the center.

  Suddenly. I realized I had fallen asleep before I had called Mommy and Daddy to let them know I was all right. It put such a panic in me, my face got hot with fear. Suze's eyes widened. I imagined she thought I was having another reaction to the food and medicines.

  "I forgot to call my parents!" I cried. "I've got to call them right away. Is there a phone upstairs?"

  She shook her head and picked up my tray. "Well, where is the phone?"

  "Kitchen," she said and started away. "Oh," she said. stopping. She reached into a pocket of her dress and pulled out a slip of paper. "He give me this for you when you wake up." She stepped back to hand it to me.