He traced his left forefinger down the middle of my bosom and then under my breasts as though he wanted to memorize ever curve in my body.
"You're as beautiful as I thought," he said. "I was a little surprised, however, to discover you've not been with anyone else like this."
"Well, don't be," I snapped, and pushed his hand away from my breasts.
"Don't get upset. I'm not being critical."
"You sounded critical," I said. "You made it sound like I was emotionally retarded or something because I have never slept with a boy."
He shrugged.
"Hey, there has to be a first time for everyone, and I'm happy to be yours. They say every time you make love from now on, you'll always be comparing him to me."
I sat up and reached for my nightgown. Would I do that? He shouldn't be so confident, I thought. These circumstances made it most likely that it would be better the next time, either with him or someone else.
"I don't intend to be going to a sexual supermarket, Trevor," I said, bothered by his arrogance and that he was still under the influence of the alcohol he had drunk.
"A sexual supermarket? I like that," he said. "Hey, c'mon, don't be upset. I really do feel very strongly about you, Celeste."
He watched me put on my nightgown.
"That's a pretty sexy nightgown," he commented. "Looks like one of those Fredericks of Hollywood things." He started to reach for me again, and I pulled away.
"Trevor, you really have to get dressed and get out of here," I insisted, practically pleading.
"Okay, okay," he said, and sat up. He scrubbed his face with his palms and looked around a moment before reaching for his own things. He went into the bathroom. I heard the toilet flush, and then he came out, still not fully dressed.
"Trevor."
"I'm going. I'm going," he said, and continued putting on his clothing. He moved very slowly. His drinking and everything he had done was finally registering in his drooping eyelids.
I thought I heard someone on the stairs, heard voices.
"Hurry, Trevor," I cried.
"I am. I am," he said, putting on his shoes. "You know, we might have hit upon something here. If your cousin continues to keep you locked up like this, I'll just come by nights. We'll make up a signal or some-thing. You know, like a candle in the window. Instead of crying, 'The British are coming. The British are coming,' you'll cry, 'Trevor is coming. Trevor is coming.'"
Despite my nervousness, I had to smile.
"You really are incorrigible," I said.
"Wow. Incorrigible. I haven't been called that since kindergarten."
He stood up.
"Okay," he said. "It's good night, good night, parting is such sweet sorrow. . ."
"Just go, Trevor," I said, pushing him toward the window.
"One more kiss," he insisted, turning on me. "I need to seal it with a kiss and take it home to my dream factory."
"Kiss me and go," I said.
He smiled and ever so slowly brought his lips to mine. As he did so, he slid his hands up the sides of my body and across and over my breasts. I stepped back.
"You're making it impossible," I told him.
"It will be better the second time," he said. "I promise."
"If you don't get out of here, there'll never be a second time," I warned.
"Never say never," he joked, touched the tip of my nose, and started to climb out the window.
He had just put his right foot on the narrow roof above the bay windows when my bedroom door was thrust open. I turned to see Ami standing there with Mrs. Cukor at her side. Ami's shrill scream spun Trevor around awkwardly, and his left foot caught on the sill. He fell forward, trying to break the fall with his hands out, but he missed the edge of the roof and went tumbling over.
I screamed after him.
"Trevor!"
"Go get Wade and tell him to go out there," Ami told Mrs. Cukor, who glared at me and then hurried away.
Ami came rushing in to look out the window. She pulled me away and stuck her head out. I leaned to look over her shoulder. I couldn't see Trevor. I had hoped to see him running off, but he was nowhere in sight.
"He fell off!" I moaned.
"What have you done?" Ami asked, her eyes wide. "How long was he here?"
I bit down on my lower lip, not knowing what to say. She looked about the room frantically and settled her eyes on my bed. Then she walked to it slowly and pulled the blanket back. There on the sheet was a sizable blood stain.
"Oh, my God," she said, turning to me slowly. "You've been raped!"
"What?" I looked up, shaking my head. "No."
"It's nothing more than that. Be entered this house without permission. He climbed into your room like a burglar, only what he burgled was your innocence, your virginity. He's nothing more than a common thief."
We heard a commotion below, and both looked out the window. I saw Wade, Mrs. Cukor, and Mrs. McAlister now, but I still didn't see any sign of Trevor.
"What is it?" Ami called down to them.
Wade stepped out so he could look up.
"He broke something. Maybe his shoulder," he said. "We'll have to call an ambulance. I don't know how to move someone who's broken a bone. I don't want to make it worse."
"You should call the police," Ami told him. "Not an ambulance."
"No!" I screamed.
"I'm calling an ambulance, Ami. Calm things down up there," Wade ordered.
"Calm things down," she muttered, and turned to me. "How could you let this happen, Celeste, and so soon after I caught him up here with you? I did all that I could to prevent it. I trusted you."
"I'm sorry," I said. She thought a moment.
"Do you know if he used any protection? Well," she screamed when I didn't respond immediately. "Do you?"
"Yes," I said, "I believe he did."
"You believe?"
"I'm sure he did, I mean. I'm just so confused. Please."
"Oh, God. And I was just going to see my doctor on Monday and get the pills for you. We'll have to have you examined."
"I'm all right, Ami. I'm worried about Trevor more than I am about myself at the moment."
"You shouldn't worry about him. He should be worrying about himself. When did you have your last period?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.
"It ended just about a month ago. I'm due any day."
"Good. I want you to tell me the moment it starts again. Do you understand, Celeste? The moment it starts," she said, staring out of my bedroom.
"But I told you he was wearing protection," I said.
"That doesn't always matter. There's always that small percentage, and you don't want to be one of them."
She turned at the door. "Take that sheet off the bed. I'll send Mrs. Cukor up with a clean one. Go take a hot bath," she ordered. "Thank goodness Mrs. Cukor came to me to tell me what was going on. Otherwise this might have continued. I know what men do when they gnaw a path to your heart. They travel it until they wear it out. Clean yourself up," she concluded, and left.
Mrs. Cukor? I thought. If she had seen Trevor climbing the roof and entering my room, why had she waited so long to tell Arai? Why wasn't Ami here sooner? It was almost as if Mrs. Cukor wanted terrible things to happen first, and what was more frightening, almost as if she knew they would.
I looked out the window again. I should go down to him, I thought, but then I thought it might just make things harder for him. Who knew what he might say and what he might reveal had occurred between us? Feeling dazed myself, I began to strip the bed.
A little more than twenty or so minutes later, I heard the ambulance approach the driveway gate, and I rushed back to the window to watch it come up the drive and park. The paramedics hopped out and unloaded a stretcher. Wade heard them too and rushed to them. They quickly approached the bay windows. I was still unable to see Trevor. Finally, they lifted him onto the stretcher and began to carry him away. I saw how he held his right arm, but it was too dark below now t
o see much else. I watched him being loaded into the ambulance. Wade and Mrs. McAlister stood by. The paramedics spoke quickly with him, and then they got in and drove off.
I collapsed onto my desk chair and stared at the floor.
Ami came charging back into my room.
"Why aren't you in the tub already? You haven't even run the water!" she cried, looking into the bathroom. She went in and started the bath.
Mrs. Cukor was right on her heels with a clean new sheet for my bed. She began to put it on, avoiding looking at me while she worked.
"Get in here," Ami commanded, "and get into the tub. You're a mess."
I felt so helpless and distraught, I did what she asked. I complained about the water and then added some cold while she stood by in the doorway watching me and watching Mrs. Cukor. Finally, Mrs. Cukor left, and Ami entered.
"How could you let him sneak into your room like that?" she asked, her voice sounding more curious than angry now. "Didn't you think something like this might happen? Are you really that naive, even after all I told you? I thought you were smart, a good student. How could you do this with the first boy you met?"
I didn't respond. I sat there staring at my legs. It still all felt like I was outside my body, like this was happening to someone else. When would I wake from this dream?
"I don't know if we can keep this quiet," she said, pacing and thinking. "He's been taken to the hospital. There'll be questions and questions. Some nasty gossip mongers, jealous bitches, will probably say I was a bad influence on you or something stupid like that. They just love making trouble for people who outshine them. You know what I'm talking about. I'm sure it's happened to you repeatedly at the orphanage. . . jealous girls making up stories about you. It's dreadful. What to do, what to do," she muttered, still pacing.
Suddenly she stopped and looked at me, her eyes filling with an idea that excited her.
"What?" I asked.
"No one has to know he actually got into your room. He could have fallen off trying. That's it. That's the story I'll give out and the story you'll support when the other students at the school ask you about it, which they're bound to do. I'll even tell that to Wade. He doesn't know the full story yet. Trevor was just moaning and groaning."
She pointed her right forefinger at me.
"And you had better not say anything
different," she warned. "If you do, your only defense will be to accuse him of rape, just like I said."
"I wouldn't do that."
"I have no idea what Wade would do if he knew the whole truth," she added, not really listening to me. "He'd probably want me to send you right back to the orphanage, even if we did accuse Trevor of breaking in and raping you. Wade is not capable of handling domestic problems, only business
problems," she said.
I looked at her with skepticism. My impression of Wade was that he could deal with family issues far better than she could, and he should know the truth.
"He puts on a good act," she said, seeing my doubts. "You have to remember what his youth was like, how Basil treated him and still treats him. In many ways Wade is immature. That's right, immature. He's socially immature. Just take my word for it. He might not show it to you, but if he learned all of this, he would be in a panic, worrying it would somehow impact on his precious plumbing business, and I'd hear about it behind closed doors. Can you listen to me and do what I ask finally?" she nearly screamed.
I nodded and looked away.
"Good. Now as soon as you're finished in here, go to sleep and leave the rest to me," she said. "We'll have a quiet sisterly talk about all this tomorrow."
She approached the bathtub and put her hand on my head, caressing me softly. Surprised, I looked up at her and saw her smile.
"I'm not blaming you as much as you think, Celeste. I know how conniving and clever men are. I knew from the very beginning that you would be a target. You're so beautiful. I probably should have put bars on your windows," she said. "I'm sorry we don't utilize chastity belts anymore. Some social progress for women has only made them more vulnerable and left them with more disadvantage."
When I looked up at her, I saw she was dead serious.
"Just try to get some rest," she added, and leaned down to kiss the top of my head before leaving. "In the morning after breakfast, you and I will have a real sisterly heart-to-heart talk."
Try to get some rest? What an impossible request that was, I thought, rose from my bath, dried myself, put on a different nightgown, and crawled back into the bed. The new sheets smelled starchy, but I also detected the faint aroma of something else. I sniffed and recoiled.
Garlic again! What had she done, filled the sheet with it before bringing it up here? How could I sleep with that in my nostrils? And yet how could I complain?
I heard a knock at my door. Ami wasn't going to knock first anymore, I thought. I was sure it was Wade, or perhaps Mrs. McAlister, sent up with a cup of some herbal tea.
"Come in," I called, and Wade opened the door. "How are you doing?"
"I'm okay," I said. How could I mention the sheet without revealing what really happened in here? I thought.
"Teenagers. It's a form of insanity," he said, shaking his head. "I had to call Chris Foley and tell him what happened to his son. The irony is, he'll probably sue me. Did you see Trevor fall?"
"Yes," I admitted. Was he going to ask me more and force me to tell him the whole story?
"He's lucky he didn't get even more damaged. I found this on him," he said, holding up the silver whiskey flask. "I thought it would be better if I was the one to find it. I'll have to tell his father, though," he added. "Maybe that will keep him from starting any sort of stupid legal action."
"I'm sorry about it all. I didn't tell him to come here," I said, which was true.
"Hey, young love. We'll get over it. Ami will calm down. I'll handle the Foleys. Don't worry. One of these days, we'll all actually laugh about it," he said.
Just as I had thought, he was taking it all far better than Anti.
"I'm sorry," I said again.
"Try to get some sleep. You'll need your strength for what's to come. I'm sure you'll be the center of attention tomorrow, and especially the next day, when you return to school. News travels fast around here, especially news like this."
I nodded. He hesitated, looking awkward, as if he wanted to say something more.
"Well . . . good night," was all he added, and then he turned and left, closing the door softly behind him. I lowered my head to the pillow. A few moments later, I could hear Ami and Wade mumbling in the hallway. She was whining and sobbing, and he was comforting her. Then I heard their door close, and all become quiet again.
I felt so terrible having brought all this trouble to their home, and so soon after I had arrived. I thought I would start crying again, but that quickly made me feel melancholy and alone. Memories stirred as if they were nudged out of hibernation.
A long time ago, Noble and I sat by the front window in the living room and looked out at a moonlit night not much different from this one. He had just finished reading me a beautiful story about a caterpillar who fell in love with a butterfly, and promised her that as soon as he turned into a butterfly, they would fly off together. The butterfly stayed beside him and waited and waited. The strength of his love for her finally sped up his metamorphosis, and at the end of the story, he had beautiful new wings and they flew away together, carried along by a warm breeze.
"Where did they go?" I wanted to know.
"To a place where they would always be together and always beautiful," he said.
Where was this place? I wondered.
Was he looking for it now when he gazed so hard out of our window at the dark forest across the way? Was there a beautiful butterfly waiting for him, and did that mean he would leave me forever and ever?
He saw the worry in my face and smiled.
"What?" he asked me.
"You're going to go away, too," I told him.
It was just before if all happened, and he did go away.
"No, I won't."
"Yes," I insisted. "You will."
He stopped smiling. He always paid attention to the things I said. I remember that. He made me feel important. Mother would, too. Now, when I thought about it, I realized I didn't really know why I said some of the things I said. They seemed to know more about that than I did. How strange!
The day he left, I thought about the butterfly story. He'd always known in his heart he would go, I thought. He'd lied to me.
Maybe that was why I was so angry then.
It was another betrayal in the long line of many to trail behind me for the rest of my life.
All I wanted to do in the days that followed was turn into a butterfly, wave my wings, and fly away to wherever Noble had gone, to that magical place.
I'll spend my whole life looking for it, I thought as I closed my eyes.
In minutes, I was asleep, dreaming of apple blossoms rising slowly to return to their branches, until I realized that they were all white and red butterflies, stirred by something.
What was it? What stirred them up?
Somewhere just outside the door, the answer hovered, just as Mrs. Cukor hovered in the shadows of this strangely beautiful house with walls woven in mysteries better left untouched--but mysteries that would touch me.
I knew that as well as I knew my own name.
I could almost feel them swirling about my bed, drawing closer and closer until. . .
I woke with a scream, a desperate cry for Noble. Always, for Noble.
13 A Sense of Danger
. True to her promise, the next day after breakfast, Ami asked me to go out with her and sit in the gazebo near the pool for her so-called sisterly heart-to-heart, which I thought would simply be one of her long lectures about the evils of men, especially after last night. She surprised me, however, with her decision instead to reveal the second biggest secret of her life. She had already revealed the first by telling me she was currently in therapy.
She actually didn't come down to breakfast, but had Mrs. McAlister bring something up to her instead. Wade, reading in my face that I thought she was sick over what had happened the night before, urged me not to be upset.
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