Black Cat

by V. C. Andrews

  "Why don't you help Noble," Mama suggested. I looked up at her quickly. Why was she putting Betsy on me?

  "Doing what?"

  "Noble, what are you up to today?"

  "I wanted to start on gathering firewood, Mama."

  "Firewood? It's still summer!" Betsy cried at me.

  "The wood has to season and it needs to be split," I told her. I had deliberately chose work that she wouldn't be able to do.

  "I'm not going to chop wood. You want me to have hands like yours, break my nails?"

  I looked away. No. I don't want you to have hands like mine. I don't want to have hands like mine. I thought.

  "You can watch. Maybe. you can read. I'll give you a book to read to Baby Celeste, if you like. You should act her to know you better," Mama said.

  Betsy stared at Mama, then glanced at Baby Celeste, who had just finished her lunch. "I still don't understand why you call her Baby Celeste and not just Celeste."

  Mama had a way about her when someone other than me made her angry. She didn't like to show her rage, but because I knew her so well, knew every strand of her hair, every line in her face. I could see the subtle changes. Her mouth tightened slightly in the corners, her eyes narrowed just a bit and darkened, and the muscles in her neck stiffened before she formed a cold smile.

  "If you must understand, explain it. I once had a child named Celeste,"

  "I know all about her. My father talked about it enough."

  "And so you know how I toxically lost her. My cousin graciously named her new baby after my lost daughter. Celeste, but we like to make a distinction for now. It's less painful. Memories can be like thorns in your heart," Mama said, moving closer to Betsy. "I'm sure you have painful memories of your brother, after the tragic loss you and your father suffered. It's not something to be ashamed of, but it's something you don't want to experience constantly, now do you?" Mama was inches away from Betsy now, hovering as if she could make that happen. make Betsy suffer constantly.

  Betsy's anger and hardness softened under Mama's gaze. For the first time, I saw a glint of fear in her. She retreated a step.

  "I'm not that hungry," she declared, seized a piece of bread, and charged out of the room. We heard her go outside soon afterward.

  "Old habits die hard," Mama told me, looking in her direction. "She'll come around or be in even more pain than she is now."

  I said nothing, afraid that whatever I said. Mama would take it wrong. Instead. I did what I had proposed I would. I went into the woods and began to cut firewood. Betsy watched me from the porch and then went into the house. Soon after she managed to get her new boyfriend to come out and pick her up. She didn't tell Mama he was coming or that she was leaving either. Later, she returned with her father, went directly to her room, and then emerged to go out on another date with her boyfriend. She came home earlier, but made just as much noise. This time, her father ignored it. I imagined Mama told him to do

  The following day, because he was not working, Mr. Fletcher took Betsy shopping. He asked me if I wanted to go along. For a moment I was tempted to do so, but I glanced at Mama and then quickly shook my head and thanked him.

  "What. Noble leave his precious plants and farm chores?" Betsy taunted. "He wouldn't know what to say to people unless they had leaves for ears and roots for leas."

  I didn't defend myself. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction. She smirked and said she wasn't that keen about going shopping either. She didn't really want to buy anything nice to wear to the wedding ceremony and dinner, but Mr. Fletcher bribed her, promising her the use of his car the day after the wedding. Once we had all seen what she bought to wear, we realized he would have been better off if he hadn't.

  "Make an effort. Betsy, please, for all our sakes," he cajoled.

  I hated to hear a grown man beg his own daughter like that. Maybe if he had been firmer with her, things would have turned out better. Among the antiques in the turret room was a wooden plaque. Mama told me her great-grandfather once had it hanging on the wall in the hallway. It read. Spare the rod and spoil the child. She said her grandfather had bad memories of his father's harsh punishments, and once his father had died, he took the plaque off the wall and dumped it in the turret room. Mama wondered now if she shouldn't have nailed it to one of the walls in Betsy's room.

  We didn't find out until the day of the wedding what Betsy had bought to wear. She wouldn't let her father see it either. He just gave her his credit card to use and she had it all in a box when she met him in the mall parking lot. The moment I set eyes on her. I knew she had chosen it for its shock value.

  Twenty minutes before the wedding ceremony was to begin, she came downstairs wearing a navelbaring, stretch-jersey black dress with a skirt that was a good two inches above her knees. The material was so tight to her bosom that little was left to the imagination. She might as well have come out barebreasted.

  She had her hair pinned up and had enough makeup on her face to supply the entire cast of a Broadway musical, At least, that was what Mr. Fletcher told her. Her eyeliner was too thick, for sure. and with the heavy layers of bright red lipstick on her lips, she looked like a vampire who had just had a feeding.

  Mama would not let her get the satisfaction of seeing her outrage. She flashed her a smile, then gave all her attention to our wedding guests, the most important ones for Mama being Mr. Bogart and his wife, as well as our attorney, Mr. Derward Lee Nokleby-Cook, and his wife, who was looking everywhere and at everything with a devouring hunger and interest. She had surely given herself the assignment of bringing back as much detail as possible to her friends about this wedding. Everyone was full of curiosity.

  We knew that because Mr. Fletcher had come home with stories he was told in the drugstore. "They think were getting married in some sort of weird ritual. Some people have pretty wild imaginations."

  "What sort of things are they saying?" Mama asked.

  "Oh, just ignorant, stupid things," he replied, obviously not wanting to describe them.

  "Some of the people I met think you're going to sacrifice a goat first and then smear the blood on your facts," Betsy eagerly told Mama.

  Her father gave her a chastising look, but Betsy shrugged. "I can't help it if that's what they think," she whined. "Don't blame me."

  "I'm amazed they found out," Mama said with a straight face.

  "Excuse me?"

  "The goat is being delivered in the morning." Then Mama looked at Mr. Fletcher and they both laughed.

  "Go on, make fun, if you like," Betsy said angrily. "but that's the sort of thing people out there believe about you. And now they'll believe it about you, too," she told her father before storming out.

  "Won't they all be disappointed?" Mama said, shaking her head.

  They would have been. Nothing about the marriage ceremony was radical or unusual. No one wore a bizarre costume. The Reverend Mr. Austin came dressed in a dark blue suit, and his wife. Tani, wore a pretty, red, sleeveless dress. Joining them was the accordion player. Bob Longo, a stout, dark-haired man who looked as if had borrowed his sports jacket from someone a good two sizes bigger and had black hair growing wildly down the back of his neck and curling at the ends.

  The rest of the wedding party included the two managers from Mr Fletcher's drugstore and their wives: another pharmacist. Larry Schwartz, and his wife. Joan: and the real estate agent who had sold the Fletchers' house. Judith Lilleton, and her husband.

  A minute or so before the ceremony was to begin. Betsy's new boyfriend. Dirk Snyder, whipped his car into our driveway, throwing up a cloud of dust. He came barreling to a stop and leaped out as if he thought the car might explode under him. He was dark-haired, slim, with a pair of close-together brown eyes and a thin, crooked mouth that looked sliced across his face with a bent hacksaw. An unlit cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth, and his sports jacket was tossed over his shoulder. He hurriedly put it on as he walked toward us. Betsy went out to greet him and whispered something i
n his ear that made them both roar with laughter. I thought I saw him slip her a pill.

  I gazed at Mr. Fletcher. He had his head down, standing by the minister, waiting for Mama to come out of the house. All eyes were on Betsy and her boyfriend as they took their places. Mr. Longo began to play "Here Comes the Bride" and everyone turned to look at the front door of the house. ~where Mama emerged, holding Baby Celeste's hand. I could hear people gasp with delight and amazement.

  Mama had made Baby Celeste's dress out of the same material used in her own and styled her hair similarly as well. No one looking at them could think the child was anyone else's, and since she had inherited some of Mr. Fletcher's facial features, the foregone conclusion rested comfortably in the faces of our guests.

  Mama and Baby Celeste came down the stairs and walked toward the arch where the Reverend Mr. Austin, Mi. Fletcher, and I waited, At the beginning of the short aisle we had created with chairs for our wedding guests. Mama released Baby Celeste's hand and knelt down to whisper something to her. She nodded and looked toward the rest of us with such a mature expression, everyone smiled. Mama continued down the aisle and took her place.

  The ceremony began, and at the proper moment Baby Celeste walked down the aisle as she had rehearsed and gave Mama the wedding ring. Then she stepped back and took my hand. I exchanged a glance with Mr. Bogart. Something in his face told me he knew more than anyone else about us. His face was fall of kindness. though. I felt no threat, no reprimand or accusation.

  I heard Betsy's smothered laughter and glanced back to see her and her boyfriend giggling together. They looked drunk or already high on something. That was probably the pill I had seen him hand her. When the ceremony ended, everyone gathered around Mama and Mr. Fletcher to congratulate them. I lifted Baby Celeste in my arms and stepped back to watch.

  "So. I guess this means I've got myself a new brother," I heard Betsy say, and turned to her and Dirk. "Whether I like it or not. Say hello to my brother, Noble man. Dirk."

  "Yeah, hi." he said, and squeezed my hand hard. I didn't grimace and he laughed and then brushed Baby Celeste's hair. "Hey, you did a great job carrying the ring, kid."

  She just stared at him the way Mama would, her eves full of ice.

  "Noble used to be my real brother's friend until he died, right, Noble?"

  "Yes."

  "Noble raises plants and chops wood all day."

  "I'm going to go help bring out the food." I said.

  "Noble's perfect. He's a perfect child and never causes his mother a moment's brief." Betsy told Dirk in a voice loud enough to follow me.

  I paused and turned back to her. "If you want to help, follow me."

  "Right." she said. "Just lead the way."

  I started toward the house and heard them both laugh, Mr. Bogart's wife and Tani Austin were already inside preparing to bring out the food.

  "I just love a down-to-earth wedding like this," Tani Austin said. "Too many affairs we go to are impersonal." She turned to Baby Celeste and me. "Your little cousin is the cutest child I have ever seen. I can see the family resemblances," she added, but not like a busybody.

  "Thank you." I said, then helped bring out the food. Mama had prepared it all with her special herbal seasonings. We had turkey and roast beef, creamed onions, mashed potatoes, an assortment of vegetables, and homemade bread. Mr. Bogart had brought white and red wine, and Mama had permitted Mr. Fletcher to get the wedding cake from a baker who was one of his customers and who wanted to do something special. It had three layers with a chocolate trim around each. At the top were the two figurines under an arch created out of candy cane.

  Before we began to eat, the reverend rose to make a toast: "There is no more magical word than family. It is truly a human garden in which the plants have to be nurtured with love and care. Both of you" -- he looked at Mama and Mr. Fletcher -- "have had more than your fair share of hardships, but somehow, through it all, you have endured and grown stronger. Nothing will make you both stronger than your union today, and nothing will be more of a blessing to your children than the love you bring to bear on them all. To your good fortune."

  Everyone drank.

  I glanced at Betsy. She wasn't laughing. She was staring with such anger and distaste at Ma-ma and her father that it put a dark spot of terror in my heart. Then she turned to Dirk, whispered in his ear, and they both laughed again. They ate what they wanted and suddenly decided they were going to leave.

  Betsy asked me if I wanted to join them. "We're going to meet some friends and party. Why don't you come along?"

  They haven't cut the wedding cake yet." I said.

  "So what? It's just cake. Where were going there'll be lots better." I shook my head. "It's their wedding and its not over."

  "Oh, brother. What am I going to do about my new brother, Dirk?" He shook his head. "Hey, if he's happy, let him be."

  She stepped closer to me. "Are you happy. Noble? Should I let you be?" She deliberately brushed her breasts against my shoulder.

  I looked about in a panic.

  She laughed. "Don't worry." She took Dirk's hand. devote myself to helping you get over your shyness,"

  It sounded more like a threat than a promise. Trailing laughter, they hurried away to Dirk's car, not even taking the time to congratulate her father and Mama or tell them they were leaving.

  Once again. Mr. Fletcher apologized for her. and once again Mama told him not to worry.

  "I hope you will someday soon think of me as your new father," he said to me later. He had drunk quite a bit of wine by then and he looked a little sad. I thought. "I hope like me you will see all of this as a new start, a new chance for happiness."

  I thanked him and then I looked over at Mama and saw an expression of great satisfaction on her face. She had taken the first important step in her plan to create a world safe and perfect for Baby Celeste, but would it be perfect and safe for me? I wondered,

  Afterward, while everyone was enjoying Mr. Longo's music and relaxing. I had an opportunity to be by myself. I wandered up to the old cemetery and stood just in front of where I knew Noble was lying. Twilight had begun and it was that time of day when shadows nudged each other and began to awaken and stretch. When we were little. Noble and I thought night came about because all the shadows merged and blanketed the earth in darkness. The morning light would shatter them again and shrink them.

  "But where do the shadows go in the daytime?" he always wanted to know. He asked Daddy, too. but Daddy didn't have a satisfactory answer for him. Daddy's answers were too scientific to satisfy a young boy with an active imagination.

  "Where do shadows go?" he persisted, turning to Mama for the answers now. When Noble was curious about something, really curious, he was relentless. "They always come cut the same way, with the same shape, don't they?" he pointed out.

  It was a good observation. I thought, and even though I was satisfied with Daddy's answers. I looked forward to Mama's response.

  "They go to sleep," she finally told him. "They sleep in the daytime."

  "Where?'' Noble chased.

  "In the earth."

  That wasn't a good enough answer either. If they were asleep in the earth, why couldn't he dig them up?

  Did he still wonder about such things? Is a spirit curious or does a spirit know everything? When would I truly be like Mama and be able to have long conversations with our spiritual family and not just hear a few words and see them for seconds or see them like someone saw a mirage? Would I ever? Had it all passed me by and now, as she said, taken hold of Baby Celeste instead?

  The voices of the wedding attendees were carried up to me in the soft, cooler evening breeze. Stars were beginning to emerge and twinkle above.

  I looked toward the forest. but I saw nothing.

  "Where are you tonight, Daddy?" I asked. Are you here? Are you upset? Please come back to me," I begged.

  There was the sound of laughter now and music again.

  I turned and slowly walked ba
ck to the tables and the people. Mama was singing for them. She was singing "La Vie en Rose." The reverend and his wife. Tani, held hands like two new young lovers. Dave was gazing at Mama with such affection in his eyes.

  I should be happy for her. I thought. She's so happy. Her voice is so full and perfect.

  But when I looked up at the house and at a window that I knew to be one in my room. I saw the glow of the light from the hallway, and in the pane, silhouetted clearly to me. was Elliot. In the silvery glow of the starlight. I was sure he was smiling.

  After all now, he was securely inside the house and not just inside my troubled heart.

  12

  Just You and Me

  Against All These Females

  .

  For a while I thought Mr. Fletcher might be

  right: this was a new start, anew chance for happiness for all of us. even Betsy. She was occupied with her new social life and surprised her father and us at dinner one night by declaring that she wanted to enroll in the community college.

  Mr. Fletcher was so happy about it that he nearly leaped out of his chair to kiss her. "That is wonderful news. Betsy, just wonderful. If you do well at the community college, you'll be able to get into a four-year school and complete your degree. What are you thinking of becoming?" The words rushed out of his mouth so quickly it was like a dam full of hope had been broken. It made me think these words, this optimism, these ideas, had been held in escrow in his head for so long, they flooded over his tongue and nearly caused him to gag with enthusiasm.

  "You know that you ought to seriously consider teaching. Sarah can give you some pointers about that, having been a teacher herself. Or you could think of a career in the medical field. I could help you with that. You might even think of a business degree."

  After his outburst, he sat there, smiling stupidly at her. Mama and I and even Baby Celeste just stared at Betsy, waiting for her to respond. Now she looked like the one who was overwhelmed. She glanced at each of us and then back at him.

  "I don't know," she finally muttered. "Don't get so excited. Daddy. I said I was thinking about doing it. I didn't say I would definitely do it."