Hudson 03 Eye of the Storm

by V. C. Andrews

  "But finally, the love raging in my heart burst and I couldn't stand being away. I drove here, parked my car far enough away, and ran through the darkness and the woods to sneak onto your property and to your window.

  "And now," he said lowering his body to the bed and crawling in beside me. "I am here and I feel complete again."

  We kissed. I clung to him.

  "It will be all right," he whispered. "We will be all right."

  It was our they-lived-happily-forever-ending for sure, I thought.

  Contentment led to passion. I couldn't keep myself from crying out. That witch of a maid must have been hovering in the hallway. She came to the door and actually had the nerve to try to open it.

  "Are you all right in there?" she asked. She wasn't asking because she was concerned about me. She just wanted to know what I was doing so she could make her report to my aunt.

  "Leave me alone." I shouted.

  We waited and then heard her walk away.

  "My aunt must have gone to some prisoner of war criminal camp to find someone like her," I told Austin.

  He laughed and kissed me again and again we made love. Then he lay his head between my breasts and we slept. Neither of us kept track of the time, nor did we hear anything or anyone outside my room.

  I was sure about what happened next. My aunt returned and Mrs. Churchwell made her spy report. She told her how I had locked my door and chased her away. Full of suspicion because she herself was a veteran of deceit, my aunt located a room key and tiptoed up to the door. She stood outside with her ear to it and then slowly, quietly inserted the key and opened my door. She could see Austin beside me, bathed in the moonlight that streamed in from the window. How her heart must have skipped with pleasure at the discovery.

  It was like an explosion. She snapped on the light and screamed. her right arm out, the finger pointed like a pistol at us,

  "Rape!" she cried. "This is nothing less than rape. The girl is a helpless cripple and you've raped her again!"

  Austin was flustered and confused, he could barely speak. Neither of us expected her to do what she did next. All I anticipated was her screaming some more and then slamming the door after her threats. But she was like an executioner who loved her work, someone who wanted and needed to throw salt on wounds.

  "Come here. Mrs. Churchwell," she ordered. "and bear witness to this lechery."

  Suddenly. Mrs. Churchwell stepped up beside her. Austin had only raised his head in disbelief. I was about to scream back at Victoria, but she surprised us both by lunging at the bed and grabbing the blanket. She pulled it away so quickly and completely. I was shocked at her strength. There we were, both naked. exposed. Austin dropped his hands to cover his private parts. Her eyes widened and she smiled.

  "Deny it now," she said through her teeth. "Deny what you've done with her. Bear witness, Mrs. Churchwell, Gaze upon this sordid, disgusting display." Mrs. Churchwell nodded. "Do you see it?"

  "Yes," she said.

  "Get out!" I finally was able to shout. "Both of you let out of my room!"

  My aunt stood her ground. holding the blanket, enjoying her small victory. Then she turned to Mrs. Churchwell and they left slowly, my aunt dropping the blanket to the floor as she closed the door.

  "My God," Austin said scrambling for his clothing. He scooped up the blanket and spread it back over me. "I've really gone and done it now."

  "You see how terrible she can be?" I cried.

  "Yes. There's no telling what she's going to do next. I'd better go."

  He started for the door. then stopped and headed for the window.

  "I don't want to face her again," he said.

  "But Austin, you can't leave me here." He stood there a moment. thinking.

  "There's nothing we can do right now, Rain. I'll just have to come back for you."

  "Don't forget," I said.

  "I won't, but what will I tell my uncle when her lawyers call?" He shook his head, looking troubled, before crawling out the window, closing it behind him.

  A moment later he was gone. I never felt as alone, even in the hospital after my accident when I had first been told of my plight. It was impossible to fall asleep again. I could only lie there, trembling, and like Austin, wait for the second shoe to drop.

  .

  It did drop, but not the way he or I would have imagined. My aunt didn't return to my room. Mrs. Chuchwell left and then my aunt went upstairs. I finally did fall asleep for a few hours. I woke up to the sound of my aunt's familiar heavy footsteps. I struggled to rise and get myself into my chair and to the bathroom to wash and then to dress for what I believed was going to be a terrible day.

  I was sitting up in bed, the blanket wrapped around my shoulders when she opened the door and entered my room. She gazed around, listened and then nodded.

  "He's gone, I take it?" she said in a sweet, almost pleasant voice.

  She still wore her faded pink, terrycloth robe. Without makeup, her face wrinkled from her night's sleep and her hair unruly, she looked like one of those poor, disheveled homeless women who used to inhabit the alleys and dumps near the projects where I lived in Washington.

  In her right hand, she clutched a light yellow folder.

  "Yes." I said. "He left right after you burst in on us. You have some nerve invading my privacy."

  "Invading your privacy?" She laughed and then grew stem. "You don't have a right to privacy. Not if you're going to conduct yourself like some street girl in my mother and father's house where only dignity and proper behavior were ever tolerated. I'm sure my mother would have changed her mind about you on the spot if she had been beside me last night. And after all the warnings and all the advice I have given you!

  "Just like Megan, bringing disgrace to our doorstep. How many times did my father have to pay someone off or buy someone's favor just to keep our good name as high as it should be? More times than I care to count. I can tell you that much," she said, answering her own question quickly.

  "Well, now that he was so brazen about his seduction of you, I have Mrs. Churchwell as a reliable witness,"

  "I wasn't seduced. I love Austin and he loves me," I insisted. She wagged her head.

  "Of course you do. What girl in your place, crippled, sentenced to be in a wheelchair her whole life, wouldn't grasp at the first good-looking face to turn his false smile to you and fill you with fictitious promises? Why, most girls who weren't in

  wheelchairs would fall for those lines and winks these days, much less someone like you."

  "Stop it! You don't know what you're talking about. You could never understand." I yelled.

  Aunt Victoria stretched her thin lips into a mean spinster smile.

  "Why, child, there are few as well equipped to understand the craftinesses of men, their slyness and guile. Unlike most. I am not blinded by phony compliments. You might say I have a built-in lie detector. It rings here." she said putting her left hand over her heart. "and sends warnings immediately to here." She pointed at her temple.

  "What did that fortune hunter tell you?" she continued, stepping closer. "Did he tell you that you were just as beau-EH as before, maybe even more so? Did he tell you that you made his day, made his heart sing, brought such joy to him that he couldn't imagine himself without you? Did he tell you he saw you everywhere, constantly heard your voice and you were stuck in his mind forever and ever? Did he promise to always cherish and love you. too?"

  "Yes, yes, yes, yes to all of that." I screamed at her. "And he means it and we will be in love and we will be together."

  She nodded.

  "We'll see," she said. "Maybe some day, I'll stop protecting you and you will end up with someone like him."

  "I won't end up with someone like him. I'll end up with him," I vowed.

  "Fine. But first you had better listen to me and do what I want you to do."

  She opened the file and took out some documents, spreading them on the bed before me.

  "I haven't just been si
tting on my hands while precious Megan has been twisting and turning Grant in the wind. you know. Your mother gave up responsibility for you long ago. We certainly can't expect her to do anything for you now. Because of your incapacity. I have had my lawyers petition the court to appoint me your guardian. Yes, you can get your attorney to put up resistence, but I don't think you will.

  "In the meantime, these documents here," she said taking out others. "are the documents to be sent to the state concerning your fortune-hunter's company."

  "Stop calling him that," I said. She shrugged.

  "Call him what you want. These other documents," she continued. "constitute a lawsuit I intend to file against the therapy company. It will bankrupt him just to put up a defense. You know how lawyers can bleed you," she said gleefully.

  "Here are the press releases I've had written as well," My eyes were stinging with tears.

  "Now," she went on. "none of this will go any further if you sign this."

  She brought out another document.

  "What is that?"

  "It's the power of attorney I've been begging you to sign. Once I'm in complete control of the estate's business again, we'll all be better off, including you."

  "This is blackmail. I'll tell my lawyer,"

  "You don't have to tell him. I'll just go forward with all the rest of this and you don't have to sip the paper if you don't want to. Suit yourself," she said gathering up the papers and putting them back in her folder.

  "Listen," I said in a voice of calm reason, "I'll have Mr. Saner contact you and your attorneys and you can work out whatever compromise you want and I'll leave."

  "With that boy?"

  "What's that matter to you?"

  "If you think he won't go and make trouble afterward, you're an even worse dreamer than your mother. The moment he marries you, he'll hire an attorney to sue me and start all this over," she said.

  "No, he won't. I promise."

  "Promises. Do you know what promises made by women such as you are? Cotton candy. Dreams and illusions followed by dramatic proclamations peppered with I swears all over the place. I know. Megan has made me a thousand promises if she's made one and not one has ever been followed or come true."

  "I'm not Mean!" I cried. She stared a moment.

  "Yes, you are." she said. She looked around the room and at the bed as if Austin were still beside me. Then she looked at my naked shoulders and into my eyes and repeated. "Yes, you are."

  She put the power-of-attorney document on the bed with a pen beside it.

  "Sign it and I'll put all these other documents on the shelf. "I'll be back in ten minutes." she added and left.

  I sat there, feeling as if all the blood in my body had drained to my feet. I was actually so dizzy I had to lower my head to the pillow for a few moments and take deep breaths.

  Of course, she was wrong about Austin. I thought, but she was too paranoid and distrusting to believe in any guarantees I might make. I braced myself on my right elbow and looked at the paper she had left. This will never end until she gets her way with this. I thought. I was tired of fighting with her. Anyway, how could I let her destroy Austin's reputation and his uncle's business?

  I took the pen in hand. I feared I was signing a deal with the devil.

  I wrote my name on the line nevertheless. Maybe now it would end. I thought.

  I should have realized.

  Now it would really begin.

  14

  Struggling for Freedom

  .

  Aunt Victoria returned to my bedroom, saw the

  paper had been signed, put it in her yellow folder and smiled. "Good," she said. "You've made the right decision. Now, things will go so much better for the both of us, especially for you."

  "I want my phone reactivated immediately," I said. "And I want the keys to my van."

  "Anything else?" she asked. Her smile now cutting so sharply in her pallid face and her eyes turning so cold, she looked like she had become a wax replica of herself.

  "Yes. I don't want Austin or his uncle bothered or threatened and I want you to keep that spy of yours out of my face."

  "Actually," she said, surprising me. "I was thinking of dismissing Mrs. Churchwell. You've been correct about her. She isn't very much of a cook and I'm not pleased with her cleaning and maintenance of the house. She cuts corners. Mother would have fired her the day after she had been hired. For what I'm paying her. I can have two maids."

  "Good," I said. I certainly didn't feel sorry for Mrs. Churchwell.

  "There, you see how well you and I can get along if you're cooperative." my aunt said. She started out. "I'll have her prepare your breakfast for you and then leave,"

  "I don't want her to prepare anything for me. I can take care of myself."

  "Fine," she said. "It will make it easier. I'll give her two weeks salary and send her on her way. For a while," she added. "it will just be the two of us."

  No, it won't. I thought. because I'll be out of here myself today.

  "Before you go to your office, please leave the van keys on the kitchen table," I asked as she started away.

  She paused, nodded slightly with that same waxen smile, then left. I got myself out of bed and into the bathroom. I wasn't sure where I would go or what I would do, but it was exciting just

  contemplating leaving. I'd call Austin as soon as I could, of course, and let him know where I was. Then. I would drive to Mr. Sanger's office, and have him do whatever was necessary to set up funding for myself and Austin. He'd be upset I had signed the power of attorney paper. but I didn't care anymore about the house or the business anyway. Let her wallow in her victory and live in her dark loneliness, if she liked.

  Maybe I could convince Austin to move to England with me. He could do whatever he had to do to become a licensed therapist there. We could set up a small flat together and start a whole new life away from all this trouble and unhappiness. We would see my father and his family often, go to the theater and spend nice weekend afternoons in the parks.

  As I soaked in the tub. I dreamed of Austin and me along the Thames, going to a nice cafe, doing all the things I had done before my accident.

  Practically all public places made

  accommodations for handicapped people now. We could go to museums, travel in the countryside, do anything we wanted. I envisioned all of us at Sunday high tea, my father and his family and Austin and me, talking, listening to music and simply enjoying each other's company. I could still have a lift. I thought.

  My aunt believed she had won. She considered all this a victory. Little did she understand that she was really freeing me from bondage. Actually. I should be the one thanking her, All I had really done. I concluded, was sin over my rights to a sinking ship, a depressingly dark and unhappy ship floating in a sea of tears.

  Go celebrate your false victory. Aunt Victoria. Cherish your precious legal papers, brag to your friends and spend the rest of your life with a heart aching for a man you will never have. One day you'll wake up in this house or wherever you are and realize you've amounted to nothing. You'll have only your own shadow to keep you company and you'll hear only your own voice. You'll be more of a prisoner than I have ever been. Maybe you won't be in a wheelchair, but you'll be handicapped. Of that. I'm sure, I thought.

  My musings were interrupted by the sounds of banging, a series of thumps echoing from outside. I even heard what sounded like a saw. I imagined it was the grounds people who came weekly to tend to the property and thought no more about it.

  After I got myself out of the tub and dry. I dressed myself and then found a couple of suitcases in the back of my closet. I was too excited about leaving to think about getting myself some breakfast first. Instead. I spent most of the remainder of the morning choosing what I wanted to take with me and packing. Once that was all accomplished. I sat back contented and then finally decided I was hungry.

  I wheeled myself out. realizing I hadn't heard anyone making any noise in the hous
e all this time. I guessed Aunt Victoria really had given Mrs. Churchwell her walking papers, and she had already left without saying good-bye. That was good. I didn't cherish the idea of having to face her, even for one final time.

  My first disappointment came when I saw that Aunt Victoria had not left the van keys on the kitchen table as I had requested. I looked everywhere, even on the floor thinking they might have fallen somehow. I checked the counters, the chairs, everything, but saw no keys.

  Damn her. I thought. She deliberately didn't do it... or in her glorious haste forgot. I went to call her office and remembered the phone in the kitchen didn't work. A hive of frustration began to build rapidly in my chest, my anger buzzing and stinging until I felt hot rage.

  I spun in my chair and wheeled myself rapidly down the hallway to her office. Of course. it was locked. I rattled the door and slammed it with my fist, crying and screaming my aunt's name. Then I sat back and tried to think calmly. I'll just wheel myself out and down the ramp and down the driveway to the road. I'll stop a passing motorist and ask him or her to help me get to a phone.

  I turned my chair around and with renewed determination headed for the front door. It was a beautiful day, just a few clouds visible from the doorway. A warm breeze washed over my face, filling me with strength. I took a deep breath and wheeled myself out on the portico. This won't be difficult. I told myself. The first driver who sees me will surely pull over. It will be quite a sight to see a girl in a wheelchair hitchhiking. I laughed to myself and started for the ramp.

  Then my heart fell as if it had been turned to stone. I stared in disbelief.

  The ramp was gone!

  That was the banging and sawing I had heard when I was in the tub. Why had she done this? Was it merely in anticipation of my leaving? Why didn't she wait until I had actually left?

  Without the ramp, the steps looked foreboding. How would I get myself and my chair down? My frustration turned quickly to rage. I would not be defeated. As carefully as I could. I lowered myself from the chair to the floor of the portico. I decided I would push the chair down the steps as slowly as I could and then I would crawl, slide, do anything I had to do to get myself down and then climb back into the chair. It seemed like a good plan. so I began to carefully push the chair ahead.