DeBeers 03 Twisted Roots

by V. C. Andrews

  "They hardly found that,- Mommy told him in a tone of chastisement. I remember wondering why she was sa mad at him for saying something that sounded so innocent.

  Whether by design or accident, all the artifacts in the room were sexually suggestive. There were small bronze statues of naked men and women on the dresser and nightstands, one with a man and a woman kissing passionately. There was a large statue of the goddess Diana, the huntress with her bow drawn against her naked bosom. It was set on a pedestal in the far right corner, but she was aiming at the bed.

  The bed had three large pillows and two small ones set atop a crimson spread. When I was very little and had only quick glances of the room. I imagined the bed was soaked in blood. Now, standing and gazing at it in the light of the afternoon sun filtering through the curtains, it looked as if it had the folds of two bodies imprinted, two people who had just recently lain side by side on the bed. When I drew closer. I saw that wasn't so. It was just an illusion of shadows and light.

  I had never opened the closet door, but turned to do so now. Surprisingly, I found a sheer nightgown still hanging an the inside of the door. The closet had some garments, a few skirts and blouses, and on the shelf above, some shoe boxes. I sifted through the clothing and looked at some, measuring the skirts against ine. They were all about my size. I imagined they once belonged to my grandmother. Grace Montgomery, I wondered why no one had ever taken them away or given them away.

  In fact. as I studied the room. I realized the hairbrush was still on the vanity table as well as hairpin holders and hairpins, some pearl hair combs, makeup brushes, and even tubes of

  When I opened the drawer I saw some costume jewelry, earrings and bracelets. In another drawer I found two pearl necklaces and a half dozen boxes of pearl earrings to match.

  I remembered Mommy telling me that Uncle Linden once staved in this room. How could he want to sleep in here? What did it do for him? Was he trying to kill the demons or face them down? Surely, they had moved all of this out when he was living here. When he left, everything had been returned, but why? It was eerie how everything had been restored. It was almost as if my grandmother was expected back, that she wasn't dead, only away. Maybe it was something Uncle Linden had insisted an doing. I thought, and made a mental note to ask Mommy about it someday. Of course, she would wonder why I was exploring in this room in the first place. Maybe I was better off asking Uncle Linden himself. If it upset him. however_. Mommy would be very angry at me.

  There were just too many secrets, too many unanswered questions, too many forbidden topics in our family, I thought, and all because of what had happened in this room.

  I returned to the side of the bed and put my hand on the red comforter. Closing my eyes. I tried to envision my grandmother, not too much older than I was, trusting this handsome man who portrayed himself as her loving guardian, assuring her that he wasn't going to hurt her, but instead would only help her step into maturity and sophistication, confusing and blinding her with his soft words, his gentle, loving touch until he was at her, consuming her in his own lust and passion and then leaving her innocence smashed and crushed on this very bed, leaving her like some wilted flower that had lost all hope of sunshine. She would draw the curtains on her shame and choke back her tears. All the crying she would do would be inside herself.

  What was it like for her to realize she was pregnant with Uncle Linden? Her shame was so great, making her keep it secret too long. She was

  embarrassed and felt allay and at fault. How do you tell your mother you have slept with her husband? I'm sure she felt that it was somehow her fault, that she had done something she shouldn't have done.

  The same was true for poor Uncle Linden living under the cloud of despair, believing his very existence was destroying his own mother. No wonder he had tried suicide. I thought. No wonder he was so confused and lost. He was as innocent as my little brother down the hall. He didn't deserve the selfinflicted punishment, and he certainly didn't deserve to be treated like an unperson, a pariah in this snobby, rich community.

  And he certainly didn't deserve to be kept out of this house at such a supposedly happy time!

  I gazed about this room with fury. I hated this room. Why was it kept so sacrosanct? Why wasn't it stripped to the bone and left to be what it was? Why were its walls protected so the sin that happened in it could remain? Defy any curse! I cried inside. There wasn't a curse. There is just stupidity... and fear.

  In a burst of anger I pulled off the bloodred comforter and tossed it to the floor, Then I threw off the pillows as well and tore away the sheets until there was nothing but a naked mattress. Not satisfied. I ripped away the silk drapery from the pasts and heaved them beside the bedding. When I stopped and stepped back, the bed looked reduced to merely what it was: wood, cloth, and springs. It was

  indistinguishable from any other old furniture. It was no longer a stage or a scene of anything. It was merely a bed.

  Contented. I left it like that and closed the door behind me. The house was silent, so silent. I could hear the pounding of my awn heart. It took the remainder of the afternoon for me to calm down.

  In the end Miguel did not have dinner with me. He told me he thought it would be better if he ate with Mommy in her room,

  "She says she doesn't want company, but she really does. I'm sure you understand," he said.

  I didn't, but I didn't tell him so. Sitting alone at our long dining room table. I not only felt silly. I felt like a stranger. Above me. Mommy, Miguel, and little Claude were together. I had little appetite and didn't eat much. When I went upstairs. I heard laughter behind Mommy's bedroom door. For a moment I debated going there, but decided to delve into my homework instead. I shut my own bedroom door and put on some music. It was hard to concentrate. Every once in a while I would stop to think about them.

  As the evening continued. I anticipated the discovery of what I had done to the forbidden bedroom, but no one came to my door. I didn't know Lila's schedule, It could very well be a day or two before she or anyone would go into that bedroom. Which was fine with me. I had no idea what I would say or how I would defend what I had done.

  I called Heyden, but his sister said he had gone out. She said she would tell him I had called. but I knew she wouldn't.

  As I expected, the next day at school he told me she had never given him the message.

  "Which doesn't surprise me." he said. "The drugs she uses and the music she blasts through her head have blown out half her brain."

  He paused and squinted a little as he ran his eyes over my face. "Something wrong?" he asked. "You look down."

  I told him what had happened with little Claude and the way Mommy had behaved.

  "It's been so long since she was a mother. I guess she's just very nervous." he said. I thought it was ironic that he was the one finding ways to defend her. If he only knew how much she wanted me to stop investing my time and emotions in him and his family problems, he might not be so charitable. I thought.

  "I know what SIDS means. I'm nervous, too, but no one seems to notice." I moaned.

  Heyden nodded. but I could see he didn't fully appreciate how I felt. Not being noticed in his own home was not as unusual for him as it was for me. At the moment I wondered who was really better off. When you don't have many expectations, even in relation to the people you love and who are supposed to love you, you don't suffer disappointment or sadness as often. I envied him his independence.

  I told him why I couldn't be at his house for another rehearsal: my half brothers' birthday.

  "They never treat me like a sister, but my father tries to keep our relationship alive." I explained.

  "Your life is so complicated." he said, his voice dripping with disappointment. "Maybe we're just fooling Ourselves about the music and performing."

  "My life is not so complicated. Heyden. We'll rehearse tomorrow night. I promise," I said.

  I hadn't seen his skeptical look for some time now, but it was there again
, seemingly emerging from the darkest places in his heart.

  "We'll set," he said, sounding as uncommitted as he could.

  It bothered me all day. My twin half brothers would certainly not appreciate my being at the dinner as much as Heyden would appreciate my being with him. but I couldn't help wanting to be with Daddy. Little Claude's arrival, as wonderful as it really was, left me feeling like a small boat left out at sea, searching desperately for a lifeline. I was bobbing about on wave after wave of conflicting emotions. They twisted and turned like a tornado in my heart. Who could blame me for searching for blue skies?

  I wasn't finding- them in my mind or outside. The sky became mare and more overcast as I returned from school. By the time I arrived at Java del Mar, there were sprinkles turning into a steady downpour. I put my briefcase aver my head and charged for the front door.

  I could see that nothing had changed very much at home. The downstairs was deserted, few lights on. Although Mommy was out of bed, she was still locked up in her bedroom, hovering about little Claude, monitoring his every breath and movement. She looked up quickly when I came pounding up the stairway and rushed to her door.

  "Easy, easy," she ordered. "You'll frighten the baby and bring in a cold draft."

  "I was just anxious to see how he was doing." I said.

  She shook her head. "He's doing all right, but he has to be watched carefully."

  "You'll make yourself sick jumping at every movement he makes," I said.

  She turned to me with a face I couldn't recall ever seeing. From the way she had described her to me, I imagined it was just the sort of face she had often seen turned on her by her stepmother. The anger around her eyes made them dark, and her lips thinned and whitened in the corners.

  "An infant is completely helpless. Hannah. He doesn't understand what's happening to him. Of course I have to study every movement he makes. I'm surprised at you for saying something like that."

  "I just... I was just worried about you," I said.

  "Worry about little Claude, not me." she snapped, and then she turned back to the baby. I was about to leave when she spun around and cried. "Hannah!"

  "What?"

  "I don't understand you."

  "What? I told you I was just worried about you and--"

  "I don't mean this. I just remembered what Lila came to tell me a few hours ago. Did you go into that bedroom and make a mess of it?" she shrilled.

  I simply stood there gaping back at her. For a moment or two I went numb inside. This morning when I had awakened, what I had done had seemed more like a dream,

  'How could you do something like that and especially now? What's going on in your head? Well?"

  The tears were streaming down my face. "Well!" she demanded so sharply, I winced.

  "I went in there and I kept thinking about Uncle Linden and all the terrible things that have happened to him because of what had happened in that room. You told me about it yourself."

  "So you took it out on a bedroom, on blankets and sheets and pillows? What sort of behavior is that for a girl who is nearly seventeen years old. Hannah?"

  "I was angry."

  "I don't understand you. Hannah. When this situation eases up, I'm going to have a serious talk with you. You are obviously spending too much time with Linden, and it's causing you to have some very serious confusion."

  "Right. Just consider me one of your clients," I snapped back at her.

  Before she could respond, I pivoted sharply and left her to march quickly to my bedroom. I heard her call after me when I closed my door. For a few moments I just stood there, shaking all over. The sound of a thunderclap made me jump. Seconds later the rain began pounding so hard against my windows, I thought the drops would shatter the glass. The storm seemed very appropriate. It was as if Mother Nature was tuned in to me. The gloom that fell over the house fit my mood.

  But the downpour didn't last very long, and by the time Daddy arrived to pick me up, the clouds had begun to drift apart and permit the remaining sunlight to leak through and make the wet leaves, flowers, and grass dazzling. Talk about schizophrenics. I thought; Mother Nature was the biggest one of all.

  I hadn't forgotten about the party for my half brothers. I showered, fixed my hair, and then put on one of my prettiest dresses: a mock two-piece with a metallic ribbed tube top and a metallic chiffon A-line skirt.

  Dinners at Daddy's were most often formal. The twins were usually in matching sports jackets and slacks. Daddy wore a suit and Danielle wore an elegant dress as well. Guests, who were most often clients of Daddy's, came just as dressed up. There were always two maids serving, even when there were only the five of us.

  I heard the front door open below and Daddy ask for me and then for Mommy. Miguel, who was downstairs, greeted him.

  They were speaking in the hallway at the foot of the stairs when I emerged from my room and began to descend. Both my fathers looked up at me.

  "Well, well." Daddy said. "Here comes the heartbreaker. She's going to leave a string of lovesick corpses behind. eh. Miguel?'

  "Absolutely." he said. I knew that Mommy had told him everything I had done. I could see it in the restraint in his face. He had the gift Daddy had brought in his hands and turned back to Daddy. "Thanks for this. I'm sorry Willow is unable to greet you. Thatcher."

  "Oh, that's all right. I understand. I have a few new mothers as clients for one reason or another. They are a separate species, if you ask me." Daddy replied. "Ready. Miss America?"

  "Yes. Daddy." I looked at Miguel, 'Tell Mommy I'll stop by before I go to bed." I said.

  He just nodded.

  'Have a good time," he said when Daddy opened the door. "And give our best wishes to your boys."

  "Will do," Daddy said. I knew he wouldn't, and even if he did, neither Adrian nor Cade would care or even acknowledge it, especially if they hadn't been given anything to add to their mountain of

  possessions.

  "It's like a morgue in there." Daddy muttered as we headed for his car. "I thought the birth of a new baby would add festivity and sunshine to Joya Del Mar. The place reminds me of what it was like when Linden lived there. Gloom and doom," he muttered and opened the door for me,

  "Wasn't Uncle Linden ever happy, Daddy?" I asked when he got in behind the steering wheel.

  "Oh, he had his moments. I suppose. But then he realized it and quickly shifted back to a creature of the night," he said. smiling.

  We pulled away, I gazed back at the house and thought about Mommy and how angry she was with me. I didn't want this to happen. Everything just seemed to be going in the wrong direction. Na matter what I did. I felt like a fly caught in a web of confusing emotions. It wrapped itself around me so my life could be drained of any pleasure.

  "Hey." Daddy said, poking me playfully. "Stop looking like you're on your way to the death chamber. This is supposed to be a party. Join me in celebrating another year closer to setting the two of them loose on the world and on their own." he said. smiling.

  I smiled back.

  Maybe Mommy was right. Maybe Daddy was a selfish person, but I rarely, if ever, saw him unhappy or depressed. His loose approach to everything, always seeing something funny in the events that happened around him, was never more refreshing to me than it was at this moment.

  "Here are your birthday cards for them." Daddy said, tapping a small paper bag.

  I took them out They were humorous ones and both the same. Was it always like this for twins: everything simply duplicated? I was glad I had no twin. It seemed difficult to get people to treat you as an individual, to see you a separate being with your own likes and dislikes.

  "'Here," Daddy said, offering me his pen. "I feel funny doing this. Daddy."

  "What?"

  "Pretending I bought the cards and the gifts. What are the gifts?"

  "Hand-held PCs. They can use them for addresses, notes, calculating-- they can even get on the Web with them. They're the best out there."

  "But I did
n't really buy them."

  "What's the difference who buys them? They still come from you to them and that's all that matters," he assured me.

  I signed the cards. but I didn't feel attached to anything or any real emotional involvement. We shared a father, but to me Adrian and Cade were almost alien creatures. Unless Daddy brought me there, they never spoke to me, called me on the phone, or ever thought to visit me. One of my girlfriends at school. Natalie Alexander, knew them because her father was friends with Daddy. She just loved being the first to tell me news about them, underscoring how little contact I had with my awn brothers,

  "Oh, didn't you blow that?" she would sing, stinging me with her sweetness.

  Daddy's butler greeted us at the door and took the gifts he and I had supposedly bought and brought them into one of the three sitting rooms. The moment she had heard us arrive. Danielle came down the stairs quickly to greet me. She looked so young, far too young to be the mother of the twins. I thought. I knew she liked to read. but I always wondered how she occupied her time. Daddy's house had far more servants than ours. Mommy wanted only Lila and Mrs. Haber, who did most of our cooking. Lila did it on Mrs. Haber's day off.

  Daddy had three full-time maids, a cook, and a butler. Danielle had no house duties whatsoever. She had no career as such, unless you considered being Daddy's wife and the twins' mother a career. Mommy categorized it as being more like a prison sentence. A good deal of her time was taken up with what Mommy sarcastically called her beautification. When I once made the mistake of saying Danielle was very pretty. Mommy turned on me with fiery green eyes of jealousy,

  "Thatcher wouldn't tolerate it any other way. She has to look young and beautiful all day and all night." she said.

  Truthfully. I never saw Danielle caught by surprise, looking untidy. Her hair was always perfect, as was her makeup, and she was always well put together, everything from her earrings dawn to her shoes well coordinated, just as they were tonight. I was sure all that did take a lot of time and effort. Maybe Danielle believed she was constantly on a stage, but surely it was the life she wanted. I thought.