DeBeers 03 Twisted Roots

by V. C. Andrews

  He just stared at me.

  "You understand?"

  "Oh. Sure. Let's go," he said, rising out of the seat.

  "Wait." I said, turning before we stepped out. "I had to tell him you were my father, so just call you Daddy in front of him and anyone else we meet. okay?"

  "Of course you will," he said, smiling again.

  It made me feel uneasy. but I just wanted to get all this over with as quickly as we could. He followed me out of the motor home,

  "This is my father. Mr Montgomery." I said, introducing him to Chubs.

  "Pleased to meet you," Chubs said. His hand all but swallowed up Uncle Linden's. "Let's see if we can get you people back on your way."

  "Yes, well, thank you." Uncle Linden said.

  "You get into the truck with Hannah. Uncle Linden." Heyden instructed.

  I led Uncle Linden to the truck, and he got in. Heyden leaped into the back. I got in and closed the door. and Chubs started up, shifted, and pulled away. I looked back at the crippled old motor home. To me it resembled a corpse that faded back into the darkness as we drove an. It probably belonged in Chub's friend's car cemetery.

  "I've lived here all my life." Chubs began. "Worked for Mr. Stanton and his daddy from the day I could lift a hammer and hold a saw. We was once the biggest peach orchard round here. The farm then was a little more than 250 acres. We growed cling, semisweet, and freestone peaches, harvesting cling all of May. Semisweet, May and June, and freestone midJune to the end of July. After Mr. Stanton Senior passed, we struggled along and eventually had to sell off about 170 acres to some land developers who wanted to build custom homes. Times got harder and harder for us, and without a son to take over, Mr, Stanton Junior just decided to let it all go. He sold off another fifty acres,

  "Made me feel like the world was closing in on us from all sides. We had to let all the farm workers go until there was just me left to keep things up at the house and such. We raise all the vegetables we need, gat some chickens, pigs and some cows, but it ain't nothin' like it once was."

  "Casa de la Luna is an interesting name for a farm." I said.

  "Is that what it's called?" Uncle Linden asked.

  Chubs laughed. "During the good days. Mr. and Mrs. Stanton used to do a European trip every year. One year she come back from France throwing them parlezyous's around and decided they just had to rename the farm Casa de le Luna cause of the way the moon spills itself over the place when it's full and such. Mr. Stanton, he just smiled at me and told me to go make a sign. He was always tryin' to please her until the day he died. He did what he could to make it seem as if they was still ridin' high.

  "Where you folks from?" Chubs asked without pausing for a breath.

  "We're from West Palm Beach." I said quickly. "This was supposed to be a little vacation for us."

  "Well. it'll still be once we get you fixed and back on the road." he said optimistically. "What sort of work you in. Mr. Montgomery?"

  "Work?"

  "My father's an artist." I said quickly.

  "An ar-teest? No foolin'. You make pictures end up in museums and such?"

  "No, not museums." Uncle Linden said. smiling. "Galleries."

  "Oh, that right?" Chubs said. but I could tell from the hesitation in his voice that he didn't quite understand. "Well, long as you make a livin' at what you like to do, you're a lucky man in this world. Yes. sir."

  "That's very, very true." Uncle Linden said. "Most of the people I knew who ended up where I am were depressed and upset about the way they had spent their lives."

  'Don't say? Where is that?"

  "What?"

  "Where is you at?"

  "Oh, my father means old friends he's known, People his age," I quickly explained.

  "I don't have any old friends left. I'm afraid," Chubs said. "Left 'em behind, pushin' up daisies and such. as Mr. Stanton Senior used to say."

  "Chubs is eighty-one, Daddy." I told Uncle Linden.

  "Eighty-one? Remarkable. What's your secret?"

  Chubs laughed. "Ain't got no secret. sir. I just get up every day and say, 'Hello, sunshine!' no matter what kind of day it is."

  "That's your secret," Uncle Linden said. "You refuse to be unhappy and say no to gloom and doom. I haven't felt that way for a long, long time, but I feel that way now, now that we've left."

  "That so? Well. I guess that's mighty good then, a mighty good thing. There she is ahead. Casa de le Luna!" Chubs cried. nodding.

  I looked out at the two-story home. As we drew closer. I saw the barns, pigpen. and chicken coop, but the house looked as if it had been lifted out of a historic neighborhood in same city like Charleston and plopped right down in this farmland. It had a twotiered entry porch with more slender Roman columns above. The home just looked too dainty and fancy for what was once a working farm home. It looked more like a home in which elegant parties were held for men in tuxedos and women in long gowns. I could almost hear the music and see the servants circulating with trays of hors d'oeuvres and champagne. No wonder Mrs. Stanton wanted to call it Casa de la Luna, I thought.

  Closer yet. I could see mare detail. There was a prominent center gable and side gable. The center gable was embellished with a semicircular window. The front windows were all aligned horizontally and vertically in symmetrical rows. A set of a half dozen steps led up to the short entry porch. The house was covered in a faded pink cream tinted stucco.

  "Here we are," Chubs declared bringing the truck to a stop. "Mrs. Stanton, she is set in her ways and more forgetful than ever these days, but she's never been anything but the queen of Southern hospitality."

  We all got out of the truck.

  "Everything okay?" Heyden whispered.

  "Yes."

  Chubs led us up the steps to the front entrance.

  "I made this here door myself." he said proudly and ran his hand over the embossed heavy dark oak.

  "It's a work of art," Uncle Linden said.

  "Well, thank you. sir. You been' an ar-teest and all, that means somethin.."

  He raised and lowered the ball-shaped knocker made of iron. We could hear the deep, hollow thump traveling through the inside of the house.

  "I coulda put in one of them electric door buzzers. but Mrs. LiDiann, she wanted everything to be old-fashioned. Casa de la Luna." he added, smiling and shaking his head.

  He had to strike the knocker again, and finally, a few seconds later, the door was opened by a small woman who looked barely five feet tall. She had a pretty face with hazel green eyes and dainty soft features highlighted by her full lips and graceful mouth. Her Confederate gray hair was thin but neatly swept up in a French twist. Two diamond stud earrings set in white gold twinkled in the light of an entryway teardrop chandelier. The earrings weren't ostentatious. They were just enough to accent. In fact, everything about her was elegant and stylish, especially her dark green sundress with bare shoulders and side panels that covered her elbows and lower arms. The color brought out the color of her eyes as well.

  She wore a pair of matching green flats. I saw she had a beautiful diamond wedding band and an expensive-looking jeweled oval-shaped watch.

  She smiled. "Oh, guests," she declared.

  "Yes, ma'am. These nice people broke down in the motor home 'bout a mile down Peach Tree Road. I didn't want to leave them there while I find out if we can get a enzint part they need."

  "Of course you didn't. Charles. Please come in." she said, stepping back.

  "Thank you," I said. "My name is Hannah. This is my father. Linden Montgomery, and my cousin, Heyden Reynolds."

  "Why, I am pleased to meetya'll. Welcome to Casa de la Luna. Just go right into my sittin' room there. and I'll see thatya'll get something cool to drink first. Charles, you do what you have to do to help these people. hear?"

  "Yes, ma'am. That's what I intend to do. I'm gonna call Billy Donald."

  "Don't tell -me what 'you're going to do. Charles. Just da it." she said, whipping her

  consonants.
Chubs smiled at us, seemingly enjoying the way this tiny woman ordered him about.

  "Yes, ma'am," he said and walked down the hallway and off to the left.

  "Please go in," she said, indicating the door on our right.

  It was a large sitting room with only two small Tiffany lamps lit at the moment, each throwing a pattern of color over the almond-colored walls. When she tamed on an overhead crystal chandelier, a wave of light brightened the room, and it was suddenly like an older woman who had been able to hide her age by using heavy makeup and staving mostly in shadows. The cold, cruel illumination revealed every wrinkle and imperfection. Like such a woman, the room was exposed far what it really was: a room full of very aged and tired furniture and worn area rugs.

  However, looking about. I could see that it was truly once a very beautiful room. All of the cornices and moldings were elaborate. The grand fireplace was constructed of rich-looking fieldstone and had a dark cherry mantel upon which was set a miniature grandfather clock stuck on twelve, probably for years. Above it was a grand portrait of what had surely been the senior Mr, and Mrs. Stanton. I could tell from their early 1900s style of clothing and the fact that the woman didn't look at all like Lilliann Stanton. She had red hair and was much taller with coarser features.

  Scattered about on tables and pedestals was a collection of small eclectic statuary that included cherubs, men in hunting outfits. Greek gods and goddesses, and one larger one that depicted a mother and daughter holding hands. Other pictures included landscapes in gilded frames.

  The sofas and chairs were missing some of their elaborate tassels, the wooden frames worn in spots and the velvety cushions threadbare and pale. Everything looked a bit dusty and neglected, the room resembling some chamber forgotten a long time ago, left to come to a standstill just like the small grandfather clock. I wondered if Mrs. Stanton had entertained any guests for years. She didn't seem to notice any of the imperfections and made no attempt to apologize for the room's condition.

  To our left on entering was the doorway to the dining room. It was dark. but I could see a very long table with upholstered high-back chairs and a chandelier above. There looked to be a long mirror on the right wall and a long china cabinet on the left with dinnerware visible behind closed glass doors.

  "Please, just make yourselves comfortable. I'll see to some mint iced tea."

  "Don't go out of your way, please." I said.

  "Oh, it's not out of my way. darlin'. It's just across the hall," she said with a laughing voice that seemed to ring back to younger days.

  Heyden smiled and shook his head. "I feel like we're on some strange movie set." he said. "Maybe they shot a scene from Gone With the Wind here or something."

  "This is very lovely." Uncle Linden declared. As before when he first viewed the motor home, he seemed either unwilling or meapable of seeing imperfections and disappointments. He was certainly looking at the world through different eyes since we had left Florida, I thought, and wondered if that was something good or bad,

  "I remember when Joya Del Mar had

  glamorous rooms and exquisite furnishings like this. Once it, too, had style. That was before the Eatons came in and turned everything into glitz and opulence. Those people had no taste, no sense of elegance."

  Maybe he was right. I thought, and looked again at the old artifacts, pictures, and statuary. As old and neglected as it all was, it at least had character.

  "Well. I got good news and bad," Chubs said returning just after we sat. "Billy's got an engine that surely has what we need, but he had to leave to go to his son's house to celebrate a weddin' anniversary. We can't get what we need until tomorrow. I'm afraid.'

  "Oh," Heyden said. despondent.

  "That's not such bad news," Lilliann Stanton declared as she walked in carrying a silver tray on which she had tumblers of iced tea. "Y'all will just stay over here at Casa de la Luna."

  "Thank you." Heyden said. "but we can probably return to our motor home for the night."

  "Don't forget what happened to the electricity," I whispered. "We can make do." he said sharply.

  "You got problems with the electric, too?" Chubs said, picking up on it.

  'Refrigerator went out," Heyden said. "I haven't gone through the rest of the appliances yet."

  "Well, all your food's gonna go bad."

  "Charles, how could you leave that there?" Lilliann chastised. He didn't know about it. Mrs. Stanton."

  "Well, you just drive right back to that vehicle and get their things, hear? We'll put them away here and save what we can," she insisted.

  "That's very kind of you." Uncle Linden said. "It's been a long time since anyone's been that kind to me."

  Mrs. Stanton beamed, "Why, sir. I can't imagine why not. What's this world comin' to when people can't treat each other with some common decency?"

  Uncle Linden nodded, "Exactly." he said sipping the iced tea. He held up the glass, twirling it in the light like some child mesmerized by the dancing colors and twinkling ice. "This is wonderful iced tea. I haven't had as good in years."

  "Well, thank you, sir." she said. It was my husband's favorite." Then she looked at Chubs. Are you still here. Charles?"

  "I'm goin'. What we might want to do." he added. Talking directly to Heyden now, "is tow that motor home back here tonight. Get it off the road. We're going to have to work on it here anyway. We'll take the tractor. I'll get everything together,"

  Heyden jumped up. "I'll do whatever I can to help you."

  "That's a good idea. Heyden. If we're going to sleep here, we'll need some things from the motor home." I told him.

  "Let me go along then and do what I can to help. too." Uncle Linden said.

  "Oh, that ain't necessary. Mr Montgomery. The young man and me can do what has to be done," Chubs said. "You just make yourself comfortable."

  Just at that moment we heard footsteps on the stairway. Chubs looked at Mrs. Stanton and then at us. The worried expression on his face stirred my curiosity. Who was coming? Both Chubs and Mrs. Stanton had said Mr. Stanton was dead. and Chubs hadn't mentioned anyone else to us.

  Whoever it was did not come to the sitting room doorway. Instead this person went directly into the dining room from the other side. I soon saw that it was a younger woman with long strawberry-blond hair that dropped limply down and over her shoulders. Even in the dimly lit roam. I could see her bangs were too long. She practically had to part strands of hair to see. She was wearing a marine blue robe with a pair of what looked like men's soft leather slippers.

  She turned so slowly toward us, it was like looking at someone in a dream. For a moment it did seem as if the world had came to a standstill. She was so frozen, and then she lifted her arms and cried. "Rosemary!"

  Chubs didn't see her, but he immediately looked down at the floor. Mrs. Stanton hoisted her eyebrows and tucked her mouth in at the corners, releasing a small, but audible groan of despair.

  The young woman started toward me. Heyden stepped up beside me protectively. The young woman stopped a few feet in front of me and shook her head. She was very pretty with an appropriate peach complexion to compliment her dazzlingly turquoise eyes. She had high cheekbones and a perfectly shaped mouth with full lips. There was a very slight cleft in her chin,

  "When did you come home? Why didn't you come right upstairs to see me. Rosemary. Grandma." she said, turning to MTS. Stanton, "why didn't you tell me Rosemary was home?"

  To my surprise. Mrs. Stanton replied. "She just this moment arrived. Bess."

  "Where's Nolan?" Bess asked, looking around. "Isn't he back, too?"

  MTS. Stanton shook her head slowly, her eyes blanketing with sadness. I looked at Heyden, whose eyes were wide with confusion. Chubs closed his and then turned slightly away. Uncle Linden looked pensive, concerned.

  "Oh, well, at least Rosemary is back." Bess declared and threw her arms around me, pulling me close to her. She had the aroma of lavender about her, something that smelled like scented bath oils
. I thought. Her embrace was strong. tight. I didn't struggle against it, but looked instead at Mrs. Stanton, who now seemed on the verge of tears.

  Bess finally released me and then put her hands on my shoulders to hold me away stiff-armed while she looked into my face and scowled.

  You naughty, naughty girl, running off like that with your father and leaving us worried sick. I should be very, very angry with you. Rosemary. but I won't be," she said, dissolving the scowl into a soft, loving smile. "I'll be goad and I'll make sure you're not unhappy anymore."

  She dropped her right hand to seize my left and turned,

  "Come along with me immediately." she said. "and see what improvements I've made in your room. Come on," she urged, tugging harder,

  "But I'm not Rosemary," I protested. Bess stopped, but clung tightly to my hand. She scowled again.

  "Now, don't start that business again. Rosemary. You are who you are no matter what anyone tells you. Besides," she added. smiling. "why would you want to be anyone else?"

  "But..."

  "Tell her. Grandma."

  I looked at Mrs. Stanton. She appeared to be breathing hard, her shoulders rising and falling with great effort. Whatever was happening was so terrible it was causing her to choke on her internal tears. Her face was losing color. She looked as if she might collapse.

  "It's all right," I said quickly, indicating I could deal with this.

  Bess didn't appear to be dangerous. She was someone who had obviously suffered some terrible emotional trauma. Years and years of nurturing Uncle Linden gave me the patience and compassion I needed for something like this. I thought, and besides. whether I wanted to admit to it or not. I was my mother's daughter.

  "I'm fine, It's all right." I whispered with assurance.

  Mrs. Stanton's face took on color immediately. The relief traveled up her neck and relaxed her shoulders. She looked at Bess, who was waiting anxiously for her response. She looked like she was holding her breath, in fact.

  You are Rosemary," Mrs. Stanton said to me and then recited. "You are your mother's daughter, my great-granddaughter, and you should be happy here. You never have run off with your Daddy."

  "See?" Bess cried, releasing her breath. "Come along." she urged again and tugged my arm as she stepped toward the doorway, "Let's not waste another moment,"