Heaven

by V. C. Andrews

  What had Granny always said? "Ya takes what ya get an makes t'most of it . . ."

  Well, I would have to accept what couldn't be helped now. Though it hurt to pull off my brand-new nightgown, hurt to raise my arms, hurt to move my legs. In fact, every move I made hurt my skin. How had I managed to sleep so soundly? Fatigue so deep even pain didn't reach me? But the night had delivered not so much rest as seething bad dreams about Tom, Keith, and Our Jane, leaving unpleasant impressions to trouble my mind as first I used that pink seat, and hesitated before flushing it. Next I set about frantically trying to untangle the impossible mess of my hair.

  Through the thin walls that separated the bath from the bedroom drifted Kitty's grunts and groans, as if the new day gave Kitty immediate problems. ". . Where t'hell are my bedroom slippers? Where t'hell is that dumb kid? She'd betta not use all t'hot water-- she'd betta not!"

  Cal's calm, soft voice consoled Kitty as if she were a small child and had to be indulged. "You go easy on her, Kitty," he cautioned. "You're the one who wanted her, you keep remembering that. Though why you insist on her sleeping in our bed is beyond comprehension. A girl her age needs her own room, to decorate, to dream in, to keep her secrets."

  "Ain't gonna be no secrets!" fired Kitty.

  He continued as if she hadn't spoken, and my hopes rallied. "I was against this from the first. Still, I feel sorry for her. Especially after what you did last night. And when I think of that pitiful cabin, all those attempts to make it cozy, I realize how blessed we are to have what we do. Kitty, even if you don't want to move out your pottery wheel and all the other junk, we could manage to put a twin bed in our second bedroom, and a nice dresser. A bedside table and a lamp, and maybe a desk where she could do her homework. C'mon, Kitty. . . what do you say?"

  "I say NO!"

  "Honey, she appears to be a nice girl, very sweet."

  He was trying to persuade her, maybe with kisses and hugs. Why, from the noises they made, I could almost see what he was doing.

  A slap! A hard hand striking soft flesh! "Ya thinks she's pretty, don't ya? Yer noticin already, huh? But ya kin't have her, ya keep rememberin that! I got patience, an I got tolerance, but don't ya go foolin around with no kid who's gonna be our daughta." How loud she yelled.

  "Don't you ever slap me again, Kitty," Cal said in a hard, cold voice. "I put up with a lot from you, but I draw the line at physical violence. If you can't touch me with love and tenderness, don't touch me at all."

  "Honey, it didn't hurt, did it?"

  "That's not the issue, whether or not it hurt. The issue is, I don't like violent women, or ones that shout and raise their voices. And the walls are paper-thin. I'm sure Heaven thinks you treat her fine, just like a mother always treats a daughter she loves. Putting her to bed with her parents. She's a teenager, Kitty, not an infant."

  "Ya jus don't understand, do ya?" Kitty sounded more than grouchy. "I know how hill gals are; ya don't. Ya kin't begin to know t'evil stuff they do--an they don't need no man t' be there, neither. An if ya want peace in this house, ya'll let me do it my way."

  Not a word from Cal to defend me. Not a word about the boiling bath and all the damage it had done--why not? Why was he timid around Kitty when she was in the house, when he'd stood up to her in the car?

  The bedroom door opened. The slippy-slop of Kitty's feathered slippers sounded on the hall floor, coming this way. I panicked. Quickly I seized one of the faded old towels and swathed it about my sore body.

  Kitty came in without knocking, threw me a hard glance, then without a word whipped off her flimsy black nightgown, kicked off her pink slippers, and sat down naked on the toilet. I started to leave, but she ordered me back. "Do somethin fer yer head . . . it looks awful!" she said flatly.

  I bowed my head, trying not to see or hear anything. Diligently I worked with as much careful speed as my tangled hair would allow.

  Soon Kitty was in the shower, singing country tunes in a loud voice. All the time I kept trying to unsnarl my hair.

  Kitty came out of the shower, drying her body with a lush pink towel, scowling my way. "Neva wanta come in here agin an see what I just saw in that toilet--ya hear?"

  "I'm sorry. But I was afraid if I flushed it, it would awaken you and your husband. Tomorrow morning I'll use the downstairs bath."

  "Ya betta," mumbled Kitty. "Now ya hurry up an finish, then put on one of t'nice dresses Cal bought fer ya t'wear. This aftanoon, Cal an me's gonna show ya around, go t'Atlanta, let ya see my shop, how pretty it is, how much my girls love me. Tomorrow we'll go t'church, an Monday ya'll start school with all Vother kids yer age. Sacrificin my ceramic classes fer yer sake, ya keep that in mind. Could make plenty t'day, but won't, jus t'get ya started right."

  I again set diligently to work on my hair as Kitty made up her face and dressed all in pink. She picked at her bush of auburn hair with a funnylooking wire thing, then turned to beam at me. "What say?"

  "You look beautiful," I answered truthfully. "I never saw anyone so beautiful."

  Kitty's pale eyes glistened. Her smile spread to show large, even white teeth. "Neva guess, would ya, that I'm thirty-five?"

  "No," I breathed. Older than Sarah, imagine that, and Kitty looked so much younger.

  "Cal's only twenty-five, an that worries me some, bein ten years olds than my own husband. Caught me a fine man, I did, a real fine man, even if he is youngabut don't ya tell nobody my age, ya hear?"

  "They wouldn't believe me if I did."

  "Why, ain't that sweet of ya," Kitty said in a new and softer voice. She stepped closer to give me a quick hug, a swift kiss on my raw cheek. "Didn't really want t'make yer skin look so red an raw. Does it really hurt?"

  I nodded, and then Kitty was finding ointment to touch lightly on my face with great kindness. "Guess sometimes I overdo thins. Don't want ya t'hate me. Want more than anythin fer ya t'love me like ya would yer own mother. Honey, I'm sorry--but ya gotta admit, we done killed all t'bad stuff ya had clingin t'ya like moss on a rotten tree."

  She said everything I had been secretly praying to hear, and impulsively I hugged Kitty back, kissed her cheek very carefully so as not to spoil that perfect makeup job. "And you smell so good," I whispered tearfully, overcome with relief.

  "Ya an me are gonna get along fine, jus fine, we are, we are," enthused Kitty, smiling happily. Then, to show she meant right, she took the comb from my hand and began to work on my tangled hair. With gentleness and great adroitness she soon had my hair a smooth-flowing cascade. Next she picked up a brush she said I could use from now on, and she brushed and brushed, using it in mysterious ways. Dipping it in water, shaking off most, curling hair over her fingers . . . and when I again looked into the mirror, I saw a beautiful head of shining dark curling hair around a white patchwork face and two huge blue eyes.

  "Thank you," I whispered gratefully, loving Kitty for being kind, and more than willing to forget the torture of last night.

  "Okay. Now let's head fer t'kitchen an t'tour I promised ya. Gotta be quick about all of this. Got so much t'do."

  Together we descended the stairs. Cal was already in the kitchen. "I've got the coffee water boiling, and I'm fixing breakfast today," Cal said in a cheerful voice. He was busy frying bacon and eggs in separate skillets, so he couldn't turn his head. "Good morning, Heaven," he greeted, laying the bacon carefully on paper toweling, spooning hot grease over the sunny-side ups. "Do you like toast best, or English muffins? I'm an English muffin fan, especially with currant jelly or orange marmalade."

  It wasn't until we all sat down at the pretty round table to eat that he really saw me again. His eyes widened with pity to see my face, not even noticing how lovely my hair looked. "Good Lord in heaven, Kitty, it's an awful shame to take a pretty face and make it look like a clown. What the hell is that white stuff smeared all over her?"

  "Why, honey, it's t'same stuff ya woulda used."

  He appeared thwarted, disgusted, and turned to pick up the newspaper. "Please r
efrain from washing her face again, Kitty. Let her do it herself," he said from behind the newspaper, as if so angry he couldn't bear to look at Kitty.

  "She'll be all right agin, give her time," stated Kitty matter-of-factly, sitting down and picking up a section of the paper he'd laid aside. "Okay, Heaven, eat up. Got a lot t'do today, all of us. Gonna show ya t'time of yer life ain't we, honey?"

  "Yeah," he said gruffly, "but it would have been nicer for Heaven if she didn't have to be seen as she is."

  Despite my face, once I had the ointment wiped off I did have a wonderful time seeing Atlanta and the hotel where Kitty had her beauty salon, all decorated in pink, black, and gold, where rich ladies sat under slick white hoods banded in pink and gold, where eight pretty girls worked, and everyone there was a blonde.

  "Ain't they pretty, though, ain't they?" asked Kitty, looking so proud. "Jus love bright golden hair that looks sunny an cheerful . . . not dull silvery-blond hair that's hardly no color at all."

  I winced, knowing she was referring to my mother's hair.

  She introduced me to everyone, while Cal stayed out in the hotel lobby, as if Kitty didn't want him in here with all these girls.

  Then they took me shopping again. Already I was wearing a pretty new blue coat that Cal had chosen, and it fitted perfectly. Unhappily, all that Kitty selected for me--skirts, blouses, sweaters, underwear--she bought a size too large, and I hated the heavy, clumsy white saddle shoes she thought I should wear. Even the valley girls in Winnerrow wore better than those. I tried to tell Kitty this, but she had her own memories of what kind of shoes she'd worn. "Don't ya say anotha word! Kids don't wear fancy shoes t'school--they don't!"

  Yet, when we were again back in the car, I had to feel happy with so many new clothes, more than I'd had in all my life. Three pairs of shoes. Nicer ones to wear tomorrow when we went to church.

  We ate again in a fast-food place that seemed to disgust Cal. "Really, Kitty, you know I hate this kind of greasy junk."

  "Ya like t'throw good money around just t'show off. Me, I don't kerr what I eat if it's cheap enough."

  Cal didn't reply, only frowned and turned very quiet, letting Kitty do all the talking as he drove and she explained the sights. "This is t'school where ya'll be goin'," she said as Cal drove slowly past a huge red-brick building that was surrounded by several acres of lawn and playing fields. "Ya kin ride t'yellow buses on rainy days, but walk on sunny ones Cal darlin honey, did we buy her all she needs fer school?" she shouted.

  "Yes."

  "Why ya mad at me?"

  "I'm not deaf. You don't have to shout."

  She snuggled closer to him as I leaned back and tried not to see how she kissed him even as he drove through traffic. "Honey sweetheart, love ya, I do. Love ya so much it hurts."

  He cleared his throat. "Where is Heaven sleeping tonight?"

  "With us, honey--ain't I done tole ya how it is with hill girls?"

  "Yes . . . ya done tole me," he said with sarcasm, and then said no more, not even when we settled down that night so I could watch my first color television show. It was so thrilling it took my breath away. How beautiful all those colorful dancing girls, how little they wore, and then the scary movie came on, and Cal disappeared.

  I hadn't even noticed when he left. "That's what he does when he's mad," said Kitty, getting up to switch off the TV. "Goes t'hide in t'basement, an pretends t'work. We're goin up now. Ya'll take anotha bath, wash yer hair yerself, an I won't enta while yer in there." She paused and looked thoughtful. "Right now I gotta go down an do some sweet-talkin t'my man." She giggled, and headed toward the kitchen, leaving me to enjoy my bath in the pink tub.

  I hated to sleep again between Kitty and Cal. Hated the way she teased and tormented him, giving me the impression she didn't really love him half as much as he loved her. Did Kitty really hate men?

  Sunday I was up first again. On bare feet I padded down the stairs, hurried through the kitchen, hunted for the door to the basement, and found it in a small back hall. Once I was down there in the dimness, I searched and searched among all the clutter that Kitty didn't keep neat and clean, until I found my suitcase put high on a shelf over a workbench. Granny's shawls were neatly folded in a pile beside it. I climbed up on the bench to pull down the suitcase, wondering if Cal had opened it.

  Everything inside was exactly as I'd left it. I'd stuffed in six favorite books given to me by Miss Deale . . even a nursery-rhyme book that Keith and Our Jane had loved for me to read at bedtime. Tears filled my eyes just to see that book . . "Tell us a story, Hey-lee . . make it last, Hey-lee. Read it again, Heylee."

  I sat down at the workbench, pulled out a notepad, and began a letter to Logan. Quickly, with a high sense of peril all around, I scribbled out my desperate situation, how I needed to find Tom, Keith, and Our Jane, would he please do what he could to find out where Buck Henry lived? I gave him the Maryland license plate's first three numbers. When I finished the letter I gathered up a few other things, then hurried to the front door to see the address. I had to dash down to the corner to find the street name. When I was back in the door I'd left open, I felt a fool, for there were magazines neatly stacked with Kitty's name, and the address and zip-code number. I rifled through a small desk to find an envelope and stamps.

  Now all I had to do was find an opportunity to mail my first letter. Down in the basement my beautiful bride doll slept peacefully, awaiting that wonderful day when she and I, with Tom, Keith, and Our Jane, would head for Boston, leaving Fanny to enjoy herself in Winnerrow.

  I tiptoed up the stairs, then on toward the bathroom, my letter stashed under the corner of the hall rug. I closed the bathroom door behind me and breathed a sigh of relief. The letter to Logan was my highway to freedom.

  "Why, looky there, Cal, our lii gal is all dressed, ready fer church. So let's be on time fer a change."

  "You look very pretty this morning," said Cal, sweeping his eyes over my new dress, and my face that had lost its redness, and most of the swelling had gone down.

  "She'd look betta if she'd let me trim and shape that hair," said Kitty, eyeing me critically.

  "No, leave her hair alone. I hate hair so placed and perfect. She's like a wildflower."

  Kitty scowled and stared long and hard at Cal before she entered the kitchen and whipped breakfast together so fast I couldn't believe it would taste so good. Omelets. Why, I'd never known eggs could be so light and fluffy. Orange juice . . . oh, I prayed Our Jane, Keith, and Tom were drinking orange juice now, too. "Ya like my omelet?"

  "It's delicious, Mother. You really know how to cook."

  "I jus hope ya do," she said flatly.

  The church we attended was like nothing I'd seen before, a stone cathedral, tall, splendid, dark inside. "Is it Catholic?" I whispered to Cal as we were entering and Kitty was talking to a woman she knew.

  "Yes, but she's a Baptist," he whispered back. "Kitty is trying hard to find God and tries all religions at least once. Right now she's pretending to be Catholic. Next week we may be Jewish, or Methodist, and once we even went to a ceremony worshiping Allah. Don't say anything to make her feel foolish. The fact that she goes to church at all surprises me."

  I loved the dark interior of that cathedral with all its candles burning, with its niches and holy statues, and the priest up there in his long robes saying words I couldn't understand, and I imagined he spoke of God's love for mankind, not his desire to punish them. The songs they sang I'd never heard before, yet I tried to sing along, while Kitty just moved her lips and I heard not a sound. Cal did as I did.

  Before we could leave, Kitty had to visit the ladies' room, and that was when I ran to mail my letter to Logan. Cal watched me with a sad look. "Writing home already?" he asked when I returned. "I thought you liked it here."

  "I do. But I have to find out where Tom is, and Our Jane and Keith. Fanny will be okay with Reverend Wise, but I have to keep in touch with my family or else we'll grow apart, so it's better to start now. P
eople move about . . . I might never find them if I let too much time pass."

  Gently he tilted my face up toward his. "Would it be so awful if you just forgot your old family and accepted your new one?"

  Stinging tears filled my eyes. I blinked them away, or tried to. "Cal, I think you've been wonderful. . . and Kitty--I mean Mother--is trying. . . but I love Tom, Our Jane, and Keith . . . even Fanny. We're blood kin, and have suffered through so much together, and that ties us together in ways happiness doesn't."

  Compassion flickered through his light brown eyes. "Would you like me to help you find your brothers and sisters?"

  "Would you?"

  "I'll be happy to do what I can. You give me what information you have, and I'll do my best."

  "Do yer best what?" asked Kitty, looking hard at both of us. "What ya two whisperin about, huh?"

  "Doing my best to see that Heaven always stays happy in her new home, that's all," he said easily.

  She kept her frown as she strode toward their white car, and we again headed for a place to eat, more fast food that didn't waste good money. Now Cal wanted to see a movie, but Kitty didn't like movies. "Kin't stand sittin in t'dark with so many strangas," she complained. "An t'kid's gotta get up early so she kin start school tomorra."

  Just the word school made me happy. A bigcity school--what was that going to be like?

  More television watching that night, and for the third time I was put in the middle of their bed. This time Kitty put on a red nightgown edged with black lace. Cal didn't even glance her way. He slipped into the bed, snuggled up close to me. His strong arms embraced me tightly as he nestled his face in my hair. I felt terribly frightened. And surprised.

  "Get out t'bed!" yelled Kitty. "Won't have no kid seducin my man! Cal--take yer arm offa her!"