when you came to my room in the middle of the
night," I snapped. I no longer felt any compassion for
him. He had to bear responsibility for what he was doing, and one way or another, I was determined to
leave the house today.
"What? You had another dream? You poor
child. What you are going through." He shook his
head, pressing his lips together like a concerned
grandfather. "Oh well,, once we get something
substantial in your stomach--"
"I want my wheelchair. I'm going downstairs to
the phone,"
"Wheelchair? Oh no, Annie, not today. You
need at least one day's complete rest after what you've
gone through. Ill bring your breakfast to you in bed
today. Won't that be nice?"
"I WANT MY WHEELCHAIR!" I demanded
in the strongest voice I had ever turned on him. He
stared at me a moment and then started to walk away
as if he didn't hear me.
"TONY!"
He didn't turn back, and this time when he left
my room, he closed the door.
"YOU CAN'T KEEP ME LIKE A
PRISONER!" I got myself into a sitting position and
slowly brought my legs over the side of the bed. I did
feel weak and tired, but my determination was strong.
I would leave the room, even if I had to crawl out. I had to get help, get to Rye. I was sure he would help
me.
I started to lower my feet toward the floor when
Tony came bursting back in again, carrying my breakfast tray.
"Oh no, Annie. You want to sit up with your
back to the headboard so I can put the bed table over
your legs."
He put the tray down on the night table and
took hold of my upper arms, pushing me back and
turning me. My feeble resistance had no effect. "Please," I cried. "Please. Let me up." "After you eat and rest, I'll see how you are,
Annie. That's a promise." He smiled as though we
were the best of friends and began to set up my bed
table. Then he put my breakfast tray on it and stepped
back, the corners of his mouth drawn up in a clownish
grin.
He was mad, I thought. Something had
definitely snapped in him last night. There was no
point in trying to reach him.
I gazed down at the tray. There was a glass of
orange juice and some hot oatmeal with what looked
to be honey spread over it. There was the usual dry
toast and a glass of low-fat milk. Rye hadn't prepared this breakfast. Tony must have gotten up early and done it all himself. With him standing over me as he was, I thought I might just as well eat and get some energy in my body. I drank the juice and spooned in some of the oatmeal. The toast tasted like a piece of cardboard, but I washed it down with gulps of milk.
He nodded, his face locked in a maddening smile. After I finished and sat back, he lifted the tray
and then removed the table.
"There now," he said, "that should make you
feel so much better. It does, doesn't it? Now, do you
want me to rub in some body oils?" he asked. "No," I said as emphatically as I could. "No? You mean no because you feel much
better?" "Yes," I said through my tears. "Please,
please, get e my wheelchair."
"After your morning nap, we'll see," he said. He
went to the dresser and took out a new red nightgown,
another of the ones he had brought to me at the
Boston Me orial Hospital. "You should put on a fresh
nightgown. I think this one suits you, don't you? I
always liked scarlet on you." He brought it to the bed.
I sat there with the covers pulled tightly to my neck.
"Come on, now. A fresh nightgown will make you
feel so much better."
I didn't think he would leave me alone until I
had put on the red gown, so I took it from him. He
stood back to watch me take off the one I was wearing
and slip this one over my body. I did it all as quickly
as I could.
"Now, doesn't that feel good?"
"Yes," I said, giving him what he wanted. I was
even more frightened because instead of feeling
awake and energetic as I had hoped I would feel after
eating the breakfast, I felt drowsy and tired again. His
voice sounded faraway.
"I want . . want . .
"You want to sleep. I know. I expected it. A
nice rest." He pulled the blanket up and around me,
tucking it in tightly like a straightjacket.
"No . 1.. ."
"Sleep, Annie. Sleep, and you will feel so much
better when I return. All those ridiculous nightmares
will be gone when you wake up again."
I tried to speak, but I couldn't form the words.
My lips felt sewn shut. In moments I was asleep
again, my last conscious thought being he had put a
sedative in the breakfast.
The next time I awoke, I was very disoriented. I
had no idea what time of day it was. Slowly, in what seemed more like hours than minutes, I managed to get the tightly tucked blanket off me and pulled myself up on the pillow. I lay back, breathing hard,
my heart racing.
I saw that it was nearly twelve. My bedroom
door was still shut, but the windows were open and a
cool, refreshing sea breeze drifted in. I turned to it,
longing to get myself outside again, and suddenly,
very faintly at first, but stronger and stronger as I
focused on it, I heard a familiar voice. It came from
below . . . at the front of the house.
"Luke!"
I heard Tony's voice as well.
Concentrating as hard as I could and directing
all my strength into my legs, I swung myself over the
side of the bed, but my legs gave me no support.
Whatever vitality had been reborn in them was gone.
Something Tony had given me sent my renewed vigor
back into hibernation.
"Luke!" I screamed. My voice echoed in the
empty room, the sound shut up with me. I let myself
fall to the floor, collapsing like a dress that had
slipped off a hanger in a closet. I twisted myself
around and began a slow struggle toward the window,
pulling and tugging the best I could, encouraged by the continued sounds of Luke's voice. I began to make
out some words.
"But she insisted I come," he pleaded. "She's not ready for visitors."
"Why did she call?"
"She didn't; she couldn't have. It must have
been a mistake."
"I've driven all this way. Couldn't I see her for
just a few moments?" he implored.
"The doctors advise against it."
"Why?"
"Young man, I don't have all day to spend
explaining medical procedures to you. It's time for
Annie's therapy session, anyway, and she can't have
visitors during that time."
"All right, I'll wait out here."
"You are stubborn."
I was only a foot or so from the windowsill. I
pressed down to lift my body and reached up as
quickly as I could to take hold of it, but I missed and
fell forward, smacking my head against the wall. For a
moment I was too stunned to do anything but lay
there.
"All right, leave, but will you t
ell her I came?" Resignation sounded in his voice.
"Of course."
"No," I muttered. "No . . . no . ."
I reached up again, this time getting hold of the
sill, and pulled myself toward the open window. "Thank you."
I heard the front door close. He was leaving;
Luke was leaving! Tony had driven him away! My
hope! Luke . . I was on my knees, and using both
hands, pulled myself up until my face was level with
the window.
"LUKE!" I screamed with all my might.
"LUKE! DON'T GO. LUKE, COME UP AND GET
ME. LUKE . . ." I screamed and screamed until my
face felt it would burst from the effort and my arms
weakened too much to hold me up. Just before I fell
back to the floor, I thought I caught a glimpse of Troy
standing at the edge of the maze, looking up. But
maybe it was something I had only wished to see. I lay there, the side of my face to the carpet, my
body crunched up, crying and moaning for Luke. It
was the way Tony found me.
"Oh, poor Annie," he said. "You fell out of bed.
I just knew something like this might happen. It's my
fault. I should have fastened the side guards to the
bed."
"YOU MONSTER!" I screamed. "How could
you send him away? You know how long I have been
waiting for him to visit me. You know how important
it is to me. How could you do it? How could you be
so cruel? I don't care what's wrong with you or how
sad and tragic your life has been. That was vicious,
terribly vicious! I hate you for this! Go get him. Make
him come back. MAKE HIM COME BACK!" He ignored my outburst as if I were the t ad one
and he the sane one.
My body shuddered with sobs as he put his
hands under my arms and lifted me from the floor. He
carried me back to the bed and got te under the
blanket, tucking it tightly around me once more. Then
he stepped back to catch his breath.
"You shouldn't do this to yourself, Annie.
You'll only make yourself sicker and sicker. Try to
rest. You know I want only the best for you, only the
best for my little Annie."
"I'm not your little Annie. I want Luke to come
back," I muttered. "Luke will be back . . . he'll be
back."
"Of course. You'll get better and he'll return. If
you'll only listen to me, have you up and around
before you know it. Now, what was I thinking about?
Oh yes, the side guards for the bed."
He went off and returned with them. I lay there
helplessly as he fastened them to the bed and pulled
them up, caging me like some poor animal.
"There. Now we needn't worry about your
falling out of bed again. Feeling safe?"
I turned away, closed my eyes and waited for
him to leave the room. After I saw he was gone, I
closed my eyes again and imagined I was on the
gazebo in Winnerrow. I wished and wished and
wished. Oh, Luke, be there for me. Hear me across
distance and time and understand how terrible this is
and how much I need you to take me from here. Farthy is not the paradise, the magic castle we
thought it would be. It is a terrible prison, dark and
dangerous and full of twisted despair. I should have
listened to my mother . . . she knew . . . she knew. At first I thought I was still dreaming because
when I opened my eyes, I heard the voices. I glanced
at the clock and saw that it was nearly seven P.M. I
had slept through the day. The voices grew louder.
They were coming down the corridor toward my suite. Moments later my bedroom door was thrust
open and standing there before me were my aunt
Fanny and . . . thank God . . . Luke.
"Why, she looks like a baby in a crib," Fanny
drawled in her shrill voice. "And look, jist look at that
. . . her hair is a different color. It's like Heaven's hair
useta be."
"Annie!"
I lifted my hand and Luke rushed to the bed to
reach over the side guards to grasp it. As soon as our
fingers touched, I began to cry.
"Don't cry, Annie. We're here."
They were here, really here? I feasted my eyes
on them the way someone lost on a deserted island
might feast her eyes on her rescuers, half in disbelief,
half in overwhelming joy. It was as if a wonderful
light had come into this dreary suite, as if bars had
been lifted from windows and locks unfastened. My
Winnerrow world came rushing through the door,
flooding me with a torrent of memories and wonderful
feelings. Nightmares retreated. I could escape this
madness. My heart burst with joy. Luke hadn't
forgotten me, hadn't deserted me. He had heard my
call. Our love was so strong it would overwhelm
everything in its way. Instantly, I felt my strength
return. I was like a flower that had been shut up in a
dark corner and never watered. Just before it wilted
forever, the prison had been torn away, the light had been permitted to caress it, and loving rain had revived it. It would bloom again. I would bloom
again. Luke and I would be together once more. "Oh, Luke, please . . take me home."
"We will, Annie."
Tony rushed up behind Aunt Fanny.
"Are you satisfied now? Can't you see how sick
she is?" he screamed.
"No, Luke. No. I'm not sick . . , he's making me
sick. He pats medicine in my food that makes me
weak. Don't believe him."
"Jist as I thought . jist as that man said." Aunt
Fanny drew closer to my bed, her face creased with
concern.
"What man, Luke?"
"Some man called my mother and told her to
get me and get over here as soon as possible to get
you out and home."
"Troy!" I exclaimed. Who else could it be?
"What's that?" Luke questioned.
"Nothing . . . thank God you came back." "We'll git ya outta here in a jiffy, Annie honey." "You can't take her out of here without .talking
to the doctor. She's an invalid; she needs special care,
special medicine." Tony was red as a beet, agitated and grasping for control. His eyes were big and his hair on end. He looked like someone who had just
gone through a terrible electric shock.
"Don't listen to him, Aunt Fanny," I pleaded.
"You could give her a terrible relapse . maybe even
cause her death."
Aunt Fanny turned slowly and lowered her
hands to her hips. Her shoulders rose. She looked like
a hawk about to pounce on a mouse.
"Seems ta me yer the one who might give this
child a relapse. Look at her. She's pale and peaked,
shut up in this"--she sniffed--"sickly-sweet smellin'
tomb. This place is jist what I thought it would be." "I'm going to . . . to call the doctor."
"Call him. What kinda doctor is he anyway?
Look at what this place looks like. What's he, blind or
stupid or jist not as smart as these fancy doctors claim
ta be? How could he leave ma niece in this place? It's
a big dump. Smells damp and rotten."
"I won't stand here and take this kind of abuse,"
Tony asserted, his Tatterton pride and arrogance
glowing in his face. He left the suite, but I didn't
expect he would go far away.
Aunt Fanny turned her attention back to me. "Don'cha worry none now, Annie. Ya goin' home with us. Luke, lower them there bars so she kin get herself off the bed. I'll find a suitcase and round up
her things."
"What's mine is on the right side of that closet,
Aunt Fanny. It's not much. The suitcase is on the floor
there."
Luke squeezed my hand. "I'm so glad to see
you." "You can't imagine how glad I am to see you,
Luke. Why didn't you come before this?"
"I tried. I called Tony Tatterton and he kept
putting me off, telling me the doctor didn't want you
to have visitors."
"And Drake?"
"Drake said the same things. They wanted me
to wait awhile longer."
"Even after you received my letter?"
"Letter? I didn't receive any letter, Annie." "He never sent it. I should have known. All that
stuff about your tests and fraternities and friends .
girlfriends." I felt so terrible -now, so guilty for suspecting Luke of changing into someone selfish and
conceited. How could I have doubted him? I should
have known. I had been a prisoner here from the start,
and from the start Tony had deceived me. It made me
feel sick to know he had lied to me in such an ugly
way. "What girlfriends?"
"Are ya two goin' ta jist keep on jawin' or are
we goin' home ta Winnerrow?"
"We're going home, Ma."
"Then do as I say and get them bars lowered." Luke lowered the side bars while Aunt Fanny
packed my things and put out clothes for me to wear. "Ya go on down with this suitcase, Luke, while
I get Annie dressed."
"Please bring my wheelchair back, Luke.
There's one up here and one downstairs."
"And don't stop fer nothin' or no one nuttier,"
Fanny commanded.
"Right, boss," Luke said and gave Aunt Fanny a
mock salute. It felt so good to smile and laugh again. "Oh, go on wit' ya. Ever see such a boy , s'cuse
me, young man?"
"He's a wonderful young man. Oh, Aunt Fanny.
I'm so glad you came. I never was so happy to see
you."
"Betcha was. Don't talk about it all now. Let's
git on outta here. What do I hafta do ta help?" "Yesterday 'rit would have done it all myself,
Aunt Fanny, but Fin feeling tired and weak, so just give me a hand with my undergarments. I promise, I'm not going to be a burden to you back at
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