Gates of Paradise

by V. C. Andrews

  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