Eye of the Storm (24 page)

As I moved down the hallway, however. I noted that the door to Grandmother Hudson's bedroom was wide open. Since it was closer. I decided to ao for the phone there. After all, why would she have had that disconnected? Somehow it seemed right for me to make my desperate call for help from Grandmother Hudson's bedroom. Spiritually, she would be beside me as she had been when I needed her the most. I thought.
I turned into it and pulled myself up enough to flip on the lights.
What struck me first was the heavy scent of Grandmother Hudson's perfume. An aroma could linger, but certainly not as long as this nor as redolent as this. It seemed to have just been sprayed. Perhaps Aunt Victoria had used some on herself. I thought. but I didn't recall the scent downstairs when she spoke to me nor did it timer in the hallway, trailing behind her as she left. It surely would have.
Grandmother Hudson's phone was an antique, one of those brass telephones with the biz receivers and mouthpieces. It was situated on her nightstand to the right of her bed. I decided I would use the side board of the bed as a brace and lift myself up and onto the bed. From there I would have an easy time using the phone.
I did it in two smooth motions, smiling to myself at how proud Austin would be if he saw me. With a final burst of strength. I lifted my body onto the bed and flopped backward to fall on the pillow.
Only. I didn't fall on the pillow. My cheek rested against strands of hair instead. It was so unexpected, I froze for a moment and then slowly, I turned and immediately screamed such a shrill, long scream, it rattled every bone in my own body.
A wig the shade of Grandmother Hudson's hair had been put on a mannequin's head and rested on a pillow. The sight of it simply took my breath away like some vacuum cleaner hose sucking it all out of my lungs.
My head spun and then suddenly, all went dark.

15
Prisoner of Madness
.
I
couldn't have been unconscious very long, but

during the time
I
had taken to get myself up the stairs and into Grandmother Hudson's room. Aunt Victoria had traveled through the tunnel of illusion she had created for herself. She had gone on what
I
believed was her fantasy date and returned.
I
opened my eyes to see her standing over me.

She smiled.
"I'm
not surprised to find you here. The moment
I
saw your wheelchair downstairs
I
knew that's what you had done.
'Of course, you want to be near her. Of course, you want to be here. How stupid of me not to have realized it from the start,'" she said.
I
lifted my upper body and glanced again at the wig and mannequin head.
"What is this?"
I
asked.
"Shh." she said. "She's asleep.
I
bet you're tired. too. What an effort it must have been to get yourself up here. We're all proud of you, proud that you finally decided to suffer a little pain and agony along with the rest of us."

"I
want to leave."
I
whined. "Please help me go. You can have everything, all of it. I'll sign any document you want, only get me out of this house tonight,"

"That's so silly," she chided me, "especially now that we're getting along so well."
"We're not getting along! Stop saying that!"
"Oh, you mustn't shout, Megan. You'll wake her," she added in a whisper.
"I'm not Megan, I'm Rain and you're ridiculous. You look absolutely ridiculous in that makeup and hair color. And there's no one to wake, Grandmother Hudson is gone. gone! Now you help me get up and out of this house or I'll report everything to my attorney. Understand?"
I
threatened.
She stared down at me and shook her head slowly.

What a terrible disappointment."
She turned away and started to leave.
"Don't you dare leave this room,"
I
screamed.

She turned back.
"Maybe after a night's rest, you'll have a better
attitude." she said. "Oh," she added, smiling. "I had a
perfectly wonderful evening with Grant."
"You weren't with Grant. You'll never be with
Grant!" I yelled as she closed the door slowly and
clicked off the light. "Aunt Victoria!"
Her heels clicked away.
I turned and fumbled for the phone, but when I
lifted it from the cradle. I heard only silence. There
was no dial tone. Why did she have this disconnected?
Did she imagine Grandmother Hudson was going to
use it?
Madness.
I'm drowning in her madness. I thought in a
panic.
I swept the phone off the night stand and it
banged and bounced on the floor.
Did I have the strength to start back
downstairs? And what would I do when I got there? I groaned and lowered my head to the pillow.
What had I done? I had separated myself from my
wheelchair, my only way to move myself about and I
had trapped myself even deeper in this pit, like
someone in a straitjacket, turning and twisting and in
doing so, making it tighter and tighter until I could
barely move.
.
I slept through the remainder of the night. The
moment I woke. I was overcome with the urge to
vomit. Wave after wave of nausea kept me from
lifting my head from the pillow. I took deep breaths
and tried to keep myself calm. What was happening to
me? Was it a result from my great physical exertion
yesterday? I still had dull throbbing all over my body. When I turned slightly to my left, my nipples
tingled and then I felt a slight aching in my breasts.
Why should that be? A terrifying hot fear shot up my
spine like mercury moving up a thermometer. I shook
my head to deny the possibility, however another
realization flashed across my brain. I hadn't thought
much about it because I had so many other physical
concerns these days-- but I had missed my period
weeks ago.
All of this hit me like a punch in the stomach
and I couldn't hold myself back any longer. I leaned
over the side of the bed and vomited. As I did I
screamed for Aunt Victoria: I screamed for anyone. I
thought I was dying on the spot. Every time I paused.
I screamed again and again. Finally, she came to my
door.
There was a radical change between what she
had looked like yesterday and what she looked like this morning. As if she had woken from a dream, stopped her sleepwalking or snapped out
of a coma, she was the more familiar Aunt Victoria again, at least in appearance. Dressed in one of her business suits, her hair brushed neatly, the makeup gone, including the lipstick, she stood in the doorway and stared in at me with a look of disgust emerging from within her bailey face like a bubble of air rising to the top of
some water.
That maddening mind of hers had slipped back
into the present I thought. I hoped.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"What am I doing? I'm sick," I said, "How
could you leave me like this?"
"You're disgusting." she said and marched
across the room to the bathroom where she plucked a
towel off the towel rack and came back to throw it
over the mess.
"You've got to call an ambulance and get me to
the hospital," I said.
She stared down at me and shook her head. "Everything has to be dramatic with vou,
doesn't it? Everything has to be an Academy Award
performance. You always have to be the center of
attention. Even today, even today you have to do
this." "What? Today? What are you saying?" Wasn't she back to being herself? How was I
ever to tell just looking at her? What was she talking
about now?
"You know this is a big day for me. I might
have put together the biggest deal our company ever
had. How proud Father will be. You're afraid I'll steal
your limelight, is that it?"
"Aunt Victoria, stop and look at me. It's Rain.
I'm ill. I think... I think I might be pregnant," I
admitted, expecting her to go into a tirade about
Austin, the fortune hunter, and how he had
deliberately made me pregnant to get to my money. She raised her head and squeezed her lips into
her cheeks. Her eyes seemed to darken and then
lighten as if some tiny bulbs behind them were turned
down and then up,
"Really?" she asked dryly, her voice devoid of
emotion or sympathy. "Why doesn't that surprise me.
I wonder? Why doesn't it surprise me that your own
personal pleasures were once again put before any
responsibility or any concern for your family and your
family's reputation? Why aren't I shocked, Megan?" "You're not listening to me. Please. listen," I pleaded. "I'm your niece, not your sister. It's very serious for me to be pregnant. I need medical attention. You've got to call for an ambulance and call
my doctors immediately."
I reached up for her hand and she pulled herself
back as if I was poison ivy.
"Oh stop it. You think you're the first girl to get
herself in trouble? What do you think will happen? Do
you think we can let the world know what a mess
you've made of yourself? You want me to call an
ambulance because you think you might be pregnant?
That's ridiculous. Even if you really are preriant, well
handle this just the way we handle all of your
mistakes. Megan, by ourselves, discreetly, without the
rest of the world knowing just how bad you art. "For now," she added. "a little suffering will do
you good. Perhaps it will help you to realize just how
selfish you've been and why you should think about
the rest of us next time you decide to throw caution to
the wind and indulge your own fantasies and
pleasures."
She turned away and marched toward the door.
"Wait!"
I
cried.
"What is it? I've got to go." she said turning, "I
have a very, very important meeting today. It could be worth millions eventually. Can you imagine," she asked, her eyes wide with excitement. "can you imagine that I. a woman, have taken Father's company
to heights even he couldn't imagine?
"Maybe now you'll appreciate me more. Maybe
now they both will."
She gazed at the floor.
"Try not to make any more mess, will you." She
closed the door nearly all the way,
"Wait! Don't leave me here!" I screamed when
she disappeared. "I'm not Megan!"
I
heard her
descending the stairs. "Come back here and look at
me! Listen to me! Aunt Victoria!'"
Moments later the front door opened and closed
below and she was gone. I was alone. The cramps
continued, my nausea returned and I threw up again
and again until I was too weak to lift my head from
the pillow.
Rest. I told myself. Stay calm and rest and in a
little while try to get yourself to the telephone in her
room.
I drifted in and out of sleep. I could sense that
things weren't going well with my bladder again. I
was wet and my cramping became more and more
severe. The waves of nausea moved into something else, something beyond. My body felt warmer and warmer and my mouth was suddenly so dry, I couldn't swallow. My tongue was a thick piece of sandpaper.
Shouting for help was painful.
The pain between my temples, over my
forehead became so
intense it brought tears to my
eyes. It felt like someone with a thumb and a
forefinger made of steel was squeezing and squeezing
me there. All I could do was moan and cry inside. I
had no idea about time. There wasn't a working clock
in the room. I know I drifted on and off for what had
to be hours, feeling myself grow warmer and warmer
until I thought I might set the very bed on fire, How I
wished I had just a sip of water.
The movement of sunlight away from the east
side of the house told me it was late afternoon.
Drifting in and out of sleep I thought I had heard
footsteps and the creak of the door being opened
farther. Sure enough. when I opened my eyes again. I
saw the door had been moved.
I tried to call. I thought I had shouted. but I'm
sure it was barely louder than a whisper. Finally, after
what must have been another hour or so, she came
into the room. She was no longer in her business suit,
but what I saw now was so weird. I thought
I
was
surely still locked in a dream.
Aunt Victoria seemed to float past me. She was
wearing only a thin negligee.
She was very slender and I could see her ribs
outlined under the skin. She turned and raised her
arms, holding them frozen in the air for a moment
before dropping them to turn herself again in a strange
dance. The smile on her face was so different.
It
looked more like a little girl's smile of joy.
She paused and looked at me as if she was
pleased.
"Oh. Megan. I'm so excited. I couldn't wait to
come in to tell you. Daddy loves me," she said.
"Daddy loves me more than he loves you."
She did a little spin again and drew closer to
me. My eyes felt locked, unable to turn an iota to the
right or to the left. Her face was mesmerizing. When
she spoke, she spoke in a little girl's voice.
"Daddy carried me up to bed. I had just finished
my cup of hot milk and he said I should go to sleep
now. I didn't want to. I wanted to stay up longer, but
he said I had to go to sleep or Mother would be angry.
She had left it up to him to take care of us tonight
while she was at her charity ball meeting and he had
better do it, he said, or he would get put in the
doghouse.
"'Do you want me to sleep in the doghouse?' he
asked me.
"Of course. I shook my head, my face frill of
terror at just the thought of my getting him into
trouble, and he laughed and looked at me with the
softest face I have ever seen him have, even softer
than when he looks at you. Yes, much softer," she
happily concluded with firm nods.
I couldn't speak. Her face was so close to mine
now that she frightened me and I was afraid of
interrupting. I could see the tiny freckles under her
eyelids and a light, small birthmark
otherwise hidden
under a corner of her nostril.
"Come along." he said and he reached out for
me. His hand is so big, isn't it? My hand looked
swallowed up when he closed his around it.
I
couldn't
see my fingers.
"'I
can't see my fingers. Daddy,'
I
said and he
laughed and said. 'Let's see if they're still there.' "He opened his hand and touched my palm with
his long, thick left finger and said. 'There they are.'
"I
laughed and Daddy smiled at me and then he
surprised me by pulling me closer and lifting me up as
if
I
was made of air.
''Here you go.' he said. 'Upstairs to bed and
don't go near Megan. She's got the measles and you
will certainly catch them,' he warned,
"He carried me all the way up to my room and
lowered me to my bed and then he caressed my face
and ran his hand over my shoulders and down my
chest to my stomach where he tickled me and made
me laugh,
"Daddy never did that to me before.
I
know he
did it to you, but never to me.
"Then he said.
'I
bet you're catching up to
Megan, aren't you? You're twelve. Girls catch up
when they're twelve. Let's see.'
he said and lifted my
nightie to see below, 'Yes, you are.' he said. 'I've got
two big girls now.'
"He made me feel good and kissed me on the
cheek and his face was so red and hot that it almost
burned mine when mine touched his.
"So he loves me." she concluded and did
another little turn. "Daddy loves me too."
She stopped and looked at me.
I
had no idea
what she was going to do next, but she lifted her hand
slowly toward me and touched my face.
"Cool," she said. "but not cool enough even
though your skin looks better today. Why, you almost look half alive, although you've lost weight, haven't
you? All your boyfriends will be upset, won't they?" She wiped her fingers on the bed as if she had
touched something slimy.
"I'm very sick."
I
whispered. "very sick."
"I
know, You feel terrible. It makes you feel
terrible, but you'll get better," she said, her eyes small.
''And then you'll be the pretty one again and Daddy
won't look at me as much."
She knelt beside my bed. Her smile became
vacuous, her eyes losing their light, flickering and
going pale and distant.
"I watch him when he's with you. I heard him
say you were so lovely you could bring love to
anything. I see the pleasure in his eves, the pride he
has, the pride of an artist who created something so
beautiful all the world would congratulate him." She paused and then looked at me angrily. "Why don't you stay sick a while longer? You
won't have to go to school and worry about tests and
homework. You'll continue to be waited on hand and
foot, just as you like it. Huh?"
I shook my head.
"I know what. I'll help you stay sick," she said. "Water," I pleaded in a whisper. I'm so thirsty.
Please get me some water."
Her eyes brightened.
"Water? You want a drink of water? That's
good. I'll get you a drink of water."
She rose and went into the bathroom. I waited
to hear the faucet running. Just the sound of water
would give me pleasure, I thought, but I didn't hear
that. Instead, I heard the toilet seat go up and then I
heard her dip a glass in it and return.
"Here you go," she said. "Just drink this." I
shook my head.
"Please," I muttered through my dried lips. It
was painful just to separate them.
"You said you were thirsty, didn't you?" she
nearly barked, her voice so gruff. "Drink some of this
water." She smiled, "Maybe it will keep you sick a
little longer," she said. "Drink it," she commanded. I shook my head and then she leaned over and
brought the glass to my mouth. I kept it closed as she
poured the toilet bowl water over it, letting it run
down the side of my chin and onto the bed and my
neck. She squeezed my jaw, my mouth opened a little
and some of the water got in. I coughed and spit. She
watched me a moment and then got up and returned
the glass to the bathroom.
I started to dry heave and did it so many times,
my stomach ached.