Child of Darkness Read online

  "You'll drink to anything," Wade muttered.

  Basil smirked and then looked at me.

  "Hey," he said, "let the kid have some wine. She looks old enough."

  "We're supposed to be setting a good example for her," Wade complained.

  "Well, that's what we're doing." Basil laughed. "We're showing her how to dine properly, right, Anti?" "Yes, we are," she sang.

  "Mrs. Cookie, another wineglass, please," Basil ordered. She stepped into the room, took another wine-glass out of the cabinet, and put it down in front of me so hard, I thought it would shatter.

  "You drank wine at her age, didn't you, Mrs. Cookie?"

  "I drank a lot more than wine at her age," she replied.

  Basil and Ami both roared with laughter. I looked up at Mrs. Cukor. She stared a moment and then walked back into the kitchen.

  Wade shook his head and then dropped his eyes to the table and concentrated on eating his salad in silence. There is a war going on in this home, I thought. The bullets are only words, perhaps, and the only thing wounded might be pride, but nevertheless there was tension all around me, tension between Mrs. McAlister and Mrs. Cukor, tension between Wade and his ,father, even some tension between Wade and Ami, and now some-thing unspoken between Mrs. Cukor and me, something perhaps only I would notice. In the midst of all this Ami frolicked about as if nothing mattered but her own happiness, and nothing could disturb or prevent it. Was she someone to admire or to pity? I wondered.

  Basil continued to dominate the conversation at dinner. Perhaps because of me, he told story after story about his own teenage days.

  "I was never much of a student. Fact is, I never got my high school diploma," he said, making it sound like an accomplishment. "The real school is out there anyway," he bellowed, waving at the window. He had finished off an entire bottle of red wine himself and was working on a second bottle. Ami was flushed from the two glasses she had drunk. I had barely drunk half of mine, and Wade had one glass and then stopped drinking wine altogether.

  "Dad, please," Wade said softly.

  "What, please? What, am I saying something that ain't true? I put you through college and got you all the fine clothes you wore and your car. Not too shabby for someone who didn't graduate high school. Don't you forget it," he warned, his thick right thumb up and his long, thick right forefinger pointed at Wade like a pistol.

  "No one is saying anything bad about you. It's different today. Harder for young people to get those opportunities witlidia a good education."

  "Oh, right. Young people today. Poor unfortunate young people."

  He muttered something under his breath and went back to his food.

  Wade looked up at me with apology in his eyes. I smiled, but he looked away quickly, afraid his father might catch our exchange.

  Mrs. Cukor brought out the strawberry shortcake as if she was carrying poison to the table. She put it down as hard as she had put down my wineglass and then brought in the coffee. I thought it was delicious, and apparently so did Wade and his father. Ami didn't eat any, I noticed.

  In fact, she ate sparingly the whole time, leaving food on her plate. I wondered if she was doing it deliberately, as she had told me she did sometimes. I couldn't help but eat everything given to me. The food was wonderful, and I finally drank my wine and had a second glass. Was I being a pig?

  "You don't want to ever finish all the food on your plate," she whispered afterward. "Even if you're taken to an expensive restaurant. Only men finish everything. Some because they're paying for it and would eat sawdust if they paid for it."

  We all went into the living room, where Basil had an after-dinner drink, and then another. He made speeches about business today, politics, the school of hard knocks, and how easy we all had it compared to what he had to go through. Wade sat quietly listening, while Ami fidgeted. It was apparent that Basil was just talking and wasn't even aware if anyone was listening or not. Finally Ami suggested she and I be excused; I had experienced such a dramatic day, I was surely exhausted.

  I told Basil I was happy to have met him. He looked confused for a moment and then smiled and gave me a kiss on the cheek, a little too close to my lips, I thought. He kissed Ami good night as well and then turned back to Wade to continue his lecture. I looked at Wade as we left the room and felt sorry for him, a trapped audience.

  "I hate it when Basil gets that way," Ami said. "I couldn't wait to get out of there."

  I had started for the stairway when she seized my arm.

  "No, no, silly. We're not really going to go to bed this early. I just used that as an excuse. Come on," she said. "We're not wasting all the work we did to look this good on a dinner with the Emerson men."

  "What?"

  I didn't understand, but I let her pull me along, through the hallway, past the kitchen, to the door to the garage. She opened that door and told me to get into her red Jaguar sports car.

  "Where are we going?"

  "To burn some of that candle on both ends," she said, laughing.

  I got into the car, and she backed it out and drove quickly away from the house.

  "What about Wade?" I asked.

  "What about him? He'll have to help Basil to bed as usual, and then he'll go down to his office and work on his books until all hours of the morning," she explained.

  "Won't he be upset that we've left?" I asked.

  She looked at me without speaking and then turned back to the road.

  "No," she said finally. "Wade won't be a bit upset."

  I didn't want to ask, Why not? How much of their personal lives. should be my business the first day I moved in with them? I thought.

  "Where are we going?"

  "There is this really nice hotel only five miles away. They have a great lounge, a talented piano player. Don't worry. You look old enough, and I know the manager anyway. We won't have any trouble. How many times have you used a fake ID?" she asked, her eyes twinkling in expectation.

  "None," I said.

  "None? C'mon, Celeste. We're going to be like sisters. You don't have to worry about telling me anything, remember?"

  "I'm telling you the truth. I went to a party once where they had whiskey and beer, but I didn't drink any."

  She raised her eyebrows.

  "I thought girls who lived in orphanages were a lot looser than that."

  "They have a lot of rules, and I didn't want to disappoint Mother Higgins. She's always been very kind to me," I said.

  She looked at me askance again, and then she smiled.

  "You just haven't had the opportunity for fun yet. Now you will," she vowed.

  Somehow, it sounded more like a threat.

  We rode on. She turned up the radio and laughed.

  "Yes, my Celestial one, an opportunity for fun."

  The hotel she took us to was called the Stone House. It wasn't very big, and it actually looked more like a motel to me because of the way the rooms were spread out from either end of the main building. The main building had a fieldstone facing, an overhang under which we drove to the valet to park the car, and two large glass doors that opened to a tiled lobby. The walls inside the lobby were also faced in fieldstone, or perhaps imitation stone. I wasn't sure. There was lots of dark wood, beams and paneling. The reception desk was on the right, and behind it was a large aquarium filled with beautiful colored fish. The woman behind the counter recognized Ami immediately and smiled.

  "Good evening, Mrs. Emerson," she said.

  She looked to be about fifty, with very poor hair coloring that made her hair look too orange instead of blond.

  "Good evening, Mrs. Stone," Ami said.

  Mrs. Stone stared at her a moment and then smiled.

  "Oh, Mrs. Emerson. I didn't recognize you for a moment. You've done something new with your hair, the color."

  "Just a touch," Ami said, and I looked at her. What change had she made? Had she made it more auburn? More like mine? "Meet Celeste. She's come to live with us a while."

&nb
sp; "Hello, there," Mrs. Stone said. "Are you from a foreign country, an exchange student?"

  "She's not from a foreign country, but from the way she's been living, she might as well have been," Ami kidded. Mrs. Stone looked confused.

  I said hello, and then Ami turned me toward the entrance to the bar and restaurant. We could hear the music. The piano player was singing what I recognized to be an Elton John song.

  "She and her husband own the place. That's why it's called the Stone House, but people kid about it and say it's because everyone who comes here gets stoned," Ami told me.

  Unlike the owner, the maitre d' was able to recognize Ami, but made a comment about her hair as well.

  "I hope it's flattering," she told him, and he quickly said it was.

  "We'll just go to the bar tonight, Ray," she told him. He fixed his eyes on me suspiciously. "Don't worry. Everything is copacetic," she added.

  He nodded, but his smile indicated he didn't believe her.

  "I spend too much money here for anyone to give us any trouble," she whispered.

  At the bar she ordered herself something called a Cosmopolitan and then looked at me and told the bartender to make it two.

  "You'll like it. It sort of sneaks up on you. I hate those overpowering drinks. Don't look so nervous," she told me.

  "I can't help it. I've never sat at a bar before."

  "You really are so much of a virgin," she remarked, as if she hadn't believed the things I had told her about myself. "I think the first time I sat at a bar I was four-teen. It was at a dump, of course, but we were all very excited and drank some cheap gin that made us all sick. But it was fun," she added.

  How could that be fun? I wondered.

  The bar wasn't crowded, but two men at the far corner had been watching us from the moment we entered. Ami saw that, too, and to my surprise, she smiled at them. It was like putting up a welcome sign. They were off their stools and around the bar instantly. Neither was very good-looking, I thought. One looked like he cut his dirty blond hair himself. It was stringy and uneven. Although both wore sport jackets, they looked like they'd slept on them first.

  "Hi," the taller one with dark brown hair said. "You guys just arrive?"

  "Do we look like guys?" Ann immediately teased. The other one laughed through his nose and elbowed his friend.

  "Hardly," he said.

  The bartender brought our drinks.

  "Fancy drink," the shorter man said.

  "Yes, but we're used to fancy things," And told him. She sipped her drink and kept her eyes on him. I could see how it excited him. "We did just arrive," And continued. "We're on our way to Grandma's house. I hope you're not wolves. Remember Little Red Riding Hood?"

  They laughed.

  "Naw. We're more like tigers," the taller man said. "What's your names?"

  "I'm Laurie, and this is my sister Virginia. I take it you two are local fellas."

  "Oh, no. We're passing through ourselves." "And where are you heading?" And asked.

  I kept my eyes down and fingered the glass containing the Cosmopolitan.

  "Paterson, New Jersey. We got new jobs in a auto parts factory there."

  "Oh, how exciting," Ami said. She looked at me and winked. "I just love hearing about auto parts, don't you, Virginia?"

  I didn't say anything.

  "Care to dance?" the taller man asked And.

  She looked at the piano player, who was watching us as he played without singing.

  "A little too slow for me," And said.

  "Oh, you're the fast type, huh?"

  "I'm not a type," Ami said. "I'm indescribable," she added.

  Both men laughed.

  "Can we buy you another drink?" the shorter one said.

  "We haven't finished this one yet."

  "After that," he said, nodding.

  "We only have one drink a night," Ami said.

  "We like to keep our wits about us."

  "That's a waste," the taller man said.

  "No, you have it backward. We don't get wasted," she told him, and they laughed again.

  Why was she teasing them, flirting with them? "Mind if we sit next to you? I'm Steve Toomer, and this is my friend, Gerry Bracken."

  And looked at me and then turned to them and said, "Well, we don't mind." He started to sit on the stool and then froze when Ami added, "But our husbands might. They'll be in soon, and you know how men can get jealous."

  "Oh, you're married," Steve said, his voice dripping with disappointment.

  Ami flashed her wedding and engagement rings. I didn't see how it was possible for them not to have noticed anyway, but I realized she might have been keeping it out of sight just so she could tease them.

  "Happily," she said.

  "What about you, Virginia?" Gerry asked me. "Where's your ring?"

  "She's allergic to gold. Makes her finger swell," Ami said.

  The two of them looked at us and then at each other. Steve's face turned sour, his eyes like dark darts.

  "You're going to get in trouble one of these days, fooling like this," Steve warned. "Husbands or no."

  "Life's more exciting when you live in the danger zone," Ami told him.

  He grunted, looked at his partner, and then nodded toward their comer of the bar.

  We watched them retreat, Steve holding his shoulders up as if he wanted to keep a cold wind from going down his back.

  "Why did you do that? They got very angry."

  "I like to test the waters. See if I still have what it takes," Ami told me. "Besides, I wanted to show you how to handle men like that. Just like I promised, I'm going to teach you a lot, Celeste, and I'm going to have fun in the process."

  Steve and Gerry left the bar after another ten minutes, but they paused near us.

  "Your husbands must be awful stupid, leaving you two out here so long," Steve said.

  "Oh, but they have so much trust and faith in us," she replied. "That's the kind of woman you need."

  "I don't need any woman," he growled, and walked out.

  Ami laughed.

  "See? Men are such boys. They're more gullible than women, and so much more vulnerable. As long as the woman knows what she's doing."

  We stayed nearly two hours before Ami decided we should go home. She had another Cosmopolitan, but I'd barely finished my first one. What I had drunk had made me dizzy already, and I was very tired.

  "It's been a full first day for you, but you've enjoyed every moment of it, haven't you?" she asked.

  "Yes," I said, even though I could have done without the flirtation at the bar. I couldn't help but wonder how Wade would feel if he had seen it.

  "You're not upset about what I did back there, are you?" she asked me.

  I shook my head, but not as firmly as she would have liked.

  "This is all so new to you." She looked really worried suddenly. "All that religion didn't get into you back at the orphanage, did it?"

  "I have my own beliefs," I said.

  "Good. I mean, I hope you're not a prude at heart."

  I said nothing. What was I? I had to wonder myself. She laughed, a little nervously.

  "Oh, you'll be fine," she decided. "We're going to have so much fun. It'll be the best time of your life," she promised. "On Monday I'll take you over to the school myself. You can go with Wade after that, and then talk him into a little car for you. I'll show him how it will be what he calls cost-efficient, and he'll agree."

  She laughed.

  "I can twist him around my little finger. You'll see."

  "When do you plan on having your baby?" I asked. I couldn't help but wonder how becoming a mother would change her.

  She looked at me as though I was asking a ridiculous question.

  "I mean, you'll be pregnant before I leave, won't you?"

  She smiled at me without speaking.

  "What?" I asked.

  "Really, Celeste, I would have hoped you had picked up on that by now. I have absolutely no intention of becomi
ng pregnant."

  "But . . . I thought you said . . . Mother Higgins said . . ."

  "Little lies. Like dust on a window. Just brush it away, and no one remembers it was there.

  "Or," she said after a pause, "cares."

  She turned up the radio and laughed.

  "Steve and Gerry," she said. "They were like putty in my hands. Soon I'll have you capable of doing the same thing to any man you want to do it to. You'll see."

  We drove on.

  "You'll be sorry you agreed to this," I heard what sounded like Noble whispering in my ear.

  I turned.

  But there was no one there.

  Not yet.

  6 A Dead Bird

  . Ami didn't seem the least bit worried about our being discovered entering the house this late. She didn't walk softly or whisper when we walked through the hallway. Perhaps the drinks had made her more flamboyant than she wanted to be. In fact, I thought she was talking very loudly.

  "Do you want anything before you go to bed?" she asked at the kitchen door. "Not that I know where any-thing is in there," she added, and laughed. "Matter of fact, except for my own things, I don't know where anything is in this house."

  The lights were dim, and there was no one in the kitchen, or anywhere downstairs for that matter. I didn't even know where Mrs. McAlister and Mrs. Cukor slept, but I imagined the door that came after the den-office led to downstairs bedrooms at the rear of the house. I was curious as to how those two slept near each other and what, if anything, they had to share. Probably a bathroom, I thought. Living in an orphanage most of my life, I knew what it was like not to get along with someone who was in your face so much. From what Ami had told me, and what Mrs. McAlister had said, she and Mrs. Cukor seemed to dislike each other intensely.

  "Mrs. McAlister has gone to bed long ago, of course," Ami said, "but if you want a glass of milk or something cold to drink, I'm sure we can find the refrigerator."

  "No, I'm fine, thank you." I was really too tired to even drink a glass of water.

  "You won't hear or see Mrs. Cukor moving about either. Once she goes into her room and locks her door behind her, she couldn't be roused even if the house was on fire. I don't know what she does in there. She has no television, and I've never heard a radio. Actually, I've never been in either of their rooms, not that I would ever want to be in them," she said as we walked to the stairway. Just as we reached it, the grandfather clock bonged to tell us it was one in the morning. I could see a light pouring into the hallway from under the den door.