Child of Darkness Read online

  "Ain't that right, And?" he asked.

  She looked like she had just been stung by a bee. She was flustered a moment, then quickly said, "Yes."

  "Yes," Basil repeated, nodding.

  Wade said nothing, but I could see from the way his neck tightened against the base of his head that he was furious. When we arrived at the house, we stopped next to Basil's car so he could get out before we went into the garage. I sensed it was Wade's way of making sure he left and didn't go into the house with us.

  Basil took my hands firmly into his and repeated his offer to teach me how to drive the next day.

  "I'll set up your driving test myself," he added. "See you after school."

  He leaned over and kissed me on the lips so quickly, I had no time to turn my cheek to him instead. He laughed at my surprise.

  Then he reached over and slapped Wade on the shoulder, rather sharply, I thought.

  "Get some sleep, Wade. You've got a big day at the plant tomorrow going over item by item, and I expect profits to go up this year, the way I'm spending money. Ami, my dear, sweet dreams," he said, throwing her a kiss.

  "Good night, Basil."

  He got out, went to his car, and drove off as we continued to the garage in silence.

  "I'm tired of apologizing for him," I heard Wade tell Ami as we headed down the hallway.

  "Then don't," she said, and walked ahead of him.

  "Good night, Celeste," Wade told me at the top of the stairway. He didn't look back. His shoulders slumped, and his head was down. I wished I could say something that might cheer him up, but all I said was, "Good night."

  He went to their bedroom. Arai stood beside me, watching him go, and then turned to me.

  "Don't be upset about Basil's offer, Celeste. He means what he says. He'll get you your own car. Let him teach you how to drive. You'll have your license in no time, and I know how important it is for you to feel independent. Just put up with him. He's really not that dangerous," she offered, "and he really likes feeling important. It never hurts to stroke the guy with the bank account. Never refuse a favor from Basil Emerson. That's my motto."

  She embraced me and kissed my cheek.

  "Everything will be better tomorrow. It always is," she said.

  Before I could say another word or ask a question, she went to her room and closed her door softly.

  I was happy to discover that my bed sheets had been changed, and the garlic odor was gone. Exhausted, I fell asleep almost the moment my head hit the pillow. As usual these days, it was Wade's phone call that woke me. I showered and dressed and hurried down to join him for breakfast. I was anxious to tell him I wouldn't let his father give me driving lessons if he didn't want him to, but that wasn't the way Wade presented it.

  "I said last night that I wasn't going to apologize for my father anymore, but I am. I'm sorry he was so obnoxious last night. I can stop him from coming over here to give you driving lessons if you would rather he didn't," he offered.

  If I would rather? He would use me as the reason to keep his father from coming.

  "It's not important, Wade," I said. The last thing I wanted now was to be the cause of a rift between Wade and Basil, especially after what had happened with Trevor. I'd certainly feel like the one bringing the evil eye into their home, just as Mrs. Cukor predicted.

  "You sure you don't mind?"

  "I'm okay with it," I assured him.

  "I'd offer to do it myself, but I could only do it on weekends. Dad has all this free time on his hands," he muttered. "The truth is, he never ran the company as well as I'm running it."

  "It's all right," I said.

  "I suppose I should be happy he's doing something productive with his time. It keeps him out of my hair," he added. Then he looked up at me quickly and smiled.

  "He did teach me how to drive. He wasn't the most patient instructor, but we got through it. I'm sure he'll be nicer to you than he was to me. He was nicer to my sister."

  It was the first time he had ever made a reference to her, I thought. There were all sorts of questions on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them back.

  "If it's in the least bit unpleasant for you, don't hesitated to--"

  "I'll be fine," I said, more confidently.

  He nodded.

  "I'm sure you will."

  Ami didn't get up and come down before it was time for Wade and I to leave. As we drew closer to the school, I could see he was more nervous than I was about how the other students would treat me.

  "You let me know if the Foleys made up any stories about you," he told me. "Chris Foley knows his son was drinking, and it was entirely his fault. You'll let me know," he said again when we pulled into the school lot.

  "I'll be okay, Wade. Thanks," I told him.

  When I entered my homeroom, I saw from the looks on their faces that the other students were chatting about me and Trevor. Lynette Firestone pouted, and Germaine Osterhout gloated.

  "I guess you knocked Trevor off his feet," Waverly quipped. "By the time he left you, he was too dizzy to navigate."

  The boys laughed licentiously, and the girls looked at me with glee lighting up their eyes.

  "If you had confided in me, I could have helped you back there," Lynette told me after the bell had rung and we were off to our first class.

  "Help me with what?" I asked her.

  After what I had been through in my life, being the object of some juvenile humor was hardly worth a second thought. It was easy to ignore them, to look right though them and let their words bounce off my ears.

  "They'll ruin your reputation," Lynette said, "and don't expect Trevor Foley to come to your aid later on. You'll see. They all stick together!'

  Maybe they do, I thought, but what was so important about it anyway? Suddenly my time here, living with the Emersons, going to this rich school, didn't seem as desirable as I had hoped it would be. I used to sit in the orphanage and dream about turning eighteen and being on my own. I was like someone who was serving a prison sentence and counting the days to freedom. This life now was supposed to be the start of that freedom--look at all that had been lavished upon me already--but in ways I could never have imagined, I felt even more incarcerated than I had been at the orphanage.

  Was this my destiny, always to be under some form of lock and key, always to be in invisible chains? When would I be free? When would I truly be able to breathe?

  Ami was there at the end of the school day, naturally full of questions about how the other students had treated me.

  "I'm sorry I didn't get up in time to speak to you before you left for school today. I wanted to warn you how catty some of these girls can be. What sort of mean things did they say? Did Lynette help you? Have they begun to spin nasty rumors about you?" "I ignored them," I said.

  "Well, what did they say?" she asked. She had to know the details.

  "I really don't know, Ami. I didn't listen."

  "But--"

  "I just walked away from their smug smiles and whispers and concentrated on my lessons. I had a surprise quiz in math, and I have a project to complete in social studies, so I spent my lunch hour and free time in the library. Oh," I added, sounding as if I was going to describe an accomplishment, "Mrs. Grossbard doesn't think she has a place for me on the golf team. She evaluated my ability to drive and putt, and determined it wasn't my forte."

  I smiled to indicate how trivial I thought it all was. Ami's mouth opened and closed.

  "Well, that's . . . how . . . I'll speak to Mrs. Brentwood about that," she vowed.

  "I don't care. It's fine. I'm really not interested in being on the team. I do have an interesting assignment for the newspaper, however. I'm going to do all the book reviews. I've been made the book editor, in fact," I said.

  Her mouth drooped.

  She didn't have to say anything. Her eyes told me what she was thinking: boring.

  "Oh," she finally uttered. "If that's what you want to do. I mean, if that makes you happy here."
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  "It does," I said, and she nodded.

  When we turned down the street toward the house, she slowed and to my surprise pulled behind a parked Mercedes sports car.

  "Basil is waiting for you," she said, nodding at the car.

  I leaned forward and saw him step out and wave. "The driving lessons, remember? I went ahead and canceled the driving instructor."

  "Oh, yes," I said, a ball of nervousness tumbling in my stomach and growing bigger with ever roll.

  "Go on," she urged. "And be nice to him. You need someone who can do you favors, Celeste, even more than I do," she added with a note of sadness. "I'll take your books up to your room."

  She leaned out her window to wave back at Basil. "C'mon, Celeste," he urged, ignoring her. "We've got a lot to do."

  I got out of the car and started toward him. He was wearing a tight knit sweater and jeans and did look handsome, his hair blown into a free-flowing style. He smiled and reached out for me. I took his hand, and he opened the driver's door a bit more so I could slip right behind the steering wheel.

  "Let's first see how you do and what that driving expert taught you," he said.

  He closed the door and started around the car. Ami remained behind us, watching. Basil barely looked her way. He got in beside me and closed the door.

  "Now this isn't a bad car to learn on," he said. "Handles like a baby, smooth and very receptive. It's a high-performance automobile, so go easy on the acceleration. Go on. Let's see what you were told to do first," he challenged, folding his arms and sitting back.

  I went through the steps I had been taught, adjusting the seat and the mirrors to make sure I had good views. I quickly studied the shift, the parking brake, and the signal lever. Then I put on my seat belt.

  "You look good behind that wheel, Celeste," he said. "You look like you belong in a car like this. You know how much it cost?"

  I shook my head.

  "It's over a hundred thousand dollars," he said. "I'm thinking of getting a new one. Maybe I'll just give this one to you to use, so don't get us into a wreck," he added, laughing.

  Was he serious? Just like that, he'd give me a car this expensive to use?

  "C'mon, get the engine started. Let's get moving." He looked back at Ami, who was still parked behind us. I saw his eyes narrow with displeasure.

  "What the hell is she waiting for? Let's go," he ordered more firmly.

  I started the car, checked my mirror, made my hand signal, and shifted to drive. He was right about the car's sensitivity compared to the far cheaper vehicle the driving instructor used. We lunged forward so fast and hard, I hit the brake.

  Basil laughed as we jerked forward and back. "Sorry," I said.

  "Don't worry. You'll get used to it quickly," he promised.

  Gingerly this time, I accelerated, and we pulled onto the road. He moved closer to me, putting his left arm around the back of my seat. I could smell his rich cologne and aftershave as it flowed over my face.

  "Steady," he said. "Just keep her steady and keep aware of everyone around you. I always check the rearview to see how close the idiot behind me gets. People tailgate like crazy these days," he warned. "Driving is defensive nowadays. You just have to keep anticipating the other guy will do something stupid, and most of the time, he does."

  My pounding heart slowed down as we cruised along. It was a wonderful car to drive, and I was comfortable in the seat. He told me where to turn.

  "You're doing just fine," he said. "I'm impressed. This is going to be a piece of cake. I might not even need a favor at the motor vehicle bureau," he remarked.

  I said thank you, but never took my eyes off the road, even though I felt his on me all the time. Once in a while his fingers grazed the back of my neck or my hair, and that would send a chill down my spine because I was afraid the touch would last longer or go down my neck to my shoulders.

  We practiced parking. To my surprise, he wasn't a bad driving instructor. He had a mechanic's understanding of everything, angles, speed, exactly how to turn the wheel enough, and when to stop.

  "That's perfect," he told me after my fourth attempt at a parallel park. "Again. By the time I'm finished with you, you'll be able to do it with your eyes closed."

  I did gain confidence with him, and by the end of my lesson, I felt quite at ease. He laughed about it.

  "Hell, I might make you my chauffeur," he said, and I smiled for the first time.

  "Thank you."

  "No problem. Actually, I enjoyed myself, watching you. You know, I taught my wife how to drive. Wade doesn't even know that, but it's true. You remind me of her in some ways," he said. "Especially the way you concentrate, get those eyes of yours fixed on something. I used to tell her she could drill holes with her looks."

  We drove through the opened gates and up to the house.

  "Why don't you want to live here all the time?" I asked him.

  "Too many memories for me," he said. "Besides, it's a house for a family, not a widower. I expect a family here, kids running all over the place, Emersons. I want a grandson before I'm too old to teach him how to drive too," he added, and I thought about Ami and her hesitation about getting pregnant. I wondered if he had any idea.

  "I'll come in for a while," he said when we parked. "I need a drink. Not that your driving did it," he added quickly. "I just have a drink about now every day."

  As soon as we entered the house, Wade came out of the living room to greet us. Worried, he searched my face quickly to see what it would tell.

  "She's damn good!" Basil bellowed. "The poor unfortunate can drive better than you, Wade, and after only a few lessons."

  "Stop saying that, Dad. I never called her that."

  "Stop saying that, Dad," Basil mimicked, and laughed as he brushed past Wade to go to the bar.

  "Was it all right?" Wade asked me quickly.

  "Yes, it was. He's a good teacher," I said.

  Wade looked skeptical a moment.

  "Where's Ami?" I asked.

  "She had a headache and went to take a nap. She gets migraines occasionally. She'll be all right, but she might not come down to dinner."

  "Oh, I didn't know."

  "It's all right."

  "What the hell you doing out there, Wade? Come on in here and tell me how much money I made today," Basil shouted from the doorway.

  "I got to get onto my homework," I said. "Thanks again, Mr. Emerson," I called.

  "Don't call me Mr. Emerson. Call him Mr. Emerson. I'm Basil," he shouted back at me.

  I shook my head, glanced at Wade, who smirked, and then hurried up the stairway.

  The phone rang almost as soon as I entered. I thought it might be Waverly again, teasing me, but it was Trevor.

  "I've been calling you all afternoon," he said. "Where have you been? Don't tell me you found a new guy already."

  "Driving lessons," I said.

  "Oh yeah. I was afraid your phone had been disconnected or something."

  "How are you?"

  "Better, but you won't believe this cast. I look like something from a horror movie. It's not easy to sleep with it, either. Glad you're taking driving lessons. I won't be driving for some time, and I'll need a ride home, so get your license soon:'

  I didn't say anything. The very idea seemed so remote a possibility to me, it was like talking about a trip to the moon.

  "Aren't your parents upset about what happened?"

  "Yeah, but they get over things quickly," he said. "My father gave me one of his fast-food lectures, abbreviated into five minutes with his usual lead-off, 'I was young once too, so I know what you're going through.' Why is it they always think we're carbon copies or just walking along a trail they've carved?" he wondered aloud. "Your parents like that?"

  I almost said I couldn't remember, but caught the truth before it had a chance to find its way to my tongue and sent it reeling back.

  "Yes," I said.

  "I heard you took a lot of ribbing at school. Waverly's being Waverly.
"

  "It didn't bother me."

  "Good. Because I'm coming to school tomorrow. Of course, I can't take any notes or take any tests for a while, but I have you to take notes for me." He was silent because I was silent, and then he asked, "Are you mad at me?"

  "I'm mad at myself," I said.

  "Good, because I couldn't stand you being mad at me. You're the first one I want to sign my cast, so think of something great to write, like, 'No pain, no gain.' He laughed. "Okay?"

  "I don't know," I said. "I have to hang up. I have to get to my homework."

  "Okay, sleep tight in that great bed of yours, and don't think this cast will keep me from chasing after you," he vowed, and laughed again.

  "I'll see you tomorrow," I offered. "Bye."

  "Hey?"

  "What?"

  "We'll get over this. Don't worry about it."

  "I'm not," I said.

  I didn't mean to sound so casual about it, but how could I explain that I had been through far more traumatic events in my life, and when I was far younger and less equipped to handle them, too?

  "Well, at least worry a little," he urged. "It makes me feel more important to you. I am important to you, aren't I?" he pursued.

  "Yes, Trevor, but all this happened so quickly after I moved in here. You have to understand what I'm going through, too."

  "Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry. I'll go easy. Whatever it takes," he said. "I mean it."

  "Thanks," I said. "See you tomorrow."

  "Tomorrow," he replied, and we hung up.

  Never had tomorrow felt so ominous to me. Would it bring on more trouble or less if Trevor and I were together all the time at school? Ami would know for sure. What was I to do? Talk about migraines-- my head was spinning. I made the mistake of lying down and closing my eyes. Minutes later, I fell asleep and didn't wake up until I felt myself being nudged.

  Ami stood looking down at me. Her face was filled with concern. She was in her robe.

  "What's wrong with you? Why are you sleeping? Wade called up to me to tell me you hadn't come down to dinner, and you didn't answer your phone when he called."