"I'm so sorry I'll never see her again on stage. She was so wonderfully light and graceful she seemed a part of the music. Your mother was born for dancing, Bart. I know she must feel lost and empty without it."
"No, she doesn't," I answered quickly. "Momma's got that typewriter and her book to work on all day and most of the night, and that's all she needs. She and Daddy lie in bed for hours and hours, especially when it rains, and they talk about some big old house in the mountains, and some big old grandmother who wore gray dresses all the time, and I hide in the closet and think it's just like some dumb fairy tale."
She appeared shocked. "Do you spy on your parents? That's not very nice, Bart. Adults need privacy-- everyone needs privacy."
I smiled and felt good to tell her I spied on everyone--even her sometimes.
Her blue eyes grew wider and she stared at me for a long time before she smiled. "You're teasing me, aren't you? I'm sure your father has taught you better than that. Bart, if you want people to love you and respect you, you have to treat them as you would want to be treated. Would you like for me to spy on you?"
"NO!" I roared.
Another day, another trip to the office of that gray-haired old doctor who made me lie down and close my eyes so he could sit behind me and ask dumb questions.
"Are you Bart Sheffield today or Malcolm?" Wouldn't say nothing
"What is Malcolm's last name?"
Was none of his business.
"How do you feel about your mother now that she can't dance ballet anymore?"
"Glad."
Took him by surprise. He got busy scribbling down notes, getting real excited so his face was red when I opened my eyes and turned to take a peek. I thought I'd give him more to get excited about. "I wish Jory would fall and smash both his kneecaps. Then I could walk faster than him, and run faster than him, and do everything better too. Then when I come into the room everyone will look at me, not him."
He waited for more. When nothing else came he said gently, "I understand, Bart. You fear your mother and father don't love you as much as they do Jory."
Rage took me over. "Yes, she does! She loves me better! But I can't dance. It's the dancing that makes her laugh with Jory, and frown with me. I was gonna grow up and be a doctor--but now I don't want to. 'Cause my real daddy wasn't a doctor like they told me. He was an attorney."
"How do you know that?" he asked.
Wouldn't tell him. None of his business. John Amos told me. Heard grandma telling Dad, too. Lawyers were smart, real smart. That would make me smart too. Dancers didn't have good brains, just good legs.
"Is there anything else you would like to tell me, Bart?"
"Yeah!" I snapped, jumping up from the couch and grabbing his letter opener. "Last night the moon was full. I looked out of the window and heard it calling to me. I wanted to howl. Then I needed to taste blood. I ran like crazy into the woods, and on into the hills, when out of the night appeared a woman who was beautiful, with long, long golden hair."
"And what did you do?" asked the doctor when I paused.
"I killed her, then ate her."
He scribbled away, and I picked up several of the lollipops he kept for his younger patients. Then I took about six more, thinking my grandmother might want one, at least.
When I was home I hurried over to Apple's stall and flipped backwards through the pages of Malcolm's journal. I needed to find out something-- and I'd skipped some mushy pages before. I wanted to know what drew him toward women whom he despised.
It was fall again, and all the trees wore brilliant autumn colors. I followed Alicia into the woods as she rode her horse with admirable skill. I had to spur my horse to make him gallop and give chase. She was so enchanted with the beauty of the season she didn't seem to hear the beat of my horse's hoofs. For a brief second I lost sight of her when she disappeared into a thicket. That's when I suspected she might be headed for the lake where I swam when I was a child. One last swim before summer was gone and winter turned the water icy.
Cherry-flavored lollipops were my favorites. I licked and licked until I could stick out my tongue and see it red as blood. Good to read and eat sweet stuff as I skimmed through the sickening glop that followed for pages on end. Gee, Malcolm must have started making money and gaining power when he was much older.
Just as I suspected, she was in the pool, her glorious body as flawless as I'd guessed it would be. And to think my father was enjoying all of that while I had to endure the frigid body of a woman who could only submit, never enjoy.
Dripping and shimmering she stepped from the lake to the grassy bank where her clothes lay waiting. My breath caught as I beheld her in sunlight. The spill of her glorious hair caught red, gold, with dark amber shadows, and the floss between her thighs curled wet and dark.
She saw me then and gasped. I hadn't realized I'd stepped out of the shadows.
Thank God she slapped him, and told him off. Now, now, he was getting to be like the Malcolm I knew him to be: mean, hard, ruthless and rich.
"You'll pay for this, Alicia. Both you and your son will pay, and dearly pay. Nobody rejects me after leading me on, and letting me believe--"