Nutcracker, Jory," said Bart as he headed fast for the
stairs. "You were the ugly nutcracker that turned into
the handsome prince. You dominated every male role
--and won the prettiest ballerina every time. In
Cinderella, in Romeo and Juliet
. In The Sleeping
Beauty, Giselle, Swan Lake--every time but the last
time. And it's the last time that counts, isn't it?" How cruel! How very cruel! I watched Jory wince, and for once he allowed his pain to show,
making my heart ache for him.
"Merry Christmas," Bart called as he
disappeared up the stairs. "We'll never again celebrate
this holiday, or any other in this house as long as I run
it. Joel was right. He warned me not to try and
conform and be like others. He said I shouldn't try to
make people like or respect me. From now on, I'll be
like Malcolm. I'll gain respect by inflicting my will on
others, with fists of iron, and with ruthless
determination. All who have alienated me tonight will
feel my might."
I turned to Chris when he was out of sight. "He
sounds crazy!"
"No, darling, he's not crazy--he's just Bart,
young and vulnerable again and very, very hurt. He
used to break his bones when he was a child to punish
himself because he failed socially and in school. Now
he's going to break the lives of others. Isn't it a pity,
Cathy, that nothing works out for him?"
I stood at the newel post looking upward to
where an old man hid in the shadows, seeming to
shake from his silent laughter.