Page 8 of Into the Garden


  Anger boiled inside me. I could feel it popping bubbles like a tar pit. I'm going down those stairs, I decided, and I'm going to call Jade this minute and she can't stop me. If she strikes me again, hit her with my crutch. Fuming and refusing to be tired and defeated, I reached for the doorknob. Amazingly, it was unlocked.

  I was surprised to see that there was no hall light on. It was too early for her to put the house to sleep, I thought. However, there wasn't even a light on above the stairs, something she insisted on having on in case she had to go downstairs for something during the night.

  I found the switch and turned on the lights. Then I stood there, listening. It was deadly quiet, not a glass tinkling, no television or radio on. When I looked down the stairs, I saw that all the lights appeared to be off as well. Maybe she has gone to sleep already, I thought. Good. I didn't want to have to face her now anyway and I could call Jade without her knowing. I hated turning myself into a sneak, but it was her fault, not mine, I thought.

  I started down the stairs, moving as quietly as I could, despite the crutches. However, the steps creaked. They were her steps, I thought, sentries reporting my whereabouts. I paused to listen, but I didn't hear her coming out of her room so I continued down. When I reached the bottom, I decided not to turn on any more lights.

  I started down the corridor, barely permitting the crutches to tap on the floor. However, something unusual caught my attention as I started past the living room door. It was just a quick glimpse out of the corner of my right eye, but it made me hesitate. I listened again and then I returned to the doorway and peered into the living room.

  A lamp was turned over on the table. Why? She would never permit such a thing, I thought, and stepped into the living room. I went to the standing lamp by the easy chair and turned it on. The light that lifted the darkness revealed her feet first. They were twisted and turned.

  "Mother?" I edged forward. "Geraldine?"

  When I came around the big coffee table, I saw her sprawled on her right side on the floor, an arm up against the side of the table, her face turned toward me, her jaw twisted as if she was trying to get something out from between her teeth, and her eyes wide-open but glassy.

  For a moment I couldn't breathe; I couldn't move. I stared at her in disbelief.

  "Mother?"

  Slowly, with some difficulty, I lowered myself and reached for her hand. The moment I touched it, I knew she was gone. It was cold and the fingers were a little stiff. I drew my own hand back as if I had touched a hot stove, and gasped.

  "Mother?"

  My stomach felt as if it was doing flip-flops. I had to touch her again, to nudge her at the hip. Her body shook and her arm fell from the side of the table and hit the floor hard. Nothing else moved. She seemed to be staring angrily at me, accusing me. I could see her tongue was purple and her lips were blue.

  "Oh, my God:' I cried, and struggled to get to my feet. Nervous and shaky, I fumbled with the crutches and actually fell backward before I recovered and stood up. I stared down at her. Panic had nailed my feet to the floor and even the thought of taking a step seemed impossible. Finally, I turned away. For a few moments I headed in one direction and then another, spinning, crying, calling out for help. I knew I should get right to the phone and dial 911, but something kept me from doing it. Instead, I wandered mindlessly up and down the corridor, into the kitchen to the small den, back to the corridor and even to the foot of the stairs. For a few seconds, I contemplated returning to my room and crawling into bed.

  I was afraid to look at her again. I diverted my eyes every time I passed the living room doorway. Then I started for the front door. scream for help, I thought. I opened the door, but when I looked out at the night and the passing cars, I froze and stepped back, closing the door.

  She's dead, I told myself. Geraldine's dead. Mother's dead. I'm all alone. How did she die? What happened to her? I thought I heard a sound from the rear of the house, the sound of the back door closing. Was it my father? Had he returned? Maybe he had been here and they had fought and he had hit her and killed her!

  My blood turned to ice water. Once again, I couldn't move a muscle. I listened hard, but all I heard was the sound of the wind and some passing cars. Carefully, slowly, I made my way back to the kitchen and looked at the back door. It was shut tight and locked just the way she always kept it. No one could have gone out through it. That relieved me, but I was still shaking all over. What was I supposed to do? She was gone. I was alone.

  Finally, I went to the phone, but not to call 911. Instead, I called Jade. She answered after only one ring.

  "Hello."

  "Jade, it's me. Cathy," I said in a hoarse whisper.

  "Cat. How are you? Misty and Star told me what happened today. I was just on the phone with both of them, trying to decide what we would do next. She can't keep you locked up in there. I called Doctor Marlowe, too, and she said she had called and your mother told her you had some kind of an accident. What accident?"

  "I fell and broke my ankle," I said.

  "How did that happen? So she let you use the phone at least, or are you doing it behind her back? Cathy? Are you still there?"

  "Jade ..."

  "What's wrong? Tell me," she demanded. "We're your sisters. Cathy? We're here for you. You can trust us."

  My throat seemed to have shut down. I couldn't get enough breath out to speak. I couldn't swallow. The tears were frozen at my lids. My hand shook terribly as I held the receiver to my ear.

  "Cathy, talk to me. Cathy?"

  "She's gone," I finally said.

  "Who is? Cathy?"

  "She's lying on the floor in the living room," I whispered as if I was afraid she would hear me even in death and be angry I had told someone about her.

  "What?"

  "She's dead, Jade. My mother, Geraldine, my sister, she's dead," I finally managed to say.

  "What do you mean, dead?"

  "I came downstairs and found her on the floor in the living room. She's dead. She died while I was upstairs asleep!'

  "Are you sure?" she gasped. "Maybe she's just asleep."

  "No, she's not just asleep. She's cold and her eyes are stuck."

  "Her eyes are stuck? You're not making sense. Did you call anyone, the police, 911?"

  "How did she die?"

  "I don't know," I whispered, actually looking around again.

  "Was there any blood?"

  "No, I don't think so. I'm not sure. I didn't really look at her."

  "Maybe she's not dead then, Cathy."

  I spun around because a rippling sensation at the back of my neck gave me the terrifying feeling that I wasn't alone.

  "Cathy?"

  "I don't know what to do," I continued in a whisper.

  "All right. Stay calm. I'm on my way. Call the others, too."

  "Should I call 911?" I asked.

  There was a pause.

  "Are you absolutely sure she's dead, Cathy? Are you?"

  "Yes," I said. "I am."

  "Then no," Jade said. "Don't call anyone yet. Just wait. I'll be right there. Don't worry. We're coming to help you, Cathy."

  She hung up. I held the phone a moment and then I hung up and listened. The house was quiet. No one's here, I told myself. Be calm, I coaxed that part of me that wanted to scream. Then I went to get a glass of water and wait, my eyes turned inward, looking at a whirlpool of fear, spinning, spinning.

  Jade was the first to arrive. When I opened the front door, she stood there gaping in at me, shocked by the sight of me in a cast and on crutches. I watched her limousine leave.

  "Star told me she thought you were on crutches. How did this happen to you?" she asked, still not taking a step into the house.

  "I was up in our crawl space looking through old car tons, searching for my past like you said I should when she discovered what I was doing and took the ladder away. I tried to get down and fell. I broke a bone in my ankle."

  "She took the ladder away? Why?"

>   "To punish me for snooping," I said.

  "And just left you up there? How cruel. Where is she?" she followed after a moment. We were still talking to each other in the doorway, but she gazed past me with tentative eyes as if she thought Geraldine might be lying right behind me in the hallway.

  "In the living room. Like I said, I fell asleep upstairs. When I came down, the lights were all off. I found her on the floor," I said. "A lamp was

  overturned on a table, too."

  "Really?" She gazed past me again. "You sure you're alone?" she asked. I knew what concerned her.

  "Yes. I checked and the rear door is still locked."

  "All right," she said, sucking in her breath, "show me:'

  I stepped back and she entered. I closed the door and led her to the living room. We both stood there looking down at Geraldine.

  "I've never seen a dead person in person before," Jade said, impressed. "You're absolutely sure she's dead?"

  "Touch her," I suggested. She stared a moment and shook her head.

  "No, she looks dead enough." She stepped back and sat on the easy chair.

  I continued to stare at the woman I had called Mother all my life, wondering why I wasn't feeling more sadness, why I wasn't bawling my head off. I guess it was because she still looked so mad at me, so mad at the world.

  "Besides the lamp, were there any other signs of an accident or anything?"

  I shook my head.

  "You're looking at it all."

  "Did you look at the rest of her?"

  "Rest of her?"

  "I mean, are you sure she isn't bleeding somewhere?" she asked with a grimace as if it put her in pain to even think about it.

  I thought a moment and then went around behind Geraldine and lowered myself down.

  "There's nothing," I said, and got back up.

  "Maybe she passed out, fell, and hit her head or something," Jade muttered.

  "Maybe. She wasn't acting right for days. I could see she was out of breath and even had some pain, but you know what I told you about her and doctors. She wouldn't ever admit to having a problem," I said. "She hated medicine and only took her herbal remedies. Actually, she was never very sick, but lately she looked pale to me often. Her lips are so blue," I added. "Otherwise she doesn't look so different. Her body's cold, of course:' I rambled.

  Jade raised her eyebrows, embraced herself, and looked toward the front door.

  "Where are those two?" she asked, referring to Star and Misty. "There wasn't very much traffic. As soon as I hung up from talking to you, I called them and then I sent a cab for Star. Misty took her own cab. She's even closer to you than I am!"

  I nodded and looked down at Geraldine.

  "I tried to go on a fast in protest, but she didn't get frightened for me. I couldn't even last a day without food," I admitted.

  "Protest? Protesting what?"

  "Not letting me be friends with you, Star, and Misty." Jade grimaced

  "She wouldn't let you be friends with us? What's wrong with her?"

  "Nothing now," I said. I gazed at her. "She's dead." Jade started to look a little pale to me, too.

  "Are you all right?" I asked her.

  "Me? Yes, of course. I'm just trying to stay calm and think straight." She clutched her hands and twisted her fingers a bit. "Where are they?"

  "When I was up in the crawl space, I managed to read one of my real mother's letters before Geraldine discovered me and took away the ladder. My real mother put a trust aside for me that I get when I'm eighteen. I never knew it," I said. "But then, there was a lot I didn't know, a lot I still don't know. I had to leave the rest of the letters up there. Maybe you can help me get them down now. We'll need the ladder, of course. It's back in the garage. Everything in this house has its proper place and must be returned to that place," I recited. Geraldine had drilled it into my brain.

  Jade stared at me a moment and then looked back at Geraldine.

  "She's actually dead," Jade said, shaking her head. "Wow." She stared a moment and then she looked up at me. "What? What about a ladder?"

  I realized she hadn't heard a word I said.

  We heard the doorbell ring.

  "That must be Misty and Star," she said jumping to her feet. "Finally. Wait here."

  She went out to let them in. I could hear them whispering in the foyer. They were there for at least a minute or so before they all appeared and gathered around me to look at Geraldine.

  "Is she really dead?" Misty asked.

  Star, unafraid, knelt down, lifted her wrist and felt for a pulse.

  "She's gone for sure," she said. Without any hesitation, she moved Geraldine's head, looking through her hair and then the back of her neck. "No one hit her," she concluded. She looked up at me. "From what you told Jade about her being weak lately, I bet it was a heart attack."

  "You have to have a heart to have a heart attack," Jade muttered.

  "This is like a movie scene," Misty said. Her eyes were so wide that I thought her pupils might just pop out on tiny springs. "There'll be an investigation, the police, newspaper reporters, all of it!"

  "Scare her some more why don't you," Star muttered, her ebony eyes brightening like hot coals. She stood up and looked at me. "How do you feel?"

  I shook my head and embraced myself.

  "The lamp was knocked over, but it's not broken. It's back where it belongs."

  "What?" She looked at Jade who shook her head. "Cat, are you all right?" She reached out to touch my arm.

  I shook my head.

  "I feel numb," I said. "I don't even feel the pain in my ankle anymore."

  Misty asked how I had broken my ankle and I repeated the story for them.

  "What a mean thing to do to you," Misty said.

  "I've got to-go back in two days for another Xray to be sure it's all healing right," I said, and laughed a thin, nervous laugh. "She thought they were just trying to run up a big medical bill. She didn't want to go back. Now, she doesn't have to."

  I laughed again and that laugh became brittle, shattered, and turned into a sob. The sob ran on until I felt tears emerging. My whole body started to shake. Star put her arm around me quickly and helped me to the sofa. They all gathered around.

  "Get her a glass of water," Star ordered Misty. She hurried out of the room. "You're going to be all right, Cat. Don't worry."

  "I've been thinking a lot while I was waiting for you. Maybe... maybe it's my fault she's dead," I said, trying to swallow down a lump in my throat. Misty brought me the glass of water and I drank some quickly. "She got so angry at me. She was raging for the last couple of days. If she did have a heart attack, it's my fault," I insisted.

  "No, no," Jade said, shaking her head. "She shouldn't have gotten angry at those things anyway. It's her fault. She probably ate her own heart out."

  "Jade's right," Misty said. "My mother's always talking about stress making you sick and giving you wrinkles. That's what happened to your sister. She stressed herself to the point of breaking."

  "She was meant to die," Star added. "It was her time. You can't blame yourself for that."

  "I couldn't help with any of the housework and she hated that I made her relive the past. I kept asking questions she didn't want to answer. Telling me about the past was painful for her, too," I told them. Although they didn't look like they believed it or cared, they nodded as I spoke. It just felt good to keep talking so I related all the facts Geraldine had given me about our mother and her so-called assignations with different men. As long as I talked, I didn't cry.

  "She should have told you everything years ago. You're not a child," Star said. "Granny says secrets can be like rats living in the closets of your heart, gnawing at you until you get sick."

  "She got sick all right," Jade said, nodding at Geraldine's body.

  "Who do we call?" Misty asked. "I mean, do we call the police first or an ambulance or what? Anybody know?"

  "You call the police first," Jade said. "They have to
investigate before they remove the body. It's an unattended death. Don't you watch any television?"

  "You know I do," Misty said.

  "They'll surely blame me," I said. "Maybe they'll want to put me in jail."

  "That's silly, Cat. Stay cool," Star said.

  She looked at Jade and Jade looked at Misty. Then they were all staring at me.

  "More importantly, what's going to happen to Cat?" Star wondered aloud.

  "Does your mother have any nearby relatives?" Jade asked.

  I shook my head.

  "There are some cousins, but they live on the East Coast I think. I don't even know their names."

  "They won't care about her," Star said. "She's no more than a stranger to them."

  "She can't call her adoptive father's family. That's for sure," Misty said.

  Jade nodded.

  "So what happens to her now?" Star asked They were talking almost as ill wasn't even there.

  "She's not eighteen yet," Jade said, putting on her official, adult face. "If there's no family to take her in, she'll go to foster care."

  "What does that mean?" Misty asked before I could.

  "It means she'll become a ward of the state and fanned out to some family until she's eighteen:'

  "You mean that she'll have to live with complete strangers?" Misty asked, astounded.

  "No," Star said sarcastically. "They'll introduce her first. Of course, strangers. What do you think?" "Oh," Misty said, turning to me. "Poor Cat."

  "When she turns eighteen, her trust, all of it becomes hers and then she'll be on her own," Jade added, to soften the blow.

  "Lotta good that does now," Star muttered. "She's got nearly a year to go."

  Misty nodded and then looked back at Geraldine. When she turned to me again, I saw a new glint in her eyes.

  "Who's your mother's, I mean your sister's closest friend?" she asked

  "She doesn't have any close friends," I said. "In fact, she doesn't have anyone I'd call a friend. She's never invited to anyone's home or invites anyone here. No one ever calls her. She has no one really."

  "Had," Jade reminded us. "Had. She's gone."

  "Besides," Star said, "just because someone might have been her sister's friend, doesn't mean they'd want to be responsible for Cat."