Daughter of Darkness

  “I got suspended from school for two days,” I immediately confessed. Was there any way to skirt the truth? I struggled to think of a way around it and came up with nothing else.

  “Suspended? You? Why?”

  “There’s a strict rule about the use of cell phones in the building. I used my cell phone in the hallway between classes. Actually, I was a little late for a class because of it. I’m sorry, Daddy. I just wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have left it on, but when it rang, I answered.”

  “Who called you?” Mrs. Fennel immediately demanded.

  Choices bounced back and forth in my mind like Ping-Pong balls. Should I become indebted to Ava and accept her help? Should I try to convince them of the same story I had used on Ava and say it was a wrong number? I could even say that whoever called realized it was a wrong number and there was no one on the line when I answered. The only choices I had were lies. I certainly couldn’t tell the truth now.

  “Ava,” I said.

  Mrs. Fennel grimaced. “Ava? Why would she call you? What did she want?”

  “She wanted to tell me she would be late for dinner,” I recited.

  Daddy’s eyes narrowed. I tried to avoid his gaze and look only at Mrs. Fennel.

  “Why was she going to be late?” Mrs. Fennel asked.

  “She wouldn’t say,” I replied. “There wasn’t time to ask her. Once I got caught and was sent to the principal’s office, I was too upset to care. I knew how unhappy you would be about my suspension, Daddy. I’m sorry. It just happened.”

  “This is quite unlike you, Lorelei, to forget an important rule like that. Something very serious must have been on your mind.”

  “There was. I wanted to speak to Mrs. Fennel about it, but you were both gone.”

  “About what?” she asked. “What was distracting you to such an extent?”

  “Things have been happening to me recently, things I described before,” I told Mrs. Fennel, “only now they’re more intense and more frequent.”

  “What things?” Daddy asked impatiently.

  “For no apparent reason, muscles in my body start to harden.”

  Mrs. Fennel looked at Daddy. “I gave her something to make it easier,” she told him.

  He nodded. Whatever was happening to me was something they appeared to have expected. My using it was succeeding in deflecting their scrutiny.

  “I guess that was heavily on my mind, and I didn’t think about anything else,” I continued. “Ava thought I was still at lunch and could take the call outside the building. It was all just an unfortunate accident.”

  “Where’s Ava now?” Daddy asked.

  “She went to pick up Marla. I’m not permitted to be on the school grounds during a suspension. I’m sorry, but you have to go to school with me tomorrow to meet with the principal. Anyone suspended can’t return without one of his or her parents meeting with him. There’s a message about it on the phone answering machine.”

  “This is precisely the wrong time for something like this to happen,” Mrs. Fennel muttered.

  “Go to your room,” Daddy ordered. “I’ll speak with Ava about this before I come to see you.”

  “Don’t tell us how sorry you are again,” Mrs. Fennel warned instantly. “You know how I feel about that stupid word.”

  I nodded, lowered my head, and walked off to my bedroom. I knew from the stories I overheard at school that kids my age often lied to their parents. Some bragged about how successful they were, not even realizing that they were making their own parents sound gullible and stupid. In fact, the way they spoke about it made it seem as if they believed that kids our age who told their parents the truth about what they did were the stupid ones. For most of my life, I couldn’t help but want to be more like the other girls and boys in my classes, but I never wanted to feel good about fooling Daddy and Mrs. Fennel.

  Being a good liar, however, had become part of the job description. Clever liars mixed their fabrications with half-truths and thus muddied the waters, making it more difficult for their parents to understand what was true and what wasn’t. Others left out the unpleasant things or things that would anger their parents. The stock excuse once they were caught was a simple “I forgot.” From what I could see of some of these kids, they were very good at it. They could lie with straight faces, lie to their teachers, to their families, and even to their friends, without feeling a bit remorseful or guilty when they were caught. To me, that was like building relationships on a foundation of bubbles.

  But too many famous, powerful, and influential people had been caught lying, and once they were exposed, they apologized and sounded and looked remorseful. They talked about the burden now on their shoulders to win back the trust of those they loved. They were so successful at it that lying was rapidly becoming a minor infraction and hardly a sin. Even those who perjured themselves in courtrooms could get good lawyers and get away with it. Why was it such a surprise, then, to see young people relying on falsehoods?

  Even so, and with all of the reasons for me to be less conflicted about it, I still felt terrible about lying to Daddy. I saw the pain in his eyes, the disappointment. It was enough to make my heart feel like a pincushion.

  I couldn’t help but wonder what it was that both Mrs. Fennel and Daddy had expected when I had described how my body would suddenly harden. Neither seemed terribly concerned. Was this happening to me because of the things she fed us? Was it somehow part of the normal changes that occurred in a young woman? Nothing in my high school health class suggested such a thing, but I never felt that our teacher, who was also a part-time nurse, was comfortable discussing sexual maturing. It was probably a mistake to have boys and girls in the same class.

  I went into my room, sat on my bed, and waited. I knew it wouldn’t be long before Ava and Marla would be there. It suddenly occurred to me that Ava might have tricked me. The possibility brought the blood into my face. What if she acted as if she didn’t know a thing about my story when Daddy asked her? I’d be trapped and have to confess to a bundle of lies. Maybe she and Marla had been plotting against me all along. Now that I thought more about it, I wondered why Ava would risk angering Daddy and Mrs. Fennel for me, anyway. Did she hate the fact that I had a boyfriend, someone I really cared for and who cared for me that much? Was her hatred of my succeeding in having something of a normal relationship so great that she would take the risk just to get me to destroy that relationship?

  Where was the truth sleeping among all these lies, and if I found it, would I be able to wake it up? Did I want to? I didn’t know where to put my loyalty at this moment. With Buddy? With myself? With Daddy? The house felt full of sticky cobwebs. Spiders and snakes crawled over everything. Never before had I felt as if I was living in a nest of vipers the way I did at that moment.

  The moment I heard them drive up, I rose and looked out the window. They emerged from Ava’s car, laughing the way they had been laughing when they had come home from school the day before. They looked closer than ever, real sisters hugging each other, bumping shoulders softly. I felt completely alienated from them.

  Panic set in as a silence fell over the house. I felt a fluttering in my chest and a trembling in my legs. I took deep breaths and returned to my bed. The minutes that passed seemed more like hours to me. How well would Ava hold up in the cross-examination, even if she wanted to support the story? Would Mrs. Fennel frighten and threaten her until she told the truth? Would my bedroom door open and all four of them be standing out there looking in at me as if I was the biggest traitor the family had ever known, their eyes gaping, their faces distorted with rage?

  Even before I knew the answers, tears began. Why shouldn’t I cry? What other love had I known until then but Daddy’s love? He had filled me with his poetry and his music, his vast knowledge and wisdom. I was as much part of him as I was of anyone or anything. He had cared for me, protected me, and placed his faith in me, as I had placed mine in him. In seconds, that might all be gone, and then what would I
be? Who would I be? What would I have? The same fear of loneliness and abandonment I had felt all my young life came rushing back over me.

  Anyone condemning me or judging me badly for having this fear would have had to have been abandoned first, would have had to have experienced life without family and friends, and would have had to have known nothing more about themselves than what they had been told. I had found the picture of a woman who could be my mother, but I had not found out anything about her. I had no grandparents, no real uncles and aunts, and no cousins. I was someone without any history except for the history I had been given. That had all supposedly begun the day I was plucked out of an orphanage. When I was sent away, I would have no name. Yes, before anyone condemned me for being so frightened and so upset about what might happen to me, he or she would have to stand in my shoes.

  I heard footsteps in the hallway and knew from the sound that it was only Daddy who was coming to see me. I wiped away the tears from my cheeks and sat up straight, holding my breath until he opened the door.

  “I swear, the two of you will be the death of me,” he said. “Do you know why your sister was late for dinner last night and why she called you? Of course you don’t. You said you didn’t, but you’d never imagine.”

  I waited, yet to take a breath.

  “She was afraid we would move away from here before she had helped you be your father’s daughter. She went and answered one of those personal advertisements through the Internet. Frankly, I never thought of any of you doing that. There’s a potential gold mine there. She had to meet the prospect. I guess I can’t fault her for being clever, but I do fault the both of you for messing up, for being careless and getting yourself in trouble at school,” he added, but not with the violent anger I had anticipated. “Mrs. Fennel’s correct. This is not good timing for something like this, not that there is ever a good time for it for us.”

  I took a breath. “I know Mrs. Fennel hates my saying it, but I can’t help it, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

  He nearly laughed. I felt my body soften and relax. “Well, Mrs. Fennel believes that in a world where no one could say he or she was sorry, fewer mistakes would be made. People would be more careful.”

  He stepped up to me, took my chin in his hand, and gazed at my face.

  “You’re too beautiful not to forgive, Lorelei. I know deep in your heart, you don’t want to do anything that would hurt me, hurt all of us. Soon you will be fully mature, fully realize your potential and purpose, and then you will be unstoppable. This really is the wrong time to be making any mistakes. You’re too close. I think you understand that now. Instinctively, you do.”

  I tried to nod, but he was holding my chin too tightly. I could feel the strength flowing through his fingers and into my face.

  “I’ll go with you to school tomorrow. We have a little more time here yet, and I want you to be all right, for all of us to be all right, until we leave.”

  “Where will we go, Daddy?”

  “We’re going to Louisiana,” he said. “There are many new opportunities there for us since the floods.”

  He was still holding my chin between his thumb and fingers.

  “So, I’m going to forgive you for this mistake, Lorelei. I want you to feel and appreciate my forgiveness,” he added, and slowly lowered himself so he could bring his lips to mine. It was a kiss unlike any he had ever given me, a kiss that didn’t awaken the daughter in me but awakened the woman. “There,” he said. “Sealed with a kiss.”

  He let go of my chin and stood back, looking at me for a moment, a different sort of smile on his face, one I had not seen. It wasn’t the fatherly smile he had given me so often and I had so cherished. It wasn’t a smile of laughter or amusement, either. It was more the smile of an arrogant lover who was basking in the brightness of his own powerful sexuality. I really was reacting more like a woman than a daughter, and once again, I felt my body tighten and harden in places.

  “Yes,” he said. “You’re too beautiful not to forgive. We’ll talk again at dinner.”

  He stepped out and softly closed the door behind him.

  I hadn’t realized I had been holding my breath so long. My lungs nearly exploded. I glanced at myself in the mirror. The tears were gone, but in their place was a mixture of amazement and fear. What was I really learning about who and what I would become?

  I tried not to think about it. Instead, I busied myself with myself. I took a shower, washed my hair, and brushed it out. As I was dressing, Ava came into my room.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “Well what?” I replied, and pulled up my skirt.

  “Didn’t I do what I promised? I saved your ass, Lorelei.”

  “You lied to Daddy, too. You took a big risk, too.”

  “So, what are you going to do, confess just to get me in trouble?”

  I turned away from her and put on my blouse.

  “I think you had better think hard about your future, Lorelei. If you don’t do what I tell you to do, that future won’t include Daddy or me or anyone in this family.”

  “Don’t threaten me, Ava,” I said, spinning on her but trying to remain as cool as I could.

  She smiled that cool, arrogant smile. “I’m not threatening you, Lorelei. A threat is like a promise of something terrible that could happen. This is more like a prediction,” she said. “You know, like when you’re driving off a cliff and falling a thousand feet. You can predict you’ll be dead in seconds.”

  I tried to keep my façade of strength and resistance, but she was still my older sister, still Ava, the one who could make me tremble.

  “Put on those earrings I gave you. They go perfectly with that blouse,” she said, and left.

  I sat on the bed and stared at the floor. What would happen now? I hoped that Mrs. Fennel would be so concerned that she would have Daddy move up our date to leave. Despite how I felt about Buddy, I wished it were tomorrow. I wished I would wake up and find my clothes had been packed and the car was idling outside. It would be a true getaway. We would disappear into that fog of mystery that kept all of our family secrets safely hidden. Daddy was right to think of it as being born again. The past would fall back and dissipate like smoke. Amnesia would be a blessing.

  I rose and went to dinner.

  It was as if nothing bad had happened. Daddy was very happy and talkative. He described our new home in Baton Rouge. It was an antebellum mansion. It surprised me to hear him say it had been in our family for nearly two hundred years. What family did he mean?

  “What’s antebellum mean?” Marla asked.

  “Built before the Civil War,” I said before Daddy could reply.

  He smiled. “That’s right. I’ve lived in many like it. It’s a Greek Revival. You’ll be impressed with the detailed work in it. And the two of you,” he said, referring to Marla and me, “will have bedrooms nearly twice the size of the ones you have now. And don’t forget, we’ll have a new little girl. Another sister for you will be coming.”

  “I can’t wait,” Marla said. “It’s boring here.”

  Daddy laughed. “Boredom won’t be your problem, Marla. Will it, Ava?”

  “Hardly,” she said. Whenever Daddy spoke or she did, she looked mainly at me, searching for any hint that I was about to break down and confess.

  “How much longer, Daddy?” Marla asked.

  “Not much longer.” He looked at Ava. “We still have a few things left to do here.”

  Ava smiled and said, “Yes, we do. Don’t we, Lorelei?”

  I glanced quickly at Daddy. He was gazing at me with a more studied look, searching for some hesitation.

  “Yes,” I said. Then I smiled. “I think I agree with Marla for once. I can’t wait, either.”

  “Excellent,” Daddy said. He reached for our hands. “My girls. No one anywhere, no other family, no father and daughter, will ever be, could ever be, as close as we are. Feel your pulses. Your hearts beat together as one heart with my heart. Others talk about the invisible um
bilical cord that binds a child to his or her mother, but we are bound by the rhythm of life itself. When one of you is in pain, I am in pain, and more important, perhaps, when I’m in pain, you will be. That’s what makes our unity, our devotion to each other, so special, so unique, and so different from anything you will see out there. Be sisters. Always be sisters,” he said, “and you will always be good daughters.”

  Mrs. Fennel brought in our food. I looked to see if her face was still full of suspicion and anger toward me, but she didn’t look any different from the way she usually looked. I wondered if she was going to take me aside after dinner finally to talk about the changes I had felt in my body and what they meant, but she said nothing.

  Daddy wanted to spend a few hours after dinner as we often did. We gathered in the living room to listen to music. Despite what had happened earlier, he continued to be joyful. The prospect of a new home and a new daughter did appear to energize him. He lived what he preached. He was always being reborn. He did treat each day as if it were the first day of a new life.

  He danced with all three of us, but this night, he chose to dance more with Ava. When they danced, they looked like lovers. He held her closer, kissed her on her cheeks and even her neck. She laughed and threw her head back. He spun her around, the two of them at times looking as if they were completely alone. I saw Marla had the same look of astonishment but also of envy on her face. I felt that, but I was also more intrigued with Daddy and how he held the three of us differently now from how he had at previous times. There were moments now when I would swear he looked twenty years younger. It was as if instead of drinking from some magic fountain, he could will himself back in time.

  Tonight Mrs. Fennel did something unusual, too. She rarely showed her face in the living room after dinner when we were dancing with Daddy. She watched from the doorway this time, but she watched as if she wanted to be sure everything was going as it should. I tried not to stare at her, but I was curious about her reactions and searched her face for worry or concern, especially when she looked my way. There was nothing like that in her expression. She nodded to herself and eventually left.