The Unloved

  An hour later Marguerite, dressed in one of her mother’s favorite gowns, the string of jet beads around her neck, was back in the ballroom. Humming softly to herself, she raised her arms and bowed as gracefully as she could to the dancing partner only she could see.

  “I dance well,” she breathed as she let herself be taken into the invisible arms. “But not as well as my daughter. My daughter is going to be a star someday.” She smiled gently, a faraway look in her eye. “I’m going to see to that. Yes, someday Marguerite is going to be a star.…”

  CHAPTER 17

  Kevin steered Marguerite’s old Chevy off the causeway and turned left up the road toward the house. The car, coughing in protest as he pressed the accelerator, lurched forward, and Kevin shook his head dolefully. “We’re going to have to get a new car,” he said to no one in particular. “This one’s about to fall apart.”

  “Can we get a convertible?” Jeff immediately asked from the backseat. “They’re neat.”

  “I think another station wagon might be a little more practical,” Kevin replied. Glancing ahead, he frowned. Silhouetted against the clear sky, Sea Oaks loomed like a dark and heavy mass, leavened only by a single light from the west end of the second story. “How come Ruby didn’t leave the lights on for us?”

  “Why would she?” Julie asked. “This is the first time we’ve gone out at night.”

  A couple of minutes later Kevin pulled the Chevy into the garage, switched off the wheezing motor, and swung the splintering door closed. Julie and Jeff were already in the kitchen when Kevin caught up with them, and Jeff was rummaging through the refrigerator, searching for something to eat.

  “Not now,” Kevin told him, pushing the refrigerator door closed. “It’s past eleven, and you’ve already had a chocolate malt. Time for bed.”

  “Aw, Dad,” Jeff moaned. “Ruby said she was going to make a pie tonight. Can’t I have just one piece?”

  Kevin glanced quickly around the kitchen, then glared at his son with mock severity. “If Ruby had wanted you to eat her pie, she would have left it out for you. Now, off with you!” He smacked Jeff’s bottom gently, and the boy scooted out of the kitchen. When he was gone, Kevin smiled at Julie. “How about you? If I can find that pie, want to split a piece with me?”

  Julie shook her head. “I shouldn’t have had that sundae. I’ll swell up like a balloon.”

  “Suit yourself,” Kevin replied. He checked the back door to make certain it was locked. “If you’re going up, make sure your brother brushed his teeth, will you?”

  “Who has to make sure? He never brushes them unless I stand right there while he does it.”

  Kevin turned to look at Julie, his head cocked slightly, as if he was seeing her for the first time. “And you do that?” he asked, his voice choking with sudden emotion.

  Julie shrugged, then nodded, blushing slightly with self-consciousness. “S-Someone has to do it,” she said, her voice trembling.

  Kevin bit his lip, then put his arms around his daughter, holding her close. “I know,” he murmured. “But it should be me, not you. I guess I haven’t been—”

  Julie squeezed him hard, and spoke before he could finish. “I know how much you miss Mom,” she said. “We all miss her. And I don’t mind looking after Jeff. You have to look after all of us, and take care of this place and everything. What was I supposed to do?” she asked, looking up into her father’s eyes. “Ask you if you wanted me to help with Jeff?”

  “But you’re only fifteen—”

  “Almost sixteen,” Julie reminded him. “And sometimes, since Mom died, I feel like I’m thirty. All of a sudden everything’s different, and I can’t act like a baby anymore. But Jeff’s only eight. Someone has to look out for him.”

  Kevin’s throat constricted, and for a moment he thought he was going to cry. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. Together they moved out of the kitchen and through the house to the bottom of the stairs. “I’ll check around down here, then come up,” he said. He chuckled, but there was a hollowness to his laugh. “I was going to say I’d tuck you in, but I guess you don’t need that anymore, do you?”

  Now Julie truly did blush, though her father couldn’t see it in the darkness of the house. “It’s still kind of nice,” she said, “every once in a while, anyway.” Kissing her father on the cheek, she skipped up the stairs.

  Kevin moved through the house slowly, checking the windows and doors. But as he went from room to room, he had a growing sense of unease, as if something in the house weren’t quite right. When he came back to the kitchen for one last look, he knew something was amiss.

  The dinner dishes, though neatly scraped stacked, and ready to be put into the dishwasher, were still on the counter next to the sink, and in the sink, soaking in cold, soapy water, were the pots and pans. Kevin stared at the mess for a moment, then crossed the kitchen and tapped softly at Ruby’s door.

  He waited a long moment, but there was no answer.

  He tapped again, louder this time, but when there was still no answer, he twisted the knob and pushed the door open.

  Ruby’s bed, still made up, was empty.

  Frowning, he closed her door, walked quickly through the house, mounted the stairs, and strode down the length of the hall to the closed door to what had been his mother’s room. A light shone under the door, so he knew Marguerite was still awake.

  He rapped sharply.

  “Come in,” he heard Marguerite call.

  Opening the door, he stepped into the bedroom. Marguerite, lying in bed with only a sheet thrown over her nightgown clad body, smiled at him. Her eyes were twinkling, and her hair, cascading down over her shoulders to frame her face, made her look oddly young. “I heard the children come up,” she said. “Did you have a good time?”

  Kevin nodded. “Fine,” he said. Then: “Are you feeling better? You look like you are.”

  Marguerite’s smile broadened, and she stretched languorously in the bed. “I feel wonderful,” she said. “The pain in my hip’s almost not there tonight. I almost feel like I could dance again. I’ve just been lying here feeling good about everything. Didn’t you ever feel that way?”

  “But where’s Ruby?” Kevin asked, ignoring his sister’s questions. “The kitchen isn’t cleaned up, and she’s not in her room.”

  The smile faded from Marguerite’s lips and her eyes darkened. “She’s gone,” she said, her voice taking on a slight edge. “She got a call just after you left. Some family problem, she said. Anyway, she brought me up my supper and then just took off!”

  “Ruby?” Kevin said, his voice doubtful. “That doesn’t sound like her. Even when I was little, she was always here—”

  Marguerite cut him off with an impatient gesture. “Well, that was a lot of years ago, wasn’t it? Back then you could count on people.” She sighed heavily. “Sometimes I don’t know what I’m going to do about her. It seems like she gets worse and worse. To take off tonight, when I wasn’t feeling well—I swear, Kevin, sometimes I wonder if we shouldn’t just fire her and try to find someone reliable. Mother always said—”

  “Mother always said something bad about everyone,” Kevin broke in. “And we certainly aren’t going to fire Ruby.”

  Marguerite suddenly relaxed. “No, of course we aren’t,” she agreed, her voice gentle again. “And I suppose everyone has a right to have family problems now and then, don’t they?” She reached out to Kevin, squeezing his hand gently. “And it’s not as if I don’t have anyone to take care of me, is it? There’s you, and Julie …”

  Kevin nodded. “And Jeff.”

  Marguerite laughed lightly, her voice tinkling like a tiny bell. “Of course,” she added. “And Jeff. I mustn’t forget him, must I?”

  “As if he’d let you,” Kevin replied. He bent down and brushed his sister’s cheek with his lips. “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better, anyway. Have a good night’s sleep, and I’ll see you in the morning. But right now I’d better get downstairs and
clean up the kitchen.”

  “You don’t need to do that,” Marguerite protested. “Julie can take care of it in the morn—”

  But Kevin shook his head firmly. “I’ll do it tonight. Julie’s got enough to do, especially if Ruby’s going to be gone for a while. See you tomorrow.”

  Then he was gone, and Marguerite stretched luxuriantly once more.

  She did feel good tonight, she decided. In fact, for the first time in years and years, she felt truly wonderful.…

  Julie wasn’t certain exactly what it was that had awakened her. Indeed, she wasn’t quite sure she had been asleep at all. After she’d put Jeff to bed, she’d come to her room, put on her pajamas, then sprawled out on top of the covers to read for a while. Though she’d opened the window wide, the slight breeze there had been earlier had died away, and the humid air hung heavily around her, making it impossible to concentrate on her book. Finally she’d put it aside, lying on her back to stare at the ceiling as she let her mind drift. A little later her father had come in.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Julie complained when he’d told her of Ruby’s absence. “I could have helped you with the dishes. All I’ve been doing is lying here pretending it’s cool.” She grinned at him. “But it doesn’t work. The more I think about it, the stickier I get. Did Ruby leave any lemonade in the refrigerator?”

  They’d gone downstairs together, then sat in the kitchen talking for a while, until Kevin finally found himself unable to stifle any more of his yawns. “Some of us didn’t sleep all day,” he’d remarked as he put the glasses in the dishwasher.

  For the next hour or so Julie had lain once more on her bed, trying to drift into sleep but unable to.

  The insect noises seemed to be amplified tonight, though the sea, nearly silent, was only a soft and distant lapping. Twice she heard an owl hooting softly in the darkness, and once, a little while ago, a sudden silence had fallen in the night, as if a dangerous presence had come near. But then, slowly, the crickets had once more begun their soft chirruping, and then the frogs had joined in the chorus, until once more the air vibrated with their sound.

  Now, wide awake, Julie was almost certain she would get no sleep tonight.

  She took a deep breath, rolled off the bed, and wandered over to the window. The moon was low, a brilliant silver orb hanging over the sea, its reflected light streaming across the surface of the water like a shimmering highway.

  Far out, a boat crossed the path of the moon, and Julie watched it until it disappeared, swallowed up in the darkness of the horizon. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a strange movement.

  She frowned, shifting her gaze, but at first saw nothing. Then, slowly and indistinctly, she began to make out a form moving through the moss-hung trees near the cemetery.

  It was nothing, she told herself, for when she looked directly at it, it disappeared entirely. It was only when she looked away that she could see it again, all but indistinguishable at the very edges of her vision. She turned away and forced herself to go back to her bed, but the memory of the strange vision stayed with her, and try as she might, she couldn’t convince herself that it had been nothing.

  Jeff’s words came back to her, echoing in her mind. “I know I saw something, and I know it was a ghost!”

  At last, almost in spite of herself, she got up again and went back to the window.

  The figure was clear now, for it had emerged from the trees and moved into the graveyard.

  The moon shone full on it, and it glimmered brightly as it dipped and turned among the graves, at last coming to rest beside the crypt, where it sank down, huddling against the ground.

  Julie felt her heartbeat quicken, and suddenly the heat of the night seemed to drain away as a chill passed through her body. She watched, frozen, for a moment, then tore herself away from her window, hurried out of her room and down the hall to Jeff’s room. Without knocking, she pushed the door open, went to her brother’s bed and shook him.

  “Jeff?” she whispered loudly. “Jeffy, are you awake?”

  The little boy stirred, then opened his eyes and gazed sleepily at the indistinct figure of his sister. “What’s wrong?” he mumbled. “What do you want?”

  “The ghost,” Julie whispered, her voice trembling now. “I think it’s out in the graveyard again.”

  Instantly Jeff came fully awake. He slid out of bed and darted to the window. He gazed out for a moment, then beckoned to Julie. “It’s her,” he whispered. “It’s Grandmother.”

  Almost reluctantly, Julie joined her brother at the window and peered out into the night. The strange ghostly figure was still in the cemetery, moving slowly among the grave markers, almost as if searching for something.

  “B-But it can’t be a ghost,” Julie whispered hoarsely. “There aren’t any such things.”

  “Then what is it?” Jeff challenged. “I’m telling you, it’s Grandmother’s ghost, and Ruby says it’s here because somebody died.”

  “No,” Julie protested. Now that she wasn’t alone, her fear seemed to abate. “I don’t believe it. It’s something else. It has to be—”

  “It’s not!” Jeff declared. Then he turned to stare at his sister, his eyes challenging. “If it’s not a ghost, why don’t you go down there and find out what it is?”

  Julie swallowed, trying to clear the lump from her throat. “I—I don’t want to,” she said.

  “You mean you’re afraid to,” Jeff crowed.

  “Well, aren’t you?” Julie demanded. “I don’t see you running down there to find out what it is, either.”

  The two of them stared at each other for a moment, and finally Jeff looked away. “Wh-What are we going to do?” he asked, his voice drained of the bravado of a moment ago.

  “We’ll get Dad,” Julie decided. “He’ll know what it is.”

  Together they left Jeff’s room and crept down the corridor to their father’s room, letting themselves in without bothering to knock. A moment later Kevin switched on the bedside lamp and blinked at his children, who stood before him with pale faces and frightened eyes. Julie, who had seemed so mature only two hours earlier, now looked almost as young as Jeff.

  “What is it?” Kevin asked. “What’s wrong?”

  “G-Grandmother,” Jeff stammered. “She’s in the graveyard again.”

  Kevin frowned at his son. “Now come on,” he said. “I thought we went all over that—”

  “But it’s true, Dad,” Julie broke in. “I—I saw it too. I don’t know what it is, but there’s something in the graveyard, and—” She fell silent, suddenly feeling foolish. “Well, it looks like a ghost.”

  “Well, it isn’t,” Kevin sighed, swinging himself out of bed and jamming his arms through the sleeves of his robe. “It might be a deer, or someone trying to play a trick on you, but it isn’t any ghost.”

  “Whatever it is, it’s not a deer!” Jeff said. “Come on. You can see it from Julie’s room.”

  His children behind him, Kevin crossed the hall to Julie’s room, went to the window and peered out into the darkness.

  The graveyard was empty.

  He turned to the kids, his brows arched skeptically. “Well?” he said, tipping his head toward the window. “Take a look and please tell me what you see.”

  Reluctantly, Julie and Jeff approached the window and looked out. Moonlight still illuminated the island, and the gravestones stood out in stark relief. But except for the crypt and the surrounding headstones, the cemetery was empty.

  Julie’s eyes searched the pines where she had first seen the strange figure, but now there was nothing there except the hanging moss draping the limbs, and the deep shadows cast by the trees themselves. “B-But I saw something,” she insisted, her voice trembling. “Dad, I know I did. We both saw something.”

  “You imagined you did,” Kevin corrected her. “But whatever happened, there certainly isn’t anything out there now. So I want both of you back in bed. Okay?”

  Julie, chagrined, nodded
mutely and went back to her bed. But Jeff didn’t move. Instead, he stared at his sister with pleading eyes.

  “C-Can I sleep with you tonight?” he asked.

  “Oh, for Heaven’s sake,” Kevin began, but Julie didn’t let him finish.

  “It’s okay, Dad. Really. I don’t mind if he sleeps with me.”

  Kevin started to object, then shrugged his shoulders. “Okay,” he said. “Suit yourselves. But no more nonsense tonight about ghosts, all right? See you in the morning.” Without waiting for either of his children to reply, he left Julie’s room, closing the door behind him. Five minutes later he was once more sound asleep.

  But in Julie’s room both the children lay awake, listening to the sounds of the night, their nerves on edge.

  “We saw it,” Jeff finally said, his voice echoing oddly. “I know we saw it, and I know what it means. It means somebody’s dead.”

  Julie said nothing, but for the first time, she didn’t argue with her brother about what he’d seen, or what it might mean.

  After all, tonight she’d seen it too.

  Kevin and Julie were already in the kitchen when Jeff came downstairs the next morning. He slid onto his chair and stared with disgust at the bowl of cold cereal in front of him. “Where’s Ruby?” he demanded. “How come we aren’t having eggs and pancakes?”

  Kevin, his mind already involved with the complexities of the estimates on the remodeling of five of the upstairs bedrooms, glanced at his son. “Ruby’s not here,” he explained. “Which is why we’re all eating cold cereal without complaining.”

  Jeff made a face. “I hate this junk.” He poked at the cereal with his spoon, then reached out and slid the sugar bowl across the table. Spoonful by spoonful he began emptying its contents onto his cereal, then added some milk. As he spooned the first scoop of the sticky mess into his mouth, he peered guiltily at his father out of the corner of his eye, but his father didn’t appear to notice what he was doing. “I bet Ruby’s dead,” he suddenly announced, and Kevin laid aside the estimate he was studying.