"Well, when you find someone close, send her around and I'll give her lessons," I said, trying to lighten things up. But in my heart I couldn't help being selfish, wanting our lives to turn out just the way Luke predicted . neither of us finding anyone else and the two of us being together, forever and ever, being close and loving, even if we could never have what other lovers had--a marriage and children of their own.
We continued on toward the beauty parlor. They must have been waiting by the windows, watching for us, because just before we arrived, the owner, Dorothy Wilson, and her two assistants came rushing out to greet me.
"We'll take her out of your hands now, Luke," Dorothy commanded, getting behind the wheelchair.
All three of them fussed over me. While they worked on my hair, they gave me a pedicure and manicure and jabbered away, filling me in on all the local gossip. Luke went off to see some of his old friends and returned only moments after I was finished.
The girls didn't simply want to change my hair color; they talked me into a French braid as well. The sides of my hair were pulled back tightly and the back of my hair was woven into a thick rope of a braid. When Luke first stepped in and saw me, I could see that he liked it very much. His eyes widened and there was that smile that rippled slowly up his cheeks and settled around his eyes, that special smile I could remember on wonderful occasions like the time he gave me the charm bracelet and I gave him the ring.
"How do I look?"
"You're so very beautiful," he blurted. He looked at Dorothy and blushed because of how enthusiastically he had responded. "I mean . . . you look so much better in your own hair color.
Everyone's going to agree, I'm sure. Well," he said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, "we had better get back before my mother sends Gerald looking for us and he gets lost."
"You really like it?" I asked him as we started for Hasbrouck House.
"Very much. It makes you look like your old self again."
"I do feel so much better since I came home, Luke. I feel like I'm coming back to life after a long, long sleep. I want to try to walk again, Luke. When we get back, fetch the walker and see if I've become any stronger or if it's all just in my imagination." My enthusiasm made him smile.
"Sure. Where do you want to try?" He slowed me down and I looked back at him. I didn't have to explain. Our eyes did all the talking. He nodded and we continued on.
When we reached the house, Luke went inside and came out carrying the walker. Then he pushed me down the path that ran around the side. He stopped at the steps of the gazebo and came up beside me to take my hand as we both stared up at it.
"First, I'll carry you up and set you on the bench."
"Okay." I could barely utter the sound; I was so happy to be here again with Luke.
He lifted me gently into his arms. I cupped my left arm around his neck and our cheeks touched. Then, carefully, slowly, he carried me up the steps of our gazebo and lowered me to the bench. He squatted before me, still holding my hand and looking up at me. I sat back and looked around.
"You're right about going away and coming back. Somehow it looks smaller, older."
"But we're both here again, together. Just close your eyes and remember it the way it was for us and wish and it will be that way again. I know it will. You know, I came here the day my mother and I returned from Boston after seeing you in the hospital."
"You did?" I looked down into his eyes, eyes that fixed so tightly on my own. It was as if we could see the deepest part of one another, go beyond our bodies and even our minds to press our souls together. He made me believe that we did share something special, something magical, something only we could know and touch.
"Yes. I sat here and closed my eyes and when I opened them, I saw you sitting across from me, laughing, your hair dancing in the breeze. You spoke to me."
"What did I say?" My voice was barely above a whisper.
"You said, 'Don't be sad, Luke. I'll get better and stronger and return to Winnerrow.' I had to close my eyes to see you, and when I opened them, something magical did happen, Annie."
"What?"
"I found this lying on the gazebo floor." He reached into his pants pocket and brought out a strand of pink satin ribbon I had used to tie my hair. "Oh, I know people would say it was always here, maybe hidden under the railing and finally blown out by the wind, but I didn't see it until I opened my eyes again."
"Oh, Luke." I took the ribbon into my hand. "It doesn't even look faded."
"I kept it with me, went to sleep with it at night. My roommate must have thought I was some kind of weirdo, but I didn't care. As long as I had it, I felt close to you. So you see, there is something magical here."
Magical, I thought. If love is magic, then this is magical. Oh, I knew it was wrong; I knew a young man and a young woman so closely related shouldn't be thinking of each other this way, shouldn't be looking at each other and wanting each other this way, but neither of us seemed able to stop it. Should we just confront it openly, declare our feelings freely and fully? Or should we go on pretending that we were only close friends as well as half brother and sister?
Would that end the longing I felt for him? Would it quell the racing of my heart everytime he touched me? Would I stop dreaming and fantasizing about him? If love was truly magical, then we were blessed, or cursed, by its spell.
Blessed because whenever I was with Luke, I felt alive; I felt like a woman should feel. Cursed because it was a torment to want and to need someone you were forbidden to fully love.
Perhaps it was better not to be touched by such magic.
"I want to be close to you, Luke," I whispered, "but--"
"I know," he said, putting his finger on my lips to lock in the words we both feared. He took his finger away and leaned toward me. My heart was thumping, my breath quickened.
"Luke . ." I murmured, and he stopped, got hold of himself, and sat back quickly. He looked flustered for a moment and then he stood up.
"I'll get the walker. You're going to walk again without difficulty. You'll do it for us," he added, putting a higher value on my efforts. I grasped out quickly for his hand to make him pause.
"Luke, don't expect too much. I've just begun to feel my legs again."
He simply smiled down at me as if he knew things I didn't. I clutched the old pink ribbon to my breast and waited for him to unfold the walker and set it up in front of me. Then he stood back, crossing his arms just under his chest.
I reached up and took hold of the top of the walker. Then I pulled and pressed until my body began to lift from the bench. My legs wobbled but gradually straightened until I was in a standing position. My arms trembled. Luke looked concerned and took a step toward me.
"No. Just stay back. I've got to do it all myself."
A large cloud blocked out the sun and a shadow dropped over the gazebo like a great, dark curtain, shutting out the surrounding world. Even though it was warm, a chill traveled up the backs of my legs and into my spine. I struggled to get my back straighter and straighter and then I concentrated on moving my right foot forward. I felt the grimace of effort in my face as my lips tightened.
"Walk, Annie, walk," Luke urged.
I inched my foot forward with all my will until it completed a step. My heart pounded with joy and optimism and then I started my left leg. It was like reaching for something just an inch or two beyond you, like the gold ring on a merry-go-round, but stretching yourself and struggling until you went beyond the limits of space and strength and the tips of your fingers first grazed the gold ring and then seized it. My left foot found a step. The wheels of the walker turned. I opened my eyes. The cloud moved on and the sunlight lifted the curtain from the gazebo. I felt as if a great weight had been taken away from me, freeing me, ripping off the bindings around my knees and ankles. My legs seemed so much stronger, so much more themselves.
I smiled and moved my right foot again, this time farther. My left followed suit. The walker's wheels
turned more. Each succeeding step was faster and longer. My back straightened even more, until I felt I was truly standing on my own power.
I was doing it!
"I'm standing, Luke! I'm standing! It's not just the walker!"
"Oh, Annie, I knew you would!"
I grew very serious and lifted my right hand from the walker.
"Wait, Annie. Not too much in one day."
"No, Luke. I can do it. I must do it!"
He started toward me, but I put my hand up. "Don't help me."
"If you fall, my mother will shoot me."
"I won't fall."
Using only my left hand now, I moved the walker ahead so that I was nearly independent of it. When the walker was far enough from me, I straightened completely and then lifted my left hand from it.
I was standing on my own! Completely on my own! My legs were strong enough to hold me up again.
Luke held out his hands, only half a foot or so from. me.
"Annie."
I closed my eyes and then opened them quickly. I was still clutching the pink ribbon in my left hand. Without further hesitation, I lifted my right foot and shuffled it forward a few inches and then followed with my left. Luke's face broke out into a wide, wonderful smile, and so did mine. I took a longer step and then another before my legs gave out with the effort, but before I had a chance to sink to the floor, Luke's arms were around my waist and he was holding me tightly to him and kissing my cheek.
"Annie, you did it! You did it!"
I was so happy I started kissing his face, too.
And then suddenly our lips met. The encounter was so quick and unexpected, neither of us pulled back before our lips pressed passionately together. Luke lifted his face from mine first.
"Annie . . I . . ." He looked so guilty. We had passed through that veil between us, crossed that border, violated the prohibition.
"It's all right. I'm happy we kissed," I asserted. He still held me tightly to him.
And then we both spun around at the sound of Drake's voice.
"Annie!" he screamed. His eyes were wide with shock and anger. I reached back to clutch the walker and pull myself from Luke's embrace. Drake ran up to the gazebo, his shoulders rising along with the fury in his face. He turned on Luke.
"I interrupted an important business trip when I heard what happened at Farthy, and now I'm glad that I did. Seems I got here just in time."
"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Luke demanded. They faced each other, their fists clenched.
"You and that hillbilly mother of yours had no right . . . no right to take Annie from Farthy, where she was getting the best medical treatment, where she had constant care, day and night, where she had the best equipment, where--"
"Drake, please," I interrupted. "You don't know what went on. I tried to tell you, but you didn't listen. Let me tell you now."
"Tell me what?" He sneered. I'd never seen him so angry. "How you wanted to come back here to play your . . . your fantasy games with him? I thought it was wrong then, and I especially think it's wrong now. But you're not to blame, Annie," he said, turning from me. "You've been taken advantage of in your weakened state."
"No, Drake. That's not true," I cried, but he stared hatefully at Luke, his dark eyes blazing like lit coals.
"I oughta break your neck once in for all," he said, his lips curling up and twisting his face into an ugly grimace, a grimace of hate.
"Maybe you should try once and for all," Luke responded, his face hard, his lips taut, his eyes small and determined, his whole face beet red.
"No, Luke! Drake, listen! I called Luke. I wanted him to take me from Farthy."
They stepped toward one another, both seemingly deaf to my cries.
"You don't surprise me now. I knew you'd turn out bad. How could you be anything else, living with a mother like that? It's rubbed off and it's finally showing itself. I saw the way you looked at Annie all these years."
"Drake, stop!" I was terrified over what he would say next.
"Well, it's going to end right here. It's going to--"
"Drake! Luke!" I pleaded.
The gazebo suddenly spun like a merry-goround. The railing began to turn and turn. The walker began to roll on its own, moving too quickly for me to keep my balance. I felt myself spinning and dropped my head back. Before either of them got to me, I fell to the floor and all went dark.
I awoke in my own bed, a cold, damp washcloth on my forehead. Aunt Fanny and Mrs. Avery were standing beside me. Luke was seated in one corner and Drake was in the other, both sulking.
"I've sent fer Doc Williams. He'll be here any moment. Ya did too much, didn't ya? I knowed it would happen."
Both Luke and Drake turned to look at me, both looking sorry.
"I'm all right."
"We'll let the doctor decide that, Annie," Luke said softly.
Mrs. Avery replaced the washcloth with a colder, damper one. Then Doc Williams arrived and everyone but he and Aunt Fanny stepped out of the room.
He checked my pulse, blood pressure, and listened to my heart. Then he sat back and shook his head, looking from Aunt Fanny to me, his bushy eyebrows lifted like two exclamation points.
"What happened here?"
"I guess she done too much, huh, Doc? We got her outta bed, let her eat at the table. Then Luke wheeled her down to the beauty parlor and she was there a long time, and then she come back and he and her done some exercise on the gazebo with her walker."
"Did you push yourself too hard, Annie? I warned you about that." He shook his short, thick right forefinger at me in mock chastisement.
"I don't think so, Dr. Williams."
"Uh-huh. Well, your pulse and heartbeat are fine. Blood pressure is a little high, but not terrible. Just rest now and don't try to do too much. I finally got your Boston doctor on the phone and he promised to send your reports immediately. From what he told me, though, I think you're going to make a full recovery. It's just a matter of time."
"I know I will, Dr. Williams. Now I feel sure of it."
"Good, Annie." He stood up and turned to Aunt Fanny. "She'll be all right. Let her go easy for a few days."
"You hear the doctor?" Aunt Fanny warned. "Yes, Aunt Fanny. Thank you, Dr. Williams."
"I'll stop by again soon." He smiled
reassuringly and patted my hand.
Aunt Fanny started out with him.
"Aunt Fanny, please send Drake in. I must talk to him. It's all right for me to do that now, isn't it, Doctor?"
"Sure. Just as long as you rest, too."
Drake returned, his face glum, the anger still burning under the surface.
"Please, Drake, come sit here and let me talk to you Dr. Williams said it was all right"
He remained in the doorway. Then he took a few steps forward, but I saw he wasn't going to sit down and listen calmly.
"You can't listen to what old Doc Williams says. The man is just a small-town doctor, Annie. Let me pack your things and take you back to Farthy."
"Drake, the last time you visited me at Farthy, you promised to help me leave if I insisted."
"I just said that because you were so
overwrought from the medicine and all."
"Drake, it wasn't the medicine. The horror began with Mrs. Broadfield. She was a cruel, domineering woman. She thought I was some spoiled rich girl, and she resents rich people. She was terrible to me."
"So . . Tony got rid of her, didn't he? He was about to get another nurse. That wasn't a problem."
"Tony is a problem, Drake. Tony was a big problem. He never wanted me to recuperate."
"What? Now listen--"
"No, you listen, please. Tony wanted me to be there forever. He wanted to imprison me in his dreams, in his twisted fantasies. He was deliberately not letting me do the things I should have been doing so I could get well. He was prolonging my invalid state deliberately so he could keep me in that bed, dependent upon him forever. Why, after I showed him I could get up
and out of bed myself, he removed my wheelchair and walker from the room so I couldn't leave!"
"I'm sure he just didn't want you doing too much and hurting your chances for a full
recuperation." He sat back smiling. "Sick people are often impatient with their recoveries and--"
"No, Drake, he wasn't thinking about my welfare. He was thinking only of himself."
"Now, Annie," he said, leaning forward, "I know--"
"He's not well!" I raised my voice and widened my eyes, and the abruptness and force with which I came back at him stopped him cold for a moment. "Drake, he . . . he came to me at night thinking I was my grandmother Leigh when Leigh was a young girl."
"What?" An incredulous smile took form in his face.
"Yes, he wanted to . . to make love to me, thinking I was Leigh."
"Oh, Annie, surely your medicine must have created that ridiculous hallucination. Why Tony's . . . just a lonely old man. And that was why I came directly here," he said, taking on a reasonable tone. "You broke his heart when you let Fanny and Luke sweep you away from Farthy. He was practically crying to me over the phone. He doesn't understand why you left without saying good-bye to him. 'I did all I could for her,' he told me, 'and I would do more, do whatever she wants. I was rebuilding Farthy.' "
"Oh, Drake, why are you so blind to what's happening?"
"I'm not blind. I see a kindly old man eager to help us, giving me an important position . . . promising me the management of the Willies Toy factory here, as well as many other projects . . . someone who did all he could for you medically, willing to spend any amount to help you to get better. That's what I see.
"But I also see my slut half sister filling you with lies just to get you back here so she can live in this house and enjoy all of what Logan and Heaven had, and my perverted nephew eagerly pretending to be so self-sacrificing just so he can . . . can dominate your time.
He didn't waste any time getting you to the gazebo. Your magic place," he added with a sneer.
"He's not perverted, Drake. And I wanted to go there, to the gazebo. I believe in it."
"Annie, you're so vulnerable now . weak, your emotions naked . . anyone can take advantage of you . Fanny filling you with ridiculous lies, Luke hovering over you, touching you . . that's why I want you to return to Farthy where you'll be safe and--"