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Authors: V. C. Andrews

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BOOK: Twisted Roots
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I
knew they tormented as well. Adrian was somewhat more nasal than Cade. so I could tell who it was immediately.
"Adrian, it's Hannah." I said.
"Hannah? Hannah who, please?" he replied. He loved to tease me about my last name.
"You know who I am. Adrian. Stop it,"
"Is this a prank call? Are you going to whisper obscenities into the phone?
If
you are, please begin. I have my tape recorder ready."
"Adrian.
I
have to speak to Daddy."
"Daddy? There is no one here by that name. We have a caddy, but he is at the golf course.""
"Stop it!" I shouted. "Stop what?"
"All right. Adrian. You've had your fun. Please let me speak to my father,"
"Your father? Isn't he that Cuban person?"
I
didn't answer.
"Hello? Is there anyone there?"
"I'm waiting,"
I
said.
"One moment, please." he said. He put me on hold and I know deliberately took his time. It was nearly two fall minutes before Daddy picked up. I was ready to give up and call again,
"Hannah?"
"Oh, Daddy. Adrian is so mean." "What did he do now?"
"He teased me and teased me and then left me holding the phone for so long."
"I'll speak to him." he said. "What's
happening?"
In the second or two it took for me to reply. I envisioned Heyden's dark eyes seizing on mine, and
I
saw the look of interest and wonder in his face.
"I can't come to dinner tomorrow night." 'Oh?
"Why not?"
"Well, you didn't sound absolutely definite about it. and I forgot and agreed to go on a date with a boy at my school. We're going to dinner and a movie."
"Really? Well, I don't blame you for choosing that over dinner with your old man." he said. "We'll get together next week some time. maybe."
"Really?"
"Sure. No problem," he said.
I
was waiting for him to ask me about Heyden, but he didn't ask a thing.
How different he was from Mommy when it came to me and my life, I thought. Did I like this better? I hated the way Mommy had begun to ask her questions, and yet I resented Daddy not taking an iota of interest or concern. For all he knew.
I
was going out with a serial killer.
"I'm sorry about it," I repeated.
"Nothing to be sorry about. Hannah. I'll call you. Have a good time." he added,
"Thank you," I said.
He hung up and the line went dead. I held the receiver as if it hadn't and imagined another conversation.
"Who's the boy? What's he like? Does your mother approve?Don't stay out too late. Be careful, Hannah. Don't give your heart away easily or cheaply. Let me tell you aboutmen. I know. I'm an expert when it comes to being a cad. Matter of fact, I'd like to see you tomorrow before you go out. We should talk. I'll take you for coffee and we'll sit on the patio. I'm sorry I haven't done this before. You've grown up so fast and right before my eyes. How beautiful you have become. I have a responsibility to fulfill. After all, I am your father,"
Where were these words? Were they lying dormant in his mind? Had he ever thought of saying them to me?
I hung up my phone and for a while just stood by my window, staring out at the sea and wondering if my grandmother Grace's fears weren't well founded.
Maybe there was a curse, a dark cloud just waiting to rain its misery down upon me. too.
Maybe it already had and I just didn't know it yet.

4
A Kiss of Love and Hope
.
I was disappointed Heyden didn't seek me out

first thing in the morning at school the next day. We didn't share a class until third period, but I had hoped-- even expected-- that he would be there to greet me. I looked for him in the usual places. but I didn't see him anywhere, and I was so distracted because of it, I didn't hear my English teacher. Mr. Mullens, call my name to answer a question about the play we were reading.
I
wasn't even aware that the whole class had turned to look at me.

"Well," Mr. Mullens said, moving down the row to my desk. "I've hypnotized another student, it seems."

The class laughter brought me back to earth. "Are you all right. Miss Eaton?"
"What? Yes."
I
said. "Why?"
"Oh, nothing. I was just wondering since I asked you a question twenty minutes ago and you continued to stare out the window as if neither I nor the rest of these students existed. In love, are you?" he continued,
"No!" I said sharply, tears piling under my lids. I blinked them back.
"Pity. I was hoping that was it rather than me or the material," he added, scowled at me, and turned away.
Massy Hewlett was practically bursting apart with glee.
"Now that you are back with the living, can you tell us why you think I ago is doing what he is doing to Othello?" Mr. Mullens asked me.
I threw my own eyeballs of tire at Massy and then reread my homework,
"I know there are a few possible reasons," I began. "He says Othello might have slept with his wife, but I don't think he really believes that. It's just an excuse."
"An excuse? For what?"
"For liking what he's doing. I think Shakespeare is telling us same people are just driven by pure evil and enjoy hurting other people. They don't need a whole lot of reason. They take pleasure in someone else's pain," I continued and then glanced at Massy again.
"Interesting," Mr, Mullens said. "Maybe you should continue daydreaming." he added.
There was some more tittering, but somehow I had deflected the brunt of his reprimand and escaped any more embarrassment. Afterward. I apologized to him.
"It's all right. I know you've had a great deal of new excitement in your life. Just hang in there," he advised and smiled at me. I was running an A in his class and I did enjoy it.
When period three began. I took my seat and watched the classroom door with anticipation. I thought Heyden might have just come late to school this morning. The students filed in, a few rushing to beat the bell, but Heyden did not enter, and his seat remained empty when the class began. Trying not to appear too interested. I asked Michael Scranton, the only boy I had seen speak with Heyden much, if he had seen him today. I tried to be as casual as I could,
'He didn't come to school," he said. "Probably just didn't feel like it." he added with a smirk. "Why? He awe you money or something?"
"No," I said.
"You're lucky," he replied and turned away as the teacher began.
Where was Heyden? Why didn't he come to school? He hadn't mentioned any other problem when we had spoken the night before. It troubled me all day. My girlfriends, urged an by Massy Hewlett. I'm sure, caught up with me at lunch and started to ask questions about him.
"I don't know any more about Heyden Reynolds than any of you do." I told Tina Olsen. "Why are you all asking me these questions?"
"You looked very cozy with him yesterday at lunch.' Brigitte said.
"So?"
"So we were just wondering, that's all. Why are you so defensive?" she asked.
"I'm not. I just... just don't know anything that would interest you."
"Bet you'd like to know more about him," Massy said, looking for a way to satisfy her thirst for revenge.
I shrugged. "Maybe. Now that you're making me think about him. maybe I would," I said.
"You're kidding," Natalie Alexander said. "You know where he lives and what he is."
"Where he lives isn't important, and last
I
looked, he was a human being."
"Yeah, right," she said. "Miss Liberal America." she added, and they all laughed.
I
wondered if they could see the smoke flowing out of my ears.
I
was that hot and angry. but I smiled back at them.
"Be careful. girls. Your snob-quotient is rising. You'll all start looking like you have flies in your noses."
I
said. It was an expression our old
housekeeper Betty Davis used to use.
"If you hang out with Heyden, you'll be the one swatting flies," Massy quipped.
They all laughed.
I
decided not to talk about Heyden anymore, and they quickly went on to other topics. After school, still concerned about him. I made an impulsive decision to drive to his house instead of returning to Joya Del Mar. I knew Mommy would be home from the hospital by now, but
I
thought another half hour or so wouldn't matter that much. When I pulled up in front of his home. I hesitated, wondering if I should have tried to call him first.
I
sat there, my heart thumping. Was
I
being too forward?
Finally
I
told myself I had come this far. It would be stupid to just drive off and go home without speaking to him and seeing if he was all right.
I
stepped out and walked to the front door. There was a buzzer button, but after I pressed it.
I
heard nothing and thought it might not work.
I
knocked and waited. A few moments later the door was pulled open so abruptly, the suction nearly pulled me inside. Elisha stood there glaring out at me.
"What do you want?" she demanded. She had her hair down and wore a thin, V-neck brown blouse and a short brown skirt. I also noticed she had a small nose ring, something I had not seen. She was barefoot and looked like she had been crying.
"I would like to see Heyden," I said.
"He locked himself in his room," she replied. "He hasn't even come out to eat. Maybe he's dead in there," she added.
"Why did he do that?"
"I don't know. He does lots of stupid things," she said. 'Where's your mother?"
"At work. Where's yours?" she fired back at me.
"Didn't you go to school today. either?" I asked her, ignoring her sarcasm.
"What do you care?"
"I work for the truancy department," I said, marching in and past her.
"Huh?"
"If you're not in school on Monday, we'll send a padded wagon for you."
I
told her,
She pulled in the corners of her lips.
"Very funny. You're as crazy as he is," she said, nodding toward Heyden's room. "You belong together."
She walked away and
I
went to Heyden's closed door and knocked gently.
"Heyden? It's Hannah. I missed you at school and came by to see how you were."
I
added.
I
heard nothing and the door remained closed. Suddenly his sister's angry and silly quip concerned me. Why had he locked himself up all day? Mommy once told me that suicidal people don't always appear suicidal, especially teenagers whose self-inflicted deaths surprise their own parents. Depression was a deeply seated and insidious disease that wormed its way into every remaining bright place, putting out the lights and leaving gloom and doom behind as it made its way toward your very heart. Could this be true for Heyden?
I
knocked harder.
"Heyden? Are you in there? Please answer me. Tell rue to go away or something, but answer me." I pleaded.
Elisha stepped up behind me. She had
a
lit cigarette in her hand. and she was smiling.
"Maybe you should have the padded wagon came far him instead of for me," she said. Then she went to her own room, closed the door, and started to play her rap music loudly.
"Heyden?" I knocked again. I was about to give up and go home when
I
heard the door being unlocked.
He stood there shirtless and barefoot in a pair of jeans.
"Are you sick?" I asked after a few moments of having him simply stand there and stare out at me.
"Yes, sick of life,' he muttered and turned away. He returned to his bed and flopped back to stare up at the ceiling. He put his hands behind his head.
I
remained in the doorway a moment and then entered. closing the door behind me softly.
"Did your sister do something else terrible?" I asked. He continued staring at the ceiling and not replying.
"I was worried about you when you didn't come to school. Heyden. You didn't say anything about any other problems when you and I spoke last night."
"I didn't know then what I would soon find out after we spoke," he said and sat up.
"What?" I asked. He remained quiet. "I'm not just trying to be nosy, Heyden. I am sincerely concerned."
He took a deep breath and turned to me.
"When my mother returned home from work. I told her what Elisha had done and what I had found. I knew nothing would come of that so I insisted she call my father to tell him. I wanted her to impress him with how out of control Elisha has become and how he should devote some time to her when he comes home. My mother kept ignoring me and when I started to shout at her, she finally turned to me and told me my father wasn't coming home this time, maybe never."
"Never?" I held my breath. "Why?"
"Apparently, he has gone off with someone from his quintet and told my mother he didn't want to remain in their marriage.
-
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"That's a funny way to put it, isn't it?" he asked. "Remain in their marriage? It makes it sound like a room, a place, rather than a relationship.
"Anyway, according to what
I
managed to pull out of her, my mother revealed that this had happened a little more than two weeks ago. Can you imagine keeping that a secret or, as in her case, ignoring it for more than two weeks? Maybe she thought that the next time he called, if he bothered calling again, he would not mention ending their marriage, or maybe she thought he would just show up and none of that conversation would matter. Who knows how she thinks!" he screamed and pounded his own legs.
The sight of someone inflicting such obvious pain on himself made me wince.
He laughed rather than show it had hurt.
"Imagine how stupid
I
must have looked insisting she talk to my father about my sister. Heyden who? Elisha who? he would probably say."
"I'm sorry. Heyden."
"Yeah, me. too. Actually," he continued, "I'm not sorry anymore. I'm out of sorry. I'm on to what's the difference?"
He sighed deeply and shook his head.
''She started to cry, of course, and moan about our troubles. I felt so bad
I
gave her the money I was going to use to buy the guitar today. With my father deserting us like this, we're not even going to be able to afford this rathole if I don't get more work. She doesn't make enough. My father's checks were important. I guess I'll have to drop out of school," he added.
"Oh. Heyden, no."
"Not no. yes. So anyway, you can see why I didn't bother to go to school today. Why pretend the inevitable isn't going to happen? Why be like my mother?"
"Maybe you can get some sort of student aid," I said.
He raised his eyebrows, "Yeah. What I can do is get a cheaper guitar and play on the corner for small change. I'll put a sign on the can that reads Student Aid."
"I know I have no right to encourage you. Heyden, but you can't give up."
"Who's giving up? Who even had a start?'" He studied me a moment and nodded, "I knew when I first entered the magnet school that I shouldn't. I shouldn't go where so many well-to-do students were going. I never expected to feel comfortable there.
I
let some do-gooder guidance counselor give me advice, pump me up with myself,
'But there
I
was among all of you in your expensive clothes, many driving your own cars, most taking private music lessons.
I
might as well have tried to go to school on the moon."
"That's not true. Heyden. There's no one there better than you."
"Not better, no but better of 'he said. "Hey, thanks for coming to find out why I didn't show up. I appreciate it, but now you can see why you're better off turning around and forgetting you ever met me, okay?" he said and lay back again.
"No," I said approaching him. "It's not okay."
I sat beside him on his bed. He kept his face turned away from me, but I leaned over and kissed him on the lips.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"You promised to take me on an official date and show me a good time. I'm collecting on that promise."
"Didn't you hear anything I just said?"
"Sorry. It went in one ear and out the other," I told him, beaming my smile down at him like a ray of sunshine.
"I'm not going to go look at that guitar, Hannah. It would be like torturing myself."
"No, it won't. If it's good, we'll get it. I'll loan you the money." "I wouldn't take money from you." he snapped indignantly.
"You won't be. I'm not giving you the money.
I
said
I
would lend it to you. Say at 7 percent interest annually. You'll pay me back from your first royalties."
He shook his head. "This isn't some cheap toy we're talking about. Hannah. It's three hundred dollars."
It wouldn't be worth it to lend you much less," I said. "How am I going to make any money
otherwise?"
"You have that kind of money on you?"
I
dug into my pocketbook and produced my charge card.
"My father gave it to me last year for my birthday. I have a five thousand-dollar limit.
I
haven't used it very much. I'll admit. but
I
have it to use when I need to or want to buy something special.
"My mother calls it his conscience money. Actually, because of her. I haven't used it very much, although recently she told me I should do it just for spite."
"I don't know," Heyden said, but there was the breakdown of some resistence in his tone of voice.
"I have another selfish reason. too."
I
said.
He raised his eyebrows. "You mean, besides making all that money on the loan?" he asked skeptically.
"Yes."
"What?"
"I thought if you play guitar so well and write a decent song or two. maybe I could sing it. Maybe you could play other songs as well, songs we could both sing."
"And be an act?"
"Maybe."
He sat up again, his sad, heavy eyes suddenly brightening, "You would do that?"
"I was more afraid you wouldn't want to." I said.
"Oh, yeah. right.
I
wouldn't want the prettiest girl in the school with the best singing voice to do a duet with me, especially singing some of my own songs."
"I'm not the prettiest girl in the school. Heyden, and I'm not saving I have the best voice."
"I said it." he insisted.
"Well...
I'm
not going to argue with you anymore," I said, and he laughed.
"I'm adding on 'best personality.' too." he said.
I
held my smile and he held his. It was magical. Some guardian angel had waved a wand over us, and the dark clouds, the heavy and morbid sounds in our ears, were gone.
"Hannah, you are terrific." he whispered and leaned forward to kiss me. It was a long kiss that grew more demanding every passing second. I could feel him trying to draw hope from me like some strange new vampire who fed not on blood, but on hope and love.

BOOK: Twisted Roots
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