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Authors: Anne Rice

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BOOK: Blackwood Farm
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“I turned, still trembling so badly that I could scarcely stand upright, and I saw the inevitable lights in Aunt Queen's window. It was the lurid flare of the television.

“I embraced Goblin and then told him we must go to Aunt Queen. I was crazed with excitement.

“I rushed into the kitchen, across the back hall, and banged on her door. I found her in her chaise lounge as usual with her champagne, and some champagne sherbert, concluding the marathon drinking bout that had begun at dinner. Jasmine was fast asleep under the covers.
The Scarlet Empress
with Marlene Dietrich was on TV.

“ ‘Listen to me,' I said, pulling up a chair. ‘I know I'm fast losing my reputation with you as a sane person.'

“I pulled out my cotton handkerchief and mopped the sweat from my face.

“ ‘That's quite all right,' she rejoined. ‘You have a powerful reputation as my great-nephew.'

“ ‘The stranger attacked again. It was just outside. He got me in a choke hold.'

“ ‘Good Lord, Jasmine—.'

“ ‘No, wait, don't call anyone. He's gone, but before he left he told me just what he wanted. He made a list of demands, all having to do with the refurbishing of the Hermitage, and he proposed that after the renovation we share the place—that he would use it by night and I would use it by day. And if I didn't agree to his plan he'd kill me.'

“She was aghast. She said nothing. Her small blue eyes gazed fixedly into mine.

“ ‘But Aunt Queen, this is the strange part—not that he crept onto our land, not that he made the floodlights go off on the west side of the property, not that he got me in a choke hold—all that's normal stuff more or less. It's what he wants done to the building!'

“ ‘What do you mean?'

“ ‘The refurbishing. It's all precisely what I want! It's as though he read it in my mind. He did read my mind. The electricity, the new marble floors, the glassed-in windows, the new bronze stairs inside. He asked for nothing that I hadn't already thought of. I'd even mentioned it to you, mentioned it to the men, that they should remember the route to the place because I wanted to put in electricity. He read my mind, I tell you. He played with me on it. The creature's not human. He's some sort of spirit or ghost like Goblin. Only he's a different species, Aunt Queen, and I have to go to Mona, because Mona will know and so will Stirling Oliver.'

“ ‘Quinn, stop, be still!' she said. ‘You're raving! You're in a tirade. Jasmine, wake up.'

“ ‘Don't bring her into this, she'll be a nuisance,' I said.

“Jasmine was already awake and sitting there silently passing judgment.

“ ‘I'm going up to write out a complete plan for the renovations, then I'm going to rest before I go to Mona,' I said.

“ ‘Darling, it's midnight. You must talk to me before you leave to see Mona,' said Aunt Queen.

“ ‘Vow to me that you'll allocate the funds for the Hermitage. It's nothing compared to the money we spend all the time on Blackwood Manor. Oh, I can't wait to see the Hermitage redone. But then I myself have the money, don't I? I forgot that. I can afford it. How amazing.'

“ ‘And this splendid reinvention of a place you mean to share with a man who dumps bodies to alligators?' she responded.

“ ‘Maybe I was wrong. Maybe something else was happening. I only know that it won't hurt to carry out my own scheme for renovations and now he's no obstacle, don't you see? An hour ago he was a giant stumbling block to all I dreamt of for the Hermitage. He was an invader. Now he's part of the scheme. He asked for nothing that I didn't want already. Aunt Queen, he watches us. He knows you walk around the house in the morning. You need the guards with you. He's cunning.'

“The expression on her face was dreadful. I think I had taken all the bubbles out of the champagne and all the alcohol out of it also. Sober and miserable, she stared at me. Then she slowly ate a spoonful of sherbert as though it were the only thing keeping her alive.

“ ‘Oh, my darling boy,' she said. ‘Jasmine, are you listening?'

“ ‘How could I not listen?' said Jasmine. ‘Someday, when I'm old and gray, we'll have Quinn's portrait on the wall, and I'll be shuffling in front of the tourists talking about how he disappeared into the swamp and never came back—.'

“ ‘Jasmine, stop it!' I declared. ‘Aunt Queen, I'm going up. I'll kiss you good-bye before I take off to see Mona. I won't go till tomorrow afternoon. I know I can't drive in this condition. Besides, I have work to do.'

“Goblin and I ran upstairs together.

“I turned on the computer, in spite of Big Ramona sound asleep in the bed, and fortunately, as I clicked away, she never woke up.

“Goblin took his chair beside me. His face was blank, and he didn't try to touch the keyboard. He watched the screen as I worked.

“I didn't speak to him. He knew that I loved him. But he knew as well that I was yielding to the blandishments of an ever broadening world.

“Yes, I feared the stranger, but now the very devil had potently excited me. I was going mad.

“I wrote up a total renovation proposal for the Hermitage, going into detail as to how everything was to be done and spelling out the fine points as best I could, depending on my memory. I assumed Allen and the Shed Men would be doing everything, bringing in outside contractors only when they had to, so I went into greater detail possibly than they would need.

“I chose Roman red paint for the exterior, with dark green for the trim on the window and doors, and the finest veined white marble tile with black grout for the interior floors and for the front stairs descending to a broad terrace of white marble which should go down to the landing—and indeed, they should build a proper landing—and ordered a new bronze stairway to go between the stories and up to the cupola as well. This would be a gorgeous and costly retreat when I finished. But it would be more in keeping now with the strange gold tomb.

“As for the furnishings, I would order them from the same catalogs we used for Blackwood Manor, and of course I'd go over to Hurwitz Mintz in New Orleans to check their fine stock for choice pieces. I wanted torchère lamps everywhere and marble-top tables galore, as I had dreamed and as my strange and cunning partner had directed.

“When I thought this over, when I caught myself in the very act of calling him a partner, I paused and reflected, and I remembered that moment in the moonlight, and I knew what I had seen. There was no mistaking it. And then there came back to me the memory of his earlier attack on me, and of the letter he had written. And how he had just held me helpless only a short time ago. He had told me that he would kill me if I didn't follow his instructions. Did I believe him?

“Of course I hated him. And I feared him. But not enough.

“I should have been far more cautious. I should have backed away from the venture. I should have loathed him. But what I had told Aunt Queen was true. I wanted these renovations. I wanted this rebirth of the Hermitage, and one of my greatest problems had been solved, and that was how to deal with the mysterious stranger. I didn't have to battle the man for the place. We now had a partnership. And so I proceeded. Was I half in love with this monster? Was that the secret truth?

“I even remembered the man's advice to discourage hired workmen from going to the island, or rather to put a wreath of mystery about it, and I wrote this into the scheme.

“Lastly, I wrote about what must be done first—the cleaning and polishing of the mausoleum, and wrote out the solemn stricture that it must never be opened again.

“Finally I finished my written plan for the renovations.

“I printed out the requisite copies. Then I drew a clean design for a sumptuous granite bathroom to be built onto the back of the round Hermitage, occupying no more width than one window, and, copying this four times by means of my fax machine, I finished my official plans.

“At this point Goblin spoke: ‘Evil, Quinn,' he said. ‘Quinn Goblin will die in any direction.'

“I turned and looked at him and saw in his face a cold hard expression much as I'd often seen in him for the last few days. There was none of the old love or warmth or playfulness.

“ ‘How do you mean Quinn Goblin will die?' I asked. ‘We won't let that happen, old buddy. We won't. I'm pledging that to you. Can you understand my words? They come from my heart.'

“ ‘They all want you,' he replied in his monotone. ‘Mona wants you. Rebecca wants you. Aunt Queen wants you. Nash wants you. The stranger wants you. Any direction and Quinn Goblin dies.'

“ ‘We'll never be separated,' I said confidentially. ‘Perhaps they simply don't know how strong the bond is between us. But we know.'

“His expression remained cold, and then very slowly he dissolved.

“I had the distinct impression that he had dissolved of his own accord, not because he had to, and that he wanted me to know this, that he had withdrawn, and indeed I did feel the sting of it.

“ ‘It's true what I told you,' I said. ‘Only you can make us die, only you can divide us, and that would be by leaving me.'

“Whether he was near or far, whether he had heard what I said, I had no clue. And I was too madly excited to care about him.

“I hurried downstairs to place a copy of my scheme with Aunt Queen, who received the work agreeably enough, and then I went out to find Allen's mailbox in the shed, and I put a copy in there for him. Allen was the head of the craftsmen, as I've indicated. He'd see that the work was done. I put a copy in Clem's box as a courtesy, as Clem was actually the boss, and then I headed back to the house.

“As I crossed the back terrace a wave of giddiness came over me. And when I look back on that moment—when I remember the starlight and the warm air, and the light streaming out of the kitchen door to greet me, when I remember the feeling of charged excitement, I remember how very alive I felt, how in love with Mona and how foolishly excited I was by the mysterious stranger, and how I held myself to be invincible even in the face of strong evidence that I was not.

“Goblin's strange words meant nothing to me, absolutely nothing. In fact, I even suspected him of the most base jealousy, and all of his recent behavior seemed cause to doubt his love. Yes, I was drawing away from him. Yes, Goblin Quinn was going to die. It had to happen because Manhood was going to make it happen.

“And on the battlefield of Manhood, Mona was my Princess and the Mysterious Stranger a dark knight riding near me or even against me in a joust of which I was only just learning the rules.

“We would come to know each other, the dark knight and myself. We would talk together in the Hermitage. I would penetrate the illusion of the bodies being given over to the dark waters. I would discover that it had been a sort of dream. Anything so very bad had to be a dream. Take Rebecca for instance. Rebecca came in dreams.

“What more could I do for poor Rebecca? Of course I could not give her ‘a life for a life, a death for a death.'

“I went back upstairs. The windows were closed. The air-conditioning hummed. No sign of Goblin. I went to the window and looked down on the west lawn. I could see in the distance the dim white shapes of the cemetery in the moonlight. I said a prayer for Rebecca, that her soul was in Heaven with God.

“Very reluctantly I lay down to sleep beside Big Ramona, and when I woke it was to the murky dawn, and I had the heavy tasks of Manhood upon me.”

29

“MY FIRST MANLY TASK WAS
to get to the Hermitage, and I wasn't fool enough to think I could collect those rusted chains alone. I took Allen with me. The Shed Men always arrived around six o'clock, so they could go home at three, and when I told him where we were headed he was convivial and all but hopped into the pirogue with me.

“It was and still is Allen's nature to find everything in life pleasurable. He's a big roundly built man with neat white hair combed to one side, and silver-rimmed glasses and a perpetual smile; he plays Santa Claus at Christmas parties with huge success.

“Anyway, when we reached the Hermitage it wasn't seven o'clock yet, and we went to our task with the best tools we had and soon gathered up all the rusted chains, dragging them down the steps after us.

“I had to force myself to set out for home, so strong was my fascination with the Hermitage, but I knew I had much to do this day and so after a little walk around, during which time I imagined my renovations with great approval and success, we were in the pirogue again.

“When we got back to the landing and I told Allen we were going to bury the chain with Rebecca's remains he went into a state of sustained hilarity.

“Nevertheless, I dug deep in the soil. I found the casket. I made the hole very very wide. I wreathed the chains around the casket. And then Allen helped me fill in the dirt and the headstone was replaced, and as I said my prayers Allen prayed with me.

“I felt no shimmer of Rebecca. I felt no dizziness. But as I stood there in the still morning I felt sorrow for all the ghosts I had seen in the cemetery over the years and wondered if I was fated to be a roaming spirit after my death.

“Nothing like that had ever occurred to me before. But I thought of it now. I said another long silent prayer for Rebecca and then I whispered, ‘Go into the Light.'

“And so my first manly task had been completed.

“On to the second: of course Allen knew where Terry Sue lived, and to that spot we drove in the Mercedes. I told Allen I would go in alone, but even before entering the trailer I had a fair idea that Grady Breen, our attorney, had not exaggerated the state of ongoing disaster.

“There were the rusted ruined automobiles that he had described, one an old limousine and the other a pickup truck, neither with any tires, and two toddlers were roaming the yard, both with filthy faces and diapers.

“I knocked, then went in. Tucked at the very end of the trailer there was a voluptuous woman in the bed, a woman with the face of a big china doll, nursing a baby, and a little girl, perhaps ten years old and barefoot, was stirring a pot on the stove of what looked and smelled like grits. The little girl's arms were covered in bruises and she had a shy fearful manner to her. She had a pretty face and long black hair.

“The closeness of the place, the crowded damp feel of it was overwhelming. And so was the smell. I can best describe it as a mixture of urine, vomit and mildew. There might have been some rotten fruit in the recipe. And certainly there was excrement as well.

“ ‘I'm sorry to break in on you like this,' I said to the woman. I felt like a giant under the low ceiling. ‘Congratulations on your new baby.'

“ ‘Did you bring any money?' she asked. Her face stayed lovely—she looked like a Renaissance Madonna—but her voice was full of meanness, or maybe it was just practicality. ‘I'm broke and Charlie's walked out on me again,' she said. ‘My stitches are torn and I'm running a fever.'

“ ‘Yeah, I have plenty money,' I said. I reached into my pockets and took out the thousand dollars I'd taken out of the kitchen petty cash box. She was appropriately flabbergasted. She took it with her left hand and shoved it in a pocket under the covers. Or just under the covers.

“The baby was miraculous. I had never seen one so tiny, so nearly newborn. Its little wrinkly new hands were marvelous. It already had a head of dark wispy hair. My heart went out to it.

“ ‘Brittany, hurry up with that grits,' said the woman, ‘and go get those kids, I'm going to need you to walk into town and get some groceries.' She looked up at me. ‘You want some breakfast? This child cooks the best breakfast. Brittany, put on the bacon. Go get those kids.'

“ ‘I'll take her into town,' I said. ‘Where's Tommy?'

“ ‘Out in the woods,' she said in a sardonic tone. ‘Like he always is. Reading a picture book. I told him if he didn't take that book back to the store he was going to go to jail. They're going to come get him. He stole that book. And they knew he did. That woman at the store is as crazy as he is. They're going to come get him. And they ought to take her to jail too.'

“ ‘Does he have any other books?' I asked.

“ ‘Who's got money for books?' she asked. She was becoming incensed. ‘Look around this place. See that broken window? Look over there. Look real good. See that little girl? She don't talk. Brittany, give Bethany some grits. What happened to the coffee? Sit down here at the table. Just move that stuff. This child makes the best coffee. I'm telling you, I thank God every day that he sent me Brittany, and he sent her first. Brittany, go get Matthew and Jonas. I done told you twice to do that! This baby's wet. Hurry up about it. I don't have money for books. My washing machine's been broken for two months. Pops never gave me money for books.'

“ ‘All right,' I told her. ‘I'll be back.' I went out into the woods. It wasn't dense, just the spinally piney woods in these parts where there aren't many live oaks. I could see this little boy sitting on a log and he was reading.

“He had black curly hair like mine and he was lean yet well proportioned. He had sharp blue eyes when he looked at me. The book was about art. It was open to Van Gogh's
Starry Night.

“The boy had on a dirty polo shirt and jeans, and there was a huge black-and-blue mark on his face and one on his arm. On the back of his left hand was a visible burn.

“ ‘Did Charlie hit you?' I asked.

“He didn't answer me.

“ ‘Did he push your hand against the heater?' I asked.

“He didn't answer. He turned the page. A painting by Gauguin.

“I said, ‘Everything's going to change. I'm your kin. I'm Pops' grandson and you're Pops' son, you know that, don't you?'

“He didn't say anything. Obdurately he looked back at his book and again he turned the page. A painting by Seurat.

“I told him my name. I told him everything would be better. I was about to leave him when I said, ‘One day you'll get to go to Amsterdam to see Van Gogh's work in person.'

“ ‘I'd settle for New York,' he fired back, ‘so I could see all the Impressionists and the Expressionists at the Met.'

“I was stunned. His words were so clear, so crisp.

“ ‘You're some kind of genius,' I said.

“ ‘No, I'm not,' he said. ‘I just read a lot. I read all I wanted to read in the branch library and now I'm working on the Books-a-Million store in Mapleville, where I go to school. My favorite books are about art. Couple of times, Pops brought me books on art.'

“That was an astounding revelation. Pops and books on art. Where would Pops get books on art? What did Pops know of books on art? Yet he had done it for this bastard son whom he allowed to live in squalor in this place.

“Thank God I still had some more money, about fifty dollars. ‘Here,' I said. ‘This will work wonders at the bargain table. Don't steal anymore.'

“ ‘I never stole,' he said. ‘That's my mother talking. You listen to my mother and you'd think Charlie pushed my hand up against the heater.'

“ ‘Gotcha. The point is, you can buy some to own with that.'

“ ‘Who's your favorite painter in the whole world?' he asked.

“ ‘Hard to say,' I answered.

“ ‘Like if you could only save one painting from the Third World War,' he pushed, ‘what would it be?'

“ ‘Have to be Renaissance. Have to be a Madonna,' I replied, ‘but I'm not sure which one. Probably one by Botticelli, but then maybe Fra Filippo Lippi. But there are others. Just not sure.' I thought of the beautiful woman inside nursing the baby. I wanted to mention her in connection to a Madonna but I didn't.

“He nodded. ‘I'd save Dürer,' he said. ‘Salvador Mundi—you know, the face of Christ with the hair parted in the middle.'

“ ‘That's a good choice,' I said. ‘Maybe much better than mine.' I hesitated. We'd come a lot further in this conversation than I'd thought possible when I drove out here. ‘Listen to me,' I said. ‘Would you like to go off to a good school, a boarding school, you know, get a fine education, get out of here?'

“ ‘I can't leave Brittany,' he said. ‘Wouldn't be fair.'

“ ‘What about the others?'

“ ‘I don't know,' he answered. He sighed like a big man with a big burden. ‘My mother, she doesn't really want us,' he said. ‘She wasn't so bad when Brittany and I were little. But now that there's all the others, she hits us a lot. I have to get between her and Brittany and sometimes I can't do it. I don't let her hit the little ones at all. I just take the belt right out of her hand.'

“I was revolted, but I had no solution. I had all my life heard that there are real problems with the welfare system and with the foster care system, and I didn't know what to do.

“ ‘I understand,' I responded. ‘You can't leave them behind.'

“ ‘That's right,' he said. ‘I'm going to a better school now than Brittany but she's getting a good education. I can tell you that much. She does her homework and she's smart. I don't know the answer.'

“ ‘Well, listen to me,' I said. ‘I'm not going to forget about you. I'll come back with more money. Maybe I can make everything better for your mother and all of you, and she won't want to hit the children.'

“ ‘How would you do that?'

“ ‘Let me think on it, but believe me. I will be back. Good-bye, Uncle Tommy.'

“That brought the first smile out of him, and as I waved he waved back.

“Then he jumped off the log and he ran after me. I stopped, of course, to let him catch up.

“ ‘Hey, do you believe in the lost kingdom of Atlantis?' he asked.

“ ‘Well, I do believe it's lost, but I don't know if I believe it's real,' I said.

“He laughed a real belly laugh.

“ ‘What do you think, Tommy? Do you believe in it?'

“He nodded. ‘I hope to find the ruins actually,' he said. ‘I want to lead a party to find it. You know, an underwater expedition.'

“ ‘Sounds wonderful,' I said. ‘We'll talk about it as soon as I have time. I've got to go to work now.'

“ ‘Really? I thought you were so rich you didn't have to work or even go to school. That's what everybody says.'

“ ‘I mean work on my problems, Tommy, you know, special things that I feel ought to be done. I'll see you soon again. I promise. Can I give you a hug?' I leaned down and did it before he could commit himself. He was a solid, loving little creature. I really adored him.

“When I got to the car Allen was shaking his head.

“ ‘I hope you don't want us to clean up this place,' he said. ‘That septic tank in back is overflowing something awful.'

“ ‘So that's what that smell is,' I said. ‘I didn't know.'

“As soon as I reached Aunt Queen on the car phone I described the situation to her and asked if I might instruct Grady Breen to purchase a decent house for Terry Sue and her children. The title should be in our name with full insurance of every sort, and the woman would need furniture, appliances, new kitchenware, the works.

“ ‘You can't imagine this level of poverty,' I explained. ‘And this woman hits her children and I haven't begun to figure what to do about that except it might stop if the house and the conditions were improved. At least I hope so. As for Tommy, he's brilliant.' I filled in all the relevant details.

“Of course she wanted to call Grady herself. But I said it was something I had to do. It was a job of maturity and it was important.

“Within half a minute I had Grady on the phone. We agreed that the woman's house had to be in a moderately priced new development outside of Ruby River City, Autumn Leaves being the ideal tract according to Grady, with all new construction, new appliances, new pots and pans, new everything, and that she had to have a full-time cleaning woman and a full-time nanny for the children.

“Grady would become her personal financial advisor and financial guardian. We'd pay the taxes, insurance, utilities, television cable and hired help direct. And of course Terry Sue had to have an income, and we decided upon one that was about equal to what she would have earned as a secretary in Grady's office. We thought that would give her a real spiritual lift.

“ ‘It's foolproof,' I said. ‘The nanny and the cleaning woman will be working for you, and Terry Sue will have no call whatsoever to hit her kids. In front of those people she probably will be ashamed to hit her kids.'

“Meantime Brittany would switch over to the Catholic school that Tommy was attending, the only Catholic school in Mapleville and one with the cachet of a private prep school, and we'd get some medical help for the little girl Bethany, who didn't talk.

“As for the mysterious Charlie who had walked out of Terry Sue's life, according to Grady, he wasn't ‘all that bad by any stretch,' but the baby in Terry Sue's arms wasn't his and he was a bit disgusted that the real father hadn't stepped up, and who that might be was open to question.

“I advised Grady to have a DNA test done to determine if this baby had been fathered by Pops. I felt it was only right to do so. I had a deep suspicion that Pops was the father, that the baby had been conceived in the aftermath of Sweetheart's death, and that Charlie didn't know what to do about it.

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