Darkest Hour (9 page)

One night while I was taking a bath, Mamma came by and noticed my womanly development had begun.

"Oh dear!" she exclaimed with a smile, "you're bosom is blossoming much earlier than mine did. We're going to have to buy you some new undergarments, Lillian."

I felt myself blush all over, especially when Mamma rattled on and on about how my figure would literally devastate the young men who gazed upon me. They would all look at me with that intensity "that makes you think they want to memorize every detail of your face and figure." Mamma loved to apply the words and lessons in her romance novels to our everyday lives, each and every time an opportunity presented itself.

Less than a year later, I had my first period. No one told me what to expect. Emily and I were returning from school one late spring day. It was already as warm as summer, so Emily and I wore nothing more than our dresses. Fortunately, we had just parted company with the Thompson twins and Niles, otherwise I would have been embarrassed to death. Without any warning, I was suddenly gripped with a terrible cramp. The pain was so severe, I clutched my stomach and bent over.

Emily, annoyed that she had to pause, spun around and grimaced with disgust as I squatted on a patch of grass and moaned. She took a few steps toward me and put her hands on her knobby hips, her elbows bent so sharply against her thin skin, I thought the bones would tear through.

"What's wrong with you?" she demanded.

"I don't know, Emily. It hurts so much." Another spasm came sharply and I moaned again.

"Stop that!" Emily cried. "You're acting like a butchered pig."

"I can't help it," I moaned, the tears streaming down my face. Emily grimaced unsympathetically.

"Get up and walk," she commanded. I tried to straighten myself up, but I couldn't.

"I can't."

"I'll just leave you here," she threatened. She thought a moment. "It's probably something you ate. Did you take a bite of Niles Thompson's green apple as usual?" she asked. I always sensed Emily was watching Niles and me during lunch recess.

"No, not today," I said.

"I'm sure you're lying as usual. Well," she said, starting to turn, "I can't . . ."

I felt between my legs because there was a strange, warm wetness there and brought my fingers up to see the blood. This time, my howl could surely have been heard by the workers on The Meadows, even though we still had the best part of a mile to go.

"Something terrible is happening to me!" I cried, and turned my palm so Emily could see the blood. She stared a moment, her eyes growing wider and wider, her long, thin mouth twisting like a rubber band into her cheek.

"You're having your time!" she screamed, realizing where my hand had been and why I had such pain. She pointed her finger at me accusingly. "You're having your time."

I shook my head. I had no idea what she meant, nor why that made her so angry.

"It's too soon." She backed away from me as if I had come down with scarlet fever or the measles. "It's too soon," she repeated. "You're a daughter of Satan, for sure."

"No, I'm not. Emily, please, stop . . ."

She shook her head with disgust and turned away from me, mumbling one of her prayers as she started to walk on, taking longer and faster strides and leaving me terrified. I began to cry. When I checked again, the blood was still coming. I could see it streaming down the inside of my leg. I howled with fear. The pain in my stomach hadn't eased any, but the sight of the blood took my mind off it long enough for me to stand. Sobbing hysterically, my body caught up in a tremor of shudders, one after the other, I took a step forward and then another and another. I never looked down at my leg, although I felt the blood slip into my stocking. Instead, I walked on, clutching my stomach. It wasn't until I was nearly at the house that I remembered I had left all my books and notebooks on the grass. That made me cry even harder.

Emily hadn't forewarned anyone. As usual, she had marched into the house and up the stairs to her room. Mamma didn't even realize I wasn't behind her. She was listening to the music on her wind-up Victrola and reading her newest novel when I opened the front door and wailed. It took a few moments for her to hear me and then she came rushing out.

"What is it now?" she cried. "I was just in the middle of a good part and . . ."

"Mamma," I wailed, "something's terrible wrong with me! It happened on the road. I got terrible cramps and then I started to bleed, but Emily ran off and left me there. I left all my books there, too!" I moaned.

Mamma came closer and saw the blood trickling down my leg.

"Oh dear me, dear me," she said, her right palm on her cheek. "You're having your time already."

I looked up at her in shock, my heart pounding.

"That's what Emily said." I rubbed the tears off my cheeks. "What does it mean?"

"It means," Mamma said with a sigh, "you're going to be a woman sooner than I expected. Come along, dear," she said, holding out her hand, "and we'll clean you up and get you prepared."

"But I left my books on the road, Mamma."

"I'll send Henry back for them. Don't worry. Let's take care of you, first," she insisted.

"I don't understand. It just happened to me . . . my stomach hurt and then I started bleeding. Am I sick?"

"It's a woman's sickness, Lillian dear. From now on," she said, taking my hand and telling me something that would leave me horrified, "you're going to have the same thing happen once a month, every month."

"Every month!" Even Eugenia didn't have the same terrible things happen each and every month. "Why, Mamma? What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing's wrong with you, dear. It happens to all women," she said. "Let's not dwell on it," she insisted with a sigh. "It's too unpleasant. I don't even like thinking about it. Whenever it happens, I pretend it hasn't," she continued. "I do what I have to do, of course, but I just don't pay any more attention to it than I have to."

"But it hurts so much, Mamma."

"Yes, I know," she said. "Sometimes, I have to stay in bed for the first few days."

Mamma did stay in bed from time to time. I had never given it much thought before, but now, I realized there was something of a regularity to her behavior. Papa seemed so impatient with her at those times and usually stayed away, finding it necessary to take one of his special business trips.

Upstairs in my room, Mamma gave me a quick little explanation as to why the pain and the bleeding meant I was entering womanhood. It terrified me even more to know that my body had changed in such a way as to make it possible for me to have a baby of my own. I had to know more about it, but any questions I asked, Mamma either ignored or grimaced after and pleaded for us not to talk about such dreadful things. Mamma introduced me to womanly protection and quickly ended our discussion.

But my curiosity had been aroused. I had to have more information, more answers. I went down to Papa's library, hoping to find something in his medical books. I did find a small discussion about a woman's reproduction system and I learned in more detail about what made the bleeding occur monthly. It was so shocking to have this just happen. I couldn't help but wonder what other surprises lay in waiting for me as I grew older and my body developed more and more.

Emily poked her head into the library and saw me on the floor, submerged in my reading. I was so involved, I didn't hear her step up to me.

"That's disgusting," she said, gazing down at the illustration of the female reproduction system. "But I'm not surprised you're looking at it."

"It is not disgusting. It's scientific information, just like in our books at school."

"It is not. That sort of thing wouldn't be in our school books," she replied with assurance.

"Well had to learn what was happening to me. You wouldn't help me," I snapped back. She glared down at me. From this angle on the floor, Emily looked even taller and leaner, her narrow facial features cut so sharply that she looked like she had been carved out of a slab of granite.

"Don't you know what it really means, why it happens to us?"

I shook my head and she folded her arms under her chest and lifted her face so her eyes gazed toward the ceiling.

"It's God's curse because of what Eve did in Paradise. From then on everything to do with childbearing and childbirth was made painful and distasteful." She shook her head and looked down at me again. "Why do you think the pain and the disgustingness has happened to you so early?" she asked, then answered her own question quickly. "Because you're exceptionally evil, you're a living curse yourself."

"No, I'm not," I said weakly, the tears misting over my eyes. She smiled.

"Every day another proof is shown," she said triumphantly. "This is just another. Mamma and Papa will come to realize it and send you off to live in a home for wayward girls someday," she threatened.

"They won't," I said without great confidence. What if Emily was right? She seemed to be right about everything else.

"Yes they will. They'll have to or else you'll bring one curse after another on us, one disaster after another. You'll see," she promised. She looked at the book again. "Maybe Papa will come in here and see you reading and looking at that disgusting stuff. Keep it up," she said, and spun around to march confidently out of the library. Her final words filled me with more dread. I closed the book quickly and placed it back in its space on the shelf. Then I retreated to my room to contemplate the horrible things Emily had spit down at me. What if she was right? I wondered. I couldn't help but wonder.

What if she was right?

My cramps remained so intense, I didn't want to go down to dinner, but Tottie came by with my books and notebooks to tell me Eugenia had been asking after me, wondering why I hadn't stopped in after school. The desire to see her gave me new strength and I went to her to explain. She lay there, as wide-eyed and as amazed as I had been, and listened. When I was finished, she shook her head and wondered aloud if it would ever happen to her.

"Mamma and the books I read said it happens to all of us," I said.

"It won't happen to me," she said prophetically. "My body will stay a little girl's body until I die."

"Don't say such terrible things," I cried.

"You sound just like Mamma," Eugenia said, smiling. I had to admit that I did, and for the first time since I had come home from school, I smiled.

"Well, I can't help but sound like her, when you say dark and dreary things."

Eugenia shrugged.

"From what you're telling me, Lillian, it doesn't sound so dark and dreary not to have my first period," she replied, and I had to laugh.

Leave it to Eugenia, I thought, to help me forget my own pain.

At dinner that night Papa wanted to know why I didn't have much of an appetite and why I looked so pale and sickly. Mamma told him I had begun my woman's ways and he turned and looked at me in the strangest way. It was as if he were seeing me for the first time. His dark eyes narrowed.

"She's going to be as beautiful as Violet," Mamma said with a sigh.

"Yes," Papa agreed, surprising me, "she is."

I glanced across the table at Emily. Her face had turned crimson. Papa didn't think I brought curses and disasters to The Meadows, I thought happily.

Emily realized that too. She bit down hard on her lower lip.

"Can I choose the Bible passage tonight, Papa?" she asked.

"Of course, go on, Emily," he said, folding his large hands on the table. Emily gazed at me and opened the book.

" 'And the Lord said, Who told thee that thou wast naked? Hast thou eaten of the tree, whereof I commanded thee that thou shouldest not eat?

" 'And the man said,' " Emily continued, lifting her eyes toward me, " 'the woman whom thou gayest to be with me, she gave me of the tree and I did eat.—' "

She looked at the Bible again and quickly read how God would punish the serpent. Then, in a louder, clearer voice she read, " 'Unto the woman the Lord said, I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception; in sorrow thou shalt bring forth children . . .' "

She closed the book and sat back, a look of satisfaction on her fade. Neither Mamma nor Papa spoke for a moment. Then Papa cleared his throat.

"Yes, well . . . very good, Emily." He bowed his head. "We thank thee Lord for these gifts."

He started to eat vigorously, pausing occasionally to glance at me, adding just a little more of confusion to what had been the strangest and most confusing day of my life.

The changes in me that followed were a great deal more subtle. My bosom continued to sprout a little bit at a time until Mamma remarked one day that I had cleavage.

"That little dark space between our breasts," she told me in a whisper, "fascinates menfolk."

She went on to tell me about a female character in one of her books who deliberately sought out ways to reveal and make the most of it. She wore undergarments that would lift and squeeze her breasts, "making them bulge and their cleavages deepen." The very thought of such a thing made my heart pound.

"The men talked about her behind her back and called her a tease," Mamma said. "You have to be careful from now on, Lillian, that you don't do anything to lead men to believe you're anything like that sort. Those are loose women who never win the respect of a decent man."

Suddenly, things that seemed so ordinary and insignificant took on new meaning and danger, and Emily assumed a new responsibility, even though I was sure no one had asked her to do so. She as much as told me so on the way to school one morning.

"Now that you've had your time," she declared, "I'm sure you'll do something to bring shame to our family. I'll be watching you."

"I will not shame our family," I snapped back. Another subtle change that had come over me was a greater sense of self-confidence. It was as if a wave of maturity had passed over me and left me years older than I had been. Emily wasn't going to terrify me anymore, I thought. But she simply smiled in that self-assured, arrogant way.

"Yes you will," she predicted. "The evil that's in you will take form every way and every chance it gets." She spun around and walked on in her usual self-righteous manner.

Of course, I understood that I was under a new spotlight, my every move, my every word judged and evaluated. I had to be sure that each and every button on my blouse was fastened securely. If I stood too closely to a boy, Emily's eyes widened with interest and followed my every gesture. She was just waiting to pounce, to see an arm graze an arm, a shoulder touch, or, God forbid, my bosom brush against some part of a boy's body, even accidentally in passing. Hardly a day ended without her accusing me of flirting. In her eyes, I either smiled too much or turned my shoulders too suggestively.

"It's a simple, easy step for you to go from being a Jonah to a Jezebel," she declared.

"It is not," I retorted, not even sure what she meant. But that night at dinner, she opened the Bible and chose her passage from I Kings. With her eyes fixed on me as furiously as always, she read.

" 'And it came to pass, as if it had been a light thing for him to walk in the sins of Jerobo-am the son of Ne-bat, that he took to wife Jez-e-bel, the daughter of Eth-ba-al king of the Zi-do-ni-ans, and went and served Ba-al, and worshipped him.' "

When she was finished reading, I caught Papa looking at me in a strange way again, only this time he looked like he was thinking Emily might be right, I might be the daughter of evil. I became very self-conscious and shifted my eyes away quickly.

With Emily hovering over me like a hawk about to leap, I found myself torn between the feelings that grew and developed, feelings that made me want to be with boys, especially Niles, and feelings of guilt. If Niles had liked my smile before, he seemed to be hypnotized by me now. I don't think I ever turned around in class without finding him gazing at me, his dark eyes soft and full of interest. I felt myself blush all over, the tingle that rested constantly just under my breasts spiraling turbulently through my stomach and down through my thighs. I thought everyone could see my feelings on my face for sure, and hid my eyes quickly after checking first to be sure Emily wasn't watching. Almost always, she was.

Now, on our walks home from school, Emily always lingered behind so as to walk behind Niles and me and not ahead. The twins complained about her slow gait, but Emily ignored them or told them to just go on ahead. Of course, Niles felt Emily's eyes, too, and understood that he had to keep a respectable gap between us. If we exchanged books or papers, we had to be sure our fingers didn't touch in front of Emily.

One afternoon that spring, however, we were granted a respite from Emily's watchful eyes. Miss Walker asked her to remain after school to help her with some paperwork. Emily enjoyed the added responsibility and the sense of power and authority it gave her, so she quickly agreed.

"Be sure you go right home," she warned me at the door. She looked at Niles and the twins who waited for me. "And be sure you do nothing to bring shame to the Booths."

"I'm a Booth, too," I spit back at her. She smirked and turned away.

I was in a rage most of the walk home. The twins, in their usual hurry, walked more quickly than Niles and I did. Before long, they were out of sight. He and I had been practicing our Latin lesson, reciting conjugations back and forth when suddenly he stopped and looked toward a pathway they went off to the right. We were very close to the turnoff to his house.

"There is a great pond in here," he said. "It's fed by a small waterfall and the water is so clear, you can see the fish swimming in schools. Would you like to see it? It's only a little way in," he said, and then he added, "It's like my own secret place. When I was little, I used to think it was a magical place. I still do," he confessed and shifted his eyes away shyly.

I couldn't help but smile. Niles wanted to share something secret with me. I was sure he had never told another soul, not even his sisters, how he felt about the pond. I was both flattered and excited by his trust in me.

"If it's really only a little way in," I said. "I've got to get home."

"It is," he promised. "Come on." With a bold move, he reached out and took my hand. Then he charged of the road, tugging me along quickly. I laughed and protested, but he kept trotting until suddenly, just as he had promised, we came upon a small pond, hidden in the woods. We stood gazing across the water at the waterfall. A crow swooped down from a tree and glided across. The bushes and grass around the pond looked greener, plusher than everywhere else, and the water was uniquely clear. I could see the schools of small fish moving with such synchronization that they looked like they had rehearsed an underwater ballet. A large bullfrog on a half-submerged log gazed at us and then croaked.

"Oh Niles," I said. "You were right. This is a magical place!'

"I thought you'd like it," he said, smiling. He was still holding my hand. "I always come here when something makes me sad and in moments, I feel happy again. And you know what," he said, "if you want to make a wish for something, just kneel down, put the tips of your fingers into the water, close your eyes and wish."

"Really?"