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Authors: V.C. Andrews

Runaways (38 page)

BOOK: Runaways
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“I'm taking you to Albuquerque where you will be housed until we return you to New York. I'm sure you'll be in a nice facility back there,” she said.

Crystal didn't laugh, but she gave her one of her “Don't be stupid” looks that made Raven and I smile.

We followed her out to the car. Raven decided to sit in the front and Crystal and I got into the back. First, we hugged and kissed Butterfly once more and then hugged and kissed Tommy and Anita.

“As soon as we can, we'll arrange for you to visit,” Tommy promised.

“Good. Crystal just can't wait to get back on a horse,” I said. He laughed.

Anita held Butterfly's hand and Butterfly clung to her fingers, the two of them looking as if they had found their reasons to be, to go on, to love and to cherish everything that was beautiful and good about the world.

We started away, none of us saying anything.

I was thinking about my real mother and what it
would feel like to hold her hand. I wondered what Raven and Crystal were thinking. I wished it was something happy. We had come too far to have sad thoughts. The sky ahead of us was too blue. Butterfly's finding a home gave us all renewed hope.

Could we, should we be optimistic? Do we dare?

Without warning, Crystal suddenly reached out and took my hand. We looked at each other and smiled.

“Didn't she look so happy?” she asked.

“Yes,” Raven said. She turned around, the tears streaming down her face, and she reached for us.

We held each other's hands.

“We're sisters,” Crystal began.

“We'll always be sisters,” Raven and I said.

“The Orphanteers!” we cried.

Our laughter rolled along with us toward our new promises.

Epilogue

T
odd and I flew from our new home in Illinois to Albuquerque. Raven came in from Los Angeles, where she had just signed her first record deal and had gotten a small part in a movie. Crystal had been accepted at Harvard on an early admissions scholarship program. She worked in the library and earned a little income on the side. We arranged it so we could all meet at the airport and rent one car together. We had never stopped staying in touch. Crystal liked to write long letters. I saved every one of mine, telling Todd that someday they would be valuable. They were beautifully written, detailed letters that made me feel I was right there beside her, learning, experiencing college life. Raven jotted lines on postcards, but most of the time she called, and I did the same. We all called Butterfly, even Crystal, because the sound of her voice was so important to us, as was the sound of ours to her.

Butterfly was graduating from college. In a month she would become a social worker. She wanted to use her life experience to help other young people.

We had seen each other twice before, but it had been nearly a year and a half between the last visit and now. A little over a year after Butterfly began to live with Tommy and Anita, Anita became pregnant and gave birth to a boy they named Steven. That was quickly replaced with the nickname Popeye because he loved spinach and he had very strong little arms for an infant. He was everything Annie hadn't been able to be, healthy. The evil curse had been broken, and we knew Anita believed it was because of the good energy Butterfly had brought with her to their lives.

Todd and I were the first to arrive. We were there when Raven landed and sauntered through the gate. She was more histrionic than ever, flamboyant as could be, dressed in a buttercup-yellow sexy sundress, her beautiful hair down, her high heels clicking. Apparently, she had made a hit with the flight engineer. He was at her side, practically begging her to change her ticket so she could be on his flight when she returned to Los Angeles.

“Brooke!” she cried when she saw me. She rushed into my arms and we hugged and swung about like teenagers. “Hi, Todd.” She gave him a rather intimate kiss that surprised him as well as me. “You guys look terrific,” she said, holding my arms out. “I thought you might be fat and pregnant by now.”

“No, Raven. We're not ready for that yet. I told you last time we spoke. We're expanding the garage, taking on wheel alignments.”

“Oh, right. Wheel alignments. I had my teeth
aligned,” she joked. She scooped her arms through ours and turned us around. “It's so important to keep yourself looking the best you can. No matter what they say, the truth is they're always looking for the prettiest faces and best shapes. Talent is second, not that I don't work on my talent.”

“Congratulations on the record contract,” I said.

“I'm at it night and day. I had a gig at a small nightclub in Hollywood. That's how I got this movie role,” she told us. “How long before Crystal arrives? I hate waiting. That's all I ever do anymore.”

Todd checked his watch.

“Thirty minutes,” he said, and we went for coffee.

“Can you believe our little Butterfly is graduating from college?” Raven asked when we sat at a table.

“Why not?” I said.

“Oh Brooke, you were always too . . . too realistic,” she said with a laugh. She paused and looked at us for a moment. “I'm glad you're happy, Brooke. I hope I find someone who makes me as happy.”

“You will, if you really want to, Raven,” I said. She smiled and then laughed.

“Yes, if I really want to. I can't think of that right now. I'm in entertainment.”

She rattles on with her Hollywood stories, speaking so quickly and so earnestly, I felt she was trying desperately to convince me she was happy with the decisions she had made. Finally, it was time to greet Crystal at her arrival gate. She was one of the first ten to get off, carrying her briefcase packed with her assignments. She really looked no different, still as unconcerned about her hair, wearing no
makeup, not even lipstick, her glasses thick as goggles.

We all hugged and kissed and Todd went off to arrange for our car. A short while later, we were on our way to the ranch, as we had come to know it.

“I may specialize in psychiatry,” Crystal told us.

“Why am I not surprised,” Raven quipped. “You were always analyzing everyone. You might as well make money doing it.”

Todd laughed, and once Raven saw she had an attentive audience, she continued with her jokes. Crystal and I looked at each other and smiled. Despite our ages and the passage of time, we were still acting like the Orphanteers, holding hands whenever we could.

Butterfly came bursting out the front door when we drove up. She was only another three inches taller, but her face had matured along with her now sweet little body. We held each other as if we were about to join and drive away the evil once again. Tommy and Anita came out, Anita holding the new baby, and we all went inside, Todd and Tommy bringing in our bags.

I thought we would never run out of things to say, things to tell each other. We were driven by a need to let each of us know every important or significant event that had occurred in our lives, no matter how small it might seem to someone else. Our chatter went right through lunch until it was time for Butterfly to prepare for graduation. We all dressed, Raven surprising everyone by stepping out wearing the Indian dress Anita's mother had made.

“You're really going to wear it?” I asked. Raven looked to Anita.

“I'd be very proud to wear it if Anita doesn't mind,” she said.

“Of course not. You look even more beautiful in it, Raven,” she said, which was all Raven had to hear, of course. The dress would have to be pried or burned off her after that. We piled into our car and followed Tommy, Anita, Butterfly and little Steven to the school, where an outdoor graduation ceremony had been prepared. I told Crystal I had butterflies in my stomach for Butterfly and she admitted to the same.

“You? Nervous?” Raven said. “I'll tell you what nervous is—preparing for an audition.”

“This is the same as an audition,” Crystal said with her eyes fixed and intent on Raven.

“Yes, it sure is,” Raven agreed. She calmed down when the music began, the “Pomp and Circumstance” that brought the graduates down the aisle to the stage. Our little Butterfly's golden curls were dazzling under her cap. I looked at Anita and Tommy and saw them holding hands, their faces full of pride.

When Butterfly's name was called, we all cheered. Little Steven's eyes were full of amusement. Anita had him wave at the stage. Butterfly looked out to us, her smile full of sunshine and life.

She hadn't had a seizure since she'd moved in with Tommy and Anita. She was truly like a flower transplanted into rich soil—healthy and strong, climbing toward her potential.

I guess we all were now, even Raven, who I felt sure would find her way to some happiness. Everyone in the audience cheered for their own when the class was finally introduced as graduates. I looked around at the happy fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers, relatives and friends.

A long time ago, for various reasons, our fathers and mothers had surrendered us to an impersonal
system and condemned us to an endless search for family. We tried. We hoped and prayed, but it didn't happen for a very long time to Butterfly and it never really happened to Raven, Crystal and me. What we discovered was that during the search itself we had found family; we had found each other.

For one precious moment on the grounds of a college in the Southwest, miles and miles from where we had all begun, we joined once more. We pressed our bodies against each other and clung to each other and drove away the darkness.

Once, when Crystal and I were alone at night, she looked out the window at the Lakewood House and said, “I used to dream about the mother I have never known. She had no face, of course, but in the dream I'm always holding her hand very tightly, and she's always trying to pull away. I fight as hard as I can to hold on, but finally I have to let go. I feel as if I am falling and then I wake up.” She turned to me and smiled.

“I always felt that way, even with my foster parents, and then I was brought here and the four of us were drawn together and suddenly . . . suddenly I stopped falling, Brooke.”

So did I, I thought.

I knew she was right, even then.

Our falling had come to an end.

Flowers in the Attic
wasn't the whole story . . .

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