“Go. You hear me?”
The kitten, disturbed by the noise, woke up and meowed. Dru quickly transferred him to John’s arms, whispered, “Two against one,” and ran around the side of the house.
Mr. Hyatt’s dignified black Cadillac was parked in the semicircular driveway and Mr. Hyatt was standing beside it polishing the rear-view mirror with his handkerchief. When he saw Dru coming toward him he put the handkerchief back in his pocket and acknowledged the child’s presence with a courteous little nod of his head.
Neither of them spoke for a long time. Then Dru said, “I won a cat.”
“That’s nice. It’s always pleasant to win something, especially a cat.”
“Right now it’s only a kitten. But someday it will be a cat.”
“All the better. You will have the joy of watching it grow up. Watching young creatures grow up has been one of the greatest pleasures of my life.” There was another silence, this one broken by the old man. “Annamay didn’t make it.”
“Mr. Hyatt—”
“What a pity. She would have become a lovely woman and borne beautiful children.”
“Not necessarily,” Dru said. “My mother used to be a lovely woman and she had me. A lot depends on the man.”
“Annamay might one day have married a real prince and lived in a real palace.”
“No, sir. She was going to marry Ben and he’s just an architect and lives in a crummy apartment down by the harbor, my mother says.”
“Annamay marry Ben? Dear me, no. He would never have waited for her. He’s quite ready for matrimony right now.”
“I know. He’s got women stashed all over town.”
“He does?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Who told you that?”
“My mother.”
“Then it’s probably correct.”
“Probably. She gets the dirt on everyone.”
“I see.” He stared up at the sky, blinked, wiped his eyes on the same handkerchief he’d used to clean the car’s rearview mirror. “And do you also admire Ben?”
“Oh sure. He’s like an uncle. I’ve had a whole string of uncles and Ben is more fun than any of them.” Dru paused, frowning. “Do you know what a funny uncle is?”
“I don’t believe I’ve heard the expression, no.”
“My friend Connie at school has one but she won’t talk about it. She just squizzles up her mouth and rolls her eyes. She always has tons of money to spend. She’s fourteen and goes steady and keeps a bottle of booze in her locker.”
“Booze?”
“Vodka.”
“Perhaps she simply fills an empty vodka bottle with water and keeps it in her locker to show off.”
“No. I tried some. It burned my throat. I’ll be going steady myself pretty soon. I like a boy called Kevin. He’s twelve and plays soccer and intends to be a mountain climber. He practices by climbing trees.”
“Do you like to climb trees also?”
Her face reddened and she crossed her arms on her chest as if to defend herself against an attack. “No. It makes you dizzy looking down.” She closed her eyes to such narrow slits that she could barely see Mr. Hyatt’s polished boots and the stain on her skirt where the kitten had dribbled milk. “I hate looking down from high places. Annamay and me, we never climbed trees, ever… I’d like to go now and look after my cat.”
“In a minute,” Mr. Hyatt said quietly. “Why are you nervous, Dru?”
“My cat needs me. And I hate thinking of looking down.”
“Then look up. There’s a bird in the oak tree over there, quite a large bird with beautiful blue feathers. What do you suppose it is?”
“I don’t suppose. I know what it is. A scrub jay. John tells me all about birds.” She sounded weary. “In addition to all the things I have to learn in school John makes me memorize birds and trees and flowers and rocks. Probably stars are next.”
“Stars will be good for you. You always have to look up for stars.”
Dru looked up, seeing only a watery sun half-hidden in a cloud bank. “There aren’t any stars.”
“There will be later.”
“Not tonight. It’s too foggy.”
“They will be there even if you don’t see them.”
“What’s the use of that, I’d like to know.”
For reasons he didn’t understand, she seemed to need comforting and he attempted to put a soothing hand on her shoulder, but she ducked out of reach. “I’ve got to go now and tend to my cat.”
“Let me touch you, child. I mean you no harm.”
“I’m not supposed to be touched by strangers.”
“Strangers? Why, I’m Annamay’s grandfather and you are her cousin and her very best friend.”
“Best. Not very best.”
“You shared each other’s secrets,” he said. “Didn’t you?”
“I guess so. Some.”
“And she showed you where there was a key to the palace door?”
“Yes, because I often left things inside and had to go back and get them and sometimes she wouldn’t be there to let me in.”
“And did you inform other people about the key?”
“No, sir. But she probably did. She was such a baby. She couldn’t keep secrets to herself, she always had to blab. She even told Kevin I loved him and he got shy and wouldn’t even look at me for ages.”
Again the old man wiped his eyes on the soiled handkerchief. “It was a mistake, that palace. Having a place of their own permits children to get into trouble. They need supervision.”
“We didn’t get into trouble. We didn’t do anything bad there.”
“It was a mistake. I gave Howard and Kay my opinion at the very beginning, but they were carried away by Ben’s ideas. He was so enthusiastic about it he was like a child himself. He built that palace for him, not for Annamay.”
“You can’t blame the palace for everything.”
“Children cannot handle such freedoms. They do things that—”
“She didn’t die in the palace,” Dru said roughly. “She isn’t even dead. She got up and walked away and she’s hiding somewhere, laughing at you grown-ups for burying a bunch of old animal bones.”
“Do you think she’ll be coming back?”
“Eventually. When she feels like it.”
“You believe that, Dru?”
“I said it, didn’t I?”
“But do you believe it?”
“It’s true. I don’t care what anyone else thinks, it’s true.”
A pair of tears squeezed out of his eyes and crawled down the crevices of his face. “You are deluded, Dru. You are a sick little girl.”
“And you’re a crazy old man.”
“Please don’t scream like that.”
“You’re a crazy old man. And I’m going to tell everyone you wanted me to take off my clothes and you offered to give me money. Only I wouldn’t take it because I don’t do bad things.”
“You wouldn’t tell such cruel lies.”
“Why not? You’re just a crazy old man and I hate you. I hate all of you.”
He watched her run up the front steps and into the house. Then he got back behind the wheel of his car and sat there motionless for a long time. His tears had turned to stone, leaving a terrible ache inside his eyes.
“She didn’t die… She got up and walked away and she’s hiding somewhere, laughing at you grown-ups for burying a bunch of old animal bones.”
Chapter Nine
Mr. Cassandra had finished work for the day. He left his tambourine and robe in his hotel room and went down to the bar on the ground floor where he held court nearly every evening. It wasn’t much of a court, eight stools and a young bartender who went to school during the day and yawned a great deal at night.