“You’re a delight, Lorelei. You are, in fact, one of the brightest little girls I’ve ever had. You were precocious at the age of two. I see how well you do in school, and I see how curious you are about everything. Just be patient and never frustrated with time or the care taken to educate you properly, okay?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll fall asleep,” he said. “Mrs. Fennel always includes something in our food to help my little girls sleep and grow more beautiful.”
“What does she put…”
He put his finger on my lips. “Don’t ask for details. Just enjoy,” he said, then leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. The aroma of his cologne filled my nostrils and made my head spin. Like almost everything in a bottle in this house, it was surely something Mrs. Fennel had prepared, some magical scent that would stir any woman’s libido. Where did she learn how to do all these things? Where did she live when she was my age? Who taught her all that she knew?
Sometimes I wondered if she was ever my age. Maybe she was created in some laboratory like Frankenstein’s monster. I knew I could think these thoughts, wonder, but never voice them unless Ava voiced them first. Daddy certainly wouldn’t. It was because of how muc
h he obviously respected and depended on Mrs. Fennel that I did all I could not to cross her. It certainly wasn’t because I had great affection for her. I did everything for Daddy. Sometimes I thought I was breathing only for Daddy.
He rose slowly. I held his hand until it slipped softly from mine. His smile fell on me like soft, warm rain, and I snuggled in my blanket. I watched him leave the room. He slipped out as if he walked on the darkness itself and softly closed my door.
There was no moonlight tonight, but the sky was clear and the stars as brilliant as a full moon. I listened to the breeze licking at the windows and closed my eyes. He was right; I did fall asleep. But sometime later, I woke with a shudder and listened. It sounded like howling right outside my window. It didn’t stop, so I rose slowly and went to my window.
When I looked out, I saw what looked like dozens of young men. They were all looking at my window, and they weren’t just howling some horrendous sound.
They were howling my name, stretching it out as if the sound of it were caught on the wind. Their faces were pale yellow, their eyes black, tears spilling out and down their cheeks like streams of tar.
“Loreleiiiiiiiii.”
In unison, they all reached out toward me and then took a step closer, slowly turning their heads to show me their opened necks, as if they hoped I would do something about it, something to help them.
I gasped and quickly stepped back from the window, my heart pounding. After I caught my breath, I waited and listened hard. The howling stopped. Slowly, I returned to the window and looked out again.
There were no young men there.
I looked as far to the right and the left as I could, but there were just shadows, twisting and turning as if the wind were toying with them.
Was I in a dream? Was I walking in my sleep? Was my imagination running wild?
I hurried back into bed and listened for the howling until I was too sleepy to keep my eyes or my ears open.
I remembered it all when I awoke, but I dared not mention it to anyone.
It was another mystery, another secret to add to the dozens and dozens in this family. Only for now, it would be my own.
3
Best Daughter
Of course, I knew why I had that nightmare. Its origin went back years. It had been festering inside me like a bad boil, and its time to burst had come, perhaps because I was so close now, so close to being Daddy’s best daughter.
There was never a doubt that I was not supposed to learn the first and most important secret of all as early as I had learned it. From what I understood, none of Daddy’s daughters had ever learned it as early as I had. No one had time to prepare me for it as his other daughters had been prepared, and later, because this happened when it did, Daddy was furious at Brianna, blaming her. It was practically the only time I could remember him losing his temper and raging at any one of us until then. I think it was because of what happened that night that Brianna was really not as friendly or as loving as a sister should be toward me. She blamed me for Daddy’s reprimanding her so vehemently. I know it frightened her as much as it frightened me.
I was only four at the time. We were living in upstate New York. Brianna was assigned to tutor me, give me what was called preschooling. I remember she wasn’t happy about having to do that, but making progress with me pleased Daddy so much that she tried very hard. She didn’t have to try that hard, actually. I was always a good student, eager to learn new things even at that young age. But I saw how important it was for her to take credit, to collect Daddy’s compliments and approval. I saw the pleasure it gave her, and I knew that pleasure was awaiting me.
Back then, she would have me recite math problems and solutions, word meanings, and scientific information before we all sat to have dinner. She gave me piano lessons and taught me songs to sing and play. She wanted me to look at her when I recited something or sang, but I always looked at Daddy, for it was his approval I sought, not hers.
Ava would sit with a smirk on her face, obviously displeased with all the attention Daddy was giving to me. I could almost hear her thinking, What about me? What about my singing, my playing the violin? The problem was that she didn’t have as good a singing voice as I had even at four years old. She didn’t play the violin with as much passion and enthusiasm as I had playing the piano. I had the impression, even at that young age, that Brianna didn’t sing or play the piano as well as I did when she was my age, either. Even back then, I had the suspicion, the hope, that Daddy might love me better than any of his other daughters because he saw that I was truly the special one in our family.
I wasn’t all that surprised at what Daddy had said about sibling rivalry the night I wore the new dress. I always had the feeling that he encouraged it. He wanted us to be jealous of each other and especially covet the compliments he might give to one or the other of us. It was truly as if we were being taught to resent, to dislike, even to hate each other, just so we would be more competitive when it came to gaining his compliments, but then he would have his warm family moments during which he would remind Ava and me that we were sisters and had to look out for each other.
“You’re both very special,” he would say. “No one will appreciate you out there as much as you will appreciate each other. Never forget that. In the end, you must be willing to die for each other.”
I saw the way Ava looked at me. Fatal sacrifice? Not hardly, her eyes said.