Twisted Roots (DeBeers 3)

What I did know was that after my greatgrandmother's husband, a naval officer, was killed in a helicopter accident, she and my grandmother, who was about twelve at the time, moved to West Palm Beach, where my great-grandmother, Jackie Lee Houston, worked as a waitress to support herself and her daughter. One day she met Winston Montgom

ery, a very wealthy widower twenty-five years her senior. He fell in love with my great-grandmother. who I could tell from pictures was a very beautiful woman. He married her, bringing her to Joya del Mar, After Winston died, my great-grandmother foolishly fell in love with and married a Palm Beach playboy named Kirby Scott.

I knew that it was in this room that he had seduced his wife's daughter, my grandmother, who then became pregnant with Uncle Linden. Mommy had explained how my grandmother's attempt to keep her pregnancy a secret resulted in a great deal of confusion and bitterness for Uncle Linden.

I thought about this room from time to time, and from time to time, I took glimpses of it, but the onus of sin and the understanding that all of our family troubles originated with a single lustful act within the room kept it forbidden and even a little terrifying for me. If there was such a thing as a curse on our family, it lived and breathed within the walls of this scene of a sex crime, and if I spent too much time within it, or even touched anything inside the roam, that curse might leap into me and live under my heart, waiting far a chance to do its wicked work.

But at the moment I was so twisted and turned inside. I felt the need to be reckless, to challenge Fate itself. I glanced back at Mommy's bedroom, The door was still closed. Miguel was still with her I knew Mommy didn't want me wandering around in this room. It made her nervous, but defying her at the moment seemed not only satisfying, but delicious. She talked about the forbidden fruit, compared herself to Eve in Paradise. Here it was for me to taste, and taste I would.

I opened the door and stepped into the bedroom. Although it was never used far guests or otherwise. Lila. as Mrs. Davis before her, kept it neat and clean, although not dusted and vacuumed as often as the other rooms in the house. However, there were no cobwebs permitted here, no dust or grime. The linen was not changed, but with the curtains drawn, the lights off, nothing looked faded.

The dark pine four-poster bed had cream silk drapes dawn each post that paddled at the floor. The headboard was embossed with the figures of two terns facing each other but soaring, their heads and eyes lifted toward some heavenly destination, the tips of their wings touching each other. I once overheard Miguel tell Mommy that the artist who designed and constructed the headboard was suggesting that the inhabitants would find ecstasy within its sheets.

"They hardly found that,- Mommy told him in a tone of chastisement. I remember wondering why she was sa mad at him for saying something that sounded so innocent.

Whether by design or accident, all the artifacts in the room were sexually suggestive. There were small bronze statues of naked men and women on the dresser and nightstands, one with a man and a woman kissing passionately. There was a large statue of the goddess Diana, the huntress with her bow drawn against her naked bosom. It was set on a pedestal in the far right corner, but she was aiming at the bed.

The bed had three large pillows and two small ones set atop a crimson spread. When I was very little and had only quick glances of the room. I imagined the bed was soaked in blood. Now, standing and gazing at it in the light of the afternoon sun filtering through the curtains, it looked as if it had the folds of two bodies imprinted, two people who had just recently lain side by side on the bed. When I drew closer. I saw that wasn't so. It was just an illusion of shadows and light.

I had never opened the closet door, but turned to do so now. Surprisingly, I found a sheer nightgown still hanging an the inside of the door. The closet had some garments, a few skirts and blouses, and on the shelf above, some shoe boxes. I sifted through the clothing and looked at some, measuring the skirts against ine. They were all about my size. I imagined they once belonged to my grandmother. Grace Montgomery, I wondered why no one had ever taken them away or given them away.

In fact. as I studied the room. I realized the hairbrush was still on the vanity table as well as hairpin holders and hairpins, some pearl hair combs, makeup brushes, and even tubes of

When I opened the drawer I saw some costume jewelry, earrings and bracelets. In another drawer I found two pearl necklaces and a half dozen boxes of pearl earrings to match.

I remembered Mommy telling me that Uncle Linden once staved in this room. How could he want to sleep in here? What did it do for him? Was he trying to kill the demons or face them down? Surely, they had moved all of this out when he was living here. When he left, everything had been returned, but why? It was eerie how everything had been restored. It was almost as if my grandmother was expected back, that she wasn't dead, only away. Maybe it was something Uncle Linden had insisted an doing. I thought, and made a mental note to ask Mommy about it someday. Of course, she would wonder why I was exploring in this room in the first place. Maybe I was better off asking Uncle Linden himself. If it upset him. however_. Mommy would be very angry at me.

There were just too many secrets, too many unanswered questions, too many forbidden topics in our family, I thought, and all because of what had happened in this room.

I returned to the side of the bed and put my hand on the red comforter. Closing my eyes. I tried to envision my grandmother, not too much older than I was, trusting this handsome man who portrayed himself as her loving guardian, assuring her that he wasn't going to hurt her, but instead would only help her step into maturity and sophistication, confusing and blinding her with his soft words, his gentle, loving touch until he was at her, consuming her in his own lust and passion and then leaving her innocence smashed and crushed on this very bed, leaving her like some wilted flower that had lost all hope of sunshine. She would draw the curtains on her shame and choke back her tears. All the crying she would do would be inside herself.

What was it like for her to realize she was pregnant with Uncle Linden? Her shame was so great, making her keep it secret too long. She was

embarrassed and felt allay and at fault. How do you tell your mother you have slept with her husband? I'm sure she felt that it was somehow her fault, that she had done something she shouldn't have done.

The same was true for poor Uncle Linden living under the cloud of despair, believing his very existence was destroying his own mother. No wonder he had tried suicide. I thought. No wonder he was so confused and lost. He was as innocent as my little brother down the hall. He didn't deserve the selfinflicted punishment, and he certainly didn't deserve to be treated like an unperson, a pariah in this snobby, rich community.

And he certainly didn't deserve to be kept out of this house at such a supposedly happy time!

I gazed about this room with fury. I hated this room. Why was it kept so sacrosanct? Why wasn't it stripped to the bone and left to be what it was? Why were its walls protected so the sin that happened in it could remain? Defy any curse! I cried inside. There wasn't a curse. There is just stupidity... and fear.

In a burst of anger I pulled off the bloodred comforter and tossed it to the floor, Then I threw off the pillows as well and tore away the sheets until there was nothing but a naked mattress. Not satisfied. I ripped away the silk drapery from the pasts and heaved them beside the bedding. When I stopped and stepped back, the bed looked reduced to merely what it was: wood, cloth, and springs. It was

indistinguishable from any other old furniture. It was no longer a stage or a scene of anything. It was merely a bed.

Contented. I left it like that and closed the door behind me. The house was silent, so silent. I could hear the pounding of my awn heart. It took the remainder of the afternoon for me to calm down.

In the end Miguel did not have dinner with me. He told me he thought it would be better if he ate with Mommy in her room,

"She says she doesn't want company, but she really does. I'm sure you understand," he said.

I didn't, but I didn't tell him so. Sitting alone at our long dining room table. I not only felt silly. I felt like a stranger. Above me. Mommy, Miguel, and little Claude were together. I had little appetite and didn't eat much. When I went upstairs. I heard laughter behind Mommy's bedroom door. For a moment I debated going there, but decided to delve into my homework instead. I shut my own bedroom door and put on some music. It was hard to concentrate. Every once in a while I would stop to think about them.

As the evening continued. I anticipated the discovery of what I had done to the forbidden bedroom, but no one came to my door. I didn't know Lila's schedule, It could very well be a day or two before she or anyone would go into that bedroom. Which was fine with me. I had no idea what I would say or how I would defend what I had done.

I called Heyden, but his sister said he had gone out. She said she would tell him I had called. but I knew she wouldn't.

As I expected, the next day at school he told me she had never given him the message.