Chapter 16
Chapter 16
When Fern got pregnant, she thought she’d ruined everything, but Diane had told her she’d been given a second chance to have the baby, give it away, and go back to her normal life. Fern wanted her normal life back so bad, but she’d promised Holly. And Rose was right—the only thing they had was witchcraft.
But Zinnia told her if she was smart she’d walk away. Zinnia said it would end ugly. Fern knew in her gut that books weren’t supposed to change. She knew that witches were evil. She knew in her soul that this was wrong.
But she’d promised Holly.
Fern knew she was supposed to want to stick it to the Man and be a witch and save Holly, but why? Why couldn’t she just walk away and have the baby and go home and have everything go back to normal? She liked normal. She liked when her mom had her sewing circle over for coffee and cake. She liked going to the drive-in and to pep rallies and doing Backwards Day and the Splashdown Whoop-Up. Why had Holly ever opened her mouth?
A bottomless pit of despair widened in her chest like a sinkhole and she barely made it back to their room. She lay there for the rest of the day, crying into her pillow. Holly tried to talk to her, but seeing Holly just made her cry harder, so eventually Holly gave her Precious Pup, and Fern clutched the stuffed dog to her, wishing with everything she had that she was back in Huntsville, watching Gilligan’s Island with Midge, drinking their mom’s lemonade that was always too sweet. She wished as hard as she could that she had never gotten pregnant.
Precious Pup smelled like Midge’s stuffed animals, and Fern remembered sitting in Midge’s room the day after Christmas, watching her play with the Baby Walk Alone she’d been talking about for months. She was eight, completely absorbed in mothering that baby doll, teaching it, coddling it, telling it how to behave.
Then, Fern had a flash of Guy, on top of her for the first time, wedged in the back seat of his dad’s car, his sweat dripping on her face. She felt the quick cut between her legs, the feeling of something bruised down there, and she remembered him stopping just when she was getting used to it, realizing he was done.
Is that what everyone goes on and on about? she’d thought. Is that it?
She hugged Precious Pup to her and wondered if Holly was holding him when Reverend Jerry took her virginity. When she’d been eight. Midge’s age the Christmas she got Baby Walk Alone.
Fern remembered blood in her underwear when she got home that night, and she wondered how much Holly bled when it happened. How much did an eight-year-old bleed? Did she only bleed the first time, or did she bleed every time?
And no one believed her. And everyone thought she was crazy. And they sent her here, where she wouldn’t bother anyone.
Fern realized that what Reverend Jerry had done to Holly was the most evil thing in the world.
And they were the only ones who could do anything about it.
Her mind cleared. It was like Rose said: Everything they told them was evil was good. And everything they told them was good was evil. Fern decided that even if this did end ugly, even if the witch did trick them, even if this was wrong, she couldn’t unhear what Holly had said. She decided that no matter what, she wasn’t letting Holly go home.
After dinner she forced herself to walk upstairs, into the darkening attic, reach beneath the bundle of canes in the baby carriage, and pull out the book. Its cover felt warm, like someone had been holding it close to their body.
She opened the first chapter and started to read. She sat on the floor and read until Nurse Kent called lights out downstairs. Then she hid the book and went to bed. Zinnia still wouldn’t talk to her.
The next morning, as soon as they were done cleaning, she crawled upstairs and got the book again. Something hiding behind its pages lured her forward. She wanted to find a way to keep Holly from going home…but it was never on that page…maybe on the next? Or the next? She had to keep reading.
The book rewrote itself when she wasn’t looking, adding a word here, a sentence there, inserting explanations, giving definitions, anticipating her questions. She’d wonder what an athame was and the next chapter would describe it as a black-handled ritual knife, like the kind Miss Parcae used to slice their thumbs. She’d turn to the glossary to look up besom and below it she’d see cingulum , a word she’d been wondering about but hadn’t seen in the glossary before.
Fern kept reading, weighing each new spell as it materialized on the page, evaluating how likely it was to save Holly. Invisibility? Spiritual protection? The power of flight? There were spells for Finding That Which Is Hidden, spells for Understanding the Hearts of Men, spells for Necromancy, spells for banishing and binding and raising a storm, spells to Leave the Body, and spells To See Who Will Die.
But there wasn’t anything that told her how to get a fourteen-year-old girl and her baby to another city and set her up in a pad with a job and a new identity, especially if she didn’t have any money.
She consulted the Zoric Cleaning calendar on the back wall of the Cong where Nurse Kent wrote all their due dates. Rose was due first, on the fifth of July. Fern’s due date wasn’t until August fourteenth, and then came Holly a little over a week later. She had sixty-four days to figure out how to save her. But no matter how much she read, she couldn’t find the right spell. They were running out of time.
She needed to talk to the librarian.
***
Monday, June 29 came, and Miss Parcae’s bookmobile rumbled into the front yard. Fern forced herself to wait until almost all the other girls had gotten their books before she walked past Mrs. Deckle guarding the bookmobile door. She wanted to be alone with the librarian.
“Five minutes,” Mrs. Deckle said as Fern stepped into the bus’s cool interior. “It’s too hot for lingering.”
Fern’s eyes adjusted and she saw Miss Parcae sitting at the far end behind her tiny desk. Today her suit was emerald green. She smiled when she saw Fern.
“How are you enjoying your books?” she asked.
“I need help,” Fern said. “You know we want to help Holly, but I can’t find the right spell. I don’t know what to do. The book…keeps getting bigger.”
“I’d be happy to help you find a book,” Miss Parcae said, projecting like she was onstage. “What were you interested in reading?”
“You don’t understand,” Fern said. “It’s the book about magic you gave us.”
“That’s right,” Miss Parcae said, standing. “It was books about magic you particularly liked, wasn’t it?”
Then she spoke to someone behind Fern.
“We’ll be done in just a minute.”
“I don’t have all day,” Mrs. Deckle said from the door. “We’re very busy this week.”
“I’m sure you are,” Miss Parcae said, and pulled down A Wizard of Earthsea and handed it to Fern.
She sat at her desk to enter it into her ledger and whispered through her hostess smile without looking up, “They’re watching me. Some girls snuck out of the Home and now they’re worried about strangers. I’ll send Decima to fetch you again.”
Then she handed the book to Fern and smiled.
“How I do wish you could come visit me sometime,” she beamed. “We’d have some tea and a nice long chat. Wouldn’t that be lovely?”
***
Fern woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of a dog barking somewhere in the distance. It went on and on and every time she thought it was about to stop it kept going. Finally, she gave up and pushed herself onto her knees and looked out the window. It was pitch-black outside, but sitting by the edge of the woods, watching the Home, was one of Miss Parcae’s enormous black dogs.
She told Rose the next morning.
“She said she’d send Decima to bring us to her. That’s her dog’s name, I think?”
“And now we can’t get outside,” Rose said. “Terrific.”
Rose had been getting updates on the book from Fern. Rose was too impatient to read it herself, but the two of them were united in their belief that it was their best chance of doing something for Holly. Now they didn’t know what to do.
Every night that week, Decima came and sat patiently by the tree line, and when the sky began to lighten, she stood and trotted back into the woods. Fern and Rose were desperate to get out of the house and follow her, but then came the Fourth of July, and they forgot all about the witches.
***
Friday, July 3 was the hottest day on record in St. Augustine. While they helped set out breakfast, Hagar said that the weather forecast on the front page of the paper that day didn’t list a temperature; instead there was just a picture of a sweating elephant with its trunk in a glass of water and big letters that read HOT!
President Nixon declared that Saturday, the Fourth of July, would be Honor America Day. Billy Graham and Bob Hope invited the entire country to the Lincoln Memorial, where Pat Boone and the New Christy Minstrels would sing about how the War was going to be over soon, and it was A-OK to bomb Cambodia.
The holiday sent excitement buzzing through the Home. Dr. Vincent had finally come back from the hospital—a little skinnier, much frailer, but alive—and even Miss Wellwood seemed infected by the good vibes. She told the girls that any of them who so desired could go into town the next night and see the fireworks. Mrs. Deckle and Diane volunteered to drive and pretty much everyone decided to go, except Rose and Briony.
Rose wasn’t going because she refused to participate in a warmonger’s holiday. Briony wasn’t going because she’d gotten a letter from her PF calling off their engagement.
“He promised,” they heard her wailing through the door of her room. “I already sewed one hundred and eighty hankies and the ring bearer’s cushion! What am I going to do?”
Fern actually felt bad. Everyone felt bad. Briony had talked about her wedding as much as Rose talked about Blossom. They all knew her colors (cream and rose), what was being served at the reception (barbecue and fried chicken), and her bouquet (bouvardia and orchids). Briony might be a stuck-up snob, but they had no doubt that she was a Quality Girl. Now she was just pregnant trash like the rest of them.
On Friday the third, they sat in the Cong after lunch, playing yet another game of Hearts. Even Zinnia was playing because they needed four people and Rose and Fern had promised not to say anything about the book. Clem was curling Daisy’s hair with orange juice cans, and Iris and Flora sat on the sofa making paper chains out of red, white, and blue construction paper. A mood of harmony and goodwill prevailed, and everyone was as excited about tomorrow as a bunch of pregnant teenage girls with heat rash could be. Which was when Nurse Kent came in and said, “Rose, go get your things.”
Rose didn’t even look up from her cards.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because Miss Wellwood’s driving you over to the hospital this morning,” Nurse Kent said.
“I’m not due until Sunday,” Rose said, going back to her hand.
“The doctor says you’re going today,” Nurse Kent said, an edge creeping into her voice.
Rose played the two of clubs to start the hand.
“Go,” she said to Holly.
“But you need to pack,” Fern said.
“No, I don’t,” Rose said. “I feel fine. I’m not sitting in the hospital all weekend for no reason. Are you going to play?”
Not knowing what to do, Holly put a two of diamonds down over Rose’s two of clubs.
“You won’t be sitting in the hospital all weekend for no reason,” Nurse Kent said. “Dr. Vincent doesn’t do things for no reason. Now quit giving me lip and go pack your things. Or I can pick you up and put you in the car with no going-home clothes.”
“The System perpetuates the use of force because the System only respects force,” Rose said. “All I’m saying is I want to know the reason.”
“I don’t know why Dr. Vincent has you going early,” Nurse Kent said. “Probably because of the holiday weekend. Now quit clowning around.”
“I don’t see what Richard Nixon’s All-American War Pageant has to do with my daughter,” Rose said. “It’s your turn, Fern.”
Fern made herself look at her cards. She put down a six of clubs, which was stupid because she’d probably just pulled the trick, but she really wasn’t focused on her cards at the moment.
“Miss Wellwood’s waiting,” Nurse Kent said.
“If Dr. Vincent wants me to go to the hospital so badly,” Rose said, “he can come tell me why.”
“He just got back from sick leave and I am not asking him to come up here because you’re being a brat,” Nurse Kent said.
Normally Nurse Kent was an okay individual, but they could tell she was starting to lose her cool.
“Then I’m not going to the hospital,” Rose said. “Zinnia?”
Nurse Kent made a decision and headed for the door.
“Don’t move an inch,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here playing cards with my friends,” Rose said. “Zinnia?”
Zinnia had to be even more rattled than Fern because she put down a ten of clubs. All the girls making star-spangled decorations were whispering to each other. Laurel drifted in the door and Flora gestured for her to come over quick.
“You take the trick, Zinnia,” Rose said, then raised her voice to address the girls making decorations. “And y’all need to buy tickets if you want to see the show.”
Laurel lowered herself onto the sofa and pretended to make decorations.
“Why won’t you go to the hospital?” Fern whispered.
Rose handed three cards to Zinnia.
“You start,” she said.
Fern handed three cards to Rose and took three from Holly.
“Babies come when they’re ready,” Rose said. “I’m not in labor yet, so I don’t need to go anywhere.”
“But it might be air-conditioned,” Fern said.
“Blossom isn’t ready,” Rose said.
Fern took the next trick because she could barely drag her attention away from the door. Word had gotten out and the Cong was filling up with girls. Daisy was over by the couch, orange juice cans dangling from her head. Flora and Jasmine waved each new girl over and filled them in, then they all sat down to make decorations and wait for act two to begin. Fern had just taken three cards from Zinnia when Dr. Vincent came in the door.
“Now, what’s all this I hear about you not wanting to go to the hospital?” he asked.
“It sounds like you’ve pretty much got the picture,” Rose said, reorganizing her hand. “Fern?”
Fern put down the six of spades. Dr. Vincent hovered over their table, one hand on the back of Rose’s chair. He had definitely lost weight. Fern could see it in his drawn cheeks and chicken neck.
“Why don’t you be a good girl and stop this fooling around,” Dr. Vincent said. “I know it’s scary when a baby’s time comes, but you’re making a fuss over nothing.”
“It’s not scary at all,” Rose said. “I’m not in labor, so there’s no need to go to the hospital.”
“Now look here,” he said, making himself chuckle and shake his head as if Rose was just about the darnedest donkey he’d ever had to harness. “This is a medical matter. We need to get you admitted today.”
“Why?” Rose asked.
“Well,” Dr. Vincent grinned. “It’s Friday and tomorrow is the Fourth of July. We’re going to just run you over and give you a little shot of something that’ll make the baby come a little earlier. It’s all perfectly safe. There’s absolutely nothing to worry about.”
“You’re the only one who’s worried,” Rose said, and played the queen of diamonds. She turned to Zinnia and said, “I don’t have anything else.”
“That’s not really a choice you get to make, darling,” Dr. Vincent said.
“Unless you’re willing to pick up a pregnant woman and throw her over your shoulder,” Rose said, “it seems like it’s exactly the choice I get to make.”
Dr. Vincent stopped chuckling.
“A due date is not a precise science,” he said. “For all we know your labor pains might start in five minutes, in five hours, or maybe not even until Monday morning. This is just an advanced medical technique we use to put the process a little more on our terms.”
“I’ll wait,” Rose said. “Fern, are you going to play?”
Fern took a quick glance at her cards and put something down. She wasn’t even sure what it was.
“This is no joke, young lady,” Dr. Vincent said.
“You’re the one treating my baby like a joke,” Rose said, and she fixed him with a hard stare. “You want me to go in today so some doctor can cut my baby out early and go to his country club tomorrow and see his fashion show and eat his hot dogs without some pregnant woman interrupting him with the birth of her child. Well, tell him I don’t need a doctor. I’d rather have Hagar deliver my baby, anyway. I bet she’s delivered lots more of them than some fat-cat doctor with a set of gold-plated golf clubs who probably sent his secretary to a home just like this one when he knocked her up.”
Across the room, Fern saw Laurel’s shoulders stiffen and her head went down fast, focusing on cutting a bald eagle out of yellow construction paper.
“Young lady,” Dr. Vincent said. “You are being deeply disrespectful.”
“Old man,” Rose said, “the only one being disrespectful here is you and your golfing buddy who wants to slice me open so he can clock out by five.”
Fern was terrified to look at Dr. Vincent, but the silence went on for so long that she finally stole a glance. His earlobes were dark red and there was nothing friendly about his smile anymore.
“This doctor is the best in the field and a close personal friend and I will not have a common tramp disparage him,” he said in a steel-edged voice. “You are going to the hospital now and you are having this baby today.”
He turned and marched out of the room, the tails of his white coat flapping. By now, the other girls in the Cong had given up all pretense of doing anything other than staring.
“Rose…” Fern tried.
“Play,” she said.
“Why don’t you just go?” Zinnia whispered, lips barely moving, terrified at how close they were to being in trouble.
“Because,” Rose said. “I am not letting them take Blossom before she’s ready just because they don’t want to mess up their weekend plans.”
The four girls played cards and waited for the next actor in this drama to come onstage. Odds were good it was going to be Miss Wellwood. Instead, it was Diane. She crossed directly to the card table, center stage.
“Okay, Rose,” Diane said, and stopped right behind Fern. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
“No,” Rose said. “I don’t talk to you.”
“Relax, Rose,” Diane said. “No one’s trying to make you do anything you don’t want to do. But you’re causing a scene, so I feel like you owe us an explanation.”
Fern realized that as long as they played cards they were protecting Rose. It was like their game formed an invisible force field that kept her safe. Rose put down the king of spades. Fern put the ten of spades on top.
“Go, Holly,” she said.
“I didn’t ask you to come here,” Rose said to Diane. “And I don’t owe you a thing.”
“That’s true,” Diane said. “But you did ask Dr. Vincent to come, and he asked me to talk to you. So would you at least tell me why all the static? Because I can’t believe that a girl as smart as you would be flipping out over such a small thing as going to the hospital a day early to make a whole lot of people’s lives a whole lot easier.”
Holly put down a ten of diamonds.
“It doesn’t make my baby’s life any easier,” Rose said. “And that’s all that matters.”
“It’s getting real close to your due date,” Diane said. “They can monitor you at the hospital and make sure nothing goes wrong. It seems to me that if you really cared about your baby you’d want her to be in the safest environment possible.”
Zinnia put down a three of diamonds.
“Don’t try to play head games with me, you big phony,” Rose said. “The only thing you care about is how much you can sell my baby for.”
She went to play a card but before she even laid it down, Diane leaned over Fern fast, knocking her head aside, and grabbed Rose’s hand. For a moment they wrestled over the card.
“You sanctimonious fake hippie,” Diane snapped.
Fern had never heard Diane like this. She scooted to the side to get out of the line of fire. Diane gripped Rose’s wrist and Rose pulled back. They strained so hard their hands trembled and their tendons stood out.
“Ladies!” Dr. Vincent called from the sidelines. “Relax! Relax, ladies!”
Rose stood, yanking Diane toward her, and the table caught Diane in the stomach and she let go. Rose threw her crumpled card and it hit Diane in the face and landed on the table, face up. Queen of hearts. The two of them breathed heavily for a moment, staring at each other. Diane swallowed and held up one hand.
“I’m sorry, Rose,” she said. “I lost my cool. I work really hard to be fair to you girls because I know this is a difficult time but I don’t like getting accused of being some kind of black market baby peddler. That’s a low-down thing to call someone in this field. Now, I know you don’t respect me, I know you don’t have much respect for anyone, but I care about you, Rose. Believe it or not, I truly do.”
“Save it, sister,” Rose said.
“I know what that Sinclair boy did to you,” Diane said, and the name was like she’d slapped Rose across the face. “I know it made you feel small that he threw you over for a check, and I know that the person you’re really angry with is yourself because now you have to face the consequences of your actions.”
“Fuck you!” Rose screamed, and it echoed off the walls of the Cong.
A big vein pulsed down the middle of her forehead.
“Rose, I want you to get the best medical care possible,” Diane said. “I want your baby to be healthy. And if you want to keep your baby, that’s your decision. Based on my experience I don’t think you’re going to want to live with your mistake for the rest of—”
“She’s not a mistake!” Rose shrieked across the table. “She’s my daughter!”
Diane had the upper hand now and she knew it. She played it cool. Rose was the one blowing her stack.
“I’m here for you,” Diane said. “And if you change your mind, I want you to know that I found a couple who would love to give your baby the best chance in life she deserves.”
“No!” Rose said, shaking her head wildly.
Diane kept going.
“They’re a professional couple,” she said. “He has a computer science degree.”
“What do computers have to do with being a parent?” Rose said.
“They can give your baby a future,” Diane said. “You and I sat in my office that first day and we both agreed that you could only give it one thing: love. And that’s a nice slogan on a sign, but it doesn’t put food on the table.”
Diane started toward Rose as she talked, her arms out as if she was going to give her a hug.
“Don’t you come near me!” Rose shrieked, backing away. “You keep your filthy hands off my Blossom! You just want to sell her!”
“No one’s going to sell your baby,” Diane said. “But look at yourself. Look how quickly you’ve blown your cool. Do you want your baby to see you like this?”
“Stay away from me!” Rose yelled.
At first Fern thought someone had knocked over a glass of water. In the silence of the room, the splatter was loud. Everyone watched as clear liquid ran down Rose’s bare legs and puddled onto the floor.
“No!” Rose shrieked when she saw it, when she understood what was happening. “No! No! No!”
“Okay,” Dr. Vincent said. “That’s enough.”
“No!” Rose shrieked. “I’m not going with you! I’m not having this baby! This isn’t her time! You can’t make me!”
Diane kept advancing on Rose, who was bent over, protecting her stomach with both arms, occasionally lashing one out to keep Diane away.
“Rose,” Diane said over and over again. “Relax. Relax, Rose. Just relax.”
Fern noticed Diane was backing Rose toward Nurse Kent, and that was when Nurse Kent stepped forward and wrapped her big arms around Rose, lifting her up.
“No!” Rose screamed, and then Dr. Vincent was beside them, pulling up the short sleeve of her dress, a hypodermic in his hand.
“ No! ” Rose shrieked. “Not like this! Not like this!”
He slid the needle into her arm and Rose kept repeating, even as her speech slurred, “Not like this…not like this…”
Between them, Nurse Kent, Dr. Vincent, and Diane got Rose out of the Cong and downstairs. Everyone watched from the windows as they slid her limp, drugged body into the back seat of Miss Wellwood’s station wagon, Diane on one side of her, Nurse Kent on the other, like she was their prisoner.
Fern had never seen Diane like this before. She’d said exactly the things that would punch Rose’s ticket. Almost like she was trying to make Rose blow her top so they could give her a shot. Almost like she’d calculated it that way from the start.