"Everyone thinks you're crazy now. It was all just a joke. But I got called into the principal's office, too, and he's going to call Daddy and Mommy, thanks to you. Now we'll both be in trouble."
I turned to her slowly, my heart so full of anger, I didn't think I would be able to speak without screaming. But I surprised myself and frightened her with the control in my voice.
"I'm sorry Beau got into a fight and into trouble. He was only trying to protect me. But I'm not sorry about you.
"It's true, I lived in a world that most would consider quite backward compared to the one you've lived in, Gisselle. And it's true the people are simpler and things happen that city people think are terrible, crude, and even immoral.
"But the cruel things you've done to me and permitted others to do to me make anything I've seen in the bayou look like child's play. I thought we could be sisters, real sisters who looked out for each other and cared for each other, but you're determined to hurt me any way you can and whenever you can," I said. Tears were streaming down my cheeks now, despite my effort not to cry in front of her.
"Sure," she replied, moans in her voice, too. "You're making me out to be the bad one now. But you're the one who just appeared on our doorstep and turned our world topsy-turvy. You're the one who got everyone to like you more than they like me. You stole Beau, didn't you?"
"I didn't steal him. You told me you didn't care about him anymore anyway," I said.
"Well . . . I don't, but I don't like someone stealing him away," she added. She stood there, fuming for a few moments. "You better not get me in trouble when the principal calls," she warned and marched off.
Dr. Storm did call. After breaking up the fight between Beau and Billy, a teacher had taken the photograph and brought it to the principal. Dr. Storm told Daphne about the picture and she called Gisselle and me into the study just before dinner. She was so full of anger and embarrassment, her face looked distorted: her eyes large and furious, her mouth stretched into a grimace and her nostrils wide.
"Which one of you allowed such a picture to be taken?" she demanded. Gisselle looked down quickly.
"Neither of us allowed it, Mother," I said. "Some boys snuck into Claudine's house without any of us knowing and while I was changing into a costume for a game we were playing, they snapped the picture of me."
"We're the laughingstock of the school community by now, I'm sure," she said. "And the Andreas have to see the principal. I just got off the phone with Edith Andreas. She's beside herself. This is the first time Beau has gotten into serious trouble. And all because of you," she accused.
"But . . ."
"Did you do these sorts of things in the swamp?"
"No. Of course not," I replied quickly.
"I don't know how you get yourself involved in one terrible thing after another so quickly, but you apparently do. Until further notice, you are not to go anywhere, no parties, no dates, no expensive dinners, nothing. Is that understood?"
I choked back my tears. Defending myself was useless. All she could see was how she had been disgraced.
"Yes, Mother."
"Your father doesn't know about this yet. I will tell him calmly when he returns. Go upstairs and remain in your room until it's time to come down for dinner."
I left and went upstairs, feeling strangely numb. It was as if I didn't care anymore. She could do whatever she wanted to do to me. It didn't matter.
Gisselle paused in my doorway on the way back to her room. She flashed a smile of self-satisfaction, but I didn't say a word to her. That night, we had the quietest dinner since I had arrived. My father was subdued by his disappointment and by what I was sure was Daphne's rage. I avoided his eyes and was happy when Gisselle and I were excused. She couldn't wait to get to her telephone to spread the news of what had occurred.
I went to sleep that night, thinking about Mama Dede, the snake, and the ribbon. How I wished there was something to it all. My desire for vengeance was that strong.
But two days later, I regretted it.
19
Fate Keeps On Happening
The following morning I felt like a shadow of myself. With a heart that had a hollow thump, with legs that seemed to glide over the hallways and down the stairs, I went to breakfast. Martin came to take Gisselle to school, but she didn't ask me and I didn't want to go along with them. Beau had to go to school with his parents so I just walked to school, resembling someone in a trance—face forward, eyes moving neither left nor right.
When I arrived at school, I felt like a pariah. Even Mookie was afraid to associate with me and didn't, as usual, meet me at the locker before homeroom to chatter about homework or television shows. I was the victim in all this, the one who had been horribly embarrassed, but no one seemed to feel sorry for me. It was almost as if I had contracted some terrible, infectious disease and instead of people worrying about me, they were worried about themselves.
Later in the day, I ran into Beau rushing down the corridor to class. He and his parents had had their meeting with Dr. Storm.
"I'm on probation," he told me with a frown. "If I do anything else, break the slightest school rule, be suspended and kicked off the baseball team."
"I'm sorry, Beau. I didn't mean for you to do something and get yourself in trouble."
"That's all right. I hated what they did to you," he said, and then he looked down and I knew what was coming. "I had to promise my parents I wouldn't see you for a while. But that's a promise I don't intend to keep," he added, his beautiful blue eyes blazing with defiance and anger.
"No, Beau. Do what they say. You'll only get yourself into more trouble and I'll be blamed for it. Let some time pass."
"It's not fair," he complained.
"What's fair and what isn't doesn't seem to matter, especially where rich Creole reputations are concerned," I told him bitterly. He nodded. The warning bell for the next period sounded.
"I'd better not be late for class," he said.
"Me neither." I started away.
"I'll call you," he cried, but I didn't turn back. I didn't want him to see the tears that had clouded my eyes. I choked them back, took a deep breath, and went on to my next class. In all my classes, I sat quietly, took notes, and answered questions only when I was asked directly. When the period ended and the class was dismissed, I always left the room alone, holding back until most of the students had gone.
The worst time was lunch. No one was eager to sit with me and when I took a seat at a table, the students who were already sitting there moved to another table. Beau sat with his baseball teammates and Gisselle sat with her usual friends. I knew everyone was looking at me, but I didn't return their glances and stares.
Mookie finally had enough nerve to speak to me, but I wished she hadn't, for she brought only bad news.
"Everyone thinks you deliberately did a striptease. Is it true you're good friends with a prostitute?" she asked quickly. A hot rush of blood heated my face.
"First, I didn't do any striptease, and no, I am not good friends with a prostitute. The girls and boys who pulled this horrible prank on me are just spreading stories to try to cover up their own guilt, Mookie. I thought you, of all people, would see that," I snapped.
"Oh, I believe you," she said. "But everyone's talking about you and when I tried to tell my mother you weren't as bad as people were saying, she got furious with me and forbid me to be friends with you. I'm sorry," she added. What she said to me made me stiffen.
"So am I," I replied, and gobbled down the rest of my lunch so I could leave quickly.
At the end of the school day, I went to see Mr. Saxon, the dramatics instructor, and told him I was resigning from the school play. It was obvious from the look on his face that he had heard all about the episode with the photograph.