Bless the Child (7 page)

I
was a little startled by your urgent invitation this morning, Jenna,” Maggie said when she arrived in Greenwich after her daughter’s call. “I’ve tried to reach you for days with no success, and then suddenly, I’m summoned? I’ve been really worried about Cody since my last visit here. Is she all right?”

“Of course, she’s all right, Mother,” Jenna replied bristling. “Why wouldn’t she be?”

“Perhaps, because she’s been yanked out of a familiar environment and plopped into one that’s hardly ordinary. Perhaps, because she was dragged out of my arms by Jabba-the-Nanny, who seems to have all the childrearing skills of Josef Mengele.”

“Really, Mother, don’t you think
you’re
being just a little melodramatic?”

“No, Jenna, I don’t think so. I think you’re putting too much power in that Amah’s hands.
You’re
Cody’s mother, not Ghania. You must see there’s been a significant personality change in the child in just a month.”

“There certainly has been, Mother, and I think it’s for the better.”

Maggie sighed, and tried again. “Are
you
all right , Jenna?” she asked, quelling her frustration. “You seem so unreachable. Isn’t there any way we can talk to each other?”

“Look, I don’t want to fight with you, Mom,” the girl replied. “So please don’t start with me. My life is perfect here, and then you come along trying to change things where Cody is concerned, and it just makes me mad. That’s all.”

“Oh, Jenna. It’s so sad that you and I don’t seem to know how to talk to each other,” Maggie said, unnerved by the continuing failure. “I’m so sorry if I don’t say the right things to you—but I’m just as worried about you as I am about Cody. Something is very wrong her, Jenna! This place seems so desolate, so alien. Are you absolutely sure you’re happy here?”

Jenna smiled frostily. “I’m perfectly happy, Mother. How could I not be happy—look at everything I’ve got.”

“
Things
are not what make people happy, Jenna. People do. And valuable work does. And—“

“Look, Mom!” Jenna cut her off. “I don’t see things the way you do. I never did. I never will. I called you to come here, because I didn’t want you worrying about Cody, after the other day. So, why don’t we just go see her and forget about analyzing my life, okay?”

Another closed door. Maggie took the rebuff stoically; at least this time it was civil.

“I’m glad you called—I hate it when things go wrong between us. And I would really like to be able to spend a little time alone with Cody, Jenna, if that’s possible. You must realize life is very lonesome for me, now that she’s gone.”

Maggie could read the calculation in Jenna’s face . . .
Maybe if I let her see the child alone she’ll go away.
“All right, Mother. If she isn’t napping, you can spend an hour with her.”

“Without Ghania?”

“If that would make you happy.” Jenna had been startled when Ghania told her to see to it Maggie visited today. She still had no idea why the Amah had insisted.

“Oh, Jenna, it would! I promise I won’t cause a hassle about going home. If she sees I’ve returned so quickly, she won’t be so skittish about my leaving again.”

Jenna departed and Maggie stood at the window, staring out across the expansive lawn. Jenna’s eyes were dilated and hooded—her speech, slightly slurred. She knew there was no point arguing with an addict who was using, but it saddened her to the soul. She didn’t intend to leave today, until she had a handle on what was going on in this strange household.

Cody’s
face seemed to implode with emotion when she saw her grandmother. There was joy, dismay, relief, and something else Maggie couldn’t decipher. Something terrible and haunted. She took the child into her arms and held her to her heart for a long while, without speaking. She could feel the tension drain, and relief fill up the space it had occupied.

“Sweetheart, let’s go outside for a walk, shall we? She said, when she was sure she could control her voice. “The weather is lovely and we’ll have a chance to have a good, long talk.” Cody nodded her head yes, but looked so apprehensive that Maggie hastened her out the door. She felt better the minute she hit the lawn, but Cody twice looked back fearfully toward the house. Maggie followed the trajectory of her gaze and saw Ghania, standing sentinel-like at an upstairs window.

She hurried Cody along, protecting her from the malevolent stare with her own body. She headed left, off the great lawn, and zigzagged toward the beach. Surely there was some spot on this vast estate where Ghania’s presence could be unfelt for an hour.

The beach was March-cold and the water, slate, with occasional specks of foam. Maggie wrapped the child’s coat close around her; took the scarf from her own neck and tied it around Cody’s ears to protect her from the chill ocean breeze.

“I love you, sweetheart,” she began, not quite knowing how to proceed in her mission, without further frightening the child. “You know I love you with all my heart . . .”

“Ghania says you don’t,” Cody murmured, not looking at Maggie, but down at the sand. “She says if you loved me, you would take me home.”

Maggie’s heart lurched at the cruelty of the lie.

“Not love you?” she exploded. “How dare she say such a terrible thing? You listen to me, sweetheart, and listen with all your might, understand?” Cody nodded her head yes, but she still didn’t look Maggie in the eye. “The reason I haven’t taken you home is because your mommy and Eric
won’t let me
.

“I love you so much, Cody that every single day and night,
every single minute since
you left, I have missed you and thought about you and wished we were together! How could you ever believe such a lie, sweetheart, when you’ve know since you were the size of a mouse how much I love you?”

“Ghania knows a lot of things, Mim,” Cody whispered.

“What things, Cody? What does Ghania know?”

“She knows how to look in my head and see what I’m thinking,” the child answered guilelessly.

“She does
not
know how to do that, Cody!” Maggie said, horrified. “No one does.”

“Ghania knows God, Mim,” the little girl said in an awestruck voice that took Maggie aback.

“What do you mean, sweetheart? We all know God, that’s why we pray to Him.”

Cody shook her head vehemently. “It’s not
that
God, Mim. Ghania knows a different one.”

“Cody!”
Maggie said with great seriousness. “There is only one God, and no matter what Ghania says, she does not know Him any better than we do!”

“Yes, she does,” the child persisted.

“How do you know that?”

“Because I prayed and prayed for you to save me and you never came. And the Ghania told me about the God who could make you come here. And I prayed to him last night and then you came.”

Rage at Ghania’s vile manipulation filled Maggie. She took Cody by the shoulders and turned her around so that the child’s eyes couldn’t avoid her own.

“Now you listen to me, my little love,” she said in a tone that left no room for dissent. “And you listen
very
, very carefully. Here’s how you can know for sure that I love you: You just reach inside Cody, and you remember every day and every night we ever spent together. You remember how you
felt
, safe and warm and loved. You remember every happy moment we ever had together since you were a tiny baby.
Nobody
can talk you out of those memories, Cody. They
belong
to you. Forever. And if anybody ever tries to confuse you, or lie to you, or make you believe anything bad about me, you just reach inside your heart and you will know the truth. Do you understand me, Cody? Love
feels
good. It feels safe and warm and happy. When somebody loves you, that’s how you feel, understand? You can believe your feelings, sweetheart, even when people try to confuse you with words. Okay?”

Cody hesitantly nodded her head yes.

“Now let’s talk about Ghania. She does
not
read minds because
nobody
reads minds. Some people just pretend to. And I didn’t come here today because her God sent me, I came because I love and I miss you. And I wanted to make sure you were safe. I’ve been calling every single day since my last visit, trying to get to see you, but it wasn’t till today that your mommy allowed it.”

Another nod.

“Now Cody, this is very,
very
important. The other day when I was here, you said
they hurt the baby
. Can you tell Mim what you meant by that?”

Cody squirmed in Maggie’s grasp, again unwilling to meet her eyes.

“I’m afraid,” she said finally in a tiny, frightened whisper.

“Of what, sweetheart? What are you afraid of?”

“Somebody’s screaming,” she quavered, tears blurring the words. “At night. I hear them. Somebody gets hurt really bad and when Ghania hears it, she smiles and I get scared.”

Maggie frowned. Could Cody be hearing the TV and misunderstanding? Or Eric and Jenna? It didn’t make sense.

“Are you sure, love? This is very important, Cody. Could it be the TV?”

Cody shook her head no emphatically.

“Once,” she said, so softly Maggie could hardly hear, “I saw the blood.”

“The blood? What blood?”

“From the Screamers.”

Maggie’s heart thudded in her chest. She tried to sound calm.

“How do you know it was from the Screamers, Cody? How do you know it was blood? Maybe it was ketchup.”

Cody looked haunted again, that strange look Maggie had seen earlier.

“Ghania told me,” she said in a voice so small Maggie really had to concentrate. “I was bad and she showed me the blood from the Screamers. She said she could make me a Screamers, too.” The child’s voice wavered at the last of it, as she could barely say the words.

Maggie’s stomach turned over. She pulled Cody very close, and hugged her to hide the tears in her own eyes. She had to bite her lip to stay in control.

“Is there anything else, Cody? Does anything else hurt you or frighten you?”

“She tries to make me drink the cocktail. But I won’t, so she hits me, and she twists my arm so it hurts me.”

“Cocktail?” Maggie asked, puzzled. “What kind of cocktail, sweetie, does it have liquor in it?”

Cody shook her head no.

“What then? What’s in the cocktail, and why does she want you to drink it?”

“Ghania says it will make me one of them.”

“One of them? One of what?”

Cody shrugged her little shoulders. There was a lost and helpless character to the shrug. “I don’t know, Mim. But it makes you really sick. Once she held my nose and made me drink it, but I threw up on her so she stopped.”

“Good for you!” Maggie applauded. What could this mean? Could Cody be having nightmares? None of it made sense, except that it was all ghastly and abusive.

“Could I come home now, Mim?” Cody asked softly. “I promise to be really good if you let me come home.”
Dear God, she thinks it’s her fault she’s here . . .