Doreen (27 page)

“Hello! Doreen, where are you?” A switch on the wall made a dim fluorescent tube flicker to life overhead, revealing a mess of electrical wiring, plastic tubing, rotting mattresses, and old, broken furniture. The smell was of organic decomposition and turpentine.

“Doreen! Doreen, are you here?”

Biz heard a creaking from the back of the room. Carefully trying not to touch anything or imagine what horrible creatures made the stinking room their home, she crept past the broken-down bed frames, the burst cushions, the stores of pink insulating foam. Finally, at the back of the room she found a rusted metal ladder that descended from the ceiling. It led to a small crawl space, lit from within by Doreen's flashlight. The drywall that had covered it had been pushed aside and Biz heard the scraping of things being moved around.

“Doreen! Come down from there. I don't understand.”

Doreen stuck her head out of the opening. “Patience! All will be revealed shortly.” Biz watched her gingerly climb down the ladder with a shapeless package tucked under her arm. “Where shall we do this? But it's so dark here. Come on. I know just the place.”

Doreen hummed to herself as she scurried past the junk, out of the storage room. Biz followed her into another room. The janitor's office, Biz supposed from the tools, the desk, the small television. Doreen turned on the desk lamp.

“Have a seat,” she said. Biz did as she was told. Doreen ripped apart the parcel to reveal a manila envelope, and inside that another envelope, and inside that a folder. Biz had a feeling that whatever was in there would change her life forever. But she couldn't stop it. She had to know.

“Ah, yes,” said Doreen, adding the folder to the pile of discarded packaging. “Here it is.” She smiled at the picture and placed it facedown on the desk before sliding it toward Biz. “Go ahead. See for yourself. Go on.” Her voice was steady, but her eyes were wide.

Biz looked down at the page. “I don't know.”

“Just do it!” Doreen yelled. She slammed a fist on the metal desk. “Look. Look! Look for yourself at your beautiful monster.” Doreen flipped the page over. Biz peered down at the image. She gasped.

“What happened to it? Did you do this? Why?”

“Don't stop.” Doreen shined the lamp onto the image. “Get a close look, Elizabeth. Take it all in.”

“No, no. I don't under—”

The composition of the picture remained the same—there was the green grass, darkening sky, even the red, strapless dress. But instead of the lovely girl on a chair Biz saw a hideous beast—with the eyes of a devil and a gaping, bloody, salivating mouth. A horrible tongue reached out from the depths. The creature was all appetite, burning desire, horrifying in its need for more. The hands were oozing, boil-covered, and they reached out from the body, ready to grab, take in, devour. It was flesh that craved, that hunted, that would not be satisfied.

Biz felt woozy, but Doreen slammed her hand against the desk again. “Keep looking!” she demanded, her perfect, porcelain brow creased, her lovely mouth sneering. She smelled of orange peel and lavender. What could she, who looked so innocent, so immaculate, have to do with the seeping, lecherous beast in the image?

“How did this happen? Tell me. Please, I have to know.”

Doreen turned the flashlight in her hand. “Do you remember that day last summer, Biz? The day you took this picture. After you used your computer to turn the fat, ugly pig that I was into an ethereal, graceful beauty? I became agitated when you showed me what you'd done to the picture. Ring a bell?”

“You thought we were making fun of you.” Biz imagined Doreen the way she looked that day when she arrived at Chandler, how sweet and scared and broken she was.

“Yes. I often think that, of course. But you reassured me, didn't you? You were only doing what they do in the magazines, you said. And then Heidi admonished me. She offered to destroy the picture—but I wouldn't let her. I clung to it. I wanted to keep it forever. I made a wish. Do you remember what it was? It wasn't so long ago, wasn't it? Only a few months.”

“You, you wished . . .” Biz had trouble forming words. “You wanted to be that girl, the one in the picture.” She blinked the tears out of her eyes.

“And so I did. And guess what? My wish came true! Tra-la-la! Sound unbelievable? I didn't believe it myself when I awoke the next morning. You see, at first I didn't notice it. When you look as I used to, you don't spend a lot of time looking in mirrors. In fact, before I even saw myself that morning, I took a quick look at the picture. But the picture didn't look anything like I remembered it. The girl, the beautiful one, the one you created, Biz, she was nowhere to be seen. The subject of the photo was just regular, plain-old, ugly Doreen Gray—pimples, frizzy hair, and all. Was it a trick of my eyes or of my memory? I didn't know, but I was so sad to lose that lovely girl. But, of course, I saw her again only a few minutes later. She looked me in the face the moment I looked in the mirror.

“I thought I must be having some sort of psychological break. People don't transform overnight. But then, when I arrived at your suite and I saw your reaction, and later still, at the cafeteria, the way people treated me. I knew that what I saw in the mirror was how the world saw me as well. It had come true! My wish had come true and life would be too wonderful. Sad little Doreen Gray was a thing of the past, replaced by this!” And she spun around.

“You said that the girl in the picture looked like you—the way you used to look.” Biz flipped the page over. “But this is the face of a devil!”

“Yes. That happened over time. I noticed it after I broke up with Simon, the day of the terrible football game. Something compelled me to look at the picture when I returned to my room and I saw a small change. Nothing too significant, a hardness around the mouth, a widening of the eyes.”

Doreen paced in and out of the light as she recounted her story. Her robe had loosened, the tie belt dragging on the ground. Biz sat on the desk chair and hugged her knees toward herself.

“The morning after the Fall Dance—that's when I really started to see a change. The face was becoming diabolical. It scared me. Of course, I knew I had behaved unkindly to Simon, and I realized the picture was reflecting those actions. And my evening with Gordon . . .” Doreen smiled. “I resolved to be better. I would study harder, I would beg Simon to take me back. I would be the very picture of purity and kindness and hard work. I would be you, Biz. But then Heidi came to me, she told me about what happened to Simon, how he'd been institutionalized. She showed me the article in the paper.”

“Oh god.” Biz wanted to cover her ears to block out the rest of Doreen's story, but she couldn't. She had to sit there and take it.

“And I realized that there was nothing to be done. More importantly, I realized that I didn't want to do anything. It was a gift, you see? A free pass. I could do what I wanted—enjoy the best things that life had to offer freely, without consequences. The picture would absorb the consequences for me. It was so liberating! Let the picture fester while I enjoyed life to the fullest!” Doreen's smile turned to a scowl. “But it was you, of course, nosy, tedious Elizabeth Gibbons-Brown who came sniffing around, asking after the picture. It had been just in my drawer then, but I knew it wasn't safe. So I wrapped the thing up and that's when I came down here and found the crawl space. The picture's been there ever since.” Doreen lifted the page off the desk and examined the image. “It's developed an impressive gruesomeness in there, I must say. And boy, have I had fun out in the world in the meantime.”

“Stop it!” Biz snapped the picture out of Doreen's hand and slammed it onto the desk. She took her cousin by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. Was the old Doreen in there somewhere? Surely she hadn't completely evaporated. “You have to stop this. Right now.” She pulled Doreen over to an empty part of the room and pushed her down to her knees. She collapsed beside her on the concrete floor, and gripping both of Doreen's hands with her own, she bowed her head.

“What are you doing? Let go of me!”

“Uh, hello? Um, God? This is . . .” Biz had never prayed in her life. She was an intellectual, she believed in science and logic. But there was nothing logical or scientific about what had happened to Doreen. And they had to appeal to whoever was in charge. It was their only hope. “Elizabeth Gibbons-Brown. And this is my cousin, Doreen Gray. She's sorry. She's so, so sorry.”

“Let go of me, I said!” Doreen pushed Biz away as hard as she could, knocking her to the ground, and stood up. She wiped the grit off her bare knees. “Ugh! I should never have told you. This was a mistake. How could I have been so stupid! Let go!” Biz had launched herself over to Doreen and held her by the ankles. Doreen kicked her away with her rubber boot.

“Dorie!” Biz hunched on the floor, sobbing. “Please! PLEASE! We have to save you! We have to put an end to this.” Biz grasped her hands together and looked up. “She's a good person. She's had a hard life. Please, forgive her! Doreen, ask. Ask for forgiveness.”

“No!”

“Ask! Ask and you shall receive, right?”

“Receive what? My old life back? No, thank you. I had nothing—NOTHING! Hardship. Vicious bullies, poverty. You don't know what I've endured. Indiana? That was a life for suckers! I want this life! I want this glorious, perfect, delectable life—the life reserved for beautiful people. I don't care what happens to that damned picture.”

“But it's not the picture that's damned, Doreen. It's you!”

Biz prayed fast and hard, her hands gripped together, her eyes closed tightly, eyeliner streaming down her face.

“And now you're going to tell everyone. I should never have brought you down here. I should have just ignored you. Oh, what difference would it have made? Damn. Damn!”

“She didn't mean any of it, you see? She's not a monster. She's kind. She's sweet. She loves classical music and dancing and making gardens in the backyard.”

“Oh, shut up, won't you? I'm trying to think!”

“She loves making mosaics out of pieces of broken china.”

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”

“She's a good person on the inside. She's just lost her way a little bit.”

“Quiet!” Doreen picked up the heavy flashlight and hurled it at Biz. It hit her hard on the head and she collapsed. Silence.

“Biz?” Doreen breathed hard. The body on the floor did not move. “Bizzy?” She crept over to her cousin and turned her onto her back. She put her two fingers to her neck, feeling for a pulse. Calmly, she stood up. Her mind was whirring, working out an idea. Everything would be okay! It would all work out in the end.

Well, not for Biz.

“Serves you right!” Doreen left Biz on the floor of the janitor's office and ran toward the stairwell and then—thinking again—came back and snatched the photo from the desk. Then she ran and ran and ran until she got to her room. She kicked off the rubber boots. She picked through the mess on the floor, finding an ugly, old flowered nightgown, a gift from her grandmother. Discarding the satin robe, the sexy underwear, she pulled the nightgown over her head. Her phone was on her bedside table. She worked up some tears before dialing.

She watched her face in the mirror. Innocent, frightened Doreen Gray. A damsel in distress. She played the part perfectly.

“Daddy? Are you awake? Daddy? Something terrible's happened. Can you come? I need you to come to my room right away. You're going to have to call Dean Crotchett. Daddy, I'm scared!”

The photo was there, on her bed. She slipped it into a drawer in her nightstand. She waited for the men to come save her.

Heidi awoke with a jolt. Today was the day she would tell her secret! Doreen and Peter and Biz, too (why not?)—everyone would come find out the full story of her life and she could stop hiding behind lies and half-truths. She jumped out of bed. She heard birds. Birds! Could it be spring? When had spring happened? Racing over to the window, she saw a sky that twinkled with possibility.

“Bizzy! Look out at the quad! It's gorgeous out.” But her roommate was not in her bed. It must be later than she thought, what time was it? Oh, what did it matter? All was new! Soon she would be free!

With Biz gone, Peter would have to be first. That was better, anyway. After all, Peter had gotten her started on her path toward truth. She had revealed her real self to him and he loved her for it. How beautiful life could be when one lived it honestly! Roland created her persona and made her worship it like an idol. Then Peter came along with a baseball bat and shattered it into a million pieces. Peter would love her no matter what. The conversation with Doreen would be more complicated, but she would think of that later. She picked up her phone.

“Hello?”

“Peter! Hi! Did I wake you?”

“Oh . . . Look, Heidi, you're going to be fine, okay?”

“Of course I am! Never better.” A robin hopped up the stairs to the library. “And I wanted to talk to you about something. I've, you know, there's some stuff in my past—ugly stuff that has been holding me back. Wow, this is harder than I thought. Hm. Can we talk in person? I know you were just here, but would you mind? It's really important. And I promise to make it worth your while.”

“Wait. Hold on, just wait a second. So Biz didn't tell you?”

“Biz? Tell me what? I—she's not here. I haven't seen her.” Something in his tone made her heart slow down and sink toward her middle.

“Shit, okay. Well, let's do this now. Heidi, it's over. We're done. There. Okay? The end.”

“Wait. What?”

“You and me. We're finished. I'm with Doreen now.”

“You're with . . . Doreen Gray? But that's not possible.”

“Yes. It started a while ago, when she was here in Boston. I came to keep her company—as a favor to you, actually. But then, I don't know, we have a special kind of connection. I know you fancy yourself . . . well, anyway, it's over. And that's all there is to it.”

“No. No, that's not, Doreen wouldn't—”

“Good-bye, Heidi. Lose this number, okay?”

“No! I . . . Hello? Hello? Peter?”

The silence in the room rang like a scream in Heidi's ears. So that was what she'd sensed before. She thought she was keeping a secret from Doreen, but it had been the other way around. And Heidi knew it, too. Hadn't she felt it ever since she got back from Boston? She was sure Roland had ratted her out, but it was Doreen's guilt about Peter that made her cagey. They had lied to her. Lied! Heidi thought they were her friends, that they would help her live a new, honest life.

But now she was alone. She had no Peter, no Doreen. She didn't even have her position at the top of the Chandler food chain. Doreen had taken that, too. She took Chandler and Roland and Peter and left her to rot. How could she let this happen? Why did she make herself so vulnerable? She thought she could have it all. So naïve! As if she was somebody instead of nobody with nothing nothing nothing nothing.

Heidi broke down into sobs. She cried for everything she'd lost. Never in her life had she felt so empty. There was only one person in the world she could trust, and that was Biz. She hoped she would get home soon. She would tell it all to Biz, who was so good and righteous and supportive.

Keys scraped in the door.

“Biz? Oh, thank god!” She threw the door wide, but it wasn't Biz. It was Mumzy, Gloria Gibbons-Brown. Perfectly coiffed and made up, she looked haggard nonetheless, like she'd been up all night.

“No. It's not, I'm afraid it's not Elizabeth, no. I—I've come for her things.”

“Her things?”

Mumzy crossed the common room and entered the bedroom.

Wiping her face on the edge of her tank top, Heidi followed close behind. “What is going on?”

“Luggage? Under the bed, right?” In her heels and skirt Gloria got down on her knees and pulled out a duffel bag and a wheeled trunk. Using the bed to hoist herself up, she turned to the closet. “I suppose I'll start with the clothes.” She passed her fingers along the dresses, blouses, skirts. “Lovely, aren't they?” Mumzy pulled out a bloodred, dip-dyed silk scarf. She wrapped it around her neck.

“We bought this in Paris. Roland bought it, I think.” In the mirror, she looked at herself, then pulled the scarf off and rubbed the silk against her cheek. “Of course, Biz never gave a hoot about any of this. All she wanted was books and art stuff. Cameras and drawing pads. Well, never mind. Do you want this stuff? It's yours. Take it if you want it.” She let the scarf drop to the floor.

“I don't understand. Where is Bi—Elizabeth? Is she all right? Did something happen?”

“She's in the hospital. With a concussion.”

“Oh my god.”

“Oh, she'll be fine. She is awake now, doing better. She thinks so, anyway. I haven't the heart to tell her.” Mumzy sat on Biz's bed. She stroked one of Biz's pillows with her hand, then moved her hand to her lap, and for a second Heidi could see a resemblance to her daughter. “Anyway. She's been expelled. So that's that.”

“Expelled?” Heidi followed Mumzy into the common room. “Sorry? No. There's been some kind of mistake. Expelled? That can't be right. Biz Gibbons-Brown is the valedictorian!”

“She is also a sexual predator, at least according to Doreen Gray. What can I do with this?” She stood in front of Biz's desk. “I'll have to send someone. Should I just leave it all? Do you have a box or something?”

“No, no! I'm afraid I'm going to be sick.” Heidi bent over and grabbed her knees, trying to find her breath.

Mumzy went into the bedroom and came back with the wheeled trunk. She slowly filled it with books. “Last night my niece called her father. She was distraught. She said that Biz had come on to her, that she'd threatened her with violence. My daughter apparently forced Doreen into a dodgy basement, and Doreen hit her in the head with a flashlight. She said she'd been defending herself.”

“But this is completely ridiculous! Doreen is Biz's cousin.”

“Yes, well. That's what makes it so depraved. At least, in my brother's eyes. And the dean's.”

“She's lying!”

Mumzy picked up Biz's camera. She turned it over and over in her hands. “Is there a case for this? Oh, here it is. It's useless to argue. My brother is Doreen's staunch defender. Apparently fourteen minutes of unestrangement make him an expert on his daughter's moral character. And Dean Crotchett is his old chum, you know, school days and all that. His response is to lecture me about Chandler's strict no-tolerance policy on sexual misconduct. They won't stand for victim-blaming, he told me. You know, I'm obviously a horrible mother to have raised such a demon.”

“No. No. This isn't right. You have to do something! After all your family has done for the school.”

Mumzy turned to Heidi. She looked careworn, overwhelmed, but also, for the first time since she'd met her, like someone's mother. “She was this close to getting everything she wanted. The poor thing, my daughter.” Her voice caught. She hugged herself, her neck collapsed as if her head was suddenly too heavy to hold up.

“Isn't there something we can do?”

“No.” Mumzy straightened up and swatted it all away with a jewel-heavy hand. She sucked in her breath and resumed packing. “She'll be fine. We have resources. Crotchett has agreed to keep the thing mum. Better for the school to do so. Better for the students. But for Elizabeth, who can say? Maybe she will end up a society maven after all.” She picked up a Rubik's Cube from Biz's bookshelf. “I was really very proud of her. I know it may sound strange, we often locked horns. But I admired her commitment to making something for herself. She was fearless. Don't you think?” She dropped the toy into the suitcase and turned to Heidi. “I know who you are, you know.”

“Yes. We've met many times.” Heidi paced around the suite, trying to land on a way to save her friend.

“But the first time was out at the beach, no? I suppose you were my brother's date. To that party in Bridgehampton. I lent you my gown.”

So Gloria had known all along. “Nothing ever happened between us. I hope you know that.”

“Unless you count blackmail. And exploitation. Right? I know he makes fun of me, but Roland tells me all about his little intrigues. You weaseled your way into my brother's bank account, then when that wasn't enough, into my son's pants and my daughter's dorm room. Ruining everything in the process. Yes. It seems to me that all was fine and dandy before you came into our lives. You and your obsession with our family.” Gloria's face was twisted with contempt.

“But that's not what it was. I mean, I can understand why you would think that.”

“What did you expect him to do, hm? Marry you? Adopt you?” Gloria faced Heidi, her jaw tight. “He paid a little attention to you for a couple of weeks and then he got bored. Boo-hoo. It seems to me that a first-class education more than made up for any kind of slight you must have felt. I told him he was a fool for doing it. Let her tell who she wants to tell, I said. But the money didn't matter to him, and I think he was curious about what would become of you. As if you would just politely disappear. But I knew better. And I was right, of course.”

Gloria slammed her hand on the desk. The sound of it felt like a slap on the face.

“This is not my fault.”

“No? Isn't it? Then why are you here? Why are you always here?”

“I don't know.” Heidi sunk down onto the carpet and buried her head in her knees. Gloria was right. Roland didn't owe Heidi anything. Was it his fault that she couldn't bear to call home? Was he really to blame for how ashamed she'd become of her family, and how ashamed she was of herself because of it? It was easier to hate him than it was to hate herself, but the fact was that the only one responsible for what she'd become was Heidi Whelan.

“I don't know what happened,” said Heidi. “I got in over my head.”

“Yes, well, pardon me for not caring.” Gloria turned back toward Biz's desk.

“Biz is different,” Heidi said. “She matters to me.”

“How wonderful for her.”

“No. Listen, this was Doreen. Okay? She's the one who did this. And I'm not going to let her get away with it. I'm going to make this right. I'm going to fix it. I can be good, too. You just have to trust me, I'm different now.” Heidi changed into running shorts and a sports bra. She tied on her sneakers.

“Where are you going? To exercise?”

“I've made a lot of mistakes, Gloria. But I'm going to make this better for Biz. She doesn't deserve this. I'll do anything. I'll make this all go away somehow.”

“I feel sorry for you. Don't you know by now that Roland always wins?”

“Not this time,” Heidi said. She ran out the door.