Comes the Blind Fury

decided she liked that feeling.

She opened the door to the nursery. Jennifer’s cries were suddenly louder. Michelle picked up the crying baby, cradling it against her chest as she had been taught by her mother.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” she whispered to Amanda.

“Do something to her,” Amanda whispered back.

“Do something? Why?”

“She’s like the others … she’s not your friend …”

“She’s my sister,” Michelle protested uncertainly.

“No, she isn’t,” Amanda told her. “She’s their daughter, not your sister. They love her, not you.”

“That isn’t true.”

“It is true. You know it’s true. You have to do something.” The whisper became intense, urging Michelle, commanding her.

She looked down into the face of the baby, saw Jenny’s tiny features, grimacing with unhappiness, and suddenly, unreasonably, she wanted to squeeze her, wanted to make her stop crying, wanted to punish her.

Her arms tightened, and she pressed Jennifer against her chest.

Jennifer’s screams took on a note of pain.

Michelle squeezed harder. Jenny’s cries seemed to fade away, and the sound of Amanda’s voice grew louder.

“That’s right,” the voice crooned in her ear. “Harder. Squeeze her harder …”

Jenny’s eyes began to bulge in her head, and her little arms flailed as she tried to breathe. The wailing was growing softer, turning into a whimper.

“Just a little more …” the voice whispered.

And then June appeared at the nursery door. “Michelle? Michelle, what’s happening?”

It was as if a switch had been turned. The voice in Michelle’s head was gone. She stared first at her mother, then down into Jennifer’s face. She realized she was squeezing the baby, squeezing it so hard, she was hurting it. She relaxed the pressure. Jennifer suddenly stopped crying and gasped a little. The slight bluish cast to her skin faded, and her eyes seemed to ease back to a normal position. “I–I heard her crying,” Michelle said. “When you didn’t come up, I came in to see what was wrong. All I did was pick her up …”

June took Jenny, who had once more begun to sob, and cuddled her against her breast.

“I was out in the studio. I couldn’t hear her. But it’s all right now.” She stroked the crying Jennifer, and made soothing noises. “I’ll take care of her,” she told Michelle. “You go on back to your room. Okay?”

For a moment, Michelle hesitated. She didn’t want to go back to her room. She wanted to stay here, with her mother and her sister.

Amanda’s voice came back to her, reminding her that Jennifer was not her sister. And this woman was not her mother. Not really. Her mind filled with confused images and thoughts, Michelle limped out of the nursery, made her way down the hall to her room.

She lay on the bed, cradling her doll in her arms, staring at the ceiling.

It was all starting to make sense to her now.…

Amanda was right.

She was alone.

Except for Amanda.

Amanda was her friend.

“I love you,” she whispered to the doll. “I love you more than anything in the world.”

When Cal came home that afternoon June was sitting in the kitchen, holding Jennifer on her lap, gazing out at the sea. He paused at the kitchen door, and watched them. The indirect light of the afternoon cast a soft glow over them, and for a moment Cal was overwhelmed by the beauty of the scene — the mother and child, his wife and daughter, with the window and the cove beyond framing them almost like a halo. But when June turned to face him, his feeling of well-being was shattered.

“Sit down, Cal. I have to talk to you.” He didn’t need to be told that she wanted to talk about Michelle.

“Something’s wrong,” June began. “It’s more than her limp, and God knows that’s bad enough. Something happened at school today, or after school. She wouldn’t tell me what, but it frightened her.”

“Well, it was her first day back—” Cal began, but June didn’t let him finish.

“There’s more. I was out in the studio this afternoon, working. I heard Jenny crying, and when I went up to take care of her, Michelle was there. She was holding Jenny, and she had the strangest look on her face. As if she wasn’t aware of what was going on. And she was squeezing Jenny.…” Her voice trailed off, the memory of the afternoon still vivid in her mind.

Cal remained silent for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was strained.

“What are you trying to say? You think something’s wrong with Michelle?”

“We know something’s wrong with her,” June began, but this time Cal didn’t let her finish.

“She fell, and she got bruised, and she’s missed some school. But she’s getting better every day.”

“She’s not getting better. You wish she were, but if you’d spend some time with her, you’d see that she’s not the same girl she used to be.” Against her will, June’s voice began to rise. “Something’s happening to her, Cal. She’s turning into a recluse, spending all her time by herself with that damned doll, and I want to know why. And as for you, you’re going to spend some time with her, Cal. You’re going to go with me when I take her to school tomorrow, and you’re going to go with me when I pick her up. And in the evenings, you’re going to stop burying yourself in Jenny and your journals, and start paying some attention to Michelle, Is that clear?”

Cal stood up, his face dark, his eyes brooding. “Let me handle my life my own way, all right?”

“It’s not your life,” June shot back. “It’s my life, and Michelle’s life, and Jenny’s life, tool I’m sorry about everything that’s happened, and I wish I could help you. But my God, Cal, what about Michelle? She’s a little girl and she needs us. We have to be there for her. Both of us!”

But Cal didn’t hear her last words. He had already left the kitchen, hurrying down the hall to the living room, where he closed the door behind him, poured himself a drink, and tried to shut out his wife’s words, accusing him, forever accusing him.

But the words would not be shut out.

He would have to prove her wrong.

Prove to her, and to himself, that everything was fine, that Michelle was all right. That he was all right.

That evening, after dinner, Michelle appeared in the living room, her chess set tucked under her arm. “Daddy?”

Cal was sitting in his chair, reading a journal, while June sat opposite him, knitting. He made himself smile at his daughter. “Hmmm?”

“Want to play a game?” She rattled the box of chessmen.

Cal was about to beg off, when June shot him a look of warning. “Okay,” he said without enthusiasm. “Set it up while I get a drink.”

Michelle carefully lowered herself to the floor, her left leg sticking out awkwardly, and began setting up the chessboard. By the time her father returned, she had already made her first move. Cal settled himself on the floor.

Michelle waited.

He seemed to be studying the board, but Michelle wasn’t sure. Finally, she spoke.

“It’s your move, Daddy.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Automatically, Cal reached out to counter Michelle’s opening. She frowned slightly and wondered what was wrong with her father’s game. Tentatively, she began setting him up for a fool’s mate.

Again, Cal sat silently staring at the board, sipping his drink, until Michelle reminded him that it was his move. When he made his play, Michelle looked up at him in astonishment Didn’t he see what she was up to? He’d never let her get away with this before. She advanced her queen.

June put her knitting aside, and came to look at the board. Seeing Michelle’s strategy, she winked at her daughter, then waited for Cal to spoil the gambit. But Cal didn’t seem aware of what was happening.

“Cal? It’s your move.”