Chapter 16
Jennifer stood before the oval mirror, stroking her fine bright hair with the silver brush. She was so completely captivated by her image, so enthralled, that she heard nothing but her own whispers.
"Jennifer, you have lovely eyes," she said, bending closer to look deep inside them. "Your daddy's eyes, but so perfect with your coloring. A tiny bit of pastel-blue, I think. Just a trace..."
She reached for the little box of eye shadow, and opened its lid. Her pinky probed into it and came out covered with the goo. She spread it thickly, too thickly, over her tender transparent lids. For a long time, she examined the results in the looking glass, arching her head to get all possible angles, delighted with what she saw. Then she looked away at last, only to choose a lipstick from the array on the table next to her.
She didn't hear the breathing so close to her ear, on the other side. She didn't hear any sighs or cackling laughter as her unseen admirer rocked on his green haunches with glee. She didn't hear the wind dying outside the house, or the voices downstairs.
Lisa emptied the contents of her soaking wet scarf onto Richard's desk. Bits of damp grass clung to the setting of the diamond brooch. The wedding ring rolled off the desk onto the carpet. No one stooped to pick it up.
"The dining room window was wide open. Thesewere on the ground. Just thrown out, all over the muddy ground." Lisa's tone was a mixture of awe and disgust and righteousness. She waited for Richard to say something, but he only closed his eyes and sank back into his chair.
"Catharine..." He lapsed into silence, hiding his face in his hands.
"Is Miss Catharine gone?" Abel asked anxiously.
"Like her mother before her," Lisa said, shaking her head. She had known it all the time. Had a premonition. You couldn't put anything over on her.
Richard looked up. His face was dry. "Abel, call the airlines ... start with the one she had booked for, but call them all if you have to. Find out if she flew to Europe ... and oh, yes, call the inn first ... she said she would go to the inn for the night ... maybe..."
"Without her jewels, I suppose," Lisa snorted. "You're not goin' to find her, Mr. Richard."
Abel, glad of something to do, was thumbing through the yellow pages of the telephone book with as much efficiency as he could muster. Between each flipping of the pages, he stuck his finger into his mouth to wet it.
Jennifer's mouth was glistening wet with a heavy application of too much lipstick. Now her pink tongue tip protruded ever so slightly from her garishly red mouth, as she concentrated on brushing her eyelashes with the thick creamy paste that had made them heavy and bubbled.
The effect was a kind of freakish glamour, a pastiche of beauty at once make-believe and erotic, outrageous and magnificent. It was a total metamorphosis of innocence into decadence, child into whore. Playing the delicious game to the hilt, Jennifer began slowly to unbutton her little nightie.
"Now ... I must dress for dinner. I wonder what I should wear..."
The nightgown slipped from her shoulder.
The transformation was complete, and final. There was no going back, she knew that. In the oval mirror, she saw only what she had become. The light from within the glass was no longer warm, but harsh and burning, like a fire when someone has ventured too close.
Her eyes, gem-green now, shone back at her coldly. Her tongue flicked out of her mouth like a sharp silver knife. Her body shivered and heaved with uncontrollable lust. She threw herself against the hard surface of the mirror, but there was no comfort there now. A scorpion struck at her face, and withdrew to strike again. It left a hideous bleeding welt, but she did not feel it in her agony. She stroked herself frantically, rubbing the mucous which stained her skin all over the tender places, over her breasts and inside her thighs, up inside the oozing hot place ... but it was no good. The mirror had destroyed her. She heard the others moaning and calling, and she turned to them. She was one of them now. With greedy glinting eyes, she headed for the deep pit where she had seen the pretty little boy. Maybe he would let her ... and then she would ... drooling from both ends, Catharine limped painfully toward her comrades in Hell.
The gnarled green demon watched until Catharine left, and then he sprinted back to take his place before the oval frame. He curled down with his slimy green butt on his scrawny ankles, rocking back and forth ever so slightly, gazing intently through the glass, watching Jennifer staring at him from the other side. '
Her lovely face was rapt as she stared at herself. "Yes," she breathed into the mirror, "I am beautiful. You are beautiful, Jennifer. I love you."