Chapter 15
Charlotte applied the deodorant cream under her arm, the rotating movement bouncing her breasts rhythmically. Reaching for a bra, she got into it, snapped it, then quickly stepped into her pink panties.
She had to hurry. At least, she would lead all the others to believe that she was going to catch the one o'clock train for the one-thirty plane connection to New Orleans.
So far her plan was working. She smiled. It was so simple. She'd concocted this wild plan about a business trip-sudden emergency-on which, she'd informed everyone, she'd be gone for days.
In reality, she was not stepping off the plantation. Instead, she would sneak off to the cabin on the opposite side of the house, remain there out of sight until evening, and then she would be free to look. Nobody went to the dilapidated cabin anymore; she knew it would be a safe place to hide. She'd thought of the plan for days. The more Carol seemed to withdraw from her, the more tempted she became to set her plan in motion. Well, today was the day.
For a long time she'd trusted Carol purely on instinct. Obviously, she had been a damn fool. She was being taken, right down the line.
Charlotte shrugged her shoulders in weariness. She had tried everything with the girl. But the more she gave, the more Carol seemed to resent her. Ever since that night when she had stolen into her room and used the strap-and that was two weeks ago-Carol had avoided her. Every time she slipped into the girl's room, Carol would pretend she was asleep or use one excuse after another for not seeing her. Lately Carol had taken to wandering about the property at night. Charlotte had heard the girl slip out of the house. She could only imagine where she went.
There had to be someone Carol was seeing. Still it was hard for Charlotte to believe that. Why would Carol want to jeopardize everything for an affair-a one night stand? And it seemed ridiculous that Cal or Abraham or any of the hands would fool around with Carol-nobody would dare-they knew where they stood-and the house and everybody in it was off-limits to them. But there was someone-there had to be. It was up to her to find out who it was. Once she did this, she would eliminate that man, or woman, whatever it might be. If there were other upcoming attractions in Carol's life, she would do the same thing-eliminate. Through this process of elimination, Carol would soon realize it was impossible to escape Charlotte's firm hand, and the girl would be forced to stop her flirtations.
Charlotte got into her dress. She felt alone-so alone. Things had been going so well; but now, her whole life, her little world, had turned upside down. Carol avoided her at every turn, seldom came to dinner, skipped work for days at a time. Why was the girl showing her contempt?
What Carol had told her in the beginning, and the good times they'd shared all those months-the intimate, precious things they spoke about-were these all lies?
A sense of loneliness, of desperate isolation began to possess her. She shivered, folded her arms and hunched up her shoulders. Nothing in her life seemed to matter anymore. Without Carol there was no reason for being.
All she wanted from Carol was a sense of loyalty and some love. Carol mattered to her very much. She was obsessed by the girl, obsessed to the point of spying on her, forcing Carol to remain true to her, if need be.
Promiscuousness was separating them. And the girl's guilt was driving them apart. What caused promiscuousness? It was a man, or a girl like Carol, tired of her situation, unhappy, resentful. If Carol really was smart about it, she would ask herself why am I doing this? How much will it cost me? Promiscuity was a primitive feeling, Charlotte knew that, any kid in high school knew it. Everybody had this desire to run wild. But with knowledge, security and love, one did not need anyone else. Hadn't Charlotte given Carol security, love, a whole new life?
Now Charlotte asked herself the age-old question. Had Carol grown weary of her love?
If she had, then she would have to make the girl think of the other things, of what she would inherit.
She buckled a bracelet around her wrist and stepped back to look into the mirror.
Was Carol's thinking diffused? Or hers? Was their kind of love right? Hell, of course it was. There are thousands of people like me in the world-people like Carol. Sure, our kind of love was right. Besides, she thought, the stigma of taboo ... criminal act ... distortion ... which applied to male homosexuality never had really applied to women-and never would. Society was very tolerant of female homosexuality. It might be in to be a homo right now-but that too dies out-and women had always been safe as far back as biblical days. That alone meant a great deal in their favor. See? she told herself, there are things Carol doesn't know about.
Eventually they could be quite daring about it on the plantation. Besides, what the hell was she afraid of? She held the upper hand. She owned the plantation. She had millions!
"I'll take you to the depot."
Charlotte turned and saw Carol standing in the doorway.
"Oh, hello," she said. "No. I'm driving myself. I'll leave the car at the garage we use." Charlotte went for her bag.
"I'll get it for you," Carol said.
"Thanks."
Charlotte followed Carol out and down the stairs. When they got to the car in front of the house, Carol opened the back door of the Ford and put the suitcase on the back seat.
"Only one bag?" she asked. "I'm only going for a short time, three days."
"That means you'll be coming back on Thursday morning, right?"
"Yes." Charlotte got into the car.
"Charlotte?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry about the way I've been acting. I think when you get back I'll be myself again."
Charlotte started the motor. "Good-bye, Carol."
"See you Thursday," Carol called after the moving car.
She waited until the car was out of sight, then walked back to the house, feeling a strange fear of impending trouble. For the first time in her life, she felt a fear of death. She was afraid that she might die before she'd really begun to live....