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"So what?" she said after a moment. "I don't want anyone to know it just yet."
"But why? How long have you been able to stand and walk?"
"Awhile," she admitted.
"But why have you kept it a secret?" "I get treated better," she confessed.
"Gisselle . how could you do this? All these people, everyone slaving over you ... Could you walk before Daddy died? Could you?" I demanded when she didn't respond, but she didn't have to respond. I knew she could. "How horrible! You could have made him feel so much better."
"I was going to tell him as soon as we were permitted to go home and leave this terrible place, but as long as I had to stay here, I wasn't going to tell anyone," she said.
"How did it happen? I mean, when did you realize you could stand?"
"I was always trying to do it, and one day I just did." I sat down on her bed, my mind in turmoil.
"Oh, stop making such a big thing over it," she ordered. She stood up and walked to the closet. The sight of her walking so easily seemed so incongruous. It was as if I had fallen into a dream. At full height again and able to use her limbs, Gisselle appeared changed to me. It was as if she had grown taller and stronger while confined to her wheelchair. I watched her brush her hair for a few moments, everything I had suspected now rushing over me.
"It was you, wasn't it?" I cried, pointing at her.
"Me? Whatever are you talking about now, Ruby?" she asked, pretending ignorance.
"It was you who was with Buck Dardar that night, wasn't it? That's why your shoes are caked with mud. You snuck down there and-"
"So what? He was the only game in town, although I must admit, he was quite a good lover. I hated to see him go, but when you were accused of being there, I thought it was perfect. Finally we'd get out of here too. Then your own loverboy had to appear and get you off the hook. Crummy luck."
"Did Buck think you were me? Did you tell him your name was Ruby?"
"I did, but I don't know whether he believed it or not. Let's just say he was happy to pretend I was anyone I wanted to be as long as I appeared."
"How often . . . All those times you kept this door locked," I said, turning to her door. I looked at the window.
"That's right. I would crawl out the window and have my rendezvous. Pretty exciting, huh? I bet you wish you had thought of it now."
"I do not." I pulled myself up. "You're going to march out of here right now and tell the truth," I said. "Especially to Mrs. Gray."
"Oh, am I? Well I'm not ready to let people know I can stand and walk," she said, returning to her chair.
"I don't care if you're ready or not. You will tell," I assured her, but she didn't seem intimidated. She wheeled herself toward me and looked up at me with hard, cold eyes.
"I will not," she said, "and if you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone, I'll tell Mrs. Ironwood about you and your precious Miss Stevens. That oughta do her in for sure."
"What? What are you saying?"
She smiled.
"Everyone knows about pretty little Miss Stevens who's afraid of boys but who likes to be around girls," she said, smiling. "Especially you, huh?"
It was as if a match had been lit in my stomach. The flame of anger singed my heart and sent smoke into my brain. I gasped.
"That's a disgusting, terrible lie, and if you tell anyone such a thing . ."
"Don't worry. I'll keep your secret as long as you keep mine," she said. "Is it a deal?"
I stared down at her, my mouth open, but words not coming, my tongue numb.
"I take your silence to mean it's a deal. Fine." She turned and wheeled herself to the door to unlock it. "Now, I do need some rest before dinner. Oh, and thanks for straightening up my room. I have been too hard on myself, trying to be independent. I might call on you to do little things for me from time to time. As long as we stay here," she added.
"Of course, once we're gone from this place . . ."
