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"I've been on the short end of the stick long enough," she told him. "Now it's my turn to be the high and mighty."
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They made Charlotte show them the liquor cabinet and then sent her off to change the linens. While we worked on the suite, Aunt Fern and Morton took a bottle of brandy and some glasses and waited in the living room. They played the old records on the victrola and behaved like two children, giggling and knocking things over, ringing the old dinner bells, flicking lights on and off and chasing each other through the rooms. Every once in a while, we heard one of Aunt Fern's shrill laughs carry through the hallways of the plantation house.
I told Charlotte to put the things from the vanity table into a bag, but hide them.
"You can put them back after Fern leaves, if you like," I said. That pleased her, but she was still very troubled about what was happening. Reluctantly, Gavin helped with some of the cleaning. He did the windows. After Luther brought up the broom he left, muttering angrily to himself. I dusted and polished all the furniture and then turned to the bathroom. It took me nearly an hour just to do the sink, tub arid commode. Gavin was furious when I did get down on my hands and knees to scrub stains of the floor I had already dumped three pails of dirty water and my face and hands were streaked with the grime and dust I was removing.
"This is stupid," he said. "Let's just wake up Jefferson and leave. Philip won't find us."
"That won't stop Aunt Fern from doing some-thing to hurt Charlotte and Luther, Gavin. You know how vicious and vindictive she can be when she wants to. Let's just do what she asks. Soon she and her boyfriend will grow bored and leave anyway, and then we can make new plans."
"I don't know how she can be Jimmy's sister arid my half-sister and be so mean to people," Gavin said, shaking his head.
"Don't forget she was given to another family when she was only a baby and lived with them until Mommy and Daddy found her," I reminded him. "Her life was quite disrupted."
"Stop making excuses for her, Christie. She's just a cruel, self-centered person who loves only herself and what will make her happy. I don't think she's ever done anything for anyone else her whole life and I doubt she ever will."
"And just who are you talking about, Gavin Longchamp?" Aunt Fern demanded, coming into the room. "Not me, I hope."
"If the shoe fits, wear it," Gavin muttered, but Aunt Fern was too tipsy from her drinking to hear or really care. She and Morton laughed and then the two of them flopped on the bed and groped at each other as if we weren't there. Gavin and I gaped in astonishment. Finally, Aunt Fern looked up, her eyelids drooping.
"Aren't you finished here yet?" she complained. "This was a lot of work, Aunt Fern. We told you before that . . ."
"Oh, stop lecturing. We're ready for bed. Not for sleep," she added smiling, "for bed. Right, Morton?"
He had his eyes closed, but he formed a silly smile.
"So get your rags together, princess, and shut the door behind you on the way out, comprende?"
"Come on," Gavin said, lifting me to my feet. "Let's go. She's as drunk as a sailor."
"You two should try some of that old, old brandy" she cried, and both she and Morton went into a fit of hysterical laughter again. "Aunt Charlotte thought it was spoiled," she added and then laughed some more.
Gavin guided me to the doorway. When we turned around, Aunt Fern had thrown herself over Morton's prostrate body. He seemed too drunk and too tired to care.
"Oh," Aunt Fern said, turning back to us. "I forgot to ask . . . when do the spirits arrive?"
Her resounding laughter echoed behind us as we closed the door and stepped out of the suite.
"I hope the spirits do come," Gavin said, his dark eyes bright with anger, "and whisk her off to hell where she belongs."
I was exhausted from all the work and too tired to care. We went down the corridor to our bathroom to wash up and go to sleep ourselves. Fatigued and drowning in emotions, I got into bed and fell into dreams.
But maybe the spirits did come. Sometime during the night, I awoke to what I thought were the sounds of footsteps in the hallway. I was sure I heard a door slam and the sounds of someone sobbing, but I was too tired to get up and check. The spirits won't harm us, I thought, and if in the morning, we find that Aunt Fern and her boyfriend have mysteriously disappeared, I won't bat an eyelash or shed a tear. In moments, I fell asleep again.
It was the sound of Aunt Fern's shrill scream that woke me in the morning. She hadn't been whisked off to hell, not yet.
"What's going on?" Jefferson asked, rubbing his eyes and standing in the doorway. "Who's screaming?"
"It's Fern," Gavin said, coming in from the hallway. "She's calling for us."
"Fern? Aunt Fern's here?" Jefferson asked.
"Unfortunately, yes," I told him.
"Why is she screaming?"
