Another Faust (37 page)

Each of them had a role in that night’s dinner. Madame Vileroy had assigned each of them something special to do. No one was enthusiastic about it but Belle. Still, they had to keep up appearances. There wasn’t any preparation involved. They would just switch to the blue-cube house a few minutes before Thomas arrived. The sights, sounds, and smells of a home-cooked Alsatian feast would be conjured up. And Thomas would leave with a great impression. Madame Vileroy playing a beautiful Parisian June Cleaver was just the image she wanted him to take home to his dad. It would do him good. After all, Madame Vileroy deduced, he was in need of an adviser. And who wouldn’t trust someone as wholesome as she? What man wouldn’t take her into his confidence?

The doorbell rang and Belle jumped up to get it. She realized right afterward that she was revealing way too much of herself to Madame Vileroy, and immediately slowed down. Thomas was at the door with a bouquet of lilies.

“Hi!” he said as he handed her the flowers and tried to kiss her on the cheek. But Belle was so aware of Madame Vileroy that she turned, and he kissed the back of her head instead.

“How festive,” said Madame Vileroy as she approached the door.

“They’re for everyone. To thank you for having me over,” said Thomas after recovering from his fumble.

Christian took Thomas’s coat. No one noticed him wobble a little as he walked to the closet, still not used to standing up. Bicé went to find a vase.

Thomas took a seat at the couch. Belle sat next to him, as if the two of them were on an interview. Vileroy was standing across the room, leaning with uncharacteristic casualness on a table that Valentin was sitting on. As usual, he was charming, a little shady, and too close to Vileroy. With her eyes, Belle told him to get off the table. But he just crossed his legs tighter and continued to sit cross-legged on top of the dining table.

“You have a lovely home, Madame Vileroy,” said Thomas. He sat with his hands folded on his lap.

“Thank you, dear. We were lucky to find it on such short notice.”

“So, Tommy,” said Valentin with twinkling eyes, “how’s your mommy?”

Belle gasped audibly and gave him a deadly look. That comment was a bit too much, even for Valentin.

Thomas tried to lighten up, laughed a little, and said, “Still dead.”

Valentin seemed to enjoy Thomas’s response, as if he were experimenting with how far he could go. He leaned close and opened his mouth to speak again, but Madame Vileroy put a loving hand on his shoulder and whispered something in his ear. He seemed to change tack.

“I’m sorry . . .” he said. Then he looked over at Vileroy as if he were about to do something reckless and quickly added, “I just assumed that was a lie to keep people from knowing she ran off or something.”

Just then, Victoria walked in. She was wearing the sweats she wore when pulling all-nighters studying. “Hi, Thomas,” she said as she walked across the room. “I’m glad you made it.” Meanwhile, Belle was getting more and more incensed. She had specifically gotten Victoria’s promise that she would dress nice. And Victoria usually dressed decently anyway. Why had she picked tonight to get the Bicé makeover?

“Thanks,” said Thomas, standing up. When he sat back down, Victoria stayed where she was, towering over Belle and Thomas. “So you’re here to court our pretty sister.”

Thomas gave the courtesy laugh. “That’s one way to put it.” Belle shifted back on the couch and pushed the words
Stop being so rude. Sit down
to the front of her brain, where Victoria, who never stopped cheating, would be sure to hear. But Victoria ignored her.

“What’s the other way?”

“Victoria!” said Belle out loud. She felt herself jump out of her seat.

“What? Calm down.” Victoria seemed to be enjoying herself.

“Calm down, Belle,” said Vileroy. Belle was confused now. Wasn’t Vileroy the one who had wanted Thomas to come over? Wasn’t she the one who had wanted to lure him and his powerful father into their net? Belle hadn’t wanted him to come over. But Vileroy had forced her to invite him. So why was she letting Valentin and Victoria behave like this? Belle sat back on the couch and crossed her arms.

“So I hear you have some big plan for the debate tournament,” said Victoria.

Thomas turned and looked at Belle. She shrugged nervously. “Sure, I guess,” he said.

“Well?” said Victoria.

Belle sat up again. “What are you doing, Victoria? Just go away. Madame Vileroy —”

“So what’s the plan?” said Victoria, still looming over the two of them.

Thomas tried to laugh it off.

“You should probably tell her,” said Valentin, his eyes widening as though he were trying to scare Thomas but was obviously having fun. “She has a way of finding things out. . . .”

“It’s just a debate tournament,” said Thomas, still laughing.

But Victoria wasn’t laughing. What seemed so petty and small to Thomas was Victoria’s next prize. She would do anything. . . . “It’d be best for you if you told me what you’re planning,” she said.

Belle was on the verge of tears now. She seemed calmer, though, as if she knew what was going on.

“I think maybe I should leave,” said Thomas.

“No,” said Belle instinctively, then suddenly seemed to change her mind and said, “OK.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” said Victoria. “I’m getting what I want if I have to break your head open and puzzle back the pieces of your brain.”

Belle stood up. “Victoria, stop it right now.”

“Relax,” said Victoria. “Vileroy won’t let him remember any of this. He’ll go nuts if he stays awake another minute.” Victoria gave Thomas a crazed look of pure satisfaction. Valentin was playing with that old pocket watch again. Madame Vileroy patted him on the leg and nodded to Victoria.

“Won’t let him remember what?” said Belle.

“I’m going to read his mind. What do you think?” said Victoria. Then she turned to Thomas, who was looking horrified. “This wouldn’t be a problem if you paid less attention in school. I keep trying to burrow into your thoughts, and you keep realizing something’s going on. But we have our pretty little bait here, and you followed her right home. Now if you wouldn’t mind just —”

Thomas stood up. “Get away from me.”

“Don’t do this,” said Belle.

“Shhh . . . I want to see her do it. Go ahead, Vic, let’s see some cheating,” said Valentin.

“What’s going on?” said Christian, stumbling back in.

“Belle, what’s wrong?” said Bicé with a worried tone and her usual nervous scan as she followed Christian into the living room.

Everyone was standing in the living room, staring at one another. Belle was already shaking, the way she did before she wept.

Bicé sensed that something horrible had just happened. She resisted the urge to cower behind Christian and said, “We’re going to redo all this, aren’t we? Valentin, whatever just happened, fix it!” Her eyes darted from Belle to Victoria to Thomas.

But Valentin didn’t have time to respond. Madame Vileroy suddenly lunged out toward Thomas. Her black dress flapped behind her like wings. For a second, Belle thought she saw her make a face like a gargoyle — she had seen it before, once. In that instant, Madame Vileroy almost enveloped Thomas, and Belle couldn’t be sure of what she saw. She shrieked. Victoria was knocked out of the way. Bicé put down the vase and rushed to Belle’s side.

Thomas stopped midexclamation. His entire body wilted and fell lifeless on the couch. Like a cub whose mother has just brought home a carcass, Victoria pounced. She arranged Thomas’s legs so that he was sitting upright on the couch.

Belle was seething with anger and paralyzed with the fear that she had caused all this. After all that scheming from afar, all that research into what perfumes he liked best, what kind of hairstyles caught his attention — somehow — Belle had actually met the real Thomas Goodman-Brown and, believe it or not, she had begun to like him. Now she was staring as Victoria ran to the back of the couch and pulled him up by his sweater so he wouldn’t slump.

Madame Vileroy moved back to the dining room table and poured herself a glass of wine. Valentin, who had finally lost his power of speech, was watching Victoria with awe.

“A glass of wine, my dear?” Madame Vileroy offered Valentin, as if nothing were going on in her living room.

“Sure,” he said. They clinked their crystal glasses and drank. They almost seemed to disappear into the corner of the room.

“What are you going to do?” cried Belle. “You can’t hurt him.”

“Shh,” said Victoria. She pulled up a chair across from the couch. She moved her face close to Thomas’s, at first only reading the thoughts on the surface. There wasn’t really much there since he was unconscious. She began boring deeper and deeper into his subconscious. It was invigorating to move so deeply into someone’s mind without having them flail and fight and yell at her to stop. She didn’t have to worry about Thomas feeling violated or losing his mind.

“No, tell me now,” Belle interrupted.

Victoria couldn’t keep her focus with Belle talking to her. She looked up. Belle looked like she was about to attack. Bicé had moved next to her for support. Christian was behind her in case she wanted to look away, or cry on a shoulder, or something like that.

“I’m getting the information I need,” said Victoria. “Stay out of my way.”

“I don’t want to do this. I never agreed to this.”

“Yes, you did. You agreed to bring him.”

“But — but I was forced. I don’t want to —”

Victoria hated that weak prissy debutante crap. She had hated Belle from the day they met — when all five children were only ten. She hated all her dainty airs covering her disgusting stench. She turned on Belle and began to shout.

“First of all, shut the hell up. Second of all, stop pretending. You agreed to all of this, just like me. You’re not some pretty-pretty princess with all us ogres. You’re one of us. You signed the deal Vileroy offered, you sold your soul, and now you owe the devil her due. So back up, let me search this idiot’s head, and we’ll all be back to pretending you’re the good little prom queen you wish you were.”

Christian groaned. Victoria whipped around and seemed to realize for the first time that Christian and Bicé were in the room. For a moment, she looked taken aback, as if she had let something valuable get away and didn’t know what to do now. She whispered a curse to herself and then turned her back to finish what she had come to do.

Madame Vileroy and Valentin became visible in the room again. The air was sucked from the room. Bicé stood motionless. Suddenly she understood so much more. Belle began to swing her arm in a wild slap at Victoria, but Christian caught her by the wrist. She struggled to get free but felt a twinge of pain, a loss of strength so delicate that she just felt a little sleepy. She rested her tired head on Christian’s shoulder. Christian just stood there, shaking a little, his mouth open, his shoulders aching, his mind bursting with questions.

Later that night, after Victoria had learned more than she could ever find out from the moths, Vileroy adjusted Thomas’s memories so that he thought he had had a wonderful time. Bicé sat in the chair in Christian’s room. “Why don’t we remember?” said Christian.

“What, selling our souls? Being adopted into the house of the devil? Charging into the world as agents of the fallen angel? I have no idea, Christian. I don’t have a clue. Stop asking stupid questions,” Bicé said hysterically.