Blackwood Farm (15 page)

Read Blackwood Farm Online

Authors: Anne Rice

Tags: #Fiction

“I think I stammered out something to the effect that Goblin was always around except when he was hiding, as if it wasn't a matter of whether he made me happy or not, and then Goblin began to tug on my hand to drag me from the room. I said ‘Behave, Goblin!' just as Sweetheart sometimes said to me, ‘Behave, Quinn!' and Goblin, pouting and making faces, disappeared.

“I started to cry. Aunt Queen was very distressed at this and asked the reason, and I told her that now Goblin would not come back for a long time. He'd wait and wait until I was crying and crying, and then he would come.

“Aunt Queen pondered this for a long time and said that I mustn't cry. ‘You know what I think, Quinn?' she asked. ‘I think if you remain quiet and pretend you don't need him, Goblin will come back.'

“It did the trick. As I was helping her and Big Ramona to unpack suitcases, as I was playing with Aunt Queen's cameos, which she set out on her famous marble table, along came Goblin, peeping around the door and then pouting and sulking and coming in.

“Aunt Queen didn't mind my murmuring to him as I explained who she was and that everybody called her Miss Queen but we were to call her Aunt Queen, and when Big Ramona went to correct me and tell me to hush, Aunt Queen said, No, let me go on.

“ ‘Now, Goblin, don't run off again,' Aunt Queen said, and once more I was certain she could see him, but she said that she couldn't, and was only taking my word for the fact that he was there.

“For the entirety of Aunt Queen's visit she spoke to me as if I were an adult, and I also slept in her bed with her. She sent into town for some men's white T-shirts, size large, and I wore these as my little white nightshirts. And I snuggled up to her spoon fashion as I did with Little Ida, and I slept so deeply not even Goblin could wake me before I heard Aunt Queen's call to get up.

“Little Ida was a tiny bit put out over this, as she and I had been bedfellows since I was a baby, but Aunt Queen soothed her so that she let it go. I liked the white canopy over our heads better than the satin-lined baldachin in my own room up here.

“Let me move to another recollection which must come from the same time. Aunt Queen and I drove into New Orleans in her big stretch limousine. I'd never been in a car like it, but I remember little of it, except that Goblin sat on my right side and Aunt Queen on my left. Goblin tried to stay solid, but he flashed transparent numerous times.

“What struck me that day most strongly was that we got out on a shady side street with a long brick sidewalk, and all over that sidewalk were pink petals, and it was one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen. I wish I knew now where that street was. I've asked Aunt Queen but she doesn't recall.

“I don't know whether those pink petals had fallen from a long flank of crape myrtle trees or from Japanese magnolias. I tend to think it was crape myrtles after a rain. I'll never forget that stretch of sidewalk and that lovely path of flower petals, as though someone had strewn them especially for people to walk on and be transported out of reality and into dreams.

“Even now, when existence seems unendurable I think of that sidewalk, I remember the drowsy light and the feeling of being unhurried, and the beauty of the pink petals. And I'm able to take a deep breath.

“It has nothing to do with my story, except perhaps to state that I had eyes to see such things, and a heart to be sensitive to them. But what is germane is that we went to the house of a very affected and artificial lady, much younger than Aunt Queen, who had a whole room full of toys, and the first dollhouse I'd ever seen. Not knowing that boys weren't supposed to like dollhouses, I was of course curious about it and wanted to play with it more than anything else.

“But the lady wanted to direct things, as I recall, and bombarded me with soft affected questions, in her phony baby voice, mostly pertaining to Goblin, who glared at her the whole while with a sullen and angry face. I didn't like her soft tone when she asked, ‘Does Goblin do bad things?' and ‘Do you feel sometimes that Goblin is doing something that you would like to do but can't?'

“Young as I was, I caught her drift, and I wasn't surprised afterwards when Aunt Queen made a phone call to Pops from the limousine and said, quite oblivious to Goblin and me beside her, ‘It's just an imaginary playmate, Thomas. He'll outgrow Goblin. He's a brilliant child and he has no playmates. So we have Goblin. There's no point to be worried at all.'

“It was very soon after my encounter with the beautiful flower-strewn sidewalk—and the lady psychologist—that Pops drove me to a new school. I hated it passionately, as I had the others, talked to Goblin belligerently and without cease and was sent home before noon.

“The next week Pops made the long drive into New Orleans to take me to a fancier kindergarten in Uptown, but with the same result. Goblin made faces at the children and I hated them. And the teacher's voice grated on me, as she talked to me as if I were an idiot, and Pops was soon there in the pickup truck to take me back to exactly where I wanted to be.

“At this point, I have a vivid yet fragmented memory, very distorted and confused, of actually being incarcerated in some sort of hospital, of being in a small cubicle of a room and of sitting in one of those vast playrooms again, complete with a dollhouse, and of knowing that people were watching me through a mirror because Goblin made signs to me that they were. Goblin hated the place. The people who came in to question me talked to me as if they were great friends of mine, which of course they weren't.

“ ‘Where did you learn all the big words?' was one prize question, and, ‘You talk of being happy to be independent. Do you know what “independent” means?' Of course I knew and I explained it: to be on one's own, to be not in school, to be not in this place; and out of there I soon went, with a sense that I had gotten my liberty through sheer stubbornness and the refusal to be nice. But I had been badly frightened by this experience. And I know that I cried hysterically when I rushed into Sweetheart's arms, and she sobbed and sobbed.

“It may have been the night of my return home—I don't know—but very soon after, Aunt Queen assured me I'd never be left in a place like that ‘hospital' again. And in the days that followed I learnt that it was Aunt Queen's doing, because Patsy loudly criticized her for it in my presence and this confused me because I so badly needed to love Aunt Queen.

“When Aunt Queen shook her head and confirmed that she had done wrong with the hospital, I was very relieved. Aunt Queen saw this and she kissed me and she asked after Goblin, and I told her that he was right at my side.

“Again, I could have sworn that she saw him, and I even saw Goblin puff himself up and sort of preen for her. But she said only that if I loved Goblin, then she would love Goblin too. I burst into tears of happiness, and Goblin was soon in a paroxysm of tears as well.

“My next memory of Aunt Queen is of her sharing my little table with me in this room and teaching me more words to write with my crayon—in fact, a great list of nouns comprising the name of every item in the bedroom—and that she watched patiently as I taught all these words—bed, table, chair, window and so forth—to Goblin.

“ ‘Goblin helps you to remember,' she said gravely to me. ‘I think Goblin is very clever himself. Does Goblin know a word we don't know, do you think? I mean a word you haven't learned so far?'

“It was a startling moment. I was about to say no, when Goblin put his hand on mine and wrote in his jagged way the word ‘Stop' and the word ‘Yield.' And the word ‘School.'

“I laughed, I was so proud of him. But Goblin wasn't finished. He then wrote in short jerky movements the words ‘Ruby River.'

“I heard Aunt Queen gasp. ‘Explain each of those words to me, Quinn,' she said. But though I could explain ‘stop' and ‘yield' as signs we saw on the highway, I couldn't read ‘school' or ‘Ruby River.'

“ ‘Ask Goblin what they mean,' said Aunt Queen.

“I did as she asked, and Goblin explained everything silently by putting the thoughts in my head. Stop meant to stop the car, Yield meant to slow down the car, School meant to go slow when we were near the children, bah! ich! and Ruby River was the name of the water over which the car drove when we went to school or shopping.

“An unforgettable expression of seriousness came over Aunt Queen's face. ‘Ask Goblin how he learned these things,' she said to me. But when I did this, Goblin just crossed his eyes, wagged his head from left to right and began dancing.

“ ‘I don't think he knows how,' I told her, ‘but I think he learned them from watching and listening.'

“She seemed very much pleased with this answer, and I was immensely glad. Her solemn expression had frightened me. ‘Ah, that makes a good deal of sense,' she said. ‘And I'll tell you what. Why don't you have Goblin teach you several new words every day? Maybe he can start now with some more for us.'

“I had to explain to her that Goblin was through for the day. He never liked to do anything very long. He ran out of steam.

“Only now as I tell this do I realize that Goblin was talking coherently in my head. When did that start? I don't know.

“But in the months to come I did what Aunt Queen asked and Goblin taught me pages of common words. Everyone, even Pops and Sweetheart, thought it was a good thing. And the kitchen crowd watched in awe as this process unfolded.

“In jerky letters, I spelled out ‘Rice,' ‘Coca-Cola,' ‘Flour,' ‘Ice,' ‘Rain,' ‘Police,' ‘Sheriff,' ‘City Hall,' ‘Post Office,' ‘Ruby Town Theater,' ‘Grand Hardware,' ‘Grodin's Pharmacy,' ‘Wal-Mart'—defining these words as Goblin defined them in my head, and this defining came not only with the pronunciation of the words, which Goblin gave me, but with pictures. I saw the City Hall. I saw the Post Office. I saw the Ruby Town Theater. And I made an immediate and seminal link between the audible syllables of the word and its meaning, and this was Goblin's doing.

“As I revisit this curious process, I realize what it meant. Goblin, whom I had always treated as grossly inferior to me and devilishly a troublemaker, had learned the phonetic code to written words and was ahead of me in this. And he stayed ahead of me for a long time. The explanation? Just what he had said. He watched and he listened, and given a small amount of indisputable raw material he was able to go quite far.

“This is what I mean when I say he is a fast learner, and I should add he's an unpredictable and uncontrollable learner because that's true.

“But let me make it clear that though the Kitchen Gang told me Goblin was a wonder for teaching me all these words, they still didn't believe in him.

“And one night when I was listening to the adults talk in Aunt Queen's room, I heard the word ‘subconscious,' and again I heard it, and finally the third time I interrupted and asked what it meant.

“Aunt Queen explained that Goblin lived in my subconscious, and that as I grew older he would probably go away. I mustn't worry about it now. But later I wouldn't want so much to have Goblin and the ‘situation' would take care of itself.

“I knew this was wrong, but I loved Aunt Queen too much to contradict her. And besides she was soon going away. Her travels were calling her. Friends of hers were gathered in Madrid at a palace for a special party, and I could only think of this with tears.

“Aunt Queen soon took her leave, but not before hiring a young lady to ‘homeschool' me, which she did, coming up to Blackwood Manor every day.

“This teacher wasn't really a very effective person, and my conversations with Goblin scared her, and she was soon gone.

“The next and the next weren't much good either.

“Goblin hated these teachers as much as I did. They wanted me to color pictures that were boring and to paste strips of paper from magazines onto cardboard. And for the most part they had a dishonest manner of speaking which seems, I think in retrospect, to assume that a child's mind is different from that of adults. I couldn't bear it. I learned quickly how to horrify and frighten them. I did it lustily to break their power. I wanted them gone. With the fury of an only child with a spirit of his own, I wanted them gone.

“No matter how many came, I was soon alone with Goblin again.

“We had the run of the farm as always, and we hung out sometimes with the Shed Men, watching boxing on television, a sport I've always loved—in fact, the only sport that I love to watch and still do watch—and we saw the ghosts in the old cemetery several times.

“As for the ghost of William, Manfred's son, I saw him at least three times by the desk in the living room, and he seemed as oblivious to me as Aunt Camille on the attic stairs.

“Meanwhile Little Ida read lavishly illustrated children's books to me, not minding one bit that Goblin too was listening and looking, all of us crowded on the bed together against the headboard, and I learned to read a little with her, and Goblin could actually read a book to me if I had the patience to listen to him, to tune in to his silent voice inside my head. On rainy days, as I've mentioned, he was really strong. He could read a whole poem to me from an adult book. If we were running in the summer rain, he could stay perfectly solid for an hour.

“Sometime in these early years I realized that I had a treasure in Goblin, that his knack for understanding and spelling words was superior to mine, and I liked it, and I also trusted his opinion of the teachers, of course. Goblin was learning faster than I was. And then the inevitable happened.

“I must have been nine years old. Goblin, taking my left hand, began to write more sophisticated messages than I could have ever written. In the kitchen, where I sat at the big white-enameled table now with the adults, Goblin scrawled out in crayon on paper something like ‘Quinn and I want to go riding in Pops' truck. We'd like to go to the cock fights again. We like to see the roosters go at it. We want to place bets.'

Other books

La Ciudad de la Alegría by Dominique Lapierre
London Triptych by Jonathan Kemp
Sins of the Father by Thomas, Robert J.
The Christmas Rescue by Laura Scott
Storm Born by Amy Braun
Paint It Black by Janet Fitch