Free Whitefern by V.C. Andrews Page A

enjoy sex.”
    I had no idea why she thought I would be makinglove to many men. Maybe she thought I would be like Vera, who Arden once told me could go through a college football team in a week. Making love to so many different men in a short time was terrifying to me. It actually made me sick to my stomach. He thought that was funny.
    Sometimes I wondered if Arden had really seen what had happened to me in the woods. How could he have seen that and not expected me to have negative feelings when he talked like that about sex? But then why would he confess to his failure to help me and cry about how guilty and small that made him feel?
    One night, I’d had a terrifying thought that answered that question. What if he wasn’t only a witness? He had never turned in any of the boys’ names to the police, and he never even mentioned them now. Was he worried they would turn on him? Thinking of that had made me throw up.
    I couldn’t depend on my memory to deliver the truth about anything on that horrible afternoon. Faces and voices were forever blurred, so I couldn’t identify any of them, either. Even the rocking chair didn’t bring it all back, but I wasn’t going to complain.
    When he was satisfied now, he rolled over and turned his back on me. Then I heard him say, “There. Baby, Sylvia’s baby,” and he laughed.
    I lay there, still naked, my body smarting from the way he had rubbed and pressed on me. My legs were aching, the insides of my thighs feeling burned.
    â€œMaybe,” I said angrily, “if there was more romance in our lovemaking, it would work, and I wouldget pregnant. If you would think of me as more than just a vessel in which to empty yourself, the magic of two people making a child would happen as it is supposed to happen. You once loved me that way, didn’t you? Or was that a lie? Or are you going to tell me it has withered like a grape on the vine?”
    He didn’t answer for so long that I thought he had fallen asleep instantly, but suddenly, he turned on me. “You’re absolutely right. Romance comes from love, and love comes from respect and obedience. Your father taught me that,” he added. “He should have taught it to you better.”
    I didn’t doubt it. How my mother loved my father despite his meanness and selfishness amazed me. When I asked her about it once, she smiled, stroked my hair, and said, “Love is forgiveness, Audrina. That’s all it really is, constantly forgiving someone for his weaknesses and hoping that it will bring about some good changes.”
    Is that what she would tell me now? I turned my back to Arden and tried to think of good things about him, enough so I could find forgiveness. However, before I fell asleep, I thought I wouldn’t even dream of becoming pregnant as a result of this lovemaking. There was no baby on his or her way tonight. Sylvia could rock in that chair until daylight. There would be no magic.
    No, as much as I wanted to believe it, Papa wasn’t whispering any secrets in Sylvia’s ear. What she was hearing were my thoughts. When she was rocking in that chair, she was hearing and seeing my dreams. Butwhat would come of it? These dreams were like soap bubbles, capturing the rainbow light for seconds and then popping and dropping like tears to the hard, cold reality beneath them.
    I think I passed out rather than falling asleep. For the first time in a long time, Arden was up before me, this time so quiet as not to wake me. That was unusual for him. Normally, because he was the one going to work and I was the one staying home, my having a good night’s rest wasn’t as important. I could always take a nap later, but he couldn’t. When I looked at the clock, I was shocked. I couldn’t recall when I had slept this late. My exhaustion from his rough lovemaking must be the reason, I thought, and I got up, wondering if Sylvia had gone down for breakfast. I had