Page 106
Story: All That Glitters (Landry 3)
Ever since my confrontation with Bruce in the studio, I was hesitant about returning and starting a painting. Keeping my talent a secret stifled the creative impulse, but I didn't want to hover around Mrs. Ferrier all day and give her the impression I didn't trust her with Pearl. So I would spend hours sitting in the studio, staring at an empty canvas, waiting for the inspiration that appeared to be clouded by my darker thoughts.
One morning after breakfast, just before I was preparing to go into the studio, the doorbell rang and Aubrey came to tell me I had a gentleman visitor.
"A Monsieur Turnbull," he said, handing me the man's card. For a few seconds the name didn't register.
Then I looked at the card and saw it read "Louis Turnbull."
"Louis," I said aloud, a wave of ecstatic joy coming over me. It was Louis, Mrs. Clairborne's grandson, the blind young man I had met and become friends with at the Greenwood School for girls, the private school in Baton Rouge to which Daphne had sent Gisselle and me.
The school's chief benefactor was a widow, Mrs. Clairborne, who lived in a mansion on the school grounds with her grandson Louis. Louis, a man in his twenties, had become blind when he was still a young boy after he had suffered the traumatic experience of seeing his father kill his mother, smother her to death with a pillow. His blindness lingered and handicapped him even after dozens and dozens of sessions with a psychiatrist.
However, he was a talented pianist and composer who put all of his feelings into his music. I met him accidentally when I had attended a tea at the mansion with the other new students from our dormitory. Drawn by the sound of his music, I wandered into the study, and Louis and I became close friends. Louis claimed my friendship helped him start to regain his sight. He came to my rescue when I was nearly expelled from Greenwood because of something Gisselle had done. His testimony provided an alibi for me and ended the incident.
Louis had gone to Europe to get further treatment for his condition and study at the musical conservatory. We had lost contact, and now, seemingly out of the blue, here he was on my doorstep.
"Show him in," I told Aubrey, and waited anxiously for our meeting when suddenly it occurred to me: I couldn't greet him as Ruby. I was Gisselle! It stopped me cold in my tracks.
Aubrey brought him to the study. Louis had grown a bit heavier since I had last seen him, but his face had matured, his cheeks and chin somewhat leaner. He wore his dark brown hair longer and swept back on the sides. He was still quite a handsome man with a strong, sensuous mouth and a perfectly straight Roman nose. The only real change was, he wore a pair of glasses with the thickest lenses I'd ever seen.
"Thank you for seeing me, Madame Andreas," he said. I approached him and gave him my hand in greeting. "I don't know if you remember me or not. I was very friendly with your sister, Ruby," he said, and I realized he had heard the news and thought I was Gisselle.
"Yes, I know. Please, have a seat, Mr. Turnbull."
"Just call me Louis," he said, and went to the settee across from my chair. I sat and gazed at him for a moment, wondering if I could just blurt out the truth. I felt my stomach churn with frustration. It was as if hundreds of soap bubbles were popping inside.
"I have just returned from Europe," he explained, "where I studied music and performed."
"Performed?"
"Yes, in some of the finest concert halls," he said. "As soon as I arrived in New Orleans, I made some inquiries and was told the dreadful story about your sister. The fact is, I'm going to perform here in New Orleans this coming Saturday at the Theater of the Performing Arts in Louis Armstrong Park on St. Ann Street. I had been hoping your sister would be in the audience." He paused.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I know how much she would have wanted to be there."
"Do you?" He studied me a moment and then added, "I brought along a couple of tickets for you and Monsieur Andreas, should you wish to attend." He took them out and laid them on the table.
"Thank you."
"Now," he said, his face turning glum, "please be so kind as to tell me about your sister. What dreadful thing has happened?"
"She was infected with a virus that causes a severe form of encephalitis," I said. "She is in a hospital in a coma, and I'm afraid the outlook is bleak."
He nodded. I had confirmed what he knew and feared.
"I see your eyesight has been completely restored. My sister told me about you," I added quickly.
"My vision is now as good as it would have been had I suffered no problems, but as you can tell from these glasses, I wasn't born to have the best eyesight anyway. As long as
I can see the pages and write my notes, I'm fine," he added, and smiled. "That's what I'm doing here Saturday night, you know, playing original compositions. I think you might be very interested in one. I wrote it for your sister. It's Ruby's Symphony."
"Yes," I said. A lump came to choke my throat and a tiny tear trickled from my right eye and then one from my left. I wondered if his eyes permitted him to see something as small. He fixed his gaze on me for a moment without speaking.
"Pardon, madame, I mean no disrespect, but Monsieur Andreas," he said, "was he not your sister's boyfriend?"
"Once," I said softly.
"I knew she was quite in love with him. You see, I was in love with her and she made sure to let me know her heart already belonged to another and nothing I could do or say would ever change that. Such a strong love is rare, I thought, but I understand she married someone else?"
"Yes." My eyes skipped guiltily away. Like a raging river against a dam, my story longed to gush forward.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106 (Reading here)
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132
- Page 133
- Page 134
- Page 135
- Page 136
- Page 137
- Page 138
- Page 139
- Page 140
- Page 141
- Page 142
- Page 143
- Page 144
- Page 145
- Page 146
- Page 147
- Page 148
- Page 149
- Page 150
- Page 151
- Page 152