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Nutcracker, Jory," said Bart as he headed fast for the

stairs. "You were the ugly nutcracker that turned into

the handsome prince. You dominated every male role

--and won the prettiest ballerina every time. In

Cinderella, in Romeo and Juliet

. In The Sleeping

Beauty, Giselle, Swan Lake--every time but the last

time. And it's the last time that counts, isn't it?" How cruel! How very cruel! I watched Jory wince, and for once he allowed his pain to show,

making my heart ache for him.

"Merry Christmas," Bart called as he

disappeared up the stairs. "We'll never again celebrate

this holiday, or any other in this house as long as I run

it. Joel was right. He warned me not to try and

conform and be like others. He said I shouldn't try to

make people like or respect me. From now on, I'll be

like Malcolm. I'll gain respect by inflicting my will on

others, with fists of iron, and with ruthless

determination. All who have alienated me tonight will

feel my might."

I turned to Chris when he was out of sight. "He

sounds crazy!"

"No, darling, he's not crazy--he's just Bart,

young and vulnerable again and very, very hurt. He

used to break his bones when he was a child to punish

himself because he failed socially and in school. Now

he's going to break the lives of others. Isn't it a pity,

Cathy, that nothing works out for him?"

I stood at the newel post looking upward to

where an old man hid in the shadows, seeming to

shake from his silent laughter.