"PHOENIX" by Sarah Ryniker

PAGE LAST UPDATED ON 22/03/2002

Phoenix Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Epilogue

CHAPTER NINE

I wasn't quite sure I was hearing Damian correctly and yet, I knew that I had. Uncle Gerald was my grandfather? But how could that be? I looked over to the man who had just been declared as my grandfather, wanting answers and wanting them badly.
    But Damian kept going instead of letting Uncle Gerald say a word. "When your mother and I were having an affair, she confided in me that you weren't her daughter, but the daughter of her husband's uncle. She said that your real mother was so much of a whore that she even had sex with her cousin and got pregnant." I felt sick to my stomach. I knew that he was talking about Rachael. But Ella had told me such good things about her; how could she be the promiscuous person they were claiming her to be?
    Unfortunately, the man who I knew now as my grandfather concluded that what he said was true. "It's why I disowned the little hussy, and why I didn't want her spawn of evil in my God damned house. But Ella insisted and now here you are. You can stay here but don't you dare bring your men into this house!" he screamed, making me jump.
    Ella and Mama came into the room then. Mama looked as if she was about to pass out at the sight of Damian, and Ella was thoroughly confused. Though, it didn't take much to confuse the woman I now knew was my step-grandmother, I could understand.
    "What in God's name is going in here?" Ella asked my grandfather.
    "She knows, Ella," Mama whispered. "They told her about Rachael. I heard it all!" She shook her head from side to side; the tears sliding down her cheeks. "Why did you have to tell her?" she screamed. "She was my daughter! Mine!" She left the room then, running from everyone. Running from the truth, I knew. She wasn't my real mother; she wasn't even blood-related. Neither was Ella, I thought sadly. And she was such a good woman; how could I not be sad over the thought of not truly being related to her?
    Ella looked at Damian for a split second, her face confused about who he was, but she ignored him. Never had I seen such fire in her eyes when she looked at her husband, though. She looked as if she wanted to rip his head from his shoulders.
    "How could you tell her?" she bit out quietly, yet viciously. "You promised that you wouldn't. Rachael gave birth to her, but Karen raised her. How can you take so many years away from both of them? You're nothing but a cold, heartless brute!"
    "Ah, shut up! It was the boy here that the little slut brought in that told her. I just told her what was in her blood. Warning her to stay away from men."
    Ella looked highly sceptical about his last sentence. She shot another quick glance at Damian and back to my grandfather. "Why did you have to tell her that what he said was true? Why couldn't you say otherwise, Gerald? There was no reason for it. You're just a mean and nasty man who doesn't care about what others feel!" With that, Ella left the room.
    My grandfather looked at me as if wanting to say something. Then deciding against it, he shook his head and left the room, muttering about the house and how crazy the people who lived in it were.
    "You'd better go find somewhere to sleep," I told Damian without looking at him. I made my way to the adjoining door that led to my bedroom. "The lights have come back on, so finding a guestroom can't be too difficult," I said as I entered my bedroom and shut the door quietly behind me. I was confused and afraid of what tomorrow would bring. Sleep was so much of a blessing that night as I fell to my pillow into a dreamless sleep.

When I woke the next morning, it was late and nearly early afternoon. The night before, I had drained myself emotionally and I had not wanted to wake up. I knew that as confused as I was before, there was only more to come. There were so many new questions to be answered! And finding out about Rachael was even more important now, knowing that she was my birth mother.
    I got up and took a slow shower, taking as much time to wash my hair and body as possible. I had no immediate urge to see anyone in the family today. I was hoping that by the time I went down there, Ella and Mama would be up and gone. I didn't want to confront them about the night before. It was entirely too stressful.
    Fortunately, my prayers were answered. Nobody was home. Or at least I thought. While I sat in the dining room, eating, Damian came in. I had forgotten all about him being there. Funny, I thought, how could I forget when he was the one who told me the truth about myself? I didn't understand why he knew for so long and I hadn't known anything about it. Was I truly as much of an idiot as my grandfather had said?
    Damian didn't say a word to me as he sat down and waited for his food. He barely looked at me. After all, there wasn't just what he told me that made us uncomfortable. Before my grandfather had burst through the door, something had been happening. Damian's feelings for me confused me, but even more so, my feelings for him had me all mixed up.
    When I finished eating, I got up and began to leave the dining room. But just as I went to pass by Damian, he grabbed my wrist. "You don't have to ignore me, you know," he said.
    "I'm not ignoring you," I told him, trying to pull my wrist out of his grip. "I just don't want to talk about last night. I want to forget any of it ever happened, and go on with my life."
    "Forget all of it?" He seemed almost hurt by the fact that I wanted to disregard what had happened between us. "Forget even what happened with me before-"
    "Yes! I want to forget that the most!" I cried and finally pulled away, leaving the kitchen in a hurry. Remembering what had happened between us was the worst memory ever. He'd had Mama and Celeste. I couldn't let him have me, too! Was he so spoiled, self-centred and cruel that he had to play with the hearts of every female in my family? I thought bitterly. Well, I'd be damned if I let him play with mine. I couldn't let it happen.
    Though I didn't want to confront anyone in the house about it, I did want to continue my search of Rachael. Especially now that I knew she was my mother, I felt that she needed me to do it. I picked up the phone in my sitting room and dialled the number scrawled across the slip of paper. I waited until someone answered. It seemed like an eternity before I actually heard a voice on the other line. When I heard a man's voice say the right greeting, I quickly asked for Melanie Daniels.
    When I heard the melodic voice saying the friendliest hello I'd ever heard; anticipation had my heart pounding. I almost didn't answer back. Finally, I choked out "Hello."
    "May I ask who is calling? I was just on my way out the door when you called! Not that I mind phone calls; I don't get them often, but I'm sure you don't feel like hearing about that!" Melanie Daniels had to be the most talkative, friendly person I'd ever met! Her voice never seemed to lose its sweetness.
    "This is Phoenix Parish. I'm-" That's when it hit me. I was Rachael's daughter. Not Karen's! I was confused, but finally managed to let the words roll off of my tongue. "I'm Rachael's daughter."
    The pause on the other line nearly convinced me that she had hung up. Then I heard the low whistle on the other side of the phone line and then the sigh. "Her daughter? Phoenix? How old are you?" she quizzed me quickly.
    "I'm fifteen; I'll be sixteen in October," I answered. "I've never known my mother because I was raised by my father, Michael Parish, and his wife Karen. I just found out that Rachael is my mother, and I just want to know more about her. A friend of mine told me to go to you." I needed to talk to this woman; I realised. I needed someone who had known Rachael and could give me the answers I needed. I needed to know more about my true mother.
    "That sounds about right." Though her voice held its gentle melody, it wasn't nearly as happy and hyper as it had been before she had heard who I was. I didn't know what her reaction was. "Well, I was going to go out to lunch, but I think I'll be cancelling my plans. Would you like to come over? I think if you're just now finding out about it all, that it's time for you to know more about the woman who carried you and birthed you." She was offering to tell me the things I needed to know! I wanted to cry out with joy.
    "Oh, I'd love to come over! I'll take a cab right away!" I cried into the phone.
    "You have my address?" she asked. For some reason I told her no. I didn't want her to feel weird because I had it. She quickly told me, and within an hour I was walking up the front porch stairs and into her home.
    Her home was as beautiful as my grandfather's was and just as large. It was oddly painted lavender. There was a giant garden surrounding the entire house. There were giant floor-to-ceiling stained-glass windows on either side of the entryway door. It absolutely took my breath away.
    When the door was opened, I was rushed down the hall by the butler, and into the back garden. Melanie Daniels sat in a lawn chair, one leg crossed over the other. She wore a purple sundress that went to about mid-thigh. She certainly didn't look like any other rich woman I'd seen. She wore no shoes on her feet, her dirty blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her dress wasn't the classy, uptight dress that I'd seen the other women I'd met wear. And certainly the other women wouldn't flaunt their bosom as Melanie did. Her rather large bosom was pressing against the fabric of her dress so tightly, I was sure that were she to move it would rip. She was not a small woman in the least bit, but rather curvaceous and almost could be considered chunky.
    When she turned to look at me, she first seemed a little shocked by my being there. Then she smiled the most beautiful I'd ever seen on anyone. She motioned for me to sit in the chair beside her. I did, but neither of us spoke for a while. She poured both of us some lemonade that was sitting on the table between us. She gave me mine and I drank slowly, but I wasn't thirsty. I was nervous. I had waited so long to unwrap the mystery of my father's cousin, my real mother. Now here I was. Perhaps about to unravel all of the past.
    Finally, Melanie spoke. "You look just like her. I have no doubt about your claim to be Rachael's daughter. You're just as pretty."
    I felt myself blush. "Thank you," I said softly. "I didn't know until last night that she was my mother. Before, I had thought she was just my cousin," I admitted. I was hoping to open the conversation that would lead to revelations.
    She nodded. "Of course they would want to keep it secret. Especially Karen. Rachael would have more than willingly told them all the truth, but Gerald Parish wouldn't have it. He locked her up in her room until you were born. She was allowed to name you, but was told you were dead not long after you were taken from her."
    "So my mother thought I was dead?" I asked incredulously. How could they be so cruel to tell her that I was dead?
    "What exactly were you told about both your mother, your real mother and your father?" She seemed curious to know; that way she couldn't slip and tell me something she wasn't supposed to. Could I be wrong? Could she just be adding to more lies? Somehow I doubted it.
    "I was told that my mother was rather promiscuous. So much that she had sex with her own cousin, my father, and got pregnant," I answered.
    Melanie shook her head from side to side, and looked to the ground. "They would all make it seem like her fault. But let me tell you. Rachael was the least promiscuous female in that family. Things had happened to her before she even got pregnant with you. She lived a tough life in spite of being so rich. I tried to help her as much as possible. She told me all of it after you'd been taken from her."
    "What is all of it?" I finally asked. I didn't want to keep playing cat and mouse. I didn't want to chase the answers any longer. I was here now and I wanted to know.
    She was quiet for a long time, as if contemplating whether she should tell me or not. I sat waiting, wanting to squirm in my chair, but not doing so. Finally, the words spilled from her mouth, making me physically sick. "Michael Parish raped your mother."

Phoenix Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Epilogue

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