Angela and Vonda Ch. 03

Angela was getting confused. She didn't remember any psychological evaluation. She didn't like Vonda's use of the word fettered. She remembered having taken some intelligence tests, and a series of physicals before her engagement, but she never had a psychological. "I don't know what you're talking about. I never had any psychological evaluations, and I don't recall talking about doing any particular things."

Her sister-in-law was enjoying the discourse" "Yes you did, and quite honestly Angela dear, the results were disturbing. I warned Brandon about getting involved considering your state of mind. I told him there should be a period of observation. He said he didn't care. He said that if you're emotional state went awry, that we would just have you committed. He wanted to marry you and care for you. Brandon really loves you."

This was stunning news to Angela. "I'm not sick. My mind is fine. You're just trying to scare me. This is just some sick joke you're pulling. Hell, I knew you didn't approve of me."

Vonda gave Angela a perverse smile. "Angela darling, you're a sick little girl, and we're going to take care of you. That's why we have Marge, Dorothy, and Mary all on staff. Each one of them is trained in working with the mentally unstable."

Angela shouted. "You're lying! You're lying! You're a nasty liar!" She angrily shook her fists at her sister-in-law.

It was then that Mary appeared from upstairs.

Angela saw Mary, and believed she was the one person around here she could still trust. "Mary do you know what these people are talking about? Are you in on this?"

Mary answered. "I was hired to help take care of you. The doctors who knew me and had worked with me told me that they had a patient whose health was frail. They said there was a woman who could behave quite normally, but then, sometimes for no reason, she would collapse. I was told she had certain hobbies." She hesitated. She didn't want to open that door. "I was told to be on hand to help you, and be available if the need arose. That's all I can say Miss Angela."

Everything she said was true, but everything she said hid ten other things she could have said. There were things she should have said that would have helped Angela, but if she said them she might lose her position in the house.

Angela was really upset. Something horrible was happening and she wasn't in a position to say exactly what it was. "Mary, if you've been watching me, then you must know there's nothing wrong with me." Perplexed she added. "Tell me what are these hobbies everyone keeps talking about? "

"Miss Angela we have a whole room set up where you can tie yourself up, or chain yourself up. We even put in a small metal cage where you can incarcerate yourself if you want to. Why, Miss Vonda even bought a wagon so we can pull you around the house and in the yard when you want to stay in a cage. Miss Vonda bought out the store when she discovered you liked to play with Barbies. We've got every Barbie made in the last five years, and we have matching outfits that you can wear." There was more she should have said. She should have said she knew there wasn't anything wrong with her mistress. She should have told the McCardles Miss Vonda was the crazy one. She didn't say any of those things.

Angela had heard enough. She had to escape. She had to get out before she really did go nuts. She screamed and ran from the room. "You're not going to do this to me! Vonda! I won't let you!"

Mrs. McCardle spoke to no one in particular. "I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes.

Vonda looked at the older woman with sad, but knowing, eyes.

The old woman added. "You and Brandon have a grave responsibility here. I don't envy you."

Vonda listened with phony respect. She answered Mrs. McCardle with equally false sincerity. "Thank you Mrs. McCardle. You see how it is. When you go out around the town please keep it a secret." She knew Mrs. McCardle was the biggest gossip in six states. Everything she thought she saw and heard would be part of the public domain by lunch tomorrow. Mrs. McCardle's wagging tongue would seal Angela's fate even if she did escape.

Angela ran upstairs as fast as her unstable feet could carry her. The tight white shoes with their slippery leather heels were a serious handicap. She reached what had been her and Brandon's bedroom, the one they'd been sleeping in, and tried to open the door. It was locked. She pulled and tugged at the doorknob. It wouldn't budge! She had to escape.

She ran upstairs to the room she had been in earlier. On the way she fell awkwardly on the steps. She felt the silly tap pants tear at the crotch. When she tried the fourth floor door it opened. She went in and rushed for the closet. She'd looked there before, but she'd look again. There had to be something she could wear! There had to be some keys! She had to find her purse! Where had she left her car keys? Where were her identity papers, her driver's license, and her passport? Nothing was there! Everything had disappeared! Someone, and she knew who, had literally stripped her of her identity!

Angela ran back to the door. She could simply run. She was a healthy person. She would run away. The town was distant. With luck she'd get there and get help. She threw off the ridiculous shoes and headed toward the door. She'd get out of the room back to hall, and out of the house.

When she reached the bedroom door she found it was closed. She went to turn the doorknob. There wasn't any doorknob, only the metal-plate for the components, a keyhole for a key, and a cap covering the place where the doorknob should be. She tried to wedge her fingernails between the edge of the door and the frame. Perhaps she could pull the door open. No luck! She pushed against the door. Maybe it opened outward. She could tell right away that the door was locked. Wait she thought! There was a window toward the back of the room. She ran toward the window, retrieving her shoes on the way. She'd pull open the drapes, open the window and climb out that way. If the window was locked shut then she would break it with a shoe. She reached the window! She opened the drapes. The window was locked shut, but it didn't matter. Just on the other side of her last escape route she saw they'd installed decorative latticework. It was clearly wrought iron, and though it wasn't a set of iron bars, it served exactly the same purpose.

Angela panicked. She ran back to the door! She tried to force it open with her fingers again It wouldn't budge! She tried to pull out the hinge bolts. No luck! She leaned down and tried lifting the massive door, as though she could will up and out. She screamed and started beating on the door with her hands. She clawed at the inside wood with her fingernails. She had to get out! She had to escape! She was crying. She knew it now. She was trapped! She was a prisoner in her own house, a prisoner in this tiny room. Her room, this room, it had become her cage. Slowly she slid to the floor gasping and crying. She held her hands tightly in front her chest. She cried. "No! No! No! Oh somebody. Somebody please. I'm afraid. Let me out. Let me out"