Death is inevitable and the world is full of murder, Tom says, tenderly brushing a lock of hair from my eyes.
If Tom talks, he really only wants to talk about two things: my Beauty and how Mother is evil. A terrible person, Belle. A vile bitch queen. It surprises me that Tom Cruise feels this way about Mother when she looks so much like all the girls he kisses in his movies. But he’s so serious-sounding that I believe him. When Tom talks about Mother, his eyes go red. His fang shines in the light more. There’s a heavenly glow on his face. He’s so beautiful. The most beautiful being I have ever seen.
Mother’s Beauty is a trick, Tom whispered last night. Not like yours, Belle. Right now, he says, I’m just a little bud in the grass. Not even a bud yet, a seedling. Deep in the dark earth, among the worms and spiders. That’s where Mother’s keeping me. But Tom says he sees me down there in the dirt. Sees the green shoots that will soon rise up. The red petals that will unfurl. A rose I will be someday, little seedling. Just like the ones in Stacey’s mother’s garden. Just wait. Wait and see. And what will Mother be? Rotted. Fallen petals. Dead earth.
* * *
Now Mother’s still out but she’ll be home soon. Grand-Maman is asleep in her chair in the living room. Tom’s really late. Maybe he’s busy filming a new movie or something. But didn’t he say just yesterday to meet him here tonight?
But Mother might come back early, I warned him.
Fuck Mother, Tom said. Did Tom Cruise really say that? He put his cold, sticking hands on my shoulders, and he said, Belle, your mother is a real problem.
I nodded like I knew. Yes. But I really didn’t know. It’s just that this is her room, I said. And she told me not to go in. So she gets mad when I’m here. In her shoes. And I wanted to tell him if he came into my mirror in my bedroom, we wouldn’t have to deal with these issues. We wouldn’t—
I don’t mean that, Belle.
What do you mean, then? What’s the problem with Mother?
And Tom looked at me and smiled in the dark. His fang shone, sharp and white. Surely I knew what the problem was. But I didn’t really.
She’s taking your Beauty away, he said.
She is?
Oh yes, definitely. And I, for one, won’t stand for it. I told you. I hate stealing.
I nodded. I hated stealing too. I thought of Mother’s many robes from Egypt. How sometimes she’d line her eyes like Elizabeth Taylor in Cleopatra. Wear a blue beetle on her wrist, a scarab. She didn’t steal any of it. Father bought it all for her. From Egypt, Mother would say of the jewels and robes. So why was it that when I watched the beetle wink against her light skin, I sometimes thought liar, I sometimes thought thief? Because she was Noelle Nour with creditors only. I’m Mirabelle Nour, no matter what I wear, no matter where I go. Can’t take it off like Mother’s wrist beetle. Can’t even take it off like Father’s eye. But was Mother really stealing? Wasn’t she born like that and wasn’t I born like this? And wasn’t I the actual thief, coming into her room where she told me again and again not to go? Little thief. Little bitch, isn’t that what Mother calls me under her breath each time she catches me? She says it after I’ve left, but I hear her through the wall.
Tom—
Seth.
I don’t know for sure if she’s stealing. Maybe she’s just beautiful. I pictured Mother when she took me apple picking last fall. Her face beaming up at me through the branches of a tree fuzzy with caterpillars. I handed Mother the very first apple I picked. The red of the apple was almost the same red as Mother’s Chanel lipstick, so it matched. I told her so and she laughed and said, Oh god, I’ve created a monster, haven’t I?
It’s a lie, he said, stroking my hair. I see through her. I see the truth. And I hate lies. He closed his eyes. So much. It’s true that Tom Cruise hates lies. He has a lot of honor. I saw that firsthand in Legend. In Top Gun, too.
Please take me away with you, Tom Cruise, I begged.
He opened his eyes, which were red now. A flash of anger. I thought surely he would correct me again: Seth, remember? But he just smiled to himself, amused. He sighed. Shook his head of waving dark hair.
I’d love to take you away, Belle. Definitely, I would. You know I’d do anything to keep you close. It’s just your mother would be very, very angry at me… He put a hand to his chest just like Tom Cruise would. So suddenly sincere.
I don’t care, I whispered. I’ll do anything.
Tom’s smile flashed white. Anything? He took my face in his hands. His hands were so cold, it was like being plunged in icy water. I gasped. Well. There is one thing.