Legacy Of Terror

has borne me through all these years. And I have been proved right. I found the knife, and I have her spirit in me now.”
    Elaine saw that she could not blame only Jerry and Bess for what had happened to the little boy who grew up to be this madman. They shared a particle of guilt. But Amelia Matherly must also be blamed, both for her genetic infirmities and, more than that, for the way she raised her children and for the memories of blood that she left them. And, too, Lee Matherly and Jacob must shoulder some blame. They had seen Dennis crumbling under the memory of his mother's mad deeds, and they had lavished affection on him, had cured him with love and concern and time. Meanwhile, because his own sick reaction was not as overt as his brother's, Gordon had been ignored. His pain and doubt and confusion had been allowed to fester until it had given rise to unwholesome fantasies. The guilt was everywhere, the webs densely crisscrossed.
    “But why did you try to kill your grandfather?”
    “He frightened my mother. Fleeing from him, she tripped on the stairs and fell and died. Otherwise, she would be alive today.”
    There was nothing that she could say in the face of such insane reasoning. He would not listen. And, if he did listen, he would never be able to conceive of a world in which his grandfather was faultless, a victim of circumstance. Gordon's touch with reality had been damaged many years ago and had been smashed beyond repair from the moment he had found that knife where his mother, for some incomprehensible reason, had secreted it.
    “Why Celia?” she asked. She was certain the explanation would be as unsound as all the others, but she had to know anyway. And she had to stall as long as she could.
    “She was a woman,” Gordon said.
    She remembered him having used that excuse before, as if it was enough, of itself, to explain anything.
    She said, “What does that matter?”
    “She was a pretty woman,” Gordon said. “My mother disliked other pretty women. She was beautiful, and she was somewhat vain. I suppose you would say 'vain.' I choose to think that she was afraid some other woman, some prettier woman might come into our life and take us away from her.” He sighed, as if remembering his mother's beauty. “Celia was lovely and was going to live here. That was no good. My father has never remarried, though he has known women, many women, outside the house. He knew better than to bring a pretty woman here; he knew she would not like him being married again and keeping a wife in this house. Dennis should have known better than to invite Celia here.”
    He began to sway again, and tears returned to eyes that had grown dry. He looked at Elaine and said, “And then you. You want to take all of them away from her, make them forget how lovely she was. You're just like Celia.”
    Be calm, she told herself. You don't have a chance if you lose your calm. Be quiet, think. Think!
    Jerry grasped his head again and bent forward on the sofa. He moaned more pitiably, but just as phonily, than before, as if he wanted to make it clear to her that he would be of no help when Gordon decided to make his move against her.
    But she already knew that. She no longer hated him for his cowardly behavior. A lifetime of superstition had not prepared him to play the hero in this room.
    Her only hope was to get Gordon's mind off her for a moment. She said, “If Amelia Matherly was so concerned about losing her family to another woman, why did she kill her own children?” She addressed this to no one in particular, in hopes that the indirect nature of her attitude might defuse the question of some of its power.
    But Gordon did not seem to think it had any power to being with. He said, evenly, “The twins were little girls, weren't they? They would have become women, wouldn't they?”
    Elaine shuddered miserably and sank deeper into her chair, actually hoping it might completely conceal her. Such cold exposition of such a hateful notion had resurrected the worst of her fears. The room was freezing, even in the middle of June. Surely, it was snowing outside and ice was hanging from the eaves.
    She said, not without some effort, “And you honestly believe that was a good enough reason for her to kill them? Was plain jealousy sufficient- No, not plain jealousy but mad jealousy, unreasoning jealousy that-”
    “She was my mother. She has returned to me and has possessed me and will remain with me. I don't care. I don't care what her reasons