Storms 01 - Family Storms

watch television in the entertainment center? We have a screen as big as some small movie-theater screens. When was the last time you went to a movie?”
    I thought about it and realized that it had been soon after Daddy had left us. Mama had taken me to a movie to cheer up both of us. That was years ago, because we never spent money on a movie after that, and my school friends had stopped asking me to go to movies with them.
    “Years ago,” I replied.
    “Years?” She got behind my wheelchair. “Years, and you live in the movie capital of the world? We’ll do something about that, although once you see a movie here, you might not care about going to a theater.”
    As she wheeled me along, she described some of their theater parties. She said that her husband knew an important movie executive at one of the studios, and he brought them first-run films to watch. The elaborate parties she described and the things they had done were as foreign to me as rituals in Africa or the Far East.
    When we turned into the entertainment center, she stopped my wheelchair abruptly. Kiera was there with one of the girls I had seen at the pool, but what they were watching on the screen was more surprising. A naked man and woman were embracing as they lay on a beach. Mrs. March adjusted the lights so the room was blazing.
    “What the hell!” Kiera cried, and turned around. She and her girlfriend were snacking on popcorn. They sat ontwo large red leather seats with a wide arm between them on which they had the bowl of delicious-smelling popcorn.
    “What are you watching? Why didn’t you tell me Deidre was coming here tonight?”
    “Daddy said we could,” Kiera said. “And for your information, this picture is going to be nominated for an Academy Award. You’re ruining it for us. Please turn off the lights.”
    “Hi, Mrs. March,” Deidre said. She had auburn hair, smartly shaped, and was one of the prettiest girls I had seen.
    “You can leave her here to watch if you want, Mother. I’m sure she’s seen worse on the street.”
    Mrs. March seemed at a loss for words. She didn’t move me or herself. The couple on the screen got up laughing and charged into the ocean, splashing each other.
    “Deidre’s mother would not like her watching this, I’m sure,” she finally said.
    “Are you kidding? She was jealous that she was getting to see it. Right, Deidre?”
    “She was, Mrs. March.”
    Without further comment, Mrs. March turned me away and started out.
    “Turn down the lights again, Mother!” Kiera screamed.
    Mrs. March didn’t. She continued to push me out and down the hallway.
    “Thanks, Mother!” Kiera shouted after us.
    “I’ll take you up to your room. You can watch television in your own suite,” Mrs. March said. I didn’t look back at her, but from the way her voice trembled, I knew she was shaken.
    As we went into the elevator, I realized that Kiera finally had told at least one of her friends about me, and surely once one found out, others would, as well. I wondered how she explained my presence in their home. Surely by now, her friends knew about the accident she had caused. One or two of them might have been with her in the car and probably high on drugs as well. They and their parents would have good reason not to let other people know what had happened.
    After she had settled me in my suite, Mrs. March said that before going to bed herself, she would stop by again to be sure I was fine. She looked anxious to leave and hurried out, to speak with her husband I was sure. When she returned hours later, she didn’t look much calmer. In fact, she looked as flushed as someone who had been in a nasty argument. I let her help me undress and get ready for bed, more out of sympathy for her than because of any need of my own. It seemed to help settle her down. After I was in bed, she tucked the blanket in around me, but she didn’t leave. She pulled up a chair beside the bed and smiled.
    “Did I tell you that when Alena was younger, she would often describe dreams she had? She loved telling stories, and to her, the dreams she had were often her best. Even Donald, as busy as he seemed, enjoyed having her go on and on. Only Kiera would complain that Alena didn’t leave much time to talk or hear about anything else. Did I tell you about all that?”
    “No,” I said. What made her think she had told me? We didn’t speak that much about Alena.
    “Anyway, to help her get to sleep the next night, I would sit