A New York Haunting: Pt. 07

"As you grow more and more relaxed, so too do your eyelids... heavier and heavier they are becoming. It's so easeful to let them lower... so comforting to go deeper and deeper into a state of relaxation. As you relax yet further, you might even wish to close your eyes to ease the weight."

Ondine's eyelids fluttered and sagged ponderously. Under her shirtwaist, her bosom slowly rose and fell with deep breaths. The twisting motion of her fingers on the apron tie slowed.

Flickering rectangles of green light from the crystal continued to caress the exposed portion of her eyes. "Now close your eyes and relax yet further."

Her lush lashes sank fully to her cheeks.

"You will feel my touch on your shoulder and that is your cue to drift deeper and deeper into a trance." Anders' fingers lightly tapped her shoulder.

Her lips parted and a subtle rosy tint suffused her face and neck.

"Breathe deeply and relax. And as you relax, imagine yourself strolling on a serene and beautiful hillside blanketed in grasses and wildflowers." He described a peaceful landscape scene she had evocatively depicted in one of her pre-marriage paintings. "Picture your muscles becoming loose and limp, feeling completely restful as you savor the most exquisite trance state."

Ondine's fingers fell motionless upon her lap, and her head drooped sideways on the pillow, turning towards him.

"As you amble among the flowers, the sunlight is warm and soothing. There may be a breeze stirring the grasses and flowers... they wave gently to and fro. And as you relax even more deeply, you might even find a pleasant spot to sit and enjoy the tranquil view."

With infinitesimally careful motions, Anders lowered his hand holding the crystal. "And as you relax on your beautiful hillside, your vision and memory grow clearer and clearer."

Her eyelids tremored then relaxed.

"The memories flow over you with greater and greater clarity." Anders silently flipped to a blank page in his notebook. After a long pause in which the only sound was the faint ticking of the clock on the mantel, he murmured, "When did you first meet Peter Van der Veen?"

Chapter 26. PETER VAN DER VEEN

For several moments, Ondine's chest expanded and relaxed with her breathing, even as Anders held his own breath in agitated suspense. Had the induction been successful? Would she suddenly open her eyes and ruefully sit up as she had with Dr. Schuller?

The girl's lips quivered --- a prolonged hush hovered in the shadowed part between them --- then a soft sound issued forth. He had to lean closer to make out the toneless murmur: "It was during my final year at the academy --- during the Christmas holiday of 1898."

His pulse jumped --- had it worked? Silence stretched out after her statement. Scarcely daring to move, he prompted, "The academy?"

"Finishing school." There was a pause, then: "How I despised finishing school."

"Why?"

"An unsurpassed exercise in insipidness, Mr. Røkke. Being shy, I was scorned by the other girls with the exception of one student, Lillian. My friendship with Lillian and our diversions in archery and beekeeping were the only sources of pleasure for me during my school years." Ondine's tone was flat.

"Had you no choice about attending?"

"No. My aunt insisted upon it. Not attending was unheard of in our social circle. But I had no interest in becoming a Society lady --- hosting elegant parties and collecting luxury goods. I longed to pursue something more meaningful with my life --- I knew not what that might be, but anticipated with certainty that my longings would run afoul of my aunt's plans."

"Her plans?"

"An advantageous marriage. As graduation loomed ever nearer, my aunt's letters began to discuss eligible marriage partners for me." Ondine's lips pressed together momentarily. "My agitation burgeoned --- beholden as I was to my aunt and uncle for my welfare, my choices were to accept this unwelcome fate, forestall an arranged marriage until I could access my trust money, or resort to drastic measures such as running away."

Anders nodded in sympathy. "This was when you met Peter?"

"Yes... during the Christmas holiday. Notwithstanding the fact that going 'home' for Christmas meant going to my aunt's and uncle's house --- and my aunt's endless schedule of social engagements --- I was happy to leave the academy for a week. My brother Bram was in New York, on leave from the war for the holiday, and I hadn't seen him for almost a year."

Ondine's voice grew stronger. "Bram invited a friend to stay at the house for the weekend. His name was Peter Van der Veen, and he was the proprietor of a munitions firm in Newark that had been contracted by the government to outfit the army for its Philippines engagement. Very quickly, I understood there was something unusual about Peter Van der Veen compared to all the other men I had met in my family's social sphere."

"Unusual?"

"Yes... but not so much in appearance. He was a man of my brother's age --- some ten years older than me --- of average height and figure with auburn hair and a well-groomed mustache. Intense green eyes and angular features rendered him strangely compelling, if not conventionally handsome. His garments and trimmings were all in keeping with a man of wealth and were of a like quality to Bram's and my uncle's.

"What was most striking about him was his manner. He entered the room with a swaggering gait, and when Bram first introduced him to me, he grasped my hand boldly, squeezing with more pressure than was seemly, all while his magnetic eyes made a lingering, unabashed survey of me. 'Aren't you a beaut!' he exclaimed.

"My cheeks pinkened. All the men I had encountered so far in my life prided themselves on being gentlemen and would not have conducted themselves so upon being introduced to a lady. I had never met a man so forward, and I experienced a nervous fluttering at his unsettling interest."

Anders scribbled notes in his book as he followed the steady cadence of her speech, encouraged to hear the words now flow forth from the girl's lips like long-constrained water finally breaching a dam. It echoed patients' free association sessions on Schuller's couch, but with a strange, pressing momentum. "What happened next?"

"That afternoon, Bram and Peter announced their intention of taking the carriage up to Van Cortlandt Park to test a prototype revolver Peter had designed. I pressed my brother to let me accompany them, both with the purpose of spending more time with him and escaping my aunt's tea party. On the ride out, I sat next to Bram while Peter sat on the opposite seat, turning the revolver over in his hands and discussing its refinements with my brother.

"By-and-by, he looked at me with an amused expression. 'Would you like to hold it, Miss Cornelissen?' He held it out. 'Here, go ahead and feel it.'

"'Hold on, bucko!' my brother said, grabbing the gun. 'It's not loaded, is it?' After reassuring himself it was safe, he passed the revolver to me. As I examined the cold, heavy object, Peter smiled and encouraged me to appreciate the novel features of the barrel and cylinder.

"Once arrived at the park, we made our way to the snow-covered golf course where Peter, heedless of his expensive clothes and shoes, trotted through the snow to set up a row of empty tin cans on sticks. The two of them proceeded to take turns firing the gun at the improvised targets while I covered my ears with my hands. Peter offered the gun to Bram for the final shot, but my brother shook his head, turning away.

"'You take it. Nature's calling.' He trudged through the snow towards a cluster of trees.

"Peter grinned at me. 'Miss Cornelissen, would you like to fire my gun?'

"I accepted enthusiastically, and Peter took great pains to coach me in the proper stance, his hands adjusting my hips, shoulders, and arms. So close behind me was he, I could smell the scent of hair oil and gunpowder on him. At one point as I stood with my arms outstretched before me, I felt a tug on the cord around my neck from which my fur muff was suspended.

"'Pardon me, my lady, my fingers accidentally slipped into your muff.' He chuckled close to my ear, his mustache tickling me. There was an ironic emphasis to the words my lady."

Anders shook his head as he wrote.

"I sensed he was teasing me somehow, but I was too engrossed in aiming at the target to make sense of it. 'May I pull the trigger now?'

"'Is the bead just below the target? Then slowly squeeze the trigger, don't jerk it.'

"I squeezed the trigger and was thrown back against Peter with the explosion. I missed the can, but firing the pistol was an exhilarating sensation." Ondine's forefinger slowly curled and straightened in her lap.

Anders' pencil hovered above the page. Keep talking. Keep talking. "And then what happened?"

"That was it for the shooting. In the evening, Peter Van der Veen accompanied us to the Vanderbilts' Christmas ball, where the energetic gun entrepreneur attracted general notice with his unconventional behavior."

"What did he do?" Anders asked.

Ondine's lips twitched up with a ghost of a smile. "He addressed exalted guests without a proper introduction... he emitted a low whistle at the grand entrance of one of the host's nieces in her dazzling gown... he pressed me to give him dances promised to other young men. Most guests eyed him askance, but I did overhear a pair of men credit Van der Veen with uncommon gumption.

"When I did at last dance with him, he held me with a confident bearing, but his grip was tighter than decorum dictated --- and I was flustered by his avid gaze which rarely strayed from my person."

"How did you feel about his behavior?"

Her eyelids tensed and relaxed before she responded, "In truth, the hint of impropriety in his attentions perturbed me, but instead of being offended as I should have been, I was confused and intrigued by it. My aunt and uncle were unsettled by his conduct and expressed their doubts to my brother --- they suspected Mr. Van der Veen was a social climber, likely seeking to advance his status in society by marrying a young lady with a sterling family name."

Anders smiled wryly, recalling Mrs. Cornelissen's disapproval of himself. They were clearly suspicious of anyone outside their social sphere. "What happened next?"

"When Peter Van der Veen took his leave the following day, my aunt and uncle were relieved by the departure of the brash houseguest --- my own discomposure was likewise assuaged.

"My brother Bram drew me aside shortly thereafter and warned me against paying too much heed to his unruly friend. 'He has a bit of an eye for the ladies, if you catch my drift.'

"I had heard that expression before, but as it always had been followed by a pointed lowering of voices, I was not fully versed in its meaning. But it was a moot warning, as Mr. Van der Veen was gone, and I passed the rest of the holiday contending with a myriad of social functions my aunt had enjoined upon me. Shortly thereafter, I returned to the academy, while Bram returned to his unit in the Philippines."

Anders flipped to a new page in his notebook. Something about the tale of her first meeting with Van der Veen troubled him. In the beam of sunlight from the windows, he could see the subtle pulse in Ondine's neck --- its slow pace assuring him of her relaxed state. "When did you next encounter Peter?" he asked.

"Not until the summer. But even those two days in his company over Christmas effected a mysterious change in myself. When I returned to school, I did not return the same person I had been before the holiday.

"Although I remained as naïve as ever, Peter Van der Veen's bold looks, words, and touch had awoken in me a novel self-consciousness. No longer was I a blithely unaware, scrawny youngster --- I was grown now and I was indisputably female. A man my brother's age had noticed me and had responded to me as such... had flirted with me! Yes, innocent though I was, I arrived at that deduction.

"During that final semester at the academy, I was possessed by a heretofore unknown inquisitiveness about the opposite sex and relations between the sexes. A long-entrenched sense of shame had successfully squelched all such curiosity prior to this point.

"Now, a furtive search through the books in the school library followed, but the stringently regulated collection provided no useful information on the subject. Whereas previously I had paid no mind to the whisperings and gossip among the other students and servants, I now listened eagerly in the hope of gaining some understanding of the mysterious, scandalous thing that was ever hinted at, but never outwardly discussed --- at least not in my presence.

"From both the strict teachings throughout my life and my recent covert research, all I could glean was that courting and spooning and so-called 'relations' were connected with producing children. I knew that it involved the joining of the male's and female's bodies. I knew too that it must not occur prior to marriage, for it would be the ruination of the poor, foolhardy girl.

"The other recurring pronouncement was that it was dreadful, but it was a wife's duty. Considered logically, this did not account for society's coy and embarrassed preoccupation with the matter. I thus remained as mystified as ever."

Anders nodded slowly. Her words confirmed his past speculations about American upper-class attitudes towards sex --- at least for females. "Did anything further follow from your new curiosity?"

"No --- not until the summer."

"When school was over?"

"Yes. May 1899 at last arrived, and Aunt Adele's first order of business following my graduation from finishing school was hosting the requisite coming-out reception. Over the past several months, my aunt and uncle had been quite active on my unwilling behalf, discussing me with various interested families and sorting through eligible bachelors. By the time I returned to the city from school, they had narrowed the field to three contenders from prominent families --- an alliance with which would enhance the Cornelissen family's prestige, fortify its business connections, or both.

"I objected to the coming-out reception. It was an antiquated ritual essentially presenting young women as merchandise to be auctioned --- so I opined. It was an extravagant expenditure of funds that could be put to better use. And I was not ready for marriage.

"My aunt rebuffed all my objections, declaring the party already arranged and calling me a fractious ingrate. I had better attend and be on my best behavior, she warned, or she would stop my allowance and cease paying for my art lessons."

Anders frowned and murmured, "An unpleasant dilemma."

"Yes. My friend Lillian, who had also returned to her family in New York City after leaving the academy, advised me to bide my time and avoid angering my aunt and uncle. No harm could come from at least meeting the would-be suitors --- they might prove to be more amiable than I supposed. In the end, I followed Lillian's advice and acquiesced to the reception."

"Did it ease the situation?"

Ondine's brows briefly drew together. "No. The remainder of May was a whirlwind of dinners, receptions, dances, tea parties, and social calls. In June, we relocated to the house in Newport, and the social events continued through the summer, unaltered save for the cooler weather. During this time, I made the better acquaintance of the three gentlemen vying for my hand, along with several others likewise interested."

Anders fought a wave of jealousy. "Were you drawn to any of them?"

"No. Even after several weeks, I found myself unmoved by the well-mannered attentions of any of these men. My friend Lillian was similarly in Newport with her family, and visits with her were my only relief from this otherwise vapid mission."

"It was during this time you saw Peter again?"

"Yes. Come August, a telegram arrived from my brother with a most welcome surprise: he would soon be on leave to attend a surgical course at Harvard and intended to pass the weekends in Newport. The Friday afternoon when he arrived, Aunt Adele was hosting a garden party and I was engaged in a croquet game on the lawn. I heard my name called and looked up to see Bram striding through the garden.

"'Bram!' I ran to meet him and was swept off my feet in a bearhug.

"'How well you're looking, sissy! All grown up, aren't you?'

"'And you've grown so tan!' I observed.

"A pointy object prodded my backside, and I turned expecting to see a child or a dog responsible for the rude gesture..." Her voice trailed off.

"What was it?" Anders asked.

"Him. In shock I beheld Bram's cocky friend, Peter Van der Veen. He grinned at me, twirling his walking stick like a baton. He was dressed in a light-colored linen suit and straw boater hat, just like all the other gentlemen. But unlike the other men, the candid gleam in his green eyes as he surveyed my person elicited a disconcerted flutter in my belly.

"'Well, if it isn't Calamity Jane!' said he.

"I looked at him in confusion. 'Who?'

"'Didn't they teach you anything at that damned school of yours?' Peter laughed. 'Calamity Jane is a famous lady sharpshooter --- a gun expert.'

"Bram gave him a chiding look for his off-color language.

"'Oh,' I mumbled. Embarrassed pleasure at his teasing was swiftly followed by a whimsical contemplation of the heretofore unknown profession of lady sharpshooter.

"Bram proceeded onto the lawn to greet other guests, while Peter and I slowly ambled in his wake. I was pleased to learn he was staying the weekend, subversively anticipating my aunt's irritation. Even as the reluctant hostess regarded him coldly from her shaded tea table, Peter vaulted over the short wall separating the garden from the lawn and picked up a croquet mallet and ball.

"'How do you play this la-di-da game?' He tossed the ball into the air and, swinging the mallet like a baseball bat, knocked it in a high arc across the lawn towards the ocean cliff. A pair of small boys ran after it hollering, followed by the neighbor lady's barking poodle. Several guests turned to eye the newcomer. Thus began the enlivened weekend."

Anders underlined the word August. "What passed during the weekend?"

"In the evening, we all attended Mrs. Astor's summer ball at Beechwood. There, after dinner, I was at once surrounded by a cluster of men requesting spots on my dance card --- Peter pushed his way past them and demanded the final waltz. The young manufacturing heir currently claiming that spot took exception to his ill-bred rival, and confronted Peter's belligerent gaze with contemptuous amazement. If not for the elegant surroundings and my presence, a most unpleasant scene doubtless would have erupted.

"I enforced proper etiquette and offered Peter a different waltz. For the remainder of the evening, he skulked at the side of the dance floor, scowling at my partners as we whirled by. When his waltz at length arrived, I felt anew the spell of his probing green eyes and the strength of his arms as he steered me around the floor." Ondine's fingers briefly stirred, then fell motionless.

"The following morning, neither Bram nor Peter appeared at breakfast, having evidently pursued their own diversions after the ball to return in the early hours of the morning.

"After breakfast, I set up my easel on the front lawn and stood, palette in hand, engrossed in my painting when I heard Peter's murmur close behind me. 'There's a rose I'd like to pluck.' There was a tugging at the silk flowers on my straw hat.

"I whirled around, and he chuckled at my wide-eyed look. He surveyed my rendition of the cliffside and ocean. 'That's class. You're quite talented with your hands, aren't you?' He winked at me."