by Trinity Crow
I drew in my breath, moving uneasily on the seat. "With Julia," I said, in cold certainty.
"Yea, Lord." he agreed. "Those eyes you got from Julia, she have from her great-grandmere in France. Fanchon's eyes were the clear brown of praline sugar in the light. When the Julia was born, the other slaves took matters into they own hands. They see this baby, innocent, born of one man's grief and another's hate. They see Fanchon hell bent on destroying what chance they have for safety in this land miles from the only place they call home. They see she, by color of her skin, have a chance to escape the chains of slavery. It was a dark night when Fanchon leave this world. They tell Albert she run away, but truth is her body feed the gators that night."
"They killed her." I wasn't shocked. I was in a sick way admiring. This one girl with her single minded focus was threatening the lives of sixty plus people…and using her own kid as a pawn.
"Albert, he don't even guess this little light skinned baby with the black curls and blue-green eyes be his blood. They take her in and raise her and from hate and grief came the brightest light. Fill everybody with a hope. But no denying from the time she a baby, Julia just filled with power. The slaves trained her up, taught her control, comforted her when she saw things other people could not, and became her family. The cabins were as much a home to her as the big house."
"She could draw the veves and call the loa, but she could also do things none of us could without one of the loa helping. It was like she had an inborn connection to the spirit world that we were missing. She could see the dead, set them at rest, or call loved ones for us to talk to. She was a happy little girl, laughing and smiling. Happy heart from unhappy start."
My mind was racing ahead. "Wait." My voice was sharper than I intended. "So…I mean…Julia was mixed blood?"
"You mean, are you mixed?" His voice was amused. "Be worried about your black blood?"
"What?" I shook my head at this stupidity. I had already considered that when Mrs. Evers said the baby had dark skin. Not that I bought into any of this just yet. "No. Does that mean…I knew she didn't cheat on Aidan. The baby was dark because of her mixed blood."
Leotis raised an eyebrow. "I misjudged you, Child, that's my shame. Non, that the baby be theirs, made no difference. He find out she was part black? It would have ended just the same. The night Julia died, she did a very brave thing. They say dying is easy and living is hard, but life after death? Who can say?"
Alcee left Julia, bleeding in the woods and run for help. She rouse her brother and father and they get a wagon and ride. They drive as fast as they dare. Slaves out at night with the master's horse and wagon was suspicious enough. A racing horse and wagon would bring any white man in hearing distance down on them. There was a moon, but it slipped in and out from between the clouds. It was a terrible drive, the men hushing Alcee who breaks into fits of weeping and then chokes herself on her sobs. She's terrified to go back but will not leave Julia to die. The weeping, the retching, and the horses' hooves are the only sound on that empty road, but the air is thick with their fear. Alcee shows them the way. She's unsure of herself in the dark and is muzzy from the loss of blood, but then the moon slips from behind the clouds and Corky's white coat shines out like a beacon. Julia had dragged herself to the edge of the road and she sat head down, folded against Corky's side. They jump out and rush forward to help her, but Corky stand, growling and snarling, his fur bristling like they had never seen. The only person he would let near Julia was Alcee. They were forced to watch as she pulls herself up, helped by the weeping Alcee and an anxious Corky. Shadows hide her face, but it's clear she is hurt bad. She moves like no healthy person would, jerky and unnatural. In the dark, the bloodstains on her nightgown be turned black, but Corky's coat catches the moonlight in a shimmer that make the men look around uneasy like. Too bright. This be not the time to draw eyes to them. Slowly, she climbs into the wagon, that loyal Corky leaping up behind her. Alcee covers her with a blanket. Throughout it all, Julia makes no sound.
"They come round the bend to Ruelliquen and into a scene straight from hell. The house be blazing with fire, people running and screaming, chaos. No one in charge, just panic. They leave off Julia at the carriage house with Alcee to tend her and the men run to help."
"I've heard this part," I told him, trying not to be rude, but wondering if he had anything else to add.
"Uh-huh. That old lady tell you she died by Aidan's hand in the carriage house?"
I nodded, waiting, and not too patiently.
"Maybe she believe that. Maybe they tell her that. But never forget people have two faces, the one they want you to see, and the one they keep hid. But sometimes, if you look just right," he tilted his head, his rheumy eyes looking at me blindly, "you can see that other face slip out."
I said nothing, but he nodded as if satisfied.
"No one knows what happened in that carriage house, but I can tell you what my many times great uncle found…a whole lot of blood and a wooden peg leg. No Julia, no Corky. Alcee barely alive. It's true Julia died that night, sure did. But she died in them woods, twenty miles from the house."
I stared at him. "You just said she got in the wagon and went back to the house."
"Julia got in the wagon alright, but it wasn't her physical self. What waited on the side of the road that night was a sending. Her spirit, if you like. Before she passed out in those woods, Julia used the power she had been born with, the power the slaves had encouraged and taught her to use since she born, the power she passed on to you, to bind herself to this life."
I sat back. This was a use that we had not thought about when Sayre and Chloe tried to explain binding to me. I could feel my face tighten. So this was the punch line. Julia, knowing she was bleeding to death, had bound herself to her body to protect her child and then that had been twisted into a super spell to draw lost children to LaPierre. I shook my head. What a load of crap. No way was I buying this. Right?
"How did she even know the kid was alive?' I said finally, the disbelief loud in my voice.
He blinked his obscene eyes. "Who was there that night?"
Who could have survived? "Alcee?"
"Alcee," he said, nodding his head. "Alcee was there. Alcee tell Julia that child is still alive. The baby was traded for another, given willfully by his mama to save Julia's baby. When Julia bound herself to this earth…"
"What?" I interrupted him, horrified in spite of my disbelief. "They offered their own kid?"
Mr. Leotis snorted. "What do you really know about slavery? Not one mama, but five offered their baby that night. What kind of life, beaten, raped, sold down the river first chance. Death? Well, death is a safe place beside the horrors of this world. People are the truest evil I know of."
"So they switched the babies and showed the Darveauxs the dead one," I said, still sickened at the thought.
Leotis stroked his chin. "Alcee tells Julia as a comfort. Tells her the baby is safe and they are taking the baby to Ruelliquen to be raised by her family. Julia in them woods, bleeding to death, won't be no saving her at the last moment, she takes no comfort from this. Gets wild. Alcee can't calm her down none. "Not gonna leave my baby alone," Julia says. "My child's gonna know I love him." And Alcee, she's there as Julia binds her soul to this earth, ties herself to a talisman and gives it to Alcee, makes her swear to keep it safe and give it to the baby so she can protect him forever. Julia tells Alcee to take the baby North so he can grow up free. And Alcee, she promises. Course by morning, Alcee is dead too."
We sat in silence and watched a blue jay stand guard over the bird feeder. I wanted to ask, but I was torn. I couldn't be somebody's child. I couldn't belong to a family. It was a tearing sensation, not the healing they all talk about. I didn't want to ask. I didn't want to care. It was all bullshit. It had to be. She was dead. I was alive. Who cared? I turned away from him and studied the garden on the far side of the yard. I was just going to be polite and leave. I just had to think of a way to walk away.
But he spoke again, his voice a quiet rumble in the still afternoon air. "Alcee tell my great great great great great uncle where to find Julia and Corky's body out in the woods, where they had died the night before. She tell him about the binding, swear him to secrecy. Tell him take the child north. And he did."
"The talisman," the words tumbled out of my mouth, "where is it?"
"Alcee never get to say where. She pass on having done what she could for her best friend who like a sister to her." He shook his head. "No one ever found it, no one can find it but the child of Julia's child."
There were so many holes in this story. "So where is she buried?"
"Buried!" he uttered a harsh laugh. "They don't bury her. They consecrate her body to they devils, steal bits and pieces off her to call for you." Leotis leaned in, his breath smelling of tobacco and licorice. "There a graveyard out there in the woods behind the big house. There's a tomb have her name on it, but she's not in it. They have her in a glass case inside the house, wrapped in curses and covered in bad juju. We have Julia's own call, pulling the child back here to LaPierre. They twisted it to suit themselves, bending the witch's weird to make this town a trap for anyone lost. Nothing good they be up to. Dark ways, dark heart. To hell with the world and its peoples. They put themselves first always." His voice was bitter with experience.
Didn't everyone? And the thought of Aren arguing for me to help others came to mind. Okay, maybe there were a few who weren't just out for themselves, but I had no guarantees where way Leotis stood in all this.
He noticed my restlessness and smiled. "It sure is a lot to take in. Maybe after you think about it a spell, you'll have some questions. Could be we'll help you find the answers."
I thanked him, but I didn't know if I meant it. I was just grateful to get on my bike and ride the hell out of there. I had come for answers but everything seemed more complicated instead of less. And I couldn't find a reason to care.
Chapter 28
I had a lot to think about at work the next day. I was doing my best to pretend I wasn't knee deep in a supernatural soap opera, but that lie was sinking fast. It didn't matter. Who cared if I found a family? They were all dead anyway. Besides, I was done with people for good…and dogs. My heart gave a funny squeeze when I thought about him, but I slapped the feeling away. I was done with feelings too.
Then the phone rang.
Mrs. D's face looked worried as she answered, and when she turned and held the phone out to me, my heart sank. No one called me. Not ever. My pulse sped up.
"Hello?" I said, tensely. I don't know what I was expecting. Very possibly some caller from beyond the grave.
"Hel-lo?" The voice on the other end was wavery, a little kid.
"Yeah?" The hair prickled on the back of my neck.
"This is Emily Delaine Benoit."
Her seriousness and the need to state her full name should have amused me, but I was having a seriously bad feeling. The prickles intensified. That wavering in her voice was fear.
"Hey, Em," I said, "what's up?"
"They're back." she said, "And they're mad."
In the background, I heard Deena shriek hysterically. They were back. Nikki's parents. My little display with the wind had only bought some time…and time had run out.
"I'm scared," Emily whispered. And the words broke me.
"I'm coming," I said and hung up the phone. "I have to go," I told Mrs. D. who was standing there, waiting to see what was going on. She waved me out the door, thankfully not asking questions. I ran out back, still in my apron and unlocked my bike. Sayre came flying towards me as I headed down the street.
"Something's up," she gasped the words out.
"Yeah, I'll explain later. I have to go."
"I'll drive you." She waved her keys, and without waiting, ran to a crap heap Volkswagen Bug. I ditched my bike against the wall before leaping in the passenger side.
"Delaronde Street," I told her.
"What's going on?"
"The spirit leech things?"
"Holy shit!" she said, "They came back?"
"With a vengeance," I said bitterly because Em had been really scared on the phone, and Emily Delaine Benoit didn't do scared.
"There's stuff in the glove box," Sayre said.
"Stuff?" I opened the compartment and found a plastic Hello Kitty box.
"Amulets," she said. "First off, we protect the kid."
"Kids," I corrected, "four of them live there." The box rattled in my grasp. I had a flash moment thinking the amulets were possessed, then realized my hands were shaking.
"Calm down," Sayre said, then ruined the moment by skidding on two wheels around a corner. "Are you stronger than they are?"
That steadied me. "Definitely. I just don't know what to do." The words sounded suspiciously like wailing, and I bit my lip to shut myself up.
"That's fine. We just need to protect the kids and contain the situation until we can get reinforcement." Sayre was brisk and logical, completely unlike her fluttery self. And I was a shaking, wailing mess. What was happening to me? We swung on to Delaronde and I pointed out the house.
What the hell was I going to tell Deena? I wondered wildly.
The door was open and I didn't bother knocking. Sayre was tight on my heels. I could feel good energy flowing from her, and for a second, wished she was going first. The living room was a trashed, books, broken Elvis statues, and Deena face down, bleeding from a scalp wound.
Holy shit! I thought, echoing Sayre from a moment ago. We ran down the hall to the bedrooms.
The kids were on Em's bed against the wall. Emily was in front, her square little body kneeling, with a rosary in her hand. I could hear her chanting a Hail Mary and something stabbed at my heart seeing her little head bent, her whispery voice trying to hold back the dark. Artie was pushed against the wall, trying not to cry, and Nathan held Nikki who was unconscious, her body shuddering rhythmically. Sayre climbed on to the bed making Emily's head whip up. When her eyes met mine, her strength crumpled. Her little face twisted as Sayre squirmed between them, and all the kids leaned in and grabbed for her. I could feel the colors of her protective aura flow over them, creating a shield.
The energy in the room shifted, turning its attention from the kids to me. Sayre's eyes met mine and she smiled, her grin telling me I got this, showing her confidence in me by going to the kids first. Calm settled over me. I wasn't scared or even angry. I was determined. The space between us churned with power. I moved sideways along the room towards the closet, and it followed me hungrily. From the corner of my eye, I saw Sayre slip amulets over the kids' heads, Nikki first, Em last. I had no time for that. I opened the closet door and stepped inside. The darkness followed me, politely closing the door behind us. For a moment all I could feel was the press of hatred against me, then it tore through the closet pelting me with clothes and toys. The hungry presence trying to break my defenses reminded me of the night Corky came. He wasn't going to save me this time. I was going to have to save myself.
Was it true they would never leave me? I reached for Corky, for Julia and felt a strength and peace fill me. I was Fanchon, a girl torn apart by slavery and hate, I was a Trevautier, trying to make sense of good intentions in a messed up world. I was Julia, oblivious until destroyed, I was Child, filtered from years of neglect, abuse, and abandonment into becoming something more than scarred and bitter. Outside this little space of darkness, there were lives who would flourish or falter by my choices. And I realized the darkness could only really take you if you gave in. The clothes on the rack next to me twitched violently and I recited the verse, preparing to do battle.
Across the water to summon
Upon the wind to find
Unto the fire to veil
Of the earth will bind
I had no fire. Could I conjure a fire? Could I summon something to get them?
Baaaad idea, my head told me sarcastically.
Clothes flew off the rack pelting me. Som
ething tipped off Em's shelf into my arms. A stuffed dog. Screw it. I was a child of the earth. Bind, it was. I grasped the stuffed dog and opened my Spidey sense. Very cool. I could see in the dark. Not so cool were the freaky blobs of purple swollen with anger and frustration.
They were angry? It made me livid. What did they have to be angry about? The fucking cowards! Hurting children, stealing lives! I could see their freaky cords waving like tentacles, and with a burst of fury wrapped my own cords around the father and anchored the connection to the toy. Beneath my feet, the ground shook. Outside the closet, the kids screamed and I heard Sayre hustle them out the room. Emily and Nathan were screaming not to leave me. I turned my attention to the mother, feeling her hate turn to fear. She slithered around the walls, seeking a way out the closet, but that wasn't going to happen. I whipped a power cord around her and tied her to the toy with her loathsome spouse. The aftershock knocked me over.
As I lay on the floor, among clothes and board games, trying to catch my breath, the doorknob rattled. Flinching, I flicked my senses out and I knew by the rainbow aura that it was Sayre. I fumbled for the door, suddenly claustrophobic. Light spilled in, outlining Sayre in the doorway. Her eyes were wide, but she was smiling.
"Just in time," I grumbled.
She laughed, helping me up. "Timing is everything," she said, but I could sense the relief in her. She had been worried she would open the closet to find another Chloe traumatized and broken. But that would never be me. I looked around. I had dropped the toy, and the earthquake had jumbled it up with about four other dog toys. I flicked a sense out. Ugh, I found it, but I didn't want to touch it. I scooped it up in Em's little trash can and went with Sayre to find the others.
They were out in the drive, in fact, half the neighborhood was. They all felt the quake, but the damage was minor, and Deena the only one hurt. Everyone just assumed the falling stuff had knocked her out, and it made explaining the mess and injury a lot easier. Even Deena believed it. Good thing, the Elvis statue had hit her from behind. She was too busy being the center of attention to notice me or ask why I was there.
