by C J Murphy
“I may stay in bed to see what it would be like to be Miranda.” Kelly laughed and set her guitar down. “Think I’m turning in too. See you in the morning.”
Kyo turned circles before she lay down behind Noeul’s knees with a huff. Noeul pulled up the soft quilt and reached back to stroke furry ears, as she drifted through a fitful slideshow of her past. Her dream landed her in the parlor of Grand-mère Montieu.
The smell of fragrant cigar smoke floated around her, as Noeul watched the cowrie shells being poured from the bowl onto the table. The room was alight with the soft glow of candles that cast shadows on the ceremonial articles all around the room.
Grand-mère’s thick Creole broke the silence. “Aleyo, what bring you to me? I can tell…your energy is wounded.”
Noeul drew her brows together in confusion. “Aleyo? I’m sorry I don’t understand?
“Ah, dat mean stranger to our ways.”
“My apologies, Grand-mère, Joëlle thought you might be able to help me with a request.”
“We get to dat. First, I do a diloggun consulta, and petition da orishas to read your energy.”
Noeul sat with rapt attention, as Grand-mère walked over to a small shrine adorned with several water glasses. She rubbed something on her hands and flicked them in the direction of the glasses. Soft words were spoken, as the woman dressed in brightly colored robes lit a white candle among the glasses and small items that sat on a white covering. Grand-mère puffed deeply on her cigar and blew a steady stream of smoke across the altar. Noeul’s only cultural references made her think about a Catholic priest using incense and the lighting of candles for offered prayers.
Grand-mère came back to the table, rattled a wooden bowl, and rolled the shells out onto the surface. Some of the shells landed with the openings up and some were down. She positioned the shells so that they were in four columns, each containing four shells. Noeul could hear the woman mumbling, as she stared at the shells and said something about their mouths. Her fingers pointed back and forth.
“Elegguá say your energy is osogbo, unbalanced, my child.”
“Grand-mère, what does that mean?”
“It means, we need to find you some peace, child.”
Over the next hour, Grand-mère performed a spiritual cleansing in an attempt to balance things in Noeul’s wounded spirit and to dispel the darkness she said surrounded Noeul. Nothing could bring Aggie back. By opening herself up to the possibility of spirits who were capable of aligning things outside of her control, Noeul hoped she could find some of the peace Grand-mère spoke of. When they were done, Grand-mère offered to create a bóveda for Aggie in a back room of her own home.
“We make a small shrine adorned with des offerings, my child. You are welcome here anytime to pay your respects to da one who has passed over.” In among the water glasses and candles, she’d left a picture of Aggie, along with the memorial cylinder.
Grand-mère had explained everything and led Noeul through each step. “Now, my child, know dis, no life can thrive in a place wit’out hope. To stay in balance, you can’t lean too far on one side of da path. I have seen da future. A seeker come, and you must be open to da path yet to be revealed. I know you do not understand. Be patient. All will be revealed.”
Grand-mère walked Noeul to the door. “Grand-mère, thank you more than I can say. I feel more at peace than I have since Aggie left me.”
“Only her body leave you, child. Now her spirit watch over you. You listen close, and I know you hear her.” The larger woman embraced Noeul in a bone-crushing hug. She’d left New Orleans feeling like a completely different person, or at least feeling more like the person she was before Aggie’s death. Noeul had been given a gift and she intended to use it to the best of her abilities.
***
Jordan sat at the Blacksmith Bar, once again listening to the house musician and sipping on another brand of bourbon that Joëlle recommended. Her mind was full of information. Everything she’d experienced was like a giant jigsaw puzzle that she needed to systematically separate and categorize. She thought back to her afternoon with Joëlle at Grand-mère Montieu’s and tried to decipher and make sense of the day.
“Elegguá say your energy is iré. Dat mean you are in balance. Dis good. He show me a vision of you on a path, a path dat take you to a child of Orishaokó. He say, you a child of da same.”
Joëlle looked at Jordan. “What Grand-mère is saying is that these are both good things. You are doing exactly what you are supposed to be doing, and your path will take you to another child of Orishaokó. That particular orisha, or god, is called the tiller of the land.” She raised an eyebrow and grinned at Jordan. Jordan studied her and reflected on the concept that her path was somehow preordained.
Grand-mère Montieu’s spoke again. “You are a child of da light and a daughter of Orishaokó. You must live in da light for life to grow, my child.”
Grand-mère Montieu had led her to the bóveda Noeul had created for her wife. She cleansed Jordan’s spirit and had her pay homage to the dead, before she was allowed to open the capsule where she carefully removed Noeul’s letter and the other paper that contained the clues, which she committed to memory. She’d placed everything back exactly where it had been found. With Grand-mère’s permission, she’d added a piece of turquoise from Havasu Falls and a small stone she’d found near the tree at Moose Lake, in tribute.
Now, Jordan sat at the bar watching the beautiful bartender take care of customers. Joëlle returned with a smile and motioned to Jordan’s glass for a refill. She retrieved the bottle she’d poured the earlier dram from and poured one for Jordan and one for herself.
“So where do you go from here, Jordan?”
Jordan took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts, as she took a sip. The excellent whiskey had a dark smoky flavor with a touch of sweetness. “Well, the first thing I’m going to do is go see my sister and mother in Washington, D.C. It’s been too long since I’ve shared the same space with them, and I have to fix that. I’ve been so caught up in my work and now this quest. I don’t know, I…I need to touch base with them. While I’m there, my superbrain of a sister and I will work out the next set of clues.”
“What will you do if you can’t find Noeul?”
“I don’t know. Probably return to Cornell and try to discover the missing research myself. This is my life’s work, and it’s too important to give up. That’s why I’m traipsing all over the country, sleeping in my Jeep, on the ground, and in haunted guest houses for even the slimmest chance I can find Noeul. I have to believe I’m doing exactly what I’m supposed to.” Jordan stopped and squinted at Joëlle for a second “What did Elegguá say? My path is true and that I’m following my purpose. I have to believe that’s why all these extraordinary things keep making themselves known.”
“I believe you’re destined to find Noeul. Your path may be true. I wish Elegguá had given you a better idea about how long that path will be. Only you will know when you have found the end.”
Jordan watched Joëlle’s golden eyes drop from her own as she spoke. “If you don’t, will you ever travel back this way?”
Jordan entwined their fingers and rubbed the outside of Joëlle’s index finger with her thumb. “It’s possible, though I can’t make any promises. I will promise that if I do, I’ll check in with you." She patted her pocket with her other hand, where her phone was. “I have your number, remember?”
Joëlle smiled. “When will you leave?”
“In the morning. I’m going to try and get as far north as I can before I camp for the night. I hope to make it to D.C. in the next few days, if I can. My sister, Dava, is off on Saturday and Sunday. If I can get in by Friday night, we’ll have the entire weekend to visit.”
Joëlle met her eyes and lingered. “I wish we had more time to explore this. As stupid as this is going to sound, I’m not a one-night-stand kind of girl. Somehow, I don’t get the feeling you are either.”
Jordan’s gaze
softened. “No, and you deserve more than one night. That I’m very sure of.”
“I think you deserve that same thing, Jordan. How about we enjoy the music and the company?” Joëlle released her hand and moved up the bar to take care of a couple who’d entered.
Jordan waited until Joëlle had been relieved by the owner, who’d finally made it back from his unplanned trip out of the city. They walked hand and hand to Joëlle’s convertible. Jordan leaned against its trunk and pulled Joëlle between her splayed legs, holding her around the waist while Joëlle leaned into her. Jordan felt toned arms snake around her neck, as she let her head fall against Joëlle’s shoulder. Fingers stroked through her hair and held her close.
“You know, I wish I wasn’t so honorable right about now.”
Joëlle chuckled. “I was thinking the same thing. Damn shame that we are.”
Jordan tilted her head and found Joëlle’s lips. They were silky soft and tasted of bourbon. Jordan held her by the hips, as Joëlle’s tongue darted in and out of her mouth. The night was warm, and Joëlle felt good in her arms. There was a stirring she hadn’t felt in a very long time, not since—
“Hey, where’s your head?” Joëlle gently bit her lower lip, bringing Jordan’s focus back.
“Believe it or not, lost in you. It’s been a very long time since anyone has churned me up like you have.”
“I can believe it, because I feel the same way.” She put her forehead against Jordan’s and took a shuddering breath. “Just don’t lose that number, chercheur.”
Jordan kissed her once more then moved Joëlle back a fraction, until their bodies were no longer touching, their foreheads still together. “Idiot is more like it. Au revoir, Joëlle.”
“Au revoir, chère. Joëlle pulled her keys out of her pocket and slid into her Corvette.
Jordan stood as the beautiful woman pulled out onto the street. She watched until she could no longer see the red glow of her taillights. She let her head fall back for a moment. When she had composed herself, she walked across the street to the guesthouse and dialed her sister.
“So, how did your appointment go? Did you find the memorial?”
“I did. Believe it or not, it was actually at the priestess’s house. Grand-mère Montieu helped Noeul create a type of altar memorial, and still maintains it.”
“Unreal. So, what’s the next clue?”
Jordan laughed at Dava’s enthusiasm. “We’ll work on that when I see you. I’m headed out in the morning. I’ll drive as far as I can tomorrow before I camp for the night. I should reach you guys by Friday evening, so we’ll have the weekend.”
Dava protested. “You might be driving right by one and not know if we don’t decipher the clues as soon as possible.”
“True, and it might take me even farther from you. Right now, I need to see you guys. Don’t ask me to explain it, I just do.”
“JJ, you never need to explain a thing. You get your ass here, and I’ll have Mom make mansaf. With that amount of time, Mom will be able to marinate the lamb to perfection.”
Jordan’s mouth watered with thoughts of the layers of vegetables and lamb over rice. “And that’s why I love you, little sister, you always know how to bring me home.”
Chapter Eight
NOEUL WOKE IN A sweat around five in the morning. She tried to lay in bed and hoped for sleep to return. It never came. Frustrated, she got up and let Kyo out. Once she’d started the coffee and preheated the oven, she let Kyo back in and fed her some of the sweet potato noodles and cooked beef. Kyo buried her head noisily in her bowl, while Noeul began gathering ingredients for the biscuits.
The small kitchen was comfortable to work in, and Noeul felt at home pulling bowls and baking pans from Kelly’s cabinets. Kyo lay near the door watching her. The ingredients for breakfast were lying out on the counter, and Noeul had placed the last drop biscuit on the baking pan, when Kelly entered the kitchen, yawning and scrubbing her eyes.
Noeul looked up at the pillow-crease marks that lined Kelly’s cheeks. “I’m sorry Kel, was I making too much noise? I tried hard to be quiet. “
“No, hon, I’m always awake early. Twenty-five years of waking up at the same time will do that to you. When I was still working, I was actually up earlier than this.” She took a seat at the counter and leaned on an elbow.
Noeul slid a cup of coffee in front of her and began cleaning up the mess from the biscuits. “What time do you think Miranda will stir? I don’t want to start the eggs too soon.”
Kelly sipped the rich coffee and let out a groan of appreciation. “Can I pretend I never met Miranda and ask you to marry me?”
Noeul stifled a laugh. “Kel, I love you. You know that.”
Kelly held a hand up and stopped her next words. “I know, honey, I’m not near ‘rugged’ enough for you.” She made air quotes. “I’ll ask that you make it up to me by making another pot of coffee after I drink this one.”
“That I can do for you and make you breakfast. Now, what time will Miranda be up?”
“Who the hell can sleep with all this lovey dovey racket in here?” Miranda walked up and put her arms around Noeul. “Can I score a cup of that coffee, beautiful?”
Noeul turned and kissed her cheek, as she pulled away to fill a cup. She put it on the counter near Miranda and checked on her biscuits, while pulling out a large, cast iron skillet.
Miranda leaned in and leered at her wife. “Don’t think I didn’t hear your plot to replace me either. You’d miss me in about, say, twenty years.”
Noeul laughed at them both, while she arranged thick strips of bacon in the hot skillet and cracked eggs into a bowl. She added heavy cream and pulled out another skillet for scrambled eggs.
“Can I have cheese in mine, please?” Miranda sipped her coffee and, like Kelly, moaned in pleasure. “Ok, I’m on the bandwagon. If I divorce Kelly, will you marry me? I think I might even fit your type.”
Kelly lifted one eyebrow and rolled her head on her hand to look at Miranda. “She’d divorce you in five, no three minutes. Probably after the first time you left your muddy boots in the hallway. Best stick with me, babe. I’ve learned to overlook your faults.”
Miranda looked to the ceiling. “Probably so. Sorry, Noeul. I’ll dance with the one that brung me.” She leaned over and kissed Kelly.
“You two.” Noeul used a fork to flip the bacon. Slowly, she filled the second skillet full with the egg mix and adjusted the heat.
After breakfast, Miranda headed outside to tend to the cabins that would have guests later in the day. Noeul went back to the computer for some more research and to place a few more orders. She was continually drawn back to the published works of her former student. The documents she accessed were comprehensive, detailed, and well written. It was obvious that Jordan cared deeply about solving the world’s hunger problem. Noeul downloaded two of Jordan’s books onto an external hard drive to read later, on her tablet. Noeul preferred to hold a real book in her hands and decided to order the hardbacks as well. It was about ten in the morning when Miranda stuck her head in the office, with Kyo at her side.
“Want to take Kyo for a run?”
“That sounds like a great idea. I’ve been sitting here for a few hours, and I could use the fresh air. I’ll go change.”
Noeul and Miranda took to the trails around the property, getting in an hour's run. They hit the trail that led them down by the lake, where Noeul gave Kyo a stern look to keep her from jumping in to chase the ducks. She and Miranda were good partners when it came to physical fitness, and they enjoyed this time together. As they came through the gate, the smell of warm bread hung in the air and both women picked up their pace. Kelly met them at the back door with towels and ordered both to remove their muddy shoes. Miranda wiped down Kyo after she finished cleaning off the back of her own legs. Both women came inside, as Kelly began to dish out the potato soup she’d started after breakfast. Miranda snagged a piece of hot bread. Kelly was fast with the dish towel draped
over her shoulder, and slapped Miranda away from the plate.
“Go wash your hands. Land sakes, that woman.”
Noeul entered the kitchen after she’d washed her own hands and caught the exchange. I used to have that with Aggie. She pushed the feeling aside and sat down at the table, breathing in the aromas of Kelly’s extraordinary talents.
Noeul had learned to make cheese and butter from her extra goat milk, and the excess she produced supplied her friends with all they could handle. She pulled a roll apart and used a knife to slather it with real butter that melted immediately. “Mmmm.”
Miranda joined them at the table. “Smells great, Kel, and from the sounds that one made, it must taste as good. I’m starving.” Miranda downed a large glass of water quickly, and Kelly replaced it with a second almost immediately. They seemed to read each other’s minds and functioned like a finely tuned machine, always being able to anticipate the other’s movements and needs. Noeul laughed as Miranda dribbled soup down the front of her shirt.
“What can I say, you can dress her up, but you can’t take her anywhere. You going to stay another night with us, hon? We’d love to have you.” Kelly slathered her own bread and rolled her eyes at the first bite.
Noeul smiled. “No, I’m packing up right after lunch. Can’t leave Pip and the girls too long without milking. They’d be miserable. I’ve got some work in the green house I need to do. I love staying with you two. Unfortunately, there’s no one at home to pick up the slack when I’m gone.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the girls looking at each other, the look sad and pensive. Noeul knew her friends wanted her to be happy and worried about her being alone. I don’t see anything changing that anytime soon.
***
Jordan inched along I-66, her hand fisted in her hair. She glanced at the dashboard clock with regret that she hadn’t left earlier. I should have left before six, dammit. Rush hour traffic trying to get in and around Washington D. C., was a nightmare. Dava lived downtown so that she didn’t have to commute long distances to the places she did business with. Their mother lived a few streets over and would be waiting at Dava’s for Jordan’s arrival, while cooking one of Jordan’s favorite meals.
