by L A Morgan
He stepped out behind Maria and directed her to a straw mat by an opening in a circle. The woman’s sense of relief was almost overcome by her mounting annoyance over the trick. She wrenched her arm out of Steve’s grasp to throw herself down on the mat in an unceremonious fashion. He laughed again, and then took his place beside her.
The drummers and dancers carried on as though they were not there. Everyone seemed to be intent on the primal rhythm as they swayed with the beat. Maria looked on, drawn to the intensity of the spectacle.
The dancing woman’s voice grew shriller and shriller until it finally pierced the night with an agonizing cry as the drumming unexpectedly stopped. The sudden cessation of the sound was startling in itself.
Maria wondered if she was supposed to clap or remain silent. She waited to see what Steve would do. Since he remained motionless, she followed his example. After a short interval, the drums started up again, only this time, the tempo was slower. One of the dancers sat down and insinuated herself into a sensuous dance pattern, moving only her body and arms. The woman appeared to sway to the strains of some unheard melody.
It was captivating. Maria looked on, too rapt to think of anything else. When someone tapped her shoulder, she started, bumping against Steve as she swung her head to see who was there.
It was only a pretty, cinnamon-colored girl, offering her a drink in a hollow coconut shell. Maria thanked her and took the cup. It had a fruity aroma and the liquid was an opaque, indistinguishable color. Turning to Steve, she asked, “What is this?”
The girl only giggled as she handed Steve a similar vessel.
“It’s a passion potion,” Steve said with an amused look. “Drink it.”
Maria smirked and looked back at the beverage.
“Drink it!” the man repeated more forcefully.
Steve watched as Maria held her breath and took a small sip. It was delicious. She had not realized how dry her throat had become. The drink quenched her thirst and titillated her taste buds. Steve watched her as he lifted his own cup to his lips.
As the entertainment continued, the girl served them a variety of Caribbean foods. Most of them were strange to Maria. As she tried some, she gave Steve a glance, and then returned her attention to the dancer.
The woman was now leaning over a basket. She opened the cover and, with the waves of the music, slowly lowered her hands to reach inside. She slowly withdrew a long, sinuous snake.
Maria gasped aloud, although the dancer did not appear to be frightened. She caressed the reptile languorously, and then wove it across her shoulders and around her neck. It appeared to be as mesmerized by the rhythm of the drums as its mistress. The small head pulled back and its forked tongue darted out to quiver in the air.
Continuing to dance, undulating her body to slowly rise to her feet. She wrapped the snake around various parts of her body, allowing it to caress all of her. Maria could not look away. She took another sip of her drink, mesmerized by the performance.
When the dancer put the reptile’s head in her mouth, she cringed and finally looked away. Steve wrapped his arm around her and gave her shoulder a small squeeze. As angry as Maria was with him, she appreciated the sense of security his gesture had given her.
When the dance was over, the drumming continued, taking up a livelier beat. The women left the circle to be replaced by a couple of similarly painted men that performed some amazing feats of contortion, winding themselves into strange, impossible patterns. In the torchlight, they almost looked like dancing skeletons.
The alcohol in the drink began to soothe and relax Maria. She “oohed” and “wowed” with each new fantastic configuration of a man’s body. When that performance was over, she applauded vigorously, missing the grin on Steve’s face.
The musical portion of the entertainment went on to culminate in an appearance of “the Baron Samedi,” the mythical ruler of Voodooland. He appeared out of a puff of smoke to dance in exaggerated, suggestive movements around the fire.
Maria’s eyes opened wide. When he approached her with come-hither gestures to entreat her to join him in his dance, she quickly shook her head and refused him. The Baron threw back his head and laughed loudly, as his eyes picked up a demonic gleam from the torches. After making a number of mysterious incantations and gestures into the jungle darkness, he suddenly stopped to point at Maria. At that instant, the drums went silent.
The woman held her breath as she stared at him in fear. The sense of danger was almost palpable. Just as suddenly, The Baron mysteriously disappeared into a sudden burst of fire and smoke.
All remained silent. Maria still held her breath, not daring to break the spell. She started when Steve began to clap loudly. Instantly turning to stare at him, she saw he was smiling. She finally realized that this had been the show’s finale. Tenuously, she joined in Steve’s applause.
The drumbeat started again, and the pretty girl returned to offer them another drink. After she served them, the girl whispered a few words into Steve’s ear, and then scurried away.
He turned to Maria and said, “She invited us to join the witch woman in her hut so she can tell our fortune. Would you like to go?”
Maria looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. In truth, the idea did not appeal to her at all. She was repulsed and frightened by it. On the other hand, she did not want Steve to think she was afraid. So she nodded to him.
With a few quick swallows, she finished her drink. Maria could feel the warmth of the alcohol rushing through her veins. This made her feel strangely at ease with the situation.
Getting up from the mat, she followed Steve to the largest structure in the clearing. They had to bow their heads to walk beneath the low doorway.
The interior was filled with the smoke of numerous votive candles and sticks of incense. At the back of the hut, an ancient gray-haired woman sat hunched over a deck of tarot cards. Steve and Maria moved forward to sit cross-legged on the mat in front of her. When she looked up, Maria could see that the pupils of her eyes were clouded by a filmy, gray/white haze.
The woman gave them an almost toothless grin and turned a card to place it before Maria.
“There is turmoil in your life,” she said in a low, gravelly voice.
Maria nodded, but said nothing as she waited in awe. The witch woman turned another card, placing it beside the first.
“Lies and deceit,” she breathed, and her empty gaze took in both of the listeners.
Without looking down, Maria felt Steve’s hand slip around her waist. He gave her side a small squeeze. Maria could not take her away from the woman.
She turned another card. “I see distrust.”
Maria looked down at the tarot card, but she could not see how that picture gave the woman her surprisingly accurate information. Another card turned.
“A major event is about to happen.”
Steve shifted a little. Maria looked at him to try to see what he was thinking, but he only appeared to be seeking a more comfortable position.
The witch woman took another card off the top of her deck and held it in the air for a moment, appearing to have some internal issue with the card. She closed her eyes and waved it around in the smoke.
For some reason, Maria had the feeling that this card would have some definite impact on her life. She was unsure if she wanted to hear its interpretation or not. In nervous tension, she bit her lower lip. Would the witch woman see happiness or despair in her future? She had been amazingly correct so far. What would the last card reveal?
Finally, the old woman placed it down beside the others.
After a long, anxious pause, she looked up at her audience stoically, casting her cloudy eyes from one to the other. She shook her head, as if to clear her thought. Suddenly, her lips stretched into a grin.
“Love will find its way,” she hoarsely stated.
The hut was silent for a moment, and then Steve reached into his pocket to take out a folded bill which he placed in a glass on the floor bes
ide the old woman. She smiled and stuffed it in her pocket.
As they got up to go, she lifted a wrinkled finger to wave it at Maria.
“You been under the spell of someone who would use you and deceive you, girl. Beware!”
With these ominous words ringing in Maria’s mind, Steve led out of the hut. Neither of them spoke. They went back to the boat where the same man was waiting for them. After they stepped on board and sat down, the man pushed off to once again traverse the narrow outlet.
Maria could not get the witch woman’s last words out of mind. Could she have been referring to Steve? She glanced at him, but the man was staring forward with a forbidding look on his face. Was he angered by the old woman’s last words? Were they more revealing than he would have liked?
A new thought came into Maria’s mind. The witch’s warning might have been in reference to Marla. Her roommate was certainly manipulative. Why hadn’t she answered the phone? For that matter, why had she turned off the answering machine and her voice mail? Marla had given her the impression that she would be there to talk with her about the situation in New Orleans. If Maria had the slightest idea that her friend was going to break off all contact with her, she never would have agreed to do this favor for her.
As they pushed back out into the waters of the Mississippi, the sudden brightness of the starlight on the ripples was astounding compared with the gloom of the small bayou. They made better time now that their way was no longer obstructed by vines and curves. On this trip, the current was with them.
After a few minutes, Maria looked at Steve and said, “You told her what to say; didn’t you?”
He looked at her with a disgusted expression and replied, “All I did was to pay this man behind us for a voodoo cruise. As far as I know, he doesn’t even know who we are.”
“Then, how could she have known so much about us?”
“Really, Maria. Her words were only generalizations that could fit almost anything.”
“But what about her warning that I should beware of someone who would deceive me and use me?”
“Can you honestly believe that I would pay her to say that? I assume, of course, that you think she was referring to me.”
“I don’t know. Was she?”
“If you think you should be afraid, you’re right. I don’t like to be deceived.”
“But I was the one that is supposed to have been deceived.”
“Think what you want.”
Maria decided to let the issue lie at that. It would be foolish to provoke the man into saying more things she did not want to hear.
As they moved on down the river for a while, Steve pointed to a brightly lighted structure set high on the right bank in front of them and said, “That’s our house.”
Maria looked up and replied, “The house? It’s odd, but I thought all of the old Southern plantations had a name, but I’ve never heard you mention one for you home.”
“That’s because it doesn’t have one, and, by the way, it was never a plantation. The family interest has always been in shellfish.”
“Have you thought about giving it a name?”
“No. Outsider’s call it the DuPont Estate. That’s the way it’s always been. If my progenitors couldn’t come up with anything to suit them, I don’t see why I should bother.”
“Maybe your brother will think of something.”
“Maybe he will.”
Shortly after that, the boat docked. Steve saw Maria safely back to her room, and they exchanged casual goodnights. So much more might have been said, but neither party wanted to be the first to speak. It had been a rather odd evening that had left them both feeling thoughtful.
CHAPTER 9
It had been almost a week since she arrived in New Orleans, and Maria still had received no word from Tienne DuPont or message about his date of arrival. She could not help thinking about his flagrant neglect of his fiancée. This disinterest did not coincide with Marla’s impression of a man who was ardently in love with her. The prearranged marriage was now only two days away. It seemed altogether possible that Tienne had as little affection for Marla as she had for him.
Maria wondered what would happen if he did not show up for the wedding. Would Steve release her then or try to make her patch things up with his brother? What a complication that could present! If she could only speak to Marla, she might be able to get her friend to settle this all by herself.
When it was all over and the truth was out in the open, Maria could only guess what Steve’s attitude toward her would be. After all of the lies she had told him, she could not imagine that he would want to see her any more. The deceit would stand as an everlasting point of embarrassment between them.
No good could possibly come of the masquerade. Maria would go home to Illinois and never see Steve again. She would not even be worthy enough to be considered on a plane with his brother’s cast off fiancée.
All of these thoughts had passed through Maria’s mind while she had been dressing. Since it was Sunday, she had put on a tan skirt suit since she did not know if Steve intended to take her to church or not. It would be best to be prepared.
Most of the Creole people were Roman Catholic as far as she knew. That would not be a problem for her. She wondered if Marla and Tienne had ever discussed this. Her roommate was Lutheran. It might have presented an alteration in their plans.
When Maria went downstairs, Steve was waiting for her in the dining room. A variety of dishes had been laid out in covered chafing dishes as usual. Maria took what she wanted and sat down at the table. Apparently, Steve had already eaten, for he only read his newspaper while she ate her breakfast. His silence disturbed her.
Between mouthfuls, Maria said, “Are you still mad at me?”
The man lowered his newspaper enough to regard her over the top of the pages.
“Would it matter if I was?” he asked.
“Of course. You must know it would.”
“Then, I’ll ask you another question. Do you intend to try to run away again?”
“If I was, I would be a fool to tell you.”
“You are a fool if that’s what you plan to do. There is no conceivable way you could get away from me. I would follow you wherever you went and bring you back here, and believe me, Maria, I would not be happy.”
“I know that, but you should remember one thing; no matter what happens, I never wanted to hurt you or to make you mad.”
“I’ve noticed that people often do things with lack of consideration for anyone but themselves. It’s a sad comment on the human condition, but one that I fully understand and am forced to accept. That doesn’t mean that I’ll overlook anything you might happen to do. It means that I’ve experienced disappointment before, and I’ve learned how to deal with it effectively. I could have dealt out a much harsher punishment to you last night than to have simply scared you for a short while.”
“It was enough,” Maria assured him. “I’ve learned my lesson.”
“Tell me exactly what you’ve learned.”
“Not to cross you . . . if I can help it. I have no plans to leave here without your consent.”
“Good. By the way, I have forgiven you, Maria, but you’d better be able to help it if any more bright ideas come into your head.”
Instead of replying, Maria concentrated fully on her breakfast. When she glanced up again, she noticed that Steve had returned his attention to his paper.
When she was done eating, she placed her napkin on the table and stood up. The man folded his paper before he put it down.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked.
“To church?”
“No, my dear. We’ll get there soon enough. I thought you might enjoy a ride through the countryside on such an invitin’ day.”
“I would like that. I haven’t gotten to see much outside of the French Quarter.”
“All right. Let’s go.”
This time, Steve did not call for the use of the limousine and drive
r. He walked with Maria to the garage and directed her to get into that same vehicle which she had used to affect her escape. It felt odd to be in it again, but when Steve took off the convertible roof, the atmosphere changed. It was a surprisingly warm day, perfect for a ride in the open air.
He drove along the winding back roads at a leisurely pace, pointing out objects of interest and historical significance as they drove. The soft spring-like quality of the air felt delightful to Maria as it rushed through her hair. The tangles did not bother her. They could be brushed out later. All that mattered was that she was there with Steve, listening to him talk and enjoying the land he so obviously loved.
They stopped a few times to look over particular places. When this happened, they spoke to each other in calm and easy conversation. The anxiety, temporarily at least, had been banished.
Around noon, Steve pulled into the parking lot of a distinguished-looking, old restaurant. The building appeared to be a restored mansion of earlier years. Inside, a maitre d’ escorted them to a well-appointed table that overlooked the back garden.
Maria looked at the menu, only to discover it was all in French. The other diners spoke in discreetly low tones.
“Would you like me to order for you?” Steve asked, noting her perplexity.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to.”
“Is there anything in particular you would like?”
“I’ll leave it up to you. I’m not a picky eater, and I don’t have any allergies.”
In French, Steve quickly gave their order to the waiter who had been standing discreetly to his side. The man bowed slightly as he took their menus, and then left.
“How do you like Louisiana now?” Steve asked.
“The more I see of it, the more I like it.”
“Is there special thing that impresses you?”
“As a matter of fact, there is. I hope you won’t think I’m being patronizing or anything, but it’s your house and property.”
“That must be induced by your feelin of being mistress of it all before long.”
