Reclamation

by Sophie L Osborne

  She ended the call, after having an in-depth conversation with her assistant, Geeta about a project that opened for bidding. She was confident that they were going to win the bid, and directed her team to get started on it at once.

  She lingered longer along the pea-gravel walking path that lead to the side door of the kitchen. She could see Avery and Jessie, faintly through the glass door; they were conversing – neither of them, smiling.

  There was something about Jessie that wasn’t right – he didn’t seem, normal. Jessie was composed and stoic, but, yet like his brother, Avery, seemed to possess a sense of gentleness to his soul. He was like a portrait, a statue – some inanimate object that possessed the ability to walk, talk, and move. There was something about Jessie that troubled her – Jessie did not appear to be like anyone else she had ever met.

  His eyes seemed to have in them, a deep sense of knowing. When they spoke earlier, she felt as though he saw through and through her soul; all the years of strife, success, the ups, downs, and bends that eventually brought her in their presence that evening.

  Maybe, what she saw was the afterglow of having massive amounts of wealth – he didn’t have to worry about keeping his company afloat like she did, nor did he have to worry about getting laid off, or, about living pay check to pay check. Maybe the pangs of daily suffering had no bearing on, his kind – maybe he was able to rise to another realm of being, and thinking because of the absence of suffering. The lack of common strife made him see the world around him differently, and in reciprocity, he behaved differently.

  When one does not have to waste hours on Earth, bogged down by daily trepidations, it gives one the clairvoyance to move forward, upward, on to a higher level of thinking, and being and therefore, one may very well possess traits that are, out of this world. Simply put, his, or her troubles and struggles are not common to that of ordinary folks, in this world.

  Laurie slipped through the side door from where she previously exited the kitchen, convening once more in the company of Avery and his brother, Jessie.

  What the Devil?

  For the remainder of the evening, curiosity glued the three behind their laptops and tablets as they researched a broad range of paranormal activities that occurred in, Chestnut Filed and surrounding parishes. They searched: haunted houses, haunted trees, phantoms, and spirits. They found information about the large tree, with the strange pod, it was known by two names: silk cotton, or Kapok tree, and it belonged to the Ceiba Pentandra species.

  The research yielded some very compelling information about the tree, and possibly the creature that Laurie had come face to face with. What they had uncovered thus far drove fear deeper into Laurie’s bones. It appeared that the “La Diablesse” or, She Devil, a mythical creature present in French Caribbean, and Creole folklore dwelled under silk cotton trees, where the tree and the creature seem to coexist in a symbiotic relationship. Various searches gave brief descriptions of the creature – all of which had certain traits in common; the sweet scent of perfume – which probably came from the flower pod, long hair, fiery, hateful eyes, a long, white gown covering its legs, which is believed to be hiding hooved feet. Also, the tree was known as The Devil’s Castle, where a demon by the name of Bazil resided and was also believed to have a powerful presence where this tree grew.

  If Avery and Jessie had any doubts, what they found out that night made it apparent that Laurie was neither hallucinating nor making things up for the sake of getting attention. More than ever, the threesome was fired up and burned with curiosity to get to the bottom of what occurred that night at Laurie’s chateau – a haunted chateau? In a strange way, this was a huge turn on for Avery. The most frightening thing was that the more they dug, the more they found out about the, “She Devil” and the tree that housed these demonic entities.

  They agreed that the next steps should be accessing information about the family who dwelled there for generations, inquiring whether they had experienced any type of odd sightings or, paranormal activities while they occupied the residence. Laurie knew exactly where to get that information. If what they were reading had any sort of truth to it, it made her wonder if the woman who’d sold her the home, knew about the dark secrets associated with the forlorn beauty, from the very beginning.

  Laurie questioned, why? Why would Myrna not tell her if the former residents had those types of problems with the home? She was already burdened with anomalies from her past that cost her, her job as a Coast Guard Engineer and she sure as hell didn’t plan on taking on someone else’s demons – literally, especially not when it made her feel and look as though she was plain, blazing, crazy once again!

  Maybe that was the reason for selling such a lovely, two-hundred- year-old chateau at a price point that was significantly below market value. When compared to similar properties in the vicinity, her mini chateau was a fraction of what other comparable homes on the market were priced at. When she began searching for homes in Chestnut Field and environs, the other French style, or chalet style homes were considerably smaller and lacked the age, authenticity, and charm hers boasted of.

  In hindsight, the surprisingly lower price tag on the chateau did make her ask if there were issues like rot to the foundation, or roof, faulty plumbing, termites, or dated electrical wiring. The chateau had none of those problems except for antiquated, fixtures that were worn and rusted – nothing that a good restoration job couldn’t fix.

  Although assuming that the property was haunted, or, the tree housed some sort of demonic entity was purely speculative and highly unlikely, there was a small chance that they were dead on with their assumptions.

  They couldn’t deny that, the coincidences were brutal; the thing Laurie saw fit the exact description of the La Diablesse – her white flowing gown, the perfumed scent, reference to the tree – by name…what they had found out was troublesome and although they wanted to dismiss everything – they were drawn in by curiosity of the unknown.

  Their internet search that evening spanned into the wee hours of the next morning. Laurie and her new accomplice, Avery, had stumbled upon enough evidence indicating that there were some inconsistencies surrounding the chateau’s origin that was worth looking into.

  Later that morning, Avery left to visit the family’s branch office in, Texas where he was scheduled to meet with a group of clients from South America; he wasn’t due to return until later that week.

  Jessie had a mandatory meeting to attend that morning with his team of financial analysts at, JV&A Holdings; a business he started up several years ago with his mother, Anya after he had graduated with his DBA from a highly reputable university.

  There were more opportunities for job tenders that presented themselves to Petro-Val that week. Laurie worked long days and late nights getting proposals ready for potential clients. She didn’t have free time as anticipated, since two of her employees were out sick.

  She hadn’t contacted Myrna as planned but had every intention to do so, as the entire upheaval kept her awake at nights.

  Avery texted her once, and had not been in touch since he had arrived in Texas. She didn’t see Jessie, or Anya during the few days she stayed in his La Bayadere home, and it made her awfully uncomfortable. They’d all left before she had a chance to say hello, and properly introduce herself.

  A Lurid Unearthing

  One week had elapsed after a thorough investigation of the chateau. Detective Bryan Gates had spent the entire week combing through the house, gathering evidence that was possibly linked to the strange items found on that frightful, early morning. There was sufficient DNA from the strand of hair that allowed it to be analyzed together with one of Laurie’s for comparison. The foot-print was examined for any distinct patterns that could have been made on the marble flooring; the results were due back any day.

  As for the house itself, there was no evidence of a break-in or any type of forced entry – as a matter of fact, just as Laurie had described, the window in question was sealed sh
ut by rust, and if opened, would break apart. It was literally impossible for anything – let alone, anyone to pass through the recessed windows because they were also considerably high.

  Laurie was on a mission to get some answers to the questions concerning her chateau, she was still staying at Avery’s and desperately wanted to get back to her home after being away; she didn’t waste another minute getting in touch with Myrna. She reached into a black tote that she depended on judiciously, pulled out a green, paisley printed, wallet and began rummaging through its contents. She habitually tucked away business cards from important contacts in it, but, knowing her practice of filing away anything that was paper in her home office – especially after so long, left her with little hope of having Myrna’s business card.

  She grabbed her tablet that was sitting on the countertop from the previous night, and quickly typed in the name of the company in the search engine, up came the company’s website: Keith Baldwin Realtors. She clicked on the link that took her directly to the website, then scrolled through the homepage and selected the directory tab, where information on Myrna Baldwin, her realtor was nowhere to be found. Laurie decided to call the main number; it rang once, and then there was silence.

  “Baldwin Realty, how may I direct your call?” a mature, female voice greeted her unexpectedly.

  “Yes, does Myrna Baldwin still work at your office? She helped me with purchasing my home a few years ago, and I have some questions for her?”

  “Ma’am, can you hold please.” the woman requested. A few seconds later a voicemail picked up.

  “Hello, you have reached Myrna Baldwin, realtor and sales agent, please leave your message, and I will get back to you – have a peaceful day!” Myrna’s voice mail greeting was every bit as upbeat and chipper as she was in person. Laurie remembered her as being flamboyant, and quite the southern belle; she was very delightful to work with.

  Laurie hung up without leaving a message and had decided to re-dial the number after a few minutes. It was imperative that she spoke with Myrna since she was the only known person who appeared to have pertinent information about the chateau’s past occupants.

  As Laurie recalled, Myrna knew quite a bit about the lavish lifestyle and customary stately dinners the family was well known for hosting. She also mentioned how much pride they took in everything they did. Typically, that kind of information could only be known by those who had some sort of personal connection, or knowledge of the family – unless she’d fabricated the entire story to make the old chateau appear, more appealing, giving it some relevance.

  “Fifteen minutes…I’ll call back in fifteen minutes,” she said, aloud, tapping the watch with her index finger.

  In the meantime, she wandered around the living room and entered through a door that led into the library. There were many pictures of Avery, sprawled out strategically on the wall, depicting snapshots of his life, with family and friends – there were even two with, Matt and his family that appeared to be taken in the early 90s. The photographs on the surrounding walls and fire mantle were evidence that he was no stranger to traveling and had been around the globe – at least a few times.

  There was a glaring photograph that caught Laurie’s attention. In it, was, Avery and a woman – they were, hugging? The background depicted a breathtaking beach scenery, which reflected the mood of the two in the photo. The woman in the picture wore a scanty, black bikini that exposed much of her perky breasts, and the bottom; a thong that did very little to cover her backside. She seemed to be in her mid to late twenties, slender, blonde and quite attractive.

  There were about two other photographs of Avery and this woman. In another, they appeared to be in some African nation where they were photographed with a slightly older gentleman who appeared very much like Jessie. “Very handsome – Justin, or Johannes Vladimir, perhaps?” They were with an indigenous tribe, and judging from their surroundings and attire of the tribesmen, they appeared to be quite primitive.

  Avery and this woman had traveled a lot together; this piqued Laurie’s curiosity about her. Who was she? It was evident that she and Avery were closely connected from the details in the photos; they couldn’t have been taken more than four years ago.

  Her heart sunk. She felt cheap and used at the thought of Avery misleading her. From the short time she knew him, her feelings for him were raging out of control, like an infatuated teen… She even slept with him after knowing him for only a brief period; this was out of character for her especially, at her sensible age. She had crossed the line and knew there was no going back, or changing things.

  She had lived her entire life in a Catholic orphanage and was sick of playing the role of, saint. She wasn’t perfect. The modern woman in her had no regrets about the blatant, lustful, tryst; it reaffirmed that her sexuality was indeed every part of her, being a woman. But, on the other hand, her conscience, who she believed was Catholic, punished her dearly for this deed.

  As she looked at other pictures, there were photographs of Jessie and few others who seemed to be related, by their apparent trademark of being tall statured, pale, and having blacker than black hair.

  “Caroline and Connor, I presume? Gawd, what a gorgeous bunch,” she said, to herself, as she tried to put faces to the names she’d only heard of.

  There were pictures of family vacations to Mount Everest, Rome, and New Zealand – it was evident that the Vladimirs had a passion for experiencing unfamiliar cultures. They appeared to be a very close-knit group, which was an admirable and equally enviable attribute to those who weren’t as fortunate to have the type of bond and support the Vladimirs shared.

  Laurie, couldn’t dismiss the photo of Avery and that woman, it lingered on in her head; were, or are they romantically involved with each other? If so, why did Avery lead her to believe that he wasn’t seeing anyone? Men – oh, how, they’re such deceitful creatures! Laurie often thought that the world would be a better place without them after her brush with misfortune involving Matt, but she didn’t want to judge Avery prematurely.

  After parting ways with someone like Matt, Laurie taught herself to expect the unexpected when it came to men and relationships and most of all; look forward to nothing. She had built her walls up much higher than she’d realized, to the extent where she couldn’t trust anyone relationship-wise. Laurie now struggled with trusting her own keen judgment, because it didn’t seem to help her when it came to sizing up men.

  Among the cascading photographs, there were many awards, certificates, and licensures that hid an entire wall in the library; Avery’s accomplishments were without a doubt, remarkable. Laurie walked over to an adjacent bookshelf that stored older looking books. There were Avery’s yearbooks; kindergarten, elementary, and high school stood beside each other in that order.

  She did a double take, reaching for a familiar hunter green, embellished book, which read: “St. Aquinas Academy.” on the front, in gold embossed, Old English fonts. Her heart raced a mile upon seeing the familiar bounded pages cloaked in that signature hunter green, leather cover. Schubert’s “Serenade” played, while she flipped through the pages nervously, looking at the pictures of the smiling faces; boys and girls, some missing teeth, and others with the goofiest haircuts that were signature of the early 1980’s. She spotted a photo circled with a blue highlighter, with the caption beneath that read: “Gallagher, Mark. A”.

  Upon closer scrutiny of the photograph, Laurie thought that the young face seemed very familiar…too familiar. It was a slightly, older version of little Mark who she attended kindergarten with! Could it be?! Was this her long-lost Mark, who just vanished without warning? Gallagher, Mark. A…why was this the only photograph circled?

  She looked at the name below the photograph once more, ensuring that the name was not attached to the photo below it – but it wasn’t; “Gallagher, Mark A” was the only photo that was circled with a blue highlighter out of all the photos in the entire book. Laurie set the book down as she found the nearby ottoman
and sunk her body into it. She doubted her very eyes. She laughed while clasping both hands together tightly…

  “No way – no way!!! There is no way that Avery is little Mark from kindergarten!!! Oh – My – God …Does he remember me? Oh. My. God!!! Does the “A” in his middle name stand for, Avery?” she screamed, as her stomach did cartwheels.

  Laurie sprang to her feet, picked up the book, and turned to the section where the photographs of the girls were displayed, and as she scrolled down…

  “De Verteuil, Laurie – Marie,” she said while tracing her shaking fingers over the photograph that depicted her as a child – it was a photograph of her!! The girl with the long, curly, hair and a crimson bow! The photograph teleported her back to that morning; the nuns were preparing kindergarten and elementary school children for photographs at the orphanage, and she was very excited about having her photograph taken for the yearbook. Sister Gardaí, a young nun who instructed at Her Eminence, bought the bow especially for Laurie because she knew Laurie loved the color red.

  Laurie dropped the book – it hit the hardwood floor with a thud. She didn’t know how to compose herself – she literally felt like jumping out of her skin. “Avery is Mark…” she said, as she started bawling, uncontrollably. She was inconsolable and was relieved that no one else was there to see her in such a mess.

  Did he remember her? Could he recall placing flowers in my hair? Could he remember defending me when we got into little tiffs on the playground with other children? Our innocent first kiss – did he remember? Laurie thought, overcome by the entire discovery. Where did he disappear to when he stopped attending school, and why?

  She had so many questions for Avery. She didn’t know how to tell him, they’d met before – some thirty odd years ago! Breaking the news to him was going to be one of the most exhilarating moments in her life. He was someone from her past, whom she was so very fond of, miraculously appearing in her life in the most unimaginable fashion possible. It was mind blowing – riveting, and very profound at this juncture in her life. Pieces of the puzzle that made up parts of her shattered past, that didn’t seem to make sense then, were coming together – slowly and unexpectedly.