by G. F. Frost
“Now, you’re right again,” she said as if they could hear her.
Placing the framed picture on the floor beside her, she began to survey the contents of the ancient containers once more. Many of the pieces of clothing were tattered and faded, but a few were surprisingly fresh and new looking. She folded each piece carefully and stacked them neatly on the floor. At the very bottom of one of the oldest trunks lay a small ebony box. It had an oriental look about it. It still shone with the lacquer of years ago and had insets of ivory and mother of pearl. There was a tiny lock on its front.
Massey tried to pull open the latch and lock, but it would not budge. Looking around the attic, she found nothing to help her pry the small box open. Taking the picture and box with her into the kitchen, Massey took a small pair of scissors from the drawer and began to work at the lock. It took several minutes, but eventually the rusted metal gave way and the latch sprung back. She gasped.
Once the pretty parcel was open, Massey realized that a small treasure lay inside. There were beautiful pearl and stone earrings, several necklaces, and a locket. The gold of the locket still shone in the afternoon light of the kitchen. It easily sprang open as she pinched its catch. Inside was a lock of dark hair and on one side was picture of Joseph Duseau. In this picture, he sat stoically in his proper dark suit and high collar with what seemed to be a doctor’s medical bag upon his lap. Massey immediately recognized the mantel of the parlor fireplace behind him.
A small sheet of folded paper was tucked away in the opposite side of the locket. Massey gingerly unfolded the small sheet and began to read:
Here is a lock of my hair, my love. I wish for you to keep it near your heart to remind you that you are always and forever in my mine.
Joseph
A tear rolled down Massey’s cheek. She felt she had just met a couple deeply in love.
Silly, old sentimental girl! she thought.
She picked up the picture and locket and carried them into the parlor. She stood the picture on the mantel and draped the locket over one corner of the frame.
“I think you’ll feel more at home here,” Massey said aloud as she tapped on the glass.
* * * *
The sun was still above the oaks as Massey pulled open the scratchy and rusty gate to the cemetery. She began to walk from headstone to headstone kneeling before each one to better read the names. All but a few were Duseaus. After searching carefully and thoroughly through all the stones, she stopped.
“Where are they?” she asked.
At that very moment, a small limb from a tree near the rear corner of the cemetery fell loudly to the ground. Massey walked to the limb and lifted it from the ground throwing it over the fence into the yard. As she did, her foot caught the edge of something hard. When she looked down, she noticed the corner of a stone block at her feet. Falling to her knees, she began to clear the vines and leaves away. To her utter amazement lay a very large marble headstone and yet another just beside it. Hurriedly, she threw the debris from the second and began to read:
Doctor Joseph Fontaine Duseau
Born April 5, 1847
Died January 9, 1878
Loving and Devoted Husband
Marie Batiste Duseau
Born Sept. 2, 1852
Died January 9, 1878
Loving and Devoted Wife
Massey sat forever gazing down at the fallen stones. She felt sadness as she had never felt before. She noticed the date of their deaths. They had died on the same day!
What happened? Had there been a terrible accident on the farm? Had there been a carriage or wagon accident?
Her mind was spinning with questions. As darkness approached, Massey made her way back to the house. Theo was just driving up as she walked onto the veranda. She began to sob.
“How’s my girl, this evening?” Theo called on his way to the house. Suddenly he noticed Massey’s tears. She grabbed her husband and hugged him tightly.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” Theo asked as he pulled away from her and looked into her face.
“Oh, I’m being silly, honey. I must be going through menopause,” she blurted as she wiped her eyes and walked into the house. Theo followed closely. Massey was never one to fall into tears very often. He didn’t understand.
Over dinner, Massey told Theo about the trunk, the pictures, and the locket, about finding the graves and the note. She told him that an overwhelming sadness came over her when she read the note and then when she realized that they had both died on the same day. Theo theorized that they had both contracted an illness at the same time, as often happened then, and most probably expired a day or two apart and were buried on the same day. He said that all the emotions Massey was feeling were from reading the note and headstones. Massey agreed.
Theo was so rational and could always make Massey feel better. That night, in front of the television, she laid her head in his lap while he stroked her hair. She soon forgot the sadness of the day.
Chapter Four
That night the dreams were more real and bothersome than before. The faces became clearer. >From the darkness of a dream came a misty veil, and behind the veil two figures drew nearer. As they reached the gauzy veil, the imprints of their faces became evident, but not all of their features were visible. It was a man and a woman walking side by side towards her, but as soon as their faces forced their way into the veil, they disappeared, and Massey awoke drenched once more in sweat. She sat up in bed trembling.
What does it mean? Why am I having these nightmares?
Theo stirred, and she reached for the blanket to cover him. He moaned. Massey slowly rose from the bed and quietly tiptoed into the bathroom for a drink of water. Her hands were trembling. An odd thought occurred to her as she splashed cool water in her face. Looking into the mirror, she thought about Joseph and Marie. Could they be the couple in her dreams? She shook her head.
“I must get a grip,” Massey whispered to herself.
Making her way back to the bed, she couldn’t help but glance toward the mirror. All was dark. As she climbed into the large soft bed, she rolled towards Theo. He felt warm and strong under the blanket. She closed her eyes and fell asleep. No more dreams that night.
* * * *
The morning sunshine always brought a new perspective on Massey’s world. She had an early shower and got ready for a trip into New Orleans. She had made plans to have lunch with Theo, but she also wanted to visit the library and the local historical society. She had to find out more about the history of their home and its families, and about Joseph and Marie in particular.
As Massey locked the front door, a faint sound came from inside the house. It sounded like a voice. She pulled the key from the lock and listened. It was a woman’s voice, small and light, singing a gentle song. Massey couldn’t make out the tune. It sounded old and simple, but unfamiliar. She placed the key back into the lock and opened the door. The voice was a bit louder. It sounded as if it were coming from upstairs. There was no radio anywhere on the second floor, but she wondered if she had somehow left on a television. She made her way up the stairs.
Once she stepped onto the landing, she noticed that the singing was coming from her bedroom.
“I don’t remember leaving the TV on,” she said to herself.
As she stepped into the room, the sound stopped. Massey looked at the television over the fireplace. It was off. She listened carefully, but she heard nothing more. Shaking her head, she walked to the bedroom door. She couldn’t help but glance at the long mirror in the corner as she passed. There was no face. She laughed at herself.
The drive into the city was pleasant. The fall winds were blowing and the leaves were gold and orange in the sunlight. Massey opened the windows of the car and enjoyed the fresh air. Cool air was a much-coveted luxury in south Louisiana. The air was crisp and fresh, and the sunshine lifted her spirits. Traffic was minimal, so the drive into New Orleans was pleasant. She shoved her homemade CD into the car stereo and
sang along as she drove. Before she knew it, she was in the city.
Theo was waiting at the Court of the Two Sisters. The day was perfect for dining on the patio. The lunch or “brunch” buffet suited them perfectly. The jazz music was a lovely added touch to the day. Massey was so happy she decided to spend the day in the city.
After the meal, the two of them sat for a while and listened to the music. Theo held Massey’s hand over the white linen tablecloth. It was a good day.
When Theo paid the tab and headed back to work, Massey decided to shop a while in the Quarter before beginning her research. She never got tired of this city. The history and architecture, the restaurants and people, the lazy city, the Big Easy, it was her favorite city in the States. After shopping, Massey sat on a bench near Jackson Square to watch people, one of her favorite things to do. She watched the horses as they pulled the decorated carriages down Decatur. She glanced around at the top of the buildings admiring the ironwork, and wondered about the people who had lived there.
The Louisiana Historical Society wasn’t too far away, and the lady in charge of the archives was as accommodating as anyone could be. She spent much time pulling all the newspapers and records of deeds, births, and deaths that she could find. Massey copied everything that pertained to the Duseau family, but couldn’t find anything more than statistics. Seeing the disappointment on Massey’s face, the archivist made a suggestion.
“Tulane archives may have what you’re looking for if we don’t,” she said as she lined the books into a cart.
“Great idea,” Massey replied. “I think I’ll check it out too. Thank you so much for your help. You were great.”
Massey gathered all the copies and headed for Tulane. She hoped that there would be something there to give a more detailed story of the life of the Duseaus and her home.
Everyone at Tulane was helpful and friendly. She told the workers about buying Lovesong House and they seemed anxious to help her find out as much as possible about its history. Book after book heaped in front of her. Old papers and musty folders piled up quickly. Massey began to think she had taken on a bit more than she could handle alone.
Many of the books mentioned the later years of the family and their contributions to charities and universities and the city, but there were only a few with pictures of the home and writings about the family itself. Massey copied every entry and used her yellow highlighter to mark anything interesting, but she was still not finding what she came for. Just as she was copying the last page from a newspaper clipping, one of the students approached her with a book: Noted Families of South Louisiana. Massey looked up at the young man.
“What’s this?” she asked as he handed her the book. She thought how kind and young he looked.
“It has a chapter on the Duseau family, ma’am,” the young man replied.
Massey smiled at the student. She noticed the twinkle in his eyes. He was proud of his find. She opened the book and searched its table of contents for the name, and there it was, Duseau.
The Duseau Family
The Duseau family came to South Louisiana as French planters in the early 1800’s. Francis Minoit Duseau sailed from Paris with servants and his belongings to New Orleans. He bought land outside the city of New Orleans where he planted tobacco and cotton. He was a successful planter and entrepreneur for his day. He was well known and respected in both New Orleans and the smaller surrounding communities. In 1843, he married a well-connected lady from Natchez Mississippi, Josephine Grappe. Within two years, a daughter Tattienne was born and later two sons, Pierre and Joseph. Most of Francis’ wealth came through his dealings with the port of New Orleans and his successful and fruitful plantation near Vacherie, Louisiana. He died in 1872 from consumption. Josephine, his wife, soon followed.
Pierre Duseau became a notable attorney in New Orleans and married a lady from France named Monique Lamane. They had four children. Pierre died at the age of 37 aboard a ship on his way to Jamaica to buy land. Monique remarried a few years later and raised her children in New Orleans. Their children remained in the area, many making names for themselves both in politics and community.
Even though the Duseaus owned large farms, the family continued to reside in the city until the marriage of their youngest son Joseph who graduated with a medical degree and practiced as a physician. Joseph received a large parcel of his father’s plantation upon his marriage and built a home known as “Lovesong House” along the River Road. In 1872, Joseph married Marie la Belle Baptiste. She was from a wealthy and well-known Natchitoches family that owned land near New Orleans as well.
The marriage between the two broke many a man’s heart as she was rumored to have been “one of the glories of the South.” Paintings and pictures show Marie to have had the softest features and a beautiful face. Records note that Joseph named Lovesong House after the lovely singing voice of his bride. Being from the best of families, both Joseph and Marie had full formal educations in the States and overseas. The two spent a year in France after their marriage and returned to live in New Orleans until their home was completed in 1874. That same year, Marie gave birth to a son who died soon afterwards. They had no more children and died on the same day in 1878 under mysterious circumstances.
After Joseph’s death, Lovesong House went to Joseph’s beloved sister, Tattienne, who lived there alone until her death in 1931. She was rumored to have been of a very eccentric nature, but she was known also to have had the most memorable parties hosting only the finest families from New York to Mobile. Upon her death, she dedicated a large sum of money to various schools and organizations in New Orleans. From then, the house moved between relatives, but still stands as a great example of southern Italianate architecture today. Most or all of the Duseaus are buried in the family cemetery near Lovesong House on the River Road. The family’s contributions to the growth and advancement of the South were immeasurable.
Massey read the history over again. She was amazed at the story, but wanted to know more. After spending another hour searching for anything else she could find out about the Duseaus, she returned to the desk at the library and questioned a lady standing behind the counter.
“Do you know where I may be able to find more archives on old Louisiana families?” she asked anxiously.
The lady looked over the notes Massey had written and asked her who had helped with the research. Massey pointed out the young boy. After walking over to him and obviously questioning him, the lady returned.
“I don’t think we have much more that will help you here, dear. Have you looked online? You may be able to find out a bit more there,” she said.
Massey hadn’t even thought of that. She nodded and gathered her pages, thanking the lady and waving to the young man as she left the hall.
As she was getting into her car, her cell rang. It was Theo. He asked what she had found and what she was planning for dinner. Massey told him what little she had learned and threw a few suggestions at him for their dinner. He told her that he’d pick them up something good on the way so that she could relax and go over her notes that evening. He told her that he loved her as always and to drive safely. She smiled as she hung up.
Theo is one of a kind, she thought as she fastened her seat belt.
All the way home, Massey pictured the life of Joseph and Marie, but she kept going back to their deaths. “Under suspicious circumstances” kept running through her head. Theo was wrong. They didn’t die of an illness. Something tragic must have happened. Massey decided that she would take the lady’s advice and get online to do more research. She had to know now.
The driveway was dark as she pulled in. She had forgotten to leave any lights on when she left, and the house looked a bit foreboding as she pulled up to it. Just as her headlights beamed onto the house, Massey noticed a shadow in her bedroom window. She stopped the car and looked again. There was just enough light outside to see a dark shape move past the glass. Massey gasped. Her heart began to race.
Kn
owing Theo was on his way, she decided to remain in the car until he came home. If someone was in the house, she knew it would not be a good idea to enter alone. She watched and watched, but the shadow never crossed in front of the window again. She called Theo.
“I’m almost home, honey. Are you sure your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you? Should I call the sheriff?” he asked. His voice was reassuring to Massey.
“Well, I don’t know,” she said, looking once more at the window.
Before she could hang up the phone, the lights from Theo’s truck beamed down the drive. She felt her heartbeat slow and stepped out of the car. Theo was looking up at the second floor of the house as he got out of the truck.
“Just get back in your car, honey, and I’ll check everything,” he said calmly.
“I don’t want you to go in alone,” Massey replied.
Theo lightly pushed her shoulder towards the vehicle, and she sat back down. Massey watched as Theo walked around the house and barn. He stepped onto the long veranda and pulled his keys from his pocket. Unlocking the door, he stepped into the house and spoke.
“Hello, hello, anyone there?” Theo asked loudly as he flipped on the light switches. The lights of the veranda and the foyer glowed. Massey watched carefully. After just a couple of minutes inside, he stepped onto the porch and motioned for her. Massey got out of the car and walked slowly inside.
“Not a soul in sight.” Theo put his arm around her and kissed her forehead.
Massey felt embarrassed.
“I’m sorry. I could have sworn that someone was walking in our room, really.”
“You’ve just got a lot on your mind, and it is a bit creepy driving up here when the lights are off. It’s okay. Oh, shit! There’s food in the car!” Theo said as he quickly stepped out the door again.
Massey set the table and made lemonade as Theo unpacked the seafood feast he had bought.
“Um, looks and smells yummy,” she said as they sat down at the table.
