by catt dahman
Frank’s jaw dropped. The child had spoken Spanish, and then Greek, and then German effortlessly. Frank narrowed his eyes and concentrated, “Statera. Quisque mundans…transeundum est. Sed arma sunt…ummm…causae. Longum sumus…mundatio necessaria.” He repeated Clovis’s words in Latin, as well as he could, faltering in places and unsure if he used the correct tense. Frank was testing Clovis to see if the child were repeating something he had heard and was a savant, or if he really could answer in a foreign language.
“Quisque debet transire,” Clovis said. Everyone must pass.
“Is it you? Are you the one directing this?” Frank asked. Abagail’s ramblings about curses suddenly made sense in a strange way.
Ghislaine had already gotten up and left. Her brother scared her now that he was talking a lot and in some gibberish language, saying words she didn’t understand. It didn’t sound at all like Clovis. But he had acted odd since the hurricane hit them.
“Ego sum. Nos Sumus plures. Nos Sumus. Ego sum nos.” Clovis finished, lowering his hands and arms. He had said, “I am. We are many. We are. I am we.”
It was a riddle. But Frank understood. Abagail would understand. It was straight out of the bayou and tradition of voodoo and magic. Something had taken over Clovis, and while it wasn’t evil, as most people defined evil, it was all about cleansing for the greater good, and that meant everyone had to die.
Frank needed two more pieces of this puzzle, “Eating humans desecrated the balance.”
“Oui. Je suis. Nous sommes nombreux. Nous sommes. Je suis nous.”
He said yes and then repeated the ominous statement.
Frank asked one more question, “What is your name?”
Clovis giggled, his green eyes shining brightly as he enjoyed a moment of mirth, “Does it matter so much? Je suis le plus proper”
I am the cleaner.
Frank shivered all over.
Chapter Thirteen: Clovis
Frank felt as if he were in a fog. Clovis, or whatever was inside of the boy, had played with him for sport, enjoying the little palaver that meant nothing. Against his will, Frank drew his knife up and slid it across his own neck. It bled but not as dramatically as Clovis might have desired because Frank fought the attack.
He slapped at the door, opened it, and half fell inside the back room where Candy Lynn was. She awoke and made a sound of dismay as she grabbed a pillowcase to hold against Frank’s neck. He wouldn’t come all the way inside, said he couldn’t because he was finished and was glad of it. He already had decided before he couldn’t go on; Clovis knew that somehow.
Struggling, Frank repeated the ominous phrase in English, gurgling parts of the words, so unfortunately, Candy Lynn didn’t get them all. When he managed to say them correctly, it was in French, and Candy Lynn only knew a little of that language, but she was smart and had the ability to remember most anything she heard. She tried to make sense of what he said.
“Frank, Dad, please. Let me figure out what to do for you. I don’t want to lose you.” He was always kind to her when she lived in his home and was married to Landry. Frank was a good man.
He waved her away and stumbled again out to the deck.
It was getting impossible to resist whatever was within Clovis.
Candy Lynn stood in the doorway, scared and shaking. She watched as Frank crawled and lurched to the railing. His eyes were not so much fearful as they were too knowing, and Candy Lynn knew he had seen and knew too much; it was driving him to full despair.
As he crawled over the railing, she wanted to scream for help or save him, but she only got part of the way outside when her head was drawn away and up where she saw Clovis. He always sat alone, drooling and refusing to say anything; he was strange, and many thought him stupid, but Candy Lynn saw he looked different right then. His eyes were clear and malevolent, fixed upon Frank with concentration and fearsome intelligence. Her blood ran cold as she saw him.
She stepped back, unseen.
Frank fell into the water and bobbed, his neck bleeding. He wanted to die of blood loss and shock before Clovis forced him over the railing.
Go; go over the rail. Swim, and enjoy the water. It feels so nice. Let the Baka do their duty and have another soul. Swim, Frank. He heard it almost as a song or an order in his head, and he saw Emeline over and over, burned up, her pretty fingers black sticks. He saw Remy dying. He saw Jules burn alive. Images tortured him, and he knew Clovis put them in his head and encouraged him to go into the water.
He fought it as long as he could for a few minutes and then tried to die on his own, but Clovis would have the sharks fed.
The first bite was his leg, and he screamed, but it was as he was pulled under, and the sound was lost. Another shark took his shoulder, and he couldn’t tread anymore; his arm was attached by a thin muscle and drifted until a creature snapped it up, white, sharp teeth glowing in the light. He was able to get small breaths when he managed to get above the water. He sank deeper when one of the fish bit into his hip and thigh, shook his head hard, and tore the appendage loose.
They were eating him alive, and Frank felt agonized beyond mere screams. His mind whirled with the pain. Underwater, he couldn’t see them until they were right there next to him; one bit off his dangling foot, and the pain multiplied. He screamed, inhaling water, causing his body to begin to suffocate.
It would have been wonderful to die easily right then, but he sucked at the water, tried to breath, and thrashed with pain. Before they could bite again, the blood loss sent him into shock, and he fell unconscious.
It wasn’t an easy death. But it was finished.
On the high deck, Clovis watched the carnage, and then his eyes went dull again, and he stared into nothingness. A line of drool dripped down to his shirt.
Candy Lynn couldn’t see anything from where she stood. She went back to bed, grabbed a pillow, and squeezed it as she cried for Frank. She felt more alone than ever now.
At breakfast, Beau, Marie, and Candy Lynn all had red, swollen eyes from crying about Frank since Candy Lynn told them about his suicide. It was difficult to tell them the news, and it seemed all too often that someone was giving out bad news. As soon as they were alone, she planned to tell them the rest.
“Why you pickin’ at dat food?” Amadee asked Virgil.
Virgil, like most of the others, ate vegetables and canned fruit.
“He’s probably sad about losing another person,” Leonie said, trying to cover up the reason.
“We done lost a bunch. No use to cry over dat what you can’t do a thing about. We in a bad situation here, we is, but we Audettes will make it. Candy Lynn, why you pickin’, too? Dat is some good food you not eating.”
“No appetite,” she said. Beau met her eyes.
“What de hell up wit these young people not for a eatin’? All a braillard.”
“No one is whiney. We had more losses,” Candy Lynn frowned.
“Well, we’se waiting it out, and den we go back and fix up the place and start over, and it be okay. We get you and de boys married up, and Leonie can have de babies, and we rebuild the Audettes.”
“Just like that?” Virgil asked, disgusted.
“Just like dat. We been through de punition and suffered, and now we rebuild and go about de family traditions.”
“We’ve had enough family tradition,” Virgil got up from the table and stormed out.
“Get out. All of you, now. Go do something else. Go. Get out. Leonie, you stay here,” Amadee yelled, “Ghislaine, you stays.”
Marie was only too happy to leave and followed Virgil out back. Candy Lynn, Toby, and Beau went along. Buford, muttering, went to the front deck, swearing at the listing of the houseboat. The hull was damaged, and the boat was canting to one side a little. The small boat was long gone, sunk in the storm or by the fish.
Amadee glared, “Have I not provided de shelter and food for de people with me? And I helped to save some and been working?”
“Yes,” Leo
nie said.
“Ghislaine, you been working some hard to help wit the food. Do you have de problems with our family and de ways of de Audettes?”
Ghislaine slyly tilted her head, “I don’t mind the work, Daddy.”
“You has de problem with de meat?”
“No, I ate my breakfast.”
“You loyal to yer daddy?”
“Yessir.”
“Okay, You can go. See what Clovis doing and take him de food. Watch for de boats.”
Ghislaine scurried out.
Leonie knew it was her turn.
“Leonie, what ya think Virgil gots issues about?”
“He’s never liked the tradition and doesn’t eat the meat. We’re just all tired and in need of a clean place and things we don’t have. We’ve been out here so long….”
“You saying I ain’t provided?”
“No, Amadee. You have. I mean….”
“You mean you think you do better with some help? Some other people?”
Leonie gulped, “No, Honey, I’m just tired is all. The flood and it keep storming. It looks like another is coming up.” She struggled to find a safe way out of this.
“Oh, yes, it is a bad one, and I still provide. I ain’t tossed that woman out yet, and she already roasted. We gon’ render her.”
“We have so much….”
Amadee slammed a big hand on the table like a canned ham hitting the Formica. “You be tellin’ me how de tradition go? You not eatin’ de meat, and them young people ain’t. Makes me wonder. What is Virgil been saying?”
“Nothing. He isn’t saying a thing. He’s been quiet.”
“I think you don’t have de iron claw on him making him for to behave. Dat worry me, Leonie. Why he not been behaving better?”
“He’s just tired and been cooped up, too.”
“You not on about his home training. You failing, woman.”
“I am doing all I can,” Leonie snapped. The instant she said it, having used a tone that Amadee called sass; she regretted it, but it was out now.
Leonie never saw the backhand, but she felt the impact across her cheek.
“You have de fresh mouth, you do. I am de king here, and dat is a fact,” Amadee roared. He punched Leonie so the breath wheezed out of her and followed it with a punch to her eye and then one to her nose. She curled up on the floor, blood from her nose pouring out around her. Amadee kicked her in the side with a boot.
The thud of her falling, the punches, Leonie’s cries, and the movements were loud. Everyone ran in from both ends of the boat. Virgil saw his mother curled up, bleeding, with handprints, and swelling on her face, and he lost his temper, going blind, almost, with rage.
Before Amadee knew it, Virgil sank several punches into Amadee’s face. Amadee fought back, and in the close quarters, there was a fistfight. Buford pushed Virgil during the fight, and Toby punched Buford in the eye. The fight ended abruptly as Buford pulled a huge skinning knife and brandished it.
“Wanna go a few rounds, nigger?”
“Drop the knife, and I will, cracker.”
“Toby, let it go,” Beau said. He felt his best friend was about to be injured or killed.
Virgil glared, “Don’t you ever hit my mama again, or I’ll kill you.”
“I think I want you all off my boat. Go swimming,” Amadee sneered, “you all just git offa my boat and be done ‘ere. I don’ care if der is fish inna de water. Get off my boat.”
“Make us,” Toby said.
Candy Lynn spoke, “Now, Daddy, please don’t be so mad. It upsets me awfully. I’ll talk to them and get them to behave. Leave ‘em be…for me?” She used her sweetest voice and big girlish eyes to beg. It always had worked, and it worked this time although she felt dirty and disgusted inside. Her father was a monster she was forced to beg favors from.
“I…What dis about, Candy Lynn?”
She sighed, “You’re upsetting me. You can’na toss people out, Daddy. I’m so upset I could just cry my eyes outta my head now,” she said as she sniffled.
Amadee stopped glaring at once, “Oh, Candy Lynn, angel girl. I done losted my temper. I no serious about people leaving dis ‘ere boat. I just a mouthing.”
“Okay. That makes me happier,” Candy Lynn said, “please don’t be mean to Mama Leonie, okay?” she begged again with big eyes.
“Okay, Candy girl.” He said; he looked like a little boy being chastised. “I will try to be more understanding. I just been so stressed, too. We all be fine now. Just a little tussle.”
Candy Lynn turned to Buford, “Put that knife away right, now.”
Amadee motioned for the young man to do as asked.
Candy Lynn waited until her friends had Leonie up so she could be checked and cared for, and they retreated as Buford and Amadee went to the front deck as they always did, “Dear, God, this is gettin’ worse,” she said as she helped Leonie along.
“He was going to kill Toby. Thank you, Candy Lynn,” Beau said, “I don’t understand what’s going on. I lost my father, and Amadee doesn’t care. He’s a cannibal and would toss us out…just that easy. Or he’d kill Toby.”
“Did you hear what he called me?”
Marie patted his arm, “It’s a word that hurts, Toby, but it was his word and his thought, and so let it roll off. His opinion doesn’t matter.”
“You’d think a cannibal and a murderer would do something besides name-call. It seems pretty silly to me,” Toby said. His feelings were hurt besides having been threatened with a knife.
“You okay, Virgil? Leonie?”
Leonie nodded at Marie, “Amadee was so angry. He says I’m not keeping him in line and making him behave right; that’s right according to Amadee. That’s why he’s so angry. Virgil and I are walking a thin line, I fear.”
Candy Lynn hated to add fuel to the fire, but she explained what she saw the night before. She tried hard to make it clear how Clovis had frightened her and how odd he looked, “I can’t say he’s anything other than what he’s always been, but it was horrible. He scared me.”
“What does it mean?” Toby asked.
“Look,” Marie said, “there was a hurricane. Normal for our area, but it was a bad one. The worst I bet in history. Then we find, of all things, sharks in the waters. That isn’t normal. But even with it, what are the chances that sharks, that don’t hunt in packs, suddenly are in a pack of five and happen to stalk us?”
“And the snakes,” Beau added.
“Right. All that is possible, but all at once? And Clovis was there, and he didn’t get into the water but seemed…focused then. He’s always up there watching, and he’s seen everything that’s gone on.”
“He looked…possessed,” Candy Lynn said, “oh, I hope y’all know French. Daddy Frank said something last night; I don’t know what it means, but I can repeat it; maybe you’ll know.” She concentrated. There were three parts, and she wanted to say them just right.
“Take your time,” Beau said, “relax and take your time remembering. If Dad said it as his last words, then it’s important.”
Remember, Daddy Frank said, “‘Je suis. Nous sommes nombreux. Nous sommes. Je suis nous.’ Also, he told me that eating the flesh was wrong, and then he said, ‘Je suis le plus proper,’” said Candy Lynn.
Maria and Beau looked flummoxed.
“Did I say it all wrong?”
“No, Candy Lynn, I think you probably got every word perfect, but it’s odd,” Marie said, “the first is down right Biblical and is what a demon is thought to say. “We are many or such. Our names are many.”
“Which can mean two different things,” Toby said.
Marie nodded, “And he said it in that order? The three parts?”
“Yes.”
Beau frowned, “Well, the first is from a demon, meaning maybe a demon said such, refusing to give his name but saying he is called many things in various religions and that they are many. But I don’t think we can be sure it’s a demon. It could be an order of a
ngels or whatever they are in other religions.”
Candy Lynn smiled a little, “You have always been smart.”
“Then, he said eating the meat was wrong. And the last is that whoever it was did give a description, if not a name. He said he was a cleaner. What does that mean other than someone is cleaning up all the wickedness?” Toby suggested.
“Daddy wasn’t wicked. Neither was Remy or Nita,” Marie noted.
“But wouldn’t cleaning, said that way, imply everyone and everything? I mean it wasn’t about cleaning the wicked away or cleaning out cannibals, no offense, Candy Lynn and Virg, but yanno….”
“It’s okay,” Virgil said.
“Clovis,” Leonie said, finally able to remove the rag from her nose now that it had stopped pouring blood so she could pay attention more. Her eye was swollen and turning colors, her nose was broken, her ribs throbbed, and her entire face felt hot and bruised badly. Amadee might have broken several bones this time.
But more than her body, she worried about Virgil and their lives. Amadee was way out of control and wanted to render that burned up woman. It made Leonie sick. And she was aware that her second born son was as crazy and evil as her stepfather had been but was even more deadly because he was part of the Audette tradition, deep within his soul.
He was foreign to her.
How Candy Lynn could be the only Audette to have morals was as strange as Leonie having one child with morals. Both first born. Maybe the good was used up in first borns.
“It was like Clovis enjoyed Daddy Frank dying. It was horrible.”
“Or like Clovis caused it? That boy ain’t right, Candy Lynn and we know that,” Leonie said, “I know he’s your brother….”
“That night….” Candy Lynn began.
Jenny Audette was huge with Clovis ready for birth at any day, her ankles and belly swollen, her temper short, and her body exhausted. Candy Lynn was ten, Lougenia was four, Tammany was almost two; Amadee was in a foul mood.
The dinner was bland, he had only three daughters to show for his marriage, and this new baby was likely to be another damned girl (although he did feel a kindness and preference for Candy Lynn who was sweet and always happy), and for six years, Jenny had been barren. Amadee felt less than manly to have only girl children and not to have impregnated his wife six years solid.
