BREAKING CURSED BONDS

by Elisabeth Zguta

  Father Eddie nodded, then sadly voiced his latest concerns. “If only it was that simple now. I’m afraid Pierre is troubled by Robert’s sudden marriage, and now poor Rachael.

  “I just came from visiting her in the hospital. They will let Robert take her home tomorrow. Her father wanted her to go back to his home but she insisted on staying with Robert, her husband. I assume you have all heard the news by now.”

  Everyone nodded their heads.

  “Anyway, the doctors have done all kinds of tests. They think being at the house will help her feel better, more comfortable, at least. Your father thinks that she’s sick because of the curse. I am inclined to agree.”

  Emilie could feel Michelle’s temper rising. A second later, she blurted her opinion.

  “Father Eddie, I know that you’re an educated man. How can you keep encouraging Father like this, and let him believe in this curse? These sorts of things just don’t exist. It is physically and spiritually impossible to be cursed.”

  The priest grinned at her remarks, pacifying her. “Ah, Michelle, if we only knew the whole truth. There are many things out there, real things that happen, that can’t be explained away by religion or science, not yet, anyway. I know this all sounds strange, but it’s real. Your family history points that out with every single wife who died before she was forty. After centuries, not one survived long enough to see a grandchild. It doesn’t make sense statistically, but that is the fact, it is real. Yes, it is a curse.

  “Read some of the references to curses straight from the Bible. In the Old Testament, Exodus 20, ‘I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children, on the third and the fourth generations of those who hate Me,’” he quoted.

  “This was a warning about the consequences of summoning other gods and worshiping effigies and false idols. If you don’t want to call this a curse, then don’t. Call it whatever you want. But, Michelle, I see a long, long line of death. To me that is definitely a curse!”

  Just as he finished there was a loud crack, and a thunderous strike hit the house. Michelle jumped.

  “Okay, that was creepy. I forgot about these violent storms,” she said.

  The earsplitting noise brought everyone’s nerves to the edge, and Emilie soaked them all in. The floors vibrated from the thunder, the wood slats rumbled under their feet, and the small trinkets that cluttered the shelves rattled. They all turned to the window when flashes of lightning came into view. The storm surrounded the rectory in a fury. The frenzy persisted as the storm pelted down a stream of heavy rain. One major strike hit, and zap, the electricity went out.

  “Okay, that freaked me out,” Michelle said.

  “Thank goodness for the flame in the fireplace,” Eddie said.

  The blaze in the hearth cast their shadows against the walls as they herded to the middle of the room. The fire popped and snapped, and the rain slapped against the windowpanes in a pounding beat. Together they watched the storm, and Emilie was suddenly aware of an eerie silence.

  “I think we’re in the eye of the storm,” Jeremy said.

  Usually storms didn’t faze her at all, but Emilie felt dread. She soon realized it wasn’t her own fear, every emotion in the room had suddenly surged into her mind. She pushed the feeling away. Remember why we’re here, for Rachael. Get a grip.

  “Father, what can we do to help Rachael get well?” she asked. “There has to be something we can do. What about other ceremonies? Maybe you heard of other possible healing spells during your days in New Orleans?”

  She pulled her hair back, uncomfortable, hot and sticky in the enclosed room. Her mind, tugged into the middle of a war zone. She knew the curse hadn’t been extinguished, she felt it in her deepest core. They had gone through all that work, the travel, dealing with the graves, all for nothing.

  Eddie paced the floor as he shared his meditations aloud.

  “My guess is that she’s cursed because she married Robert before the spell was broken. Simple. Unfortunately, Robert overheard me telling Pierre about your plans the day you left. Robert confronted me, and I warned him the curse was real, and asked him to be patient and to wait until you returned. The next day, your father called with the news about Robert’s elopement. I don’t understand why he did it, it makes no sense. Was he trying to prove it didn’t exist? Why would he bother? Or did he hope it did exist, which is a terrifying possibility.”

  Michelle walked toward the fireplace and warmed her hands, then turned after a moment. “Oh, it makes sense, all right. Robert wants to torment Father. His plan is finally exposed. A couple of months ago I met up with Jackson, and you wouldn’t believe the things he told me about Robert. It seems his admiration for Tom Bennett goes a little too far. Talk about hero worship! Robert has been scheming something with Bennett for quite some time.” Michelle shivered and then hugged herself.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Emilie spat.

  “Sorry, Em, I wanted to when we were in New Orleans, but you seemed preoccupied. I didn’t want to add more stress to your plate. Especially since I had no proof yet.”

  “You should have trusted me.”

  “I do trust you, Emilie. Please forgive me. Right now there are more important issues. Robert wants to take control of the company, all by his lonesome. He’s so blind, and doesn’t see that Bennett is pulling his stings. Damn him. Sorry, Padre.”

  “No problem,” the Reverend assured her.

  “If this is true, and he’s being manipulated by that evil man, then we have to help Robert,” Emilie said. She thought of the deep pain Robert lived in, and knew that Tom Bennett had exploited that for his own purposes. There was nothing about that man that she trusted. “Robert’s not in his right mind. We need to be there for him.”

  “I agree, we should help him. He is your brother, after all,” Father Eddie said.

  Jeremy nodded. “You can help Robert, of course, but first we need to be practical… A life depends on it. Rachael must be the priority. She’s dying, she needs us now, more than anyone else. On my Uncle Thaddeus’s grave, I promised I would finish this. There is no way anyone else is going to die. Let’s see if we can come up with an idea, quickly. This poor girl has no clue what hit her. The sooner we intervene, the better. Time is running out for her.”

  Michelle drew in a deep breath. “I’m still trying to accept all this,” she said. “But if you’re right about it being real then, of course, let’s help her first. But everyone please remember, in the scheme of things, Robert is a grown man. He knows right from wrong. If what you’re saying is true, then he deliberately married Rachael for revenge. Sounds to me like Robert might be beyond our help already.”

  Emilie didn’t expect such harsh words from Michelle, but she knew her sister was right. Jeremy was right, too, no matter how much she wanted to save her brother, Rachael was the true victim here.

  “What if we make the spell again?” Emilie brainstormed. “I’m talking about the old magic potion Miss Boniverre spoke of, that let people enter the spirit world. We could make the drink, and take it, and enter the other side to help Rachael. Father Eddie, what do you think? Is it possible?”

  She watched Eddie as he rubbed his beads, his gaze distant, as if consulting with the other side for advice or permission.

  “I considered that too, Emilie. I honestly think it could work, but think of the risks. Could it possibly kill someone, too? Could this cause another curse to begin?

  “I remember something from my hoodoo friends down in New Orleans. They referred to this kind of ceremony as a divination. It’s like a magical spell to summon the spirit. In this case, we need to go one step further. We need to enter the spirit world, and then see what’s going on so we can get Rachael’s soul back, and hopefully we come back, too. The question is, do we have enough information from the journal to be able to make the same drink used in the ceremony centuries ago? We also have to consider the talisman, the original carved owl and panther effigi
es were destroyed. You burned them. We would need something to create a link to another realm. There are too many unknowns. It would be too dangerous.”

  “I’ll do it,” a strong voice sounded from across the room.

  They all turned and saw Pierre standing in the threshold.

  He joined them near the fire. “I’ll do it, Eddie. I overheard the discussion about the potion, and the ceremony. I have faith in this plan, and we have to save Rachael. If I had only known sooner, but I couldn’t save my wife.

  “I will do this to make things right. Rachael is an innocent in all this. I can save her, and I can free my family from this deadly curse. If I don’t try, I’ll never be able to live with myself. I’d rather die trying than do nothing.”

  “No, Father! You can’t do this; it’s suicide,” Emilie protested. “You heard Father Eddie. We don’t even know if we can bring you back. The drink may kill you, it’s poison. There’s no sense in both you and Rachael dying.”

  Pierre put up his hand, his face stern. “I know what the odds are, and I know what I’m doing, I’m not a fool. This is my destiny, Emilie. Just like you destroyed all the remains and idols, this is my part to play. As the head of the family it’s my duty.

  “Rachael will be at the house tomorrow. We will make the potion and I’ll drink it and set her free before it’s too late. It’s my responsibility as the oldest living de Gourgues to do this to protect our legacy. No more arguments, it is settled.”

  Pierre turned and faced Father Eddie.

  “Eddie, you’re a true friend, and have been faithful to me for years. I would have gone crazy without your support after Bethany died. You were always there for me, and when I found out about the curse, you helped, and gave me the gris-gris bag for protection. I owe you more than I can ever repay. Friend, can you help with this one last thing? What do we need to get this done tomorrow? There’s no time to waste.”

  “I’ll get a list together,” Father Eddie said. “I may have to go to New Orleans to pick up some of the ingredients, so I’ll get moving straight away.”

  “We can get the ingredients, this cassava and yaupon holly, from Mr. Labue,” Pierre said. “He approached me yesterday. He said that he’d had a dream, and he knew that we would be needing some things. He has what we need ready and waiting.”

  The room suddenly overwhelmed Emilie. When will this end? Her entire world was falling apart. Her family, disappearing into the cracks. Even Jeremy couldn’t fix this. It was unbearable to think of her father dying by drinking the old magic. She broke down, tears rolling unrestrained down her cheeks.

  “No, Father, please no. Don’t do this. I sense this won’t end well.”

  “I have to.”

  She lost it. Fear, the most potent of all emotions, pushed Emilie over the edge. It had been a long time since she was completely lost in a clairvoyant outbreak. Unable to catch her breath, she sobbed so fiercely that her body shook. Jeremy wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, while she cried into his chest. Everyone, especially Michelle, worried about her, and all their concern added to her load to bear. It was a vicious cyclone of emotions.

  “Emilie, are you all right? You don’t have to hold back anymore or try to protect me. It’s okay. Let it out,” Michelle said.

  Emilie kept crying, unable to pull herself together.

  “Jeremy, can you take Emilie home?” she heard her father say. “This is too much for her now. We’ll take care of the details. You and Emilie have already been through so much. She must be exhausted.”

  “Good idea. I will, sir.”

  Jeremy guided Emilie to the truck and brought her back to the house. He was careful with her, as if she was a fragile doll. Emilie felt his tenderness, but he too was clouded with anxiety.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Jeremy led the way up the stairs. He washed Emilie in the shower and gently dried her off with a towel. Dressing her in clean pajamas, he rubbed her arms and legs to get her blood flowing and warm up her cold body.

  Emilie wanted to smile, wanted to hug him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do anything. The entire time, she stood numb as if sleepwalking, like a zombie. He tucked her in bed and wrapped the blanket tight around her, forming a small cocoon, no doubt trying to make her feel safe. She appreciated his tenderness, and was glad when he laid down beside her, but the emotional stress of everything that had happened was too overwhelming. Visions of death, and premonitions that she had been pushing away for weeks, now surged upon her.

  She didn’t understand the voices in her head, or how they got there, but the raw edges surfaced, engulfing her in shadows of the past, painful echoes and recollections. She was also afraid for Rachael, upset that everything they had done, all that destruction and struggle, had been in vain. She was angry with Robert, angry with everyone. When will this deep dark veil leave my life? She knew she couldn’t bring her mother back, but to lose her father to this curse too… It was too much to contemplate right now. She wished she could turn off her mind with a switch.

  Jeremy gently rubbed her arm and whispered softly, “I love you Emilie.”

  Emilie drifted to sleep, but haunting fears of the curse’s deadly reach dominated her dreams.

  She envisioned Chief Saturiwa, standing tall with his massive body covered in dark tattoos of wild animals, to show his bravery to the world. He laughed at her, and at her family, who all seemed to be there, too.

  In her dream, the chief chased her father down a long path. She ran alongside him, through overgrowth and marshes. Mosquitoes bit at her ankles and arms, and she swatted them away. The path was long and seemed never ending. All her deceased relatives were hidden in the scrub palms on the sides of the path. As her father passed, the ancestors reached out and tried to touch him. Their voices cried out in high-pitched screams that belonged to another world.

  Suddenly, the chief stopped running and grew taller, while everything else distorted. His ebony hair matched his dark eyes, and he chanted with a thunderous voice as the sky flared with bolts of lightning.

  Emilie became dizzy. Even though this was a dream, she felt the terror. The voices from the bushes, all her ancestors, cried out to her for help.

  She sobbed in her sleep, while Jeremy held her tight.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  It was an early morning start at the de Gourgues house. Emilie woke up to sounds coming from the kitchen downstairs. She saw Jeremy resting next to her, watching her. She could feel his warm skin against her own.

  “How did you sleep?” he asked.

  He brushed her hair back away from her face. She knew he was worried and she didn’t want him to think of her as a burden that way. Get a grip, Emilie ordered herself. She swallowed. Her mouth was as parched as a desert.

  “I’m fine, thanks. I think I finally got a little sleep and feel much better. I hope you slept.”

  He smiled. “No worries.”

  Emilie squeezed his hand, smiled, and forced herself to get up, heading straight for the bathroom. She splashed water on her face, brushed her teeth, and dressed. When she emerged, Jeremy was sitting by the desk, already dressed and looking ready for his day.

  “My, you’re quick. Morning person all the time?”

  “I woke up earlier and washed,” he said. “I need to work, remember.”

  “Come on, then. Let’s give this working man a good breakfast.”

  Nina had made the coffee good and strong. Its aroma wafted up the stairway, and led them to the kitchen. A big breakfast was already on the table, with eggs and grits, biscuits covered with sausage gravy, and fresh-squeezed juice. The smell of bacon lingered in the air.

  “Good morning, Nina. Nice breakfast. What gives?” Emilie said.

  “We have a house full, so I decided you all need to have breakfast together. You don’t have a problem with that, do you? Of course you don’t,” Nina answered for Emilie, and then hummed as she finished putting out the food.

  “It looks wonderful, thank you,” Jer
emy said.

  “I told you I like this one, Miss Emilie. Y’all could take lessons from him. Lord knows I have been trying for years to teach you children something about being happy. But now things seem dismal around here, more than ever. Y’all have so much to be grateful for, too.” Nina shook her head and returned to the stove.

  Michelle and Robert seated themselves for breakfast, too. Her sister didn’t say a word, but kept looking at Robert as he sipped his coffee, and then back at Emilie. Emilie wondered what she was up to, Michelle looked uneasy. Nina came back to the table and placed a plate of pancakes in front of Michelle.

  “Miss Michelle, here’s your favorite.” Nina smiled. “Now, tell me why you look like some deep secret gotz your tongue.”

  Michelle grinned a familiar, crafty smile. “Nina, you have a vivid imagination.”

  “You’re trouble, no doubt about that, but a nice kind of trouble.” Nina smiled and left.

  Robert didn’t joke with Nina. Instead, his eyes roamed from one sister to the other, then to his father, and back again. “I’m picking up Rachael after breakfast, and bringing her back to the house. Does anyone have a problem with that?”

  “Of course not, we’ll be happy to see her, Robert,” Emilie said.

  “I have a nurse coming also, to watch after her. So there’s no burden on anyone,” he added.

  “No one thinks she’s a burden, for God’s sake,” Pierre said.

  “I’ll help the nurse take care of her, you know, maybe I can read to her,” Emilie said. “I have fond memories of us reading together in the library. It will be nice to see her again after all this time.”

  “That’s right,” Michelle said. “The two of you were inseparable when you were kids. Sounds like boring times to me, though. Does she still have that beautiful long auburn hair?”

  “Yes, she does, Michelle,” Robert said. “And thanks for your support, Em. Just please don’t tire her out more than she can stand.”

  “My, you’re protective,” Emilie said