* * *
The farmer’s market was held daily from early spring through midsummer. And as we walked toward the white tents, we passed the Tivoli Parish Historical Society. A small, dinky storefront with an elaborately ornate sign. The juxtaposition always made me laugh.
We’d just walked past when Craven came running outside.
“Oh, Miss Frances, look at you, here in town! And it’s a lucky day for me, I guess because I have something to tell you, well, ask you. And tell you … I was just going to make a trip into the bayou, and now I don’t! It’s fascinating, really … you see—” He broke off suddenly, noticing Sippie. “Well, hello again, Miss … Wallace. How are you getting on?” He turned his attention back to me, not waiting for an answer. “Anyway, I found an old newspaper article from a French paper called Le Matin, and the society pages! They state that SuzyNell Sorrow was returning to America to claim Sorrow Hall. This explains so many things, Miss Frances. I gave a copy of it to Jack, and I wanted to show it to you, only I can’t seem to find him (or the original for that matter). And I must either find HIM or IT as this stellar find gives me actual proof that … well, suffice it to say, I think there has been a terrible misunderstanding.…”
“Oh, Craven. You fixin’ on spoiling every single mystery?” I asked, wanting to be on our way to get the devil’s bit. “What are we without the shadow of the unknown? Now, why don’t you go add Sippie to that crazy family tree you keep up for all of us?”
It was like hanging something shiny in front of a bird. “Yes! Oh my, yes. Oh! But could you just tell me where to find Jack—”
“No, sir, got to get to the market before it closes, but you know you are always welcome at Sorrow Hall. And by the way, better start boarding up your things, we’re expecting a big storm.”
“How big?”
“Big enough, Craven.”
“Oh my, I should pack all this up, then, and bring it to Thirteen Bourbon. Will there be a room for me? Should I go now?”
Sippie and I smiled at each other. He’s easy to fluster, and I could tell we were both holding back needling him more than he deserved.
“I’d wait, I mean, until after the solstice, because we need you there,” said Sippie.
“But our, I mean, your history is so much more important. Maybe I’ll skip this year’s. Oh, my … yes. Yes, I’ll start packing right now.”
Sippie tried not to laugh.
Mr. Craven hurried back inside, muttering packing plans to himself.
* * *
Alva Vidal saw me before I saw her.
“Frances, ma cha, you come to me again aftah all dees yeahs? And dis time, look, you be wit dat young one you lost. You’ve grown up into a beauty, Sippie Wallace. I figure you bot be finding yo’ own selves now dat you found each other, no?”
“She’s the real thing, ain’t she?” whispered Sippie.
“Used to scare me to death when I was little, though I wouldn’t admit it. Let’s not stay too long. I always swear she can look right inside the soul, maybe even steal it.”
“For someone who decided not to believe in magic, you sure believe in magic.”
“Oh, Sippie, I decided not to believe in my family and their magic. I never said anything about other things in this crazy world.” Then I turned to Alva, who stood watch over a foul-smelling table of roots.
“Alva, it’s been too long. And I’d love to stay and catch up on everything, but I need something.”
“Here you go, cha, devil’s bit. All wrapped up for you. And some bulbs, too, so you can plant dem in your own garden once again … now dat you back.”
“Merci,” I whispered.
“A storm be comin’, cha, take care of your babies. Don’t make no deals wit no devils, you can’t afford to pay dat fine, girl. You hear? Now go, tings about to get all kinds of messy. Just when you ready to give up, you remember dis, the tantrum, it set you free. The mad inside, you let it go, you find your way. Tell her, Sippie Wallace. Tell her.”
Sippie had my hand and was dragging me away. We started to run, fast and free. JuneBug let us ride in the flatbed on the way back. We were wind tossed and wild, laughing the whole way home at the strange world.
When we finally got home, we did a discreet check in on Jack. “I can’t wait to meet him tomorrow. You think he’ll be okay with all this?” asked Sippie.
“I’m sure he will … but even if he isn’t, he’ll learn.”
As we cast our spell in the night garden, the one to make those Tivoli trash boys good, I could feel us growing together, curling … unfurling and interlacing like the vines growing wild all around. It was beautiful. We had missed so much time because of some stupid, stubborn girl.
Me.
“You sure are somethin’, Sippie,” I said when we were done. “Let’s turn in.”
I’d rigged a feather bed on a platform on the floor close to me, so we could talk. I fell asleep listening to her voice, it was such a delicious thing. I wanted to talk to her forever. I wanted to know what her first words were, when she learned to walk … but couldn’t ask. Those questions were too full of sad.
“What did it feel like, when you gave me to Eight Track?”
“Well, at first, I wasn’t going to give you up at all. I’d wake up crying. I’d never cried like that before. When I finally saw you, my first thought was, I’m not giving this baby up. I couldn’t give you up; you were the most beautiful baby, my baby. I fell in love with you, and that was the problem. It happened too fast. I had no time to think clearly.”
“What do you mean?”
“We had it all worked out, and Eight Track, he tried to make me keep you. He did. But I was stubborn and felt like everything had to happen immediately. So, he took you out of the building, and I ran to the window and yelled, ‘I’m not ready, wait, come back.’ But he couldn’t hear me, Sippie. Everything had already been set in motion. And by the time I woke up the next day, the missing you was another layer of hate I laid across the world.”
“So, you put your magic away. Because of me?”
“Of course not. You were just a baby. I put it away because I couldn’t understand why it didn’t help me figure out what to do. I was so young,” I said.
And then, in perfect Sorrow fashion, she turned the conversation around.
“You ever get mad at how people make witches out to be ugly? Like in the movies and books and stuff. Or even if there’s one that’s pretty, she’s all old inside or ugly when she looks in a mirror.”
“I don’t pay much attention to those things, Sippie. And there’s not a lot of TV or movie watching in these parts.”
“That suits me fine. And just because you sell yourself to the devil don’t mean you have to be ugly, right?”
My stomach hurt so hard from laughing at that one. Sippie Wallace was waking things up inside me that I thought were dead and buried. She was bringing me back to life. Hell, she was even digging up new parts of me I never knew existed.
As I fell asleep, I was eager for the next day. The solstice celebration, seeing Jack. But I had no idea what that next day, our sacred day, would hold. And if I did, I swear to God, I might have thrown it all away and slept forever.
The Full Moon on the Eve of the Summer Solstice
If the moon be full, the magic be full.
It is time for us to rid ourselves of unwanted things.
Work your protection Magic.
Let go of habits that hold you back from the truth.
Direct the moon’s light inward for revelation.
Revealing yourself to yourself.
Only then are you never complicit in harm.
The lies we tell to ourselves make us weak.
Always stand tall inside of your truth.
—Serafina’s Book of Sorrows
14
“I Should Have Stayed Fishing”
Danny
On the morning of Solstice Eve, Danny and Old Jim could see the faint outline of Saint Sabine Isle. They were
heading for the mouth of Tivoli River, when a dense fog (that hadn’t been in the maritime forecast) rolled in and forced them to drop anchor before they could get to Lafourch’s seafood to off-load. Danny was anxious. The water did not feel friendly or peaceful. He wanted to see Jack. He wanted to tell Frances how much he needed her. How much he wanted to try again. Maybe get it right this time. But that fog had them stuck with nothing but time and worry.
Old Jim and Danny, one man old with a young heart, the other young with an old heart, stood silently, watching as the unexpected squall skimmed off to the east.
“That there fog ain’t right. It’s that damn solstice tradition of theirs. Those people, I swear,” Danny grumbled.
“Those people are my people, boy. And those people have been good to you. Don’t you dare forget it.” Old Jim didn’t usually snap at Danny. His tone unnerved Danny even further. The radio kicked on below, and Old Jim went to get it. Danny breathed a sigh of relief. He hated stepping on Jim’s toes.
“Dan! JuneBug’s on this here radio for you, again. Next time we stay out this long, I’m shootin’ this thing. Point is to get away from everything as far as I’m concerned. Not to be bothered with all them hens back home.”
Danny smiled slyly. “What happens if we get stranded? Besides, you love them hens.”
“Just go see what new fool thing that boy wants from you.”
Turns out it wasn’t a fool thing at all; it’s what his old coach back at Louisiana State would have called “a game changer.”
“Yeah, Junie, I’m here.”
“You fellas close to home?”
“We here already, damn fog rolled in. When it clears, we’ll be at Lafourch’s. You all ready for a haul the size of kingdom come? We got shrimp comin’ out our ears over here.”
“That’s fine! Fine, but, ah, well, I got something I think you should know. Now, it ain’t fact, and no one told me not to tell you, but I got a feelin’ maybe they don’t want me to tell you and—”
“JuneBug Lafourch, if you don’t speak your mind I might shoot up this damn radio.”
Old Jim let out a snort from up on deck.
“Turns out that girl them boys brought to Frankie’s? Well, turns out, she’s Frankie’s daughter, Dan. Got a funny name, too (not that I’m one to talk). They call her Sippie.”
Danny dropped the radio receiver.
“You there? T-Dan … you there?”
“I’m here, I’m here,” Danny sputtered.
“Well, anyway, she had her over there on Bourbon Street way back when she was still, well, you know, as sane as them women ever get. And—”
Danny interrupted, “Okay, uh, thanks for the info, Junebug, we’ll … we’ll be in soon.”
“Will do, Danny.”
Dan waited a few minutes to go up on deck. His heart was beating so fast, he thought he might have a heart attack. He was still trying to catch his breath when he rejoined Old Jim.
“What’s he fussin’ over?”
Danny didn’t answer. He just looked out over the water again. The fog had begun to shift, and he could see more of Saint Sabine Isle.
That damn fog.
“That’s where it all started, Jim. And here we are stuck looking at it.”
“What started?”
“Me and Frankie.”
“When?”
“Well, you were gone that summer. Out on a big rig, remember? And I was gonna go off to college in the fall. And Frankie was walking down that beach, playing in the ruins of that fancy resort.”
“I remember, she sure loved going there. But, you gonna get around to tellin’ me what Junie said?” Old Jim wasn’t easily distracted.
“In a minute. Anyway, I was there, too, by accident. But you all know I’d loved her for ages. I just never told her.”
“You never had the courage to go against all them people in Tivoli Proper who made fun of her. Sons a bitches.”
“Jim, she came to school barefoot, dirty clothes, no manners, no lunch. How were they supposed to act?”
Old Jim sighed. “You right, boy. You right. Can’t tell that girl nothing, never could. So we didn’t argue. And, when your mama is blind, you don’t always have the best outfits.”
They both chuckled, the way they always did whenever things got too serious.
“So I was walking one way up the beach, and she was walking the other. And damn, Jim … she was only fifteen, but her hair, blowing in that wind. Her confidence, her body—”
“Enough of that, boy,” scolded Old Jim.
“We spent the summer there. Didn’t tell anyone. I gave her a strange little key I found on the shore, and she strung it up on a piece of ribbon.”
“I know. She never takes it off. To this very day,” said Old Jim.
Danny knew, too, and it made him happy. Though when they were fighting, he wanted to rip it off her neck.
“Jim, that summer was the beginning and end of everything. She wanted me to stay, but I needed to go. I knew I’d miss her, but I didn’t know how much. So on my way to college, I stopped at Thirteen Bourbon and went walkin’ in like I owned her or somethin’. And that’s when I saw her with that Jazz Man. I almost lost my damn mind.”
Danny roughly pushed his hands through his hair and sighed.
“You gonna keep strollin’ me down memory lane or tell me what this is about? This about somethin’ JuneBug said?”
“I don’t know if I’m the right person to tell you this mess of news, Jim. Because in the end, it’s gonna be about you, not me.”
“Boy, you actin’ like a woman. Just tell me.”
Danny recounted the radio call with JuneBug. “Her name is Sippie. Wallace” he finished.
“So, I got me a grown great-grandbaby I never knew. Hell, it feels like Christmas! Sippie, Wallace huh? Like that blues singer. Frankie musta’ given that baby to one of them musicians to raise. What a turn of events … a granddaughter. Tie me up happy and shoot me to the moon.”
After taking a flask from his back pocket, Old Jim took a swig. “Want one?”
“Nah,” said Danny.
Old Jim got too quiet too fast as knowledge swept across his face. “All that you’ve been tellin’ me about Saint Sabine Isle … that’s when all the love happened, right? Dammit, Danny, you got no sense. She was too young! And then you kept her a secret. And thought she’d trust you again? No wonder she ran off to Bourbon Street and lost her mind. You’re the reason I didn’t get to bounce that Sippie girl on my knee. You better walk to the other side of this boat, boy. I feel an anger comin’ on me quick.”
“But Jim,” began Danny, just as Saint Sabine Isle started to come into view through the lifting fog, “I can’t wrap my mind around it. Why didn’t she ever tell me?”
“You really askin’ me why Frances kept some sort of secret from you? Something that hurt her or broke her up so bad she came back from that time in her life all beaten down and bitter? You more of a fool than I usually give you credit for, son.”
Danny sat back against a pile of nets on deck. “So that could be why she was so messed up when Jack was born. Dammit, Jim! It answers so many questions. If she’d just told me, we coulda worked it out.”
“You don’t seem to recall those fights you had. How you didn’t listen to a word that woman said? How you blamed her for wreckin’ your life? Tell me, Dan, give me one time during your whole godforsaken marriage that she could have trusted you enough with something she didn’t trust her own grandpap with. Stop bein’ an ass.”
“You’re right. And I know it.”
“Good. Now, the fog’s liftin’. We best get to work fast so we can get on over to Sorrow Hall and meet that girl of hers.” Old Jim angled the boat toward the docks.
“You know what, Jim? I’m gonna look at it like you. I’m gonna look at it like a gift. I’m not gonna be mad about it.”
“It’s good to hear you’re gonna stop bein’ an ass, boy. But you might want to tell me a little bit more about you and our Fr
ankie. It ain’t that I want to know the whats and the wheres or none of that shit. But I think you ain’t considering one important fact here, boy.”
“What’s that?”
“Timing.”
“Timing?”
“When did you say you went up to Thirteen Bourbon?”
“End of August, right when I was going to school.”
“And did the two of you … shit, boy, put two and two together afore I lose my mind and beat you senseless.”
“We did. But she was already with that Jazz Man.”
“Don’t you know anything about the birds and the bees, son?”
Danny felt the world crash and break over him, like he was drowning with only a speck of sun to swim toward.
“That girl could be mine,” Danny whispered. And he knew that he’d known it to be true the second Junie mentioned it. It was taking a journey from his head to his heart.
“We got to figure out how we gonna string those Tivoli trash boys up by their balls. Mess with one of my own and there aint no savin’ you. Skin ’em, I say. I never been more unhappy about being on the water, I tell you what,” Old Jim muttered. But Danny wasn’t really listening,
“Jesus, Jim. She’s mine. I know she is. I just know it. Let’s swim to shore.”
“I enjoy your enthusiasm, boy, but I think we better dock first.”
“Then hurry up, old man.”
Danny’s land legs were wobbly as he drove out from the island onto the mainland. He thought about stopping at the Voodoo for a drink but didn’t want to be a coward. Or run into Millie, which also made him a coward. The Voodoo always seemed to complicate things for him.
Frances and Danny had many “dances” in their lives. The Christmas pageant when they were thirteen. The summer on Saint Sabine Isle two years later and that crazy night at 13 Bourbon Street (that may have resulted in a daughter he didn’t know he had). But the night at the Voodoo, that night would lead to their longest, meanest run of passion.
They’d repeated the whole dance again. Between his junior and senior years, he came back to Tivoli Parish with those fool boys who wanted to drink at the Voodoo. Get in some bayou culture … slum it. And there she was, sitting at the bar looking like a movie star and drinking like a lush. It felt like they were back on that beach before the big bad world made them grow up too quick. They spent that whole summer and fall together (Danny making frequent trips back home to see her), free and in love, trying to re-create the past. Neither of them suspecting that within a few months, Danny would be out of school, and they’d be married with a baby on the way. Looking back, Danny knew that the Frances he swept up at the Voodoo, the Frances he married, and the Frances who left him … all those versions were never the same as the girl he’d first loved when they were both kids. He kept waiting for her to come back, got mad at her for changing. But now …
The Witch of Bourbon Street Page 13
