The Witch of Bourbon Street

by Suzanne Palmieri

  16

  A Not-So-Festive Solstice

  Frances

  I should have known the minute I decided to participate in the solstice that it would spell disaster. The storm had fallen from the realm of instinct straight into the reality of the national news and was now looming, dark and angry, off our shores.

  Mama and Dida had come down to my house that day, making their way slow up the twisting docks, holding lanterns and dressed up for the play, looking like crazy pirate explorers. Their long hair whipped in the wind behind them; their skirts were half-damp with the water splashing up through the planks. They were a colorful mess of fabrics, bangles, canes, hats, and bags. Mama had her hand on Dida’s shoulder, tentatively following behind her.

  I’m gonna ask Old Jim to put back those ropes connecting us.

  “How’s my new great-grandbaby doin’?” Dida asked as we met them on the grass in front of my porch.

  “She’s just fine,” I said.

  “Can’t the girl speak for herself?” asked Claudette.

  Maybe those ropes could stay cut a little while longer.

  “Don’t start, you two,” said Dida. “Anyone seen Millie? Craven and JuneBug are up at the hall putting the last few touches on the set. Craven keeps on yellin’ about people bein’ on their way. How many people came last year, Claudette, two? And with this storm, we’ll be lucky if anyone comes at all. Just in case, though, I got some girls in from Tivoli Proper gettin’ the food ready. Now, Frances, I just want you to know, it’s been real nice having you back with us. Just like the old days. Really, though, where is that Millie Bliss?”

  And as if Dida’d conjured her up, Millie came from around the back of my shack, swatting at the gnats that were growing thicker as dusk fell.

  “I feel as if someone is calling my name,” she said spookily, like a witch called from the grave in one of those old movies we used to sneak into town to see.

  “Girl, where you been?! There’s still a lot of work to do. And people … well, if they come, they’ll start rowing up to our dock in less than an hour!” said Claudette.

  Millie walked up my porch steps and threw herself down on a chair, laughing. “One, ain’t no one comin’. Two, you don’t need me. Frances the Great has come back from her exile to take over her rightful place in the Sorrow world. Now, let’s see … she made all the tinctures and teas, prepared all the herbs and flowers, and she got the lead role in our play. So, what is it you needed? Did you need me to babysit this new kid? Because, I thought for sure I was done babysitting.”

  I wasn’t sure if Millie was drunk, tired, or just plain mad. And, we Sorrows—and I always considered her one of us—really do love our sarcasm. But this was over-the-top, even for Millie.

  “Now, you just wait a minute—” I started.

  Sippie tucked her hand quickly inside of mine. “It’s okay, Frances. Everyone’s just all worked up.”

  “You know what, Sippie?” Millie said, standing up. “You right. The whole world is humming. You feel it?”

  “Sure is. Especially you. You in rare form, Miss Millie,” said Dida.

  “I hear a boat,” said Claudette. “Come on, ladies, let’s head back and get ourselves all ready. It’s time.”

  “Oh look, it’s Danny,” said Millie, who sat on the bottom step of my porch, lit a cigarette, and looked like a cobra, those green eyes shining like slits.

  I looked up the bayou to Danny and back at Millie. “What is the matter with you?” I asked. “You look about ready to kill someone.”

  “Oh, Frankie. Hush. Just go on, run to your man,” she said, suddenly very sad and waving me away in a plume of cigarette smoke.

  “That’s him?” asked Sippie.

  “Yep.”

  “This gonna be weird?”

  “Yep.”

  She gave my hand a squeeze and then let go.

  Danny was tying off his boat. I waited for him to start walking up the dock and then couldn’t help running to him with my heart beating wildly in my chest. He picked me up in his strong arms like I was nothing but half a feather. Wrapping my legs around him, I buried my head in his neck. He smelled of salt and sweat, hard work and fish, but I didn’t care. He smelled like home. Before I knew it, our faces were pressed against each other, and out of some kind of sheer, hot will, we were kissing, his full lips finding mine over and over again. I didn’t ever want to stop, each kiss seemed to take an edge off all the old pain. It was better than a sedative, better than a stimulant. It was Danny.

  It was always Danny.

  “Danny, I got so much to tell you, I’ve been listening to everything you said to me over the years, and it’s like I can finally hear you, you know? And look, just look at me, I’m gonna help these hens out with our solstice, and then, well, I got somethin’ to tell you. And it’s, well, it’s a big sort of thing.”

  I felt like I was a rambling twelve year old.

  And Danny, who usually liked it when I went all childish and excited—“You’re so pretty when you smile, Gypsy,” he’d say—he was just standing there, dead quiet.

  “Has everyone lost their minds?” I asked.

  “Frances?” Sippie called from my porch. Millie, Dida, and Claudette were just standing there, the moon rising behind them, watching us. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  Danny was just staring at her.

  “You got something wrong with you?” I asked.

  Danny pulled me into another, tighter hug.

  “I already know about Sippie. JuneBug radioed. And there’s so much in my heart and on my mind. So many questions. But I have to tell you something. And you aren’t going to like it. So when I say it, you can’t think I’m not interested or don’t care about that beauty waiting for us up there,” he said, nodding his head toward Sippie.

  I reached up and touched Danny’s face. He had the start of a beard from his time on the boat. “You can tell me anything, Danny. I won’t hold anything against you. I’m done with that.”

  He took in a deep breath. “It’s Jack. He’s been gone all week. Pete says he’s missing. And even though I think he’s nuts for doing it, he’s called the police. Probably gonna mess up your whole night, but Frankie, have you seen him?”

  That’s when I laughed. I’ll never forget that, how I laughed. It shames me to think on it.

  “Oh, Dan. Always worried,” Millie spoke up from behind me.

  I jumped. “You can be like a cat when you wanna be, Millie,” I said. Her tone, too quiet and loud at the same time, was nerve-racking.

  “He’s safe,” I told Danny, but I was looking at Millie. Giving her our secret little eye thing we do when we want the other one to shut up. “He’s over at the juju cabin thinkin’ we don’t know he’s there. I been secretly checking on him every day.”

  “Every day?” asked Millie.

  That made me right mad. Millie was playing me, and I didn’t know why. She’s my safe person. My friend. So I didn’t understand this dance she was doing.

  “Not today, not yet,” I said.

  “Why do you think he ran off?” asked Danny, who was visibly relieved but also seemed to be giving Millie that same overly familiar Shut up look. I frowned.

  “I got a feeling he wants to make us worry. He’s mad about somethin’,” I said, a knowledge blooming inside me that I really didn’t want to know.

  “Everyone okay down there?” asked Dida.

  “We good, Dida,” Danny yelled.

  “My Jim comin?”

  “Sho’ is. I rushed off and left him to off-load. He’ll be by soon.”

  “We gonna go up to the house, Frankie. You come on up when you done with whatever you doin’. Millie, why not leave those two alone. A lot has happened this past week,” said Dida.

  “Hush your goddamned face, woman!” Millie yelled … loud. Too loud. “Christ, these witches.” She leaned on a piling and lit another cigarette.

  Claudette and Dida started walking the docks toward t
he house with Sippie between them. She looked back at me. I nodded for her to go.

  “Look, you two,” said Millie. “Jack told me he’d be coming back tonight, make his big entrance right in the middle of our play. Like Huck Finn or Tom Sawyer or somethin’ like that. Whichever one walked in on his own funeral.”

  “How did you know that?” I asked.

  “How do you think? He told me. Seems like you’re turning into that kind of mama you never wanted to be, all cold and closed up.”

  Danny cleared his throat. “Thanks, Millie, I think we both feel a lot better now. I’ll just go on back to the Voodoo right quick and try to cut off those police before they cross Trinity Bridge. Then I’ll come back here, and Frances”—he turned to me—“I love you, honey, and can’t wait for you to catch me up on everything and meet that girl of ours … properly.”

  “Isn’t this just adorable,” Millie said, voice like too-sweet frosting. “And really, I can’t wait for that family reunion, but there’s … One. Small. Problem.”

  “Which is?” I asked.

  “Jack’s not there. I just went to check on him since his mama forgot today. And he’s not there.”

  “You sure?” asked Danny.

  “Yep, all his stuff is gone, too. Everything except his scrapbook.” She reached into her big velvet bag and pulled out Jack’s prized possession.

  “But the storm, it’s coming. Maybe he went back to Tivoli?” I asked.

  “Pete would have known that,” said Danny. “When did you see him last, Frances?”

  “Yesterday. I left him some oranges. He looked like he was gettin’ scurvy,” I said. “He left his scrapbook?” My mind raced. “Danny, he wouldn’t have left that. Now … now I’m worried.”

  “Let’s go double-check,” said Danny.

  We searched the cypress grove, checking the lean-to again and again. Blue lights flickered everywhere as night fell around us. Feux follets. The souls of the lost.

  “I can’t do this. Danny, I can’t find one child and lose another—” My voice broke. We were back at the dock, getting ready to take Danny’s boat up and down the river and into Meager Swamp.

  Millie started to laugh. This time it was a mean sort of cackle.

  “Shut up, Millie, I swear to God,” Danny said harshly.

  “What is going on?” I asked, arms crossed. “Is there something I’m missing here? Other than my son?”

  Danny hung his head.

  “I was just thinking about why that boy ran away to begin with. I was trying to save you a little guilt, Frankie. Because it ain’t your fault he’s gone. It’s Danny’s.”

  “You best tell me right now what the hell you’re on about, Millie.”

  Millie and Danny looked at each other, and that thing I didn’t want to know, I suddenly knew in my bones.

  “The two of you? Really? Will wonders never cease? Millie, hand me one of them cigarettes.” I lit one and inhaled. The night was coming on full. Old Jim skimmed by in his boat, waving at us, heading straight for the docks at Sorrow Hall for his lady. We all waved like nothin’ was goin’ on. “How long?” I asked edgily.

  “Two years, give or take,” said Millie.

  Two years.

  “Well, I mean, Danny has to have some sort of life. And why not choose to be with someone who looks like me?” I added harshly.

  “Wait, you’re mad at me? What about him?” asked Millie.

  A fierce kind of mean boiled up from deep inside me just then.

  “Danny and I have a love you will never understand, Millie. And it belongs to us. Hell, we don’t even understand it. But you? You come over here and you lie to me. You know where Jack is, you know why he left. So I’m thinkin’ maybe I should be angry with you. Real angry. Because you know how much I ache for Danny. How many times I cried to you about it. Then you gonna lay that body of yours down on his? What the hell kinda friendship is that?” I said, steel in my voice as my eyes went dull and quiet. “And you knew about Sippie, too. For all those years you knew. She remembers you, you know, from that night when Simone died. I’ve been trying to convince myself that you were protecting me, but now I’m thinkin’ you just wanted to let her suffer.”

  I didn’t really think the stuff about Sippie was true, but I couldn’t help saying it anyway. And then I saw her eyes grow wide with surprise, and I knew all the worst things I could conjure about her right then and there just might be true.

  “Say that’s not true, Millie,” said Danny.

  “You two don’t deserve any of what you got,” she said. “You got one boy who’s so mad at you both that he runs off into a storm. And you got a little lost girl that you gave away who washes up on your dock. That’s what you do, isn’t it, Frances. You just give everything away. And what do I get? Nothing. I came here, lived with you, was as close as a sister to you. And you run off because of this ass”—she gave Danny a little shove with her hand—“and then next thing I know, I’m asked to go and run the Voodoo. And then, when you get back, I got to take on everything you discarded with none of the love attached. You ever think of that, you selfish witch?” Millie’s eyes took on a glint. “And you know what? You’re right, I did know about that damp little girl. All dirty and raised up by those lowborn people you Sorrows love to pal around with. And I wasn’t gonna bring her back here and give myself one more child to raise. I’m done raising your children with nothing in return. It’s my turn now.”

  A fire rose up inside me so fast, I was on her before she could even finish, slapping, punching, kicking, until we fell right off the dock into the water. I tried to drown her. I really did. Danny jumped in, pulling us apart and helping us back out of the water. Millie just stood there dripping, coughing, and bleeding while eyeing me. The sight of her knocked some sense back into me.

  “Oh, my God, Millie! I’m so sorry! You okay? I don’t even know where that came from! I just want to understand why,” I pleaded.

  She glared at me, wiping some blood from the corner of her mouth. Then, with a sly half grin, she mouthed, “Thank you.”

  I’d never been so confused.

  “Frankie, you’re okay; she’s okay. It’s all gonna be okay,” said Danny.

  “But I love her. I need to know,” I said.

  “When we love, we get hurt. Your people taught me that,” said Millie.

  “I don’t even have time right now to argue about how ass backwards that is,” I said.

  Police sirens suddenly rang out in the distance.

  “Thank God!” Millie practically swooned. “The cavalry!”

  Her predilection for fake dramatics made me wish I had drowned her.

  “Did you find him?” Danny asked as the police boat slammed into the deck. But he didn’t get an answer.

  “Did you find our boy?” I asked in case they hadn’t heard Danny.

  “Frances Green Sorrow?” asked a police officer.

  “Yes?”

  “You are under arrest and charged with possible kidnapping and let’s add what looks like assault. You pressing charges, Millie?”

  “You bet I am,” she said. And I thought Danny would hit her next.

  “What the hell is goin’ on over here?” yelled Old Jim, who had run down from Sorrow Hall with Sippie. The police were putting cuffs on me, and Millie was just standing there, smiling.

  “Get her outta here, Jim!” yelled Danny, walking up the dock.

  “What did you do, Danny? Did you call the police on her? You fuckin’ creep!” Sippie screamed. She had lost control, and I saw, for the first time, the pain she’d lived through. “This is who you married, Frances? This coward? He ain’t brave or strong or mighty. That handsome face you got sure do hide all that nasty underneath, don’t it, fool?”

  She was about to gouge out his eyes when Danny grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her tight. “Shhh, Sippie, it’s gonna be okay. It wasn’t me, I swear it, but I’m gonna fix it. Don’t you worry.”

  “You got your daughter under control, sir
? Or do we have to drag her in as well?”

  “I got her,” said Danny. “It’s been a long day.”

  “Find our boy, Danny,” I said as they put me into the boat. And then we were gone, away from Sorrow Hall, away from everything. And with the sirens off, that little police boat was almost peaceful.

  The water glowed under the waxing moon. I stared out over it, numb and half-crazy, like I was on some kind of drug.

  “You know what?” I said to the younger of the officers. “The whole bayou reminds me of a woman, her head thrown back in laughter. That dark water snakes against the land in uneven, almost surreal ways. Kinda like the people of the bayou. No distinguishable boundaries, uniform flood paths or predictable tides. It just slinks itself forward and back, depending on the day or mood. You ever notice?”

  “You right, Nick, this one is crazy.”

  I didn’t care, I just kept on talking. “I always loved the subtle ease of stubborn, languid waters. Until tonight when I wanted to set it all on fire.”

  “That kind of talk ain’t gonna help you none, ma’am.”

  “Or maybe it’s more like Medusa,” I mumbled, closing my eyes so I could see Serafina, the first witch. She was everywhere, like a map of the bayou. Her long curly hair was drawn with the bayou waters, tendrils curling around in spirals, leading to smaller wisps of streams and broad, thick, swampy pools. Her face reflected in Saint Sabine Isle. The sand, toasted golden by the sun, was open, ready for the adventures lurking out in the Gulf. Jade stones for her eyes and the teahouse a glowing refuge for her thoughts and dreams. And then it hit me. She has him. Millie took my boy.

  “Give him back to me, you good for nothing half-assed witch,” I yelled.

  “That’ll be enough of that, Ms. Sorrow,” said one of the officers. I made a mental note to find out who he was so I could make sure his first child was born with six fingers.

  17

  Shall We Gather at the Voodoo

  Sippie

  While police searched the bayou, further spreading the news that Frances was in jail, everyone gathered at the Voodoo. Sippie couldn’t believe the joint could hold all the people pouring in. Friends and family and strangers, too. Pete was helping Junie in the kitchen, food was coming out on big trays. It was like a party, only it wasn’t a party at all.