She beamed, cupping her hands to accept the necklace. I placed it into her hands and she held it up to the light of the lamp on the nightstand. She studied the little heart with the roses etched into the gold. She opened it and marveled at the pictures of my parents—her grandparents. “I’ll take really good care of it,” she said, eyes glued to the pictures.
“I know you will.”
“Can I sleep with you tonight?”
I sighed again, but was actually flattered that she wanted to spend so much time with me lately. “Okay,” I said. “But if you snore, I’m going to throw you out the window.” She giggled for a very long time, even after I turned out the light. I had to tell her several times to stop, but I soon caught the giggles, too. Nearly an hour must have passed by before we finally fell asleep.
When I awoke, it was after eight o’clock and Lyla had already gone to school. I had a quick breakfast and packed up my car. I hung around until Lyla came home because she wanted to hug me goodbye. By the time I hit the Atchafalya Basin Bridge, that long stretch of road spanning the bayous of Southeastern Louisiana, it was nearly five and the rush hour traffic was already getting heavy. But I just put on some good music and stayed my course for the Crescent City.
2
Voodoo and Beignets
As I drove down I-10 East, I had no idea what awaited me in New Orleans. I vaguely remembered Cee Cee’s apartment from when I was little. But I do remember it being in the French Quarter, so this trip couldn’t be all bad, though I felt uneasy about meeting this man who was supposed to train me in the art of the Traiteur. I wasn’t exactly comfortable around strangers.
When I got on the bridge crossing Lake Pontchartrain, I knew New Orleans was very near. I looked out over the vast body of water, seeing the overcast sky mirrored in its reflection. It looked like there would be no more sun today, and I was sure it would be raining by the time I made it to Cee Cee’s. It was mid January, and the days were shorter. Lately there was no bitter cold, and I felt comfortable enough to walk around during the day without a coat, but long sleeves were necessary.
I made my way into the city, meandering through the old streets until I finally got to the cobblestone-paved Quarter. I remember taking a tour once and they said that, because of the soil in the area, they couldn’t make paving material when they wanted to pave streets. The city offered ships a bounty to bring in rock ballast rather than sand. If I remember right, the first cobblestone pavement was around Magazine Street in the early nineteenth century. Regardless, it certainly added to the charm of the area.
There were several Voodoo shops in the Quarter, but Cee Cee’s apartment was above the only shop that looked authentic and not tacky. Her store wasn’t made for tourists; she was the real deal. It was Sunday, so her shop would be closed. I parked in the alley in the back and got out with my luggage. I climbed up the rusted stairwell to an equally rusted wrought iron balcony on the second floor and knocked on the little green door, just as the first soft timpani of thunder rolled across the darkened sky.
The door opened and there stood Cee Cee in a bright yellow house dress and a huge smile across her face, stretching her smooth, dark skin. She was sixty-two years old, but looked at least fifteen years younger. Before I could put down my bags, she gave me a strong, crushing hug. She was a big woman with an even bigger heart.
“Come in, my baby!” she said as she ushered me in, grabbing one of my suitcases. I stepped into her apartment, taking quick notice of the sky lighting overhead. Despite the growing darkness outside, the natural light that remained shone down upon an old floral-print sofa and a cherry wood coffee table. The aroma of mustard greens was abundant in the small apartment, and it smelled good, like home-cooking should.
“How was your trip in?”
“It was nice. I made pretty good time with the traffic.”
“Ain’t that nice! Come, I’ll show you to your room.” I followed her through the small living room. In one tiny corner, there was a makeshift altar set up against the wall. It was an old wooden crate draped with white linen. There were two white candles at the back of the altar surface. Hanging on the wall, in between the candles, was a small framed replica of a Renaissance Virgin Mary. In the middle of the altar was an incense burner and, to the right of that, a bowl of water. To the left of the burner was a dish of what looked like salt.
Cee Cee led me down the short hallway which had three doors that led to two bedrooms and a bathroom. She opened the door on the left. “I hope it’ll be okay. This one used to belong to my sister Lornette and me when we were growing up.”
“Oh, no. It’s fine. I appreciate you putting me up while I’m here.”
“No, thank you!” she said as she turned on the light. We entered the small bedroom. “Believe me, I’ll enjoy the company!” She put my suitcase on the floor near the doorway. I put my other suitcase on top of the bed. “I’ll just let you get settled. Come meet me when you’re done. I have some supper waiting for you.” She started to leave.
“Oh, wait!” I said, as I reached for the suitcase on the bed. I quickly unzipped it and took out a small plastic container. I handed it to Cee Cee. “This is from Maw Maw. She made you some divinity candy.”
Cee Cee took the container from me with a grin on her face. “Oh, my! She didn’t have to do that!” she said, delighted.
“I think she’s under the impression that I can be stubborn and hard to handle at times and wanted to butter you up,” I teased.
“Hmm. You must be really hard-headed because this candy hard to make,” she teased back. “Unpack and we’ll have supper when you ready.”
“Okay. I’ll be out in a couple of minutes. Thanks.”
Still smiling, she left my temporary bedroom, closing the door behind her. I took in my new surroundings. It was a very small room; the bed and one small dresser took up the bulk of it. A tiny nightstand with a skinny lamp on top stood in the corner, on the left side of the bed. The bed spread was kelly green with tulips embroidered on it. Over the bed was a tiny window. The wallpaper, white with black fleur-de-lis, had peeled in several places. I remembered the bathroom had similar wallpaper, but that one was a red background with gold fleur-de-lis. Despite the obvious age of the room, I could tell Cee Cee took special care to clean it before I came.
I unpacked a couple of things, but was too hungry and impatient to finish. I joined Cee Cee in the kitchen in time to see her draining the greens.
“Can I help with anything?” I asked.
“You can get the meatloaf out the oven if you don’t mind.”
I spied a whimsical alligator pot holder and used that to pull the loaf from the oven and set it down on top of the stove near a dish of cornbread I hadn’t noticed before. It all looked so delicious, and my stomach was growling in seconds.
“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble for me,” I said, a little embarrassed.
“Hush! Having you here is a real treat. It gives me an excuse to cook for someone again.” She said this with a little sadness at the end. I remembered Clothilde telling me that Cee Cee’s husband died several years ago. When I had asked her how, she shrugged it off, like there was a lot to the story, and she didn’t want to discuss it any further.
“Well, thank you.” I smiled shyly at her.
The meal was even better than it looked. Just when I thought I couldn’t eat another bite, Cee Cee brought out pecan pie for dessert. She was embarrassed to admit to me that it was store-bought, but from one of the best bakeries in town, not a supermarket. I assured her that it was fine and I would have been upset if she had lifted another finger for me. We ate and laughed. She was a well of quips and witty stories of her life in New Orleans. She mentioned Clothilde several times and always with great admiration.
I went to bed a couple of hours after supper. I thought I would sleep well on a full stomach, but I tossed and turned too much. I thought it was sleeping in a different bed that had me doing this, but it was a steadily building uneasy fee
ling about what would happen tomorrow. I was going to meet a total stranger who would explain to me the art of the Traiteur, and I didn’t know if I would be able to keep up. I had only learned of my role as a paladin a few months ago. How was I supposed to battle Les Foncés, the Dark Ones?
My mind raced with thoughts of destiny and responsibility until sleep finally came about an hour-and-a-half after my head hit the pillow. I dreamed of my mother. She was in a boat on Lake Martin, back in Acadiana. She was trying to tell me something but I couldn’t hear her over the sound of the strong wind that made the water ripple and the Spanish moss dance around the trees.
When I woke up, I felt very rested and peaceful. The little clock on the nightstand told me it was almost nine. There was a gentle rain tapping at the window over my head, and the sun was mostly out. A few birds were singing, and it had all the promise of a wonderful day ahead. But I still couldn’t shake those nerves about meeting my new trainer.
When I got up, Cee Cee wasn’t there, but she had left a note for me in the kitchen on the refrigerator. It was held up with a magnet in the shape of a crawfish:
DOWNSTAIRS IN THE SHOP. MUFFINS ON THE STOVE. TEA IN THE ICEBOX.
Seeing the word icebox made me smile. Clothilde still said icebox instead of fridge, too. I guessed Cee Cee’s generation would be the last to use that word. I opened the icebox and grabbed the pitcher of sweet tea, just like Clothilde makes. I poured myself a glass and grabbed a blueberry muffin. When I was done with both, I took a shower, got dressed and went downstairs to Cee Cee’s shop.
Everyone called the store “Cee Cee’s,” even though it had no name on the door or the window. The only writing to be seen was the street number, 1023, over the door.
I came in through the back door that opened to the alleyway. When I walked in, I saw there were numerous jars, mostly recycled—everything from pickle jars to baby food jars that seemed old enough that I could have been fed from them. There were herbs and other mysterious dry ingredients lining shelves that were bolted to the walls. There was a thin layer of dust everywhere and a small, rusted sink by a little, grimy window. Against one of the walls was an old set of washing and drying machines with an empty laundry basket on top of the dryer. The washer was currently occupied with today’s laundry.
I walked into the front of the store. The main room looked much like the store room, but with less dust and a lot more shelves. I saw Cee Cee at the front counter, watching a little black and white TV that rested on a wooden stool. From what I heard, it sounded like she was watching the Judge Mathis Show. She laughed loudly at something the judge said. She looked up when she saw me enter.
“Well good mornin’ to ya!” she said with a big grin.
“Morning. Thanks for the muffins and tea.”
“Aw, I make those just about every morning. Don’t thank me for that. Did you sleep good?”
“Not at first, but when I did get to sleep, I woke up feeling great.” Cee Cee held her head high and smiled to herself. “What did you do?” I teased.
“Nothin’.”
I eyeballed her.
“I heard you mumbling in your sleep. I tip-toed in your room and put a little something under your pillow to relax you.”
“What did you put? What was it?”
“Don’t worry about that. It worked and that’s all that matters.”
“Tell me it isn’t something that used to be an animal.”
She chuckled. “No, my baby! We don’t sacrifice animals in New Orleans Voodoo. At least we haven’t for many years now.”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Miles is out running errands right now, but he should be home soon. Then you can go over to his house.”
“Miles? Clothilde never told me his name.”
Cee Cee saw that I was a bit nervous. “Don’t worry, honey. He a nice man. Have his ways, though. But don’t let that make you worry about it. He’ll be good to you. He’s the best one to teach you. That’s why Clothilde sent you to him.” But Cee Cee sounded a little uncertain at this last part.
“Would you have sent me to him?”
She paused as she carefully thought her words through. “I think Clothilde made the right decision,” she said slowly, and then changed the subject again. “Now! It’s your first full day in New Orleans. You haven’t been here in a long time. We should go get some beignets at Café Du Monde’s.”
“I just ate a muffin. I couldn’t—”
“Well, I want some, and I’m going to make you eat at least one. You look too skinny as it is,” she teased, smiling.
“What about the store?”
“That’s all right. Nobody ever come in here before noon anyway. If they need somethin’, they know where to find me. If they don’t know where to find me, then they can just wait.”
She got up and turned off the TV. At that moment, the hanging bell over the front door jingled and someone stepped in. She was young, maybe in her mid-twenties. She was dark-skinned and gorgeous and wore a short, navy blue jacket over a kelly green dress that showed off her long brown legs. Around her neck was a Tiger’s Eye pendant hanging from a silver chain, and she carried a periwinkle blue Boho style bag on her shoulder. Her dark blue eyes shot straight to me, suspicious. I noticed Cee Cee brace herself and, without yet a word spoken, there was already tension in the room.
“Who’s she?” said the young woman, looking me up and down, but addressing Cee Cee.
“I told you Miss Clothilde’s granddaughter was coming to stay with me for awhile. This is Leigh Benoit. Leigh? This is my niece Ruby,” she said, trying to sound cheerful.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, but didn’t extend my hand to shake. Something told me she wouldn’t have accepted anyway.
Ruby nodded in my direction, accepting my existence, and then turned to Cee Cee. “I need some zoorie,” she told her.
“More?”
“Yes, more! Do you have any?”
“I have some in the back.”
Ruby walked with a huff to the store room. I looked at Cee Cee with questioning eyes. “She’s a good girl. Just have a chip on her shoulder sometime,” she whispered to me.
“Looks like a big chip,” I whispered back.
“I need a little brick dust, too,” called Ruby from the store room.
“Help y’self,” Cee Cee called back.
Ruby stepped back into the main part of the store where we were. “Already did,” she said. She looked at me again and then back at Cee Cee. “Miles should be back at his house now. I guess you could send her over.”
“We were just about to go to Du Monde’s. Wanna join us?” asked Cee Cee.
“I don’t have time for that. I have more important things to do,” said Ruby, as she exited, letting the door swing shut behind her.
I looked at Cee Cee and arched one eyebrow.
“She takes some getting used to. She’ll warm up to you sooner or later.”
“I’m sure it’ll be later rather than sooner.”
Cee Cee laughed. “I’m sure that’s right! Now let’s go get them beignets.”
The rain had stopped, so Cee Cee and I walked the few blocks to Du Monde’s. We passed St. Louis cathedral first, since she practically lived next door to it. A magnificent church with three towering steeples, it is the most recognizable structure in New Orleans.
As we strolled along the cobbled-stone street, I was relieved that Hurricane Katrina hadn’t done much damage to the Quarter. There was no sign a hurricane was ever there. The lower Ninth Ward told another story, though. Several years after the hurricane and they still hadn’t restored it completely. People were still scattered across the country, some vowing not to return, others wanting to return but nothing to go back to. While the Quarter still looked the same, the atmosphere was slightly different from when I was last there. It was like New Orleans’ gumbo mix was missing one of its ingredients.
It was a short wait for a table since most tourists hadn’t begun to arrive in the city
for the Mardi Gras festivities yet—that would be a few more weeks. The beignets were delicious, like I had remembered them. I found myself licking the powdered sugar from my fingers after I finished with the little fried pastry. Cee Cee and I talked over coffee for a few minutes. Occasionally, we heard the clip-clop of a horse-drawn carriage passing by, while a jazz band serenaded the brunch crowd from around the corner of the famous Café Du Monde.
Noticing that I was a bit nervous, Cee Cee kept trying to reassure me that learning from Miles was the best thing for me. But it sounded more like she was trying to convince herself. By the time I would leave New Orleans, I was to understand why she seemed uncomfortable when I mentioned his name that day.
3
Meeting the Master
After our coffee, Cee Cee and I walked back to the shop, and she gave me directions to Miles’ house. I was impressed to find out he lived in the Garden District, which was New Orleans’ priciest neighborhood.
When I arrived at the address, I had to make a mental note to ask Cee Cee what it was that Miles did for a living. I knew Traiteurs didn’t charge for their services, so I had no idea how this man could afford the mansion that loomed before me. I had to check the address a couple of times on the slip of paper she gave me to make sure I had the right place. It was huge, at least twice as big as the other houses on the block. It sat on a corner lot with one house to the left that was a good size in its own right but dwarfed in comparison to the mansion beside it. The lot was surrounded by a black wrought iron fence with typical fleur-de-lis lining the top. The house was set far back in the lot, giving it a large lawn that was perfectly trimmed and kept. There were no flowers, but there were plenty of trees that seemed to almost hide the house, which was painted a dark gray. It looked very gloomy, especially given that the house was in French Gothic style, resembling a chateau somewhere in the French countryside.
Nancy K. Duplechain - Dark Trilogy 02 - Dark Carnival Page 2
