“That’s so sad,” I replied, watching the emotions on his face.
“She was extremely strong willed, and had already taken in a widow and a small orphaned boy. She had an extremely caring heart, my Marie-Claire,” his voice broke as he whispered her name.
My heart skipped a beat. “Marie…Marie-Claire as in…Marie-Claire Johnson? The judge’s daughter, who built my house?” I asked incredulously.
He shut his eyes and nodded slowly. “The same.”
“But why…why didn’t you tell me? Why did you keep this a secret all of this time?” I asked, irritated with him.
“Because I didn’t know. I didn’t meet her here; we were down just north of Clinton. She found me on the battlefield there. She was staying with one of the widows who she’d befriended, and she told me her plantation was over-run with Yankee wounded. The small farmhouse where she was hiding out was outside of Clinton, and I never found out where her plantation was or what her family name was.
“Why not?” I asked, mesmerized by his account.
“I guess I might as well weave it all out for you, you know you are the only person on the earth I’ve ever told this story to. I’ve kept it over one hundred and fifty years.”
“Your mother never knew about her?” I asked, almost in tears sensing the raw emotion that seemed to radiate from him.
“She knew, but I never told her the whole story or any of the details. After I told her of my broken heart and the loss of my true love, we never spoke of it again. Aldon, Bebe…Aldon love fiercely. That love, it never dies. Never diminishes over time. The pain of loss doesn’t fade, like it does for a human.” He smiled sadly and touched my cheek.
Everett sighed, and then began slowly, like he’d transported himself back in time…
When I finally roused to full consciousness the next day my wounds were almost fully healed. I glanced around. I was in a small cabin, a dogtrot cabin, no more than two or three rooms, I guessed. I spotted her in the corner…my dark beauty, the angel who had come to me on the battlefield. I thought I’d only dreamed of her, but there she was.
I asked her, almost in a whisper… “Who…who are you?”
“My name is Marie. Marie-Claire. I’m a widow, and I’m living here with these two other women until it is safe to go home. I found you yesterday after the battle. What is your name, Sir?” she asked.
I began to rise, and she cautioned me. “Stay in bed, you still need to rest. I know you are an Aldon, but you aren’t fully healed yet. And there are Yankees around, looking for stray confederates like you. They took many prisoners, but some of them escaped, and they are turning every household upside down looking for them,” she cautioned.
I smiled at her. “My name is Everett. Everett Lee Samuels. If you know I’m an Aldon, you needn’t worry. I can take care of myself with these mere mortal Yankee soldiers.”
“That’s just it, Captain. There is more afoot than soldiers,” she replied in her soft, sweet southern drawl. By this point, I was mesmerized. The way she moved, she was so graceful, everything about her was swanlike. As she moved about the room, straightening up, plumping my pillows, straightening my bed linens, checking my wounds, I found myself attracted to her like I’d never been by a woman before. I watched her silently as she worked.
“What more is there…how did you know I’m an Aldon?” I asked her.
“Elois. She is a young Creole maid I brought with me. She is schooled in the voodoo ways, and she said you were ‘C’est bon Loogaroo’ the first night I brought you here. She cautioned me the Yankees have many like you, and they would be able to sense your presence. She urged me to get rid of you as soon as possible.
“How does she know there are Aldon in the Yankee ranks?” I asked.
“Not Aldon, but the others…the ones she calls “The guilty ones. Orcos Loogaroo,” she replied, almost in a whisper. “She says you will draw them here, and then I… my baby and I will be in danger,” she finished as my eyes widened.
“You are with child?” I asked, glancing at her tummy. I hadn’t noticed before, but her skirts did look a bit full around her middle, compared to her tiny torso and arms.
“Yes, I am…well along. I haven’t but two months to go before the little one comes. Ms. Eloise, she says I am to birth twins, but I don’t know how she can tell.” She lowered her eyes, like she was ashamed to tell me.
“When was your husband killed?” I asked softly as she sat down in the rocker at my bedside.
“I received word about a month ago, but I don’t know how long he’d been gone, before…” her voice began to shake as she relayed the series of events.
“I’m so sorry for your loss. Do you have family, or his people, who you can go to?” I asked her, suddenly afraid for her burden.
“My husband has no family here in the South. He has an aunt up North. My mother and father live close by, but they’re up in Savannah, staying with friends until things calm down here. I refused to go with them. I wanted to stay near my beloved Hiriam. Now he is gone, I will be traveling to be with my parents after the baby is born.”
“It’s not safe for you here; no women are safe here without men to protect them,” I asserted as she shook her head.
“There is a Yankee captain who has been by here before. He has assured me we will not be harmed as long as his men are in the area. It’s only the Orcos who they have in their ranks, who hunt the prisoners. They are the ones who we are frightened of, and some local Orcos have joined in their search. There is a band of them who roam the countryside. They have been drawn here, Ms. Eloise says, because of the carnage…of all the blood on the battlefield. She says the dead make easy feeding,” she shuddered, imagining the picture in her head.
I reached out and took her hand and held it as she turned to look at me. Her eyes were so beautiful, I caught my breath, and I knew…I was in love with her. I’d never felt this way before, ever. I struggled with my thoughts…which question to voice next.
“If there is so much carnage, blood on the battlefield, easy feeding…Why are you afraid of the Orcos? Are they a threat to you, for a reason?” I asked her softly.
“Eloise seems to think so, because of the baby,” she replied, fear apparent in her eyes.
“Why? Why would they want the baby?”
“Eloise thinks I’m having twins, and the Orcos will want them. She says twins possess special powers, and are two parts of the same soul, that they each retain half. The Orcos believe as the Creole Voodoo worshipers do, spirits, either good or evil, will inhabit the other half of the soul. She says they believe if the spirit is good, the baby will be a threat to them. If it is an evil spirit, then the child can be used to their advantage,” She became silent, and as I watched her, I realized the level of fear she had for her unborn babies.
I’d already made up my mind in the short time I’d listened to her story that I had a new mission in life, that I had a new purpose. I’d been brought up to believe I was put on this earth for one purpose… to use my talents and abilities to help humans, and to be the protector our name proclaimed us to be. The cause ceased to exist, the cause I’d fought so hard for these past three years. My cause was suddenly this beautiful young girl I saw before me.
The next few days, I gained my strength back. I had to go hunting. Obviously I didn’t have a butcher friend handy to help me with my food source. In those days I had to be self-sufficient. I left the small cabin several times over the next days, hunting in the nearby woods and fields, killing small animals. When I fully regained my strength, I killed a deer, and after I’d had my fill, I brought the meat back to the cabin to cure and store for her and the ladies living with her.
Marie made a venison stew with some of the meat. After we’d all eaten, the other ladies retired for the evening, and the small orphan boy she’d taken in sat playing in the floor at her feet.
“Marie, if I can arrange for a buckboard or wagon and horses, would you agree for me to take you to stay with my mother and g
randmother before I go back to my regiment? I know I couldn’t get you through to your father, but the way to N’awlins would be the easiest. You would be safe there,” I asked as she sat knitting.
“I don’t know. I don’t think you can find…” she began.
“Believe me, I can. I have many friends down in N’awlins. I can get there and back in no time. I will take you back there, and you can stay with my mother and grandmother until it is safe for you to return.”
“I could never ask you to do that, they don’t even know me,” she replied as she covered my hand with hers. My heart leapt. Her touch set me on fire. I could imagine taking her in my arms, kissing her…But I knew she thought of me as an Aldon. A blood-drinker. She wasn’t afraid of me, I was sure, but she would certainly be repulsed by what I was and how I lived. I was tormented, I was so afraid she saw me for what I was, and not how I wanted to be.
“My mother would love to take you and your maid, your widow friend, and the lad here…she would love and protect you, until we could get you to your father. You saved me, helped me to heal. Now let me help you. Think about it. I can leave day after tomorrow and secure a wagon for you and the others to travel in.”
“I…let me think about it. I would need to get word to my father…”she trailed off as she stood. She tried to take a step, and was unsteady on her feet. She tripped over the toys the small boy played with in the floor, and became tangled in her skirts. I was up in a flash to catch her before she hit the floor and injured herself. As I held her, time stood still. She looked up at me, and I was lost in the deep blue translucent pools fringed with thick, black lashes. I hesitated, my face only inches from hers. While I tried to keep my emotions in check, she did the unthinkable…she raised her lips to mine. I held my breath, not wanting to frighten her, and unsure I could control myself if I gave in. But the minute I began to move my lips, we were both swept away. I kissed her with a passion I’d only dreamed of, and she returned that passion, winding her arms around my neck as I pulled her into my chest.
We could hear gunfire and cannons that night. The war raged on, outside, just beyond the fields next to the little cabin which sheltered us. I kept my gun close by, and spent the night in the rocking chair with Marie-Claire safely in my arms. As I held her, I knew she was my heart’s true love. I’d never felt like that about anyone. As she slept, I could feel the tiny babies moving in her belly, and I fell in love with them as well. At dawn, I decided I had to sneak back to N’awlins for the supplies we would need for the trip to my mother’s house. Being an Aldon, it only took me a day to make it there, but it took a little over two days coming back; I had to stop frequently to hide the buckboard and horses I’d procured for the journey. When I arrived back at the cabin, the battles that had been fought close by had moved on, and the country looked deserted. As the buckboard pulled up outside, the small lad met me outside, his tear-stained face alarming me.
“What is it? What has happened?” I asked him as I shook his shoulders.
“The Missus, Suh, The Missus…she’s…” and he didn’t have to finish. I could hear the wails of Elois, the young Creole maid, from inside the cabin. I flung the door open, and my heart truly stopped beating.
Marie-Claire lay on the bed; the Orco bite glaringly apparent on her neck. Her dress was torn and bloodstained, and the two small babies who had been born just after lay wrapped in blankets beside her. According to her maid they’d lived about an hour after, and then died, their little lungs not fully developed. I turned and saw the rogue band of Orcos outside in the yard, and saw him…Lucien, the Ocro responsible for killing my beautiful Marie.
All I could see in front of me was blind, searing rage. I was so full of hate and hungry for revenge I saw no other course of action before me. I killed two of them instantly, and then I hunted Lucien for days, coming close several times to killing him but I was never able to finish the deed. When I finally gave up and returned to the cabin, it had been burned to the ground, and there was no sign Marie or her two baby girls had been buried. The Creole maid and her widow companion were long gone, and as I searched for them, the only thing I ever found to tie me to them was the small lad hidden in the woods. He was only four or five years old, and somehow he felt responsible for her death. He was an Aldon like me. He’d been orphaned when his Sange-Mele mother had been killed, and the Creole maid and Marie-Claire had taken him in. I took him to my mother and grandmother, and they raised him as their own. That is how Stephan came into our family.
I realized, after a few moments of silence, Everett had returned to the present. As I gazed at him, the one-hundred and fifty years of grief he’d suffered were painfully apparent on his face. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and his expression was as if the whole tragedy had just played out in the last few minutes. I reached up and cupped his cheek in my hand. I realized my own cheeks were wet with tears.
“You see, sweet Bebe, I know how you are suffering. I know the pain, the loss, the agony of knowing you are forever separated from your soul mate. To have loved that deeply, that completely, no matter for how short a time – you loved a lifetime. It only comes but once for most of us,” he finished sadly as he raised his eyes to mine.
We sat there several minutes, saying nothing, listening to the breeze sweeping through the trees beside the large fountain. I finally broke the silence.
“So you really aren’t gay?” I asked, the rude, absurd question breaking the ice. He chuckled his light, Everett chuckle.
“I can always count on you to make me laugh, Ma Petit. No, I’m not. I’m not anything, really. Ever since, I’ve walled my heart off from everyone. Friendship is the only thing I’ve let myself feel, since her. If I was ever going to fall for someone again, it would have probably been you, Bebe, but we were the best of friends instantly, and I instinctively knew that is what you needed from me,” he finished as he studied my face.
“Then why do you let everyone think…” I began.
“Being an ancient relic of the past, and as eccentric as I am, still possessing the Old South’s gentlemanly qualities, people just assume. I guess I could practice the ass-hole crotch scratching, cold-hearted jerk thing most men exude these days, to blend in, but that just isn’t me, Bebe. I fit in with Philippe’s crowd. They seem gentler, somehow.”
“Don’t you think it’s time to open yourself up to a new relationship?” I asked, wanting to see my best friend happy.
“If there was ever a terminal bachelor, it would be me. I’m too set in my ways. I might make an exception for Constance, but she’s just too much woman for me.” He smiled, and then placed a kiss on top of my head. “Besides, I’ve already fallen for someone, but she’s off-limits, so I’m doomed to unrequited love. Just as well, I’d probably scare her out of her wits!” He grinned down at me.
“Who? Everett, you have to tell me…” I began.
“No way, sweet girl. I’ll take it to the afterlife, if I have one, the good Lord and Mother Mary above willing. Now, let’s get you home. You have a story to finish, and the babies need rest, I think.” He pulled me from the bench and we walked arm in arm back to my SUV.
I studied him the entire way home. I saw him in a new light. I’d always thought of him as beautiful, his dishwater blonde hair, flawless complexion…he was almost too perfect. I realized how handsome he was, and my heart almost skipped a beat. He was so perfect --beautiful, thick eyelashes and very pouty lips for a man. I’d thought of him as gay for so long, I was almost having trouble processing the new information. After several moments he glanced sideways at me and laughed, putting his hand over mine.
“I absolutely love your inquisitiveness, Bebe. You know that is what makes you such a good writer.” He winked at me, and then drew my hand up and kissed the back of it.
“Everett, all this time…all the times you’ve seen me undress, at the shop, the nights you spent on the mattress on the floor, lay beside me on the bed…all that time, you were straight?” I asked incredulously, being slow
to process everything.
“I do feel a little guilty about that, but I assure you, my intentions toward you have always been as a best friend --a brother, really. I don’t want my telling you the truth to make you uncomfortable in any way. If this changes our little relationship, I’ll slap my mama and kiss John’s ass!” he exclaimed in the most flamboyant way. My Everett was back!
Chapter Seven
Our little outing did wonders for my spirits. Upon our arrival back at home, I spent an hour or so playing with Beau and giving him the attention he’d been lacking the past several weeks. Like me, he too had fallen into a state of depression. Although I knew he missed Banton, my mood was having a greater effect on him. After a romp in the living room with his favorite rubber ball, he followed me closely up the staircase to nap beside the bed on his rug.
“Okay, Bebe…I was just about to come in and give you one of my best lectures. I just won’t have you overdoing,” Everett scolded as he gained the top stair and drifted into my room. “Oh, and remember, Constance left to go to N’awlins with Aunt Sue. They’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Oh, Ev…I’m fine. I’m taking my afternoon nap like a good girl. I promise I’ll spend the next couple of days on bed rest, all right?”
“Yes, you will. Dr. Lane will have a fit if I let you do too much. We’ve worked so hard to get you this far. Now, can I get you anything before you nap?” He flitted about my room tidying up.
“No, Ev. I’m fine.”
“Are you going to work on your book?” he asked when I picked up my laptop.
“I just thought it might be good for me to work on it. It might help me to get sleepy. And about that…” I trailed off as I watched his expression.
Southern Spirits (The Southern Series Book 3) Page 10
