Under the Bayou Moon

by Valerie Fraser Luesse

  With the pot of chicken and rice heating up, she pulled a log from one of the fireplace bins. The days were still warm, but nights were growing chilly, especially with the rain. Raphe came into the front room and took the log from her, then gathered a few more and built a fire to warm the cabin. Rain was pelting the roof now, and thunder was rolling in.

  He sat down on the floor and leaned against the hearth. Ellie had never seen anyone look so exhausted, not just from work but from the weight of responsibility for Remy, which he shouldered mostly alone—likely his own choice, since Kitty seemed willing enough to help. But there was something more. Raphe didn’t just look tired—he looked neglected, from his rumpled clothes to his uncut hair to the hint of dark circles under his eyes.

  “I know we need to get out o’ here and give you back your home,” he said. “But could Remy stay until it stops raining? His face feels so warm. I could leave and wait for the rain to stop. Then I could come back and take him home.”

  Ellie sat down next to him on the floor. “That oughta keep you busy till around midnight. When’s the last time you ate?”

  Raphe shrugged. “Sometime this afternoon.”

  “Why don’t you let me fix you some supper, and then you can sleep on that bed under the window? I’ll stay in the room with Remy—I’m already used to giving him his medicine and checking his temperature every four hours. We’ll all feel better in the morning.”

  “I couldn’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s not fair to you. You taught school and then you took him to Doc’s and you’ve had him all day and night. We need to go and let you get back to what you want to do.”

  “And what exactly could I be doing at nine o’clock in the middle of a bayou when it’s pouring rain?”

  He smiled at her. “Good time to catch frogs.”

  “I’m all stocked up.”

  Raphe ran his fingers through his wet hair.

  “Let me get you a towel,” Ellie said, but he put his hand on her shoulder.

  “Don’t get up,” he said. “The fire’ll dry it. You’re as tired as I am.”

  “I doubt that. I’ll be back.” She went into the kitchen and came back with a towel, a plate of chicken bog with crusty bread, and a glass of tea.

  “I have to eat your cooking if I want to stay?” He grinned at her as he ran the towel over his wet hair.

  Ellie sat back down next to him. “Eat it and brag on it.”

  “Then I guess it must be done.”

  Raphe tasted the dish, then took a second bite. “Is this Tante Dodo’s chicken bog?”

  “She taught me how to make it.”

  “Maman used to say that if you want to learn one of Tante Dodo’s dishes, you’d better hide under her table and watch her make it, because when she gives you the recipe, she always leaves one thing out.”

  “I guess I’m special,” Ellie said. “She gave it to me straight. I’m trading some of the older ladies English lessons for cooking lessons. We meet at Tante Dodo’s on Sunday afternoons.”

  “How long you been doing that?”

  “A little while now. It’s important to them to help their grandchildren speak English at home. And I figure y’all won’t let me stay in Louisiana if I can’t cook your food. I didn’t want the ladies giving me what little money they have, so a trade seemed in order.”

  “This is very good.”

  “Merci. And you could sound a little less surprised.”

  “I’m not surprised that you can cook,” he said, looking at Ellie. “I’m just surprised that you would take on such a thing, with all you have to do already. Nobody but you would give up your own time to help the ladies like that.”

  “I think I’m the one getting the most out of it,” she said. “What those women know—not just about cooking food but about really feeding people, making them feel good inside—that’s what I wish I could learn.”

  “I think you already did.”

  Ellie smiled at him. “My food’s not as good as theirs.”

  “Your food is very good. But that’s not the point, is it?” He took a bite of the bread and had a long drink of tea.

  “Raphe, how on earth do you manage all of this? I mean, the mechanical work on the shrimpers and the fishing with Leo and looking after Remy . . .”

  He took another drink of his tea. “Some days—like today—I don’t. I guess I just do the best I can to take care of Remy and hope it’s enough.”

  “But who—who takes care of you?”

  Most of the vets Ellie had dated back home had looked at her like they were picturing her raising their babies. And here was Raphe raising one on his own, with just occasional help from his sister. Ellie found herself wondering what it would feel like to be the one he leaned on.

  Raphe turned to look at her. His lips were parted as if he we were searching for words. “I don’t have any—”

  “Nonc! Nonc!”

  Raphe jumped slightly at Remy’s panicked call. He and Ellie hurried to the bedroom.

  Remy’s face was flushed a deep red, and his eyes looked glassy. “My head hurts, Nonc,” he said as Raphe laid his hand against Remy’s face.

  “He’s burning up,” he said to Ellie, who was already shaking the thermometer.

  “Here, sweetheart, let us check your fever, and we’ll figure out how to make you feel all better.” Ellie slipped the thermometer into Remy’s mouth, trying her best to mimic Doc’s reassuring voice. She and Raphe impatiently waited as they gave the thermometer time to do its work. “It’s 103,” Ellie said as she read it. “We have to get him to Doc’s.”

  “It’s pouring rain,” Raphe said.

  “Do we have time for you to go get Doc and bring him here?” Ellie knew the answer but thought it best to let Raphe come to it himself. She watched as he studied Remy’s face and calculated the distance.

  “No,” he said.

  Ellie headed for the wardrobe in her bedroom. “You douse the fires, and I’ll gather up some quilts to try and keep Remy as dry as we can.”

  Raphe hurried into the front room and took care of the fires. When he returned, Ellie had Remy wrapped in one quilt and was preparing another. Raphe helped her cover his nephew and picked him up as Ellie grabbed more covers on the way out the door.

  At the porch, Raphe stopped her. “You can’t go out in this.”

  “I can’t not go—I couldn’t stand it.” She covered her head and shoulders with Mama Jean’s wrap and draped a quilt over Raphe’s head and shoulders to try to protect him from the rain. They ran for the dock, where Raphe carried Remy down the ladder on his shoulder, laid him in the boat, and then reached up for Ellie and helped her down.

  Raphe sat on the back seat to steer, quickly starting the motor and guiding them into the bayou, as Ellie sat at his feet and pulled Remy onto her lap, holding him tightly against her. Raphe took off the quilt she had draped over him and covered her with it.

  They raced down the bayou to the same channel Raphe and Heywood had used to show Ellie the Atchafalaya. Raphe quickly snaked through it to the open water, where Ellie could see lightning in the sky and prayed it wouldn’t strike the boat before they could get to shelter. The wind was picking up, making the river choppy. Now and again the bow of the bass boat would rear up out of the water, forcing Raphe to slow down to keep them steady. Just as the channel of the river narrowed, a bolt of lightning struck a tree on the bank, splitting it in two and setting it on fire. Ellie cried out and felt Raphe’s hand squeeze her shoulder through the quilt.

  Finally, the river narrowed still more, and Raphe pulled up to a long dock jutting into the water. The homes here had electricity, but the storm had apparently knocked down a power line because the bank of the river was dark. Raphe tied up the boat and took Remy from Ellie, laying his nephew over his shoulder. Then he reached for Ellie’s hand and pulled her up, helping her onto the ladder before climbing up himself. They ran to the porch of a two-story house, which Ellie could
barely make out until they were right in front of it. She knocked as loud as she could.

  Soon Florence, wearing her nightgown and robe and holding a kerosene lamp, opened the door. “Oh my goodness! Come in out of the weather! Is that Remy?”

  “He’s really sick, Florence,” Ellie said, her voice shaking with worry. “His fever’s 103.”

  “Hurry in and let’s get him dry!” Florence said. “Take this lamp and carry him upstairs to that first bedroom on the left. I’ll get Doc.”

  Raphe and Ellie ran upstairs with Remy and carried him into the bedroom Florence had directed them to. Ellie pulled back the covers and helped Raphe remove the wet quilts around Remy before they put him into bed. His T-shirt was still dry, thanks to all the cover. They could hear Doc hurrying up the stairs as they stood helplessly, looking down at the flushed child in the bed.

  In a minute Doc came into the room, his medical bag in hand. “You two look worse than Remy.”

  Raphe and Ellie glanced at each other, both of them soaking wet, their clothes clinging to their bodies and dripping water on the floor.

  “I’m sorry we dripped all over your house!” Ellie said to Florence, who was just joining them. She had brought in a stack of towels.

  “I’m not a bit worried about this house,” Florence said. “But if y’all don’t get dry, you’ll catch the pneumonia, and then you’ll be sicker than poor Remy here.” She handed towels to Raphe and Ellie, who began absently drying off as they watched Doc examine Remy.

  “Doc, he keeps c-c-complaining about his h-head,” Ellie said. “Nothing seems to-to help it.” She was shivering uncontrollably.

  Raphe wrapped another dry towel around Ellie and put his arms around her, trying to warm her. They looked on as Doc listened to Remy’s heart and lungs, then took some pills out of his medical bag and helped Remy swallow them. Doc gave him two spoonfuls of a liquid medicine with water before tucking the covers tightly around him.

  “Raphe, could you start a fire for me?” Doc asked him.

  Raphe looked down at Ellie, still shivering in his arms. “We’ll get you warm soon,” he whispered to her before letting go to build a fire.

  As he finished, Florence, who had stepped out for a few minutes, came back into Remy’s room. She pointed to Ellie and Raphe. “You two, come with me.”

  “But, Florence—” Ellie began.

  “No buts. You won’t be any good to Remy if you’re in the hospital. Both of you, follow me.” Florence led Raphe and Ellie to two bedrooms at the end of the hallway. “Ellie, you’re over there.” She pointed to the room in the left corner. “Raphe, that’s you on the right. My nephew is about your size, and he left some clothes the last time he stayed in that room. You put those on and hang your wet things by the fire to dry. Ellie, you’ll have to make do with my old-lady clothes, but at least they’ll keep you from freezing to death while your things dry. You can come back in and see Remy when you’re done.”

  “We c-can’t th-thank you enough,” Ellie said.

  “Merci, Florence,” Raphe said.

  Ellie was shaking so hard that her muscles hurt. She peeled off her wet clothes and spread them over a rocking chair in front of the fire Florence had built and then put on the long nightgown and thick floral cotton robe spread out on the bed.

  She gave herself a couple of minutes to warm her hands over the fire and then opened her bedroom door to find Raphe about to knock on it. Ellie gasped, not just from surprise at seeing him there but also at his attire. Florence had assigned him a pair of khakis and a pink camp shirt.

  Ellie shook her head and smiled. “I may never be the same.”

  They hurried down the hall to Remy’s room, where Doc was labeling two vials of blood. Remy had fallen asleep and was sweating.

  “I’ll get these to the hospital lab in Lafayette first thing in the morning,” Doc said, sealing the vials in white boxes, which he carefully labeled.

  “Why the blood?” Raphe asked him.

  Doc stood up, took off his glasses, and cleaned them with a handkerchief. “I’m just being extra cautious. Some of my other patients also complained of a headache, but none as severe as Remy’s.” He put his glasses back on. “Occasionally, a virus like this can turn into meningitis—”

  “Meningitis?” Ellie had heard horror stories of what it could do to children.

  “Now, now,” Doc said, “it’s perfectly treatable when it’s viral. The bacterial kind is what you really have to worry about. If Remy has it, I’m ninety percent sure it’s connected to this virus going around, so we can manage it, but it is more serious. Meningitis would account for his ferocious headache. Then again, that might just be his reaction to the same thing everybody else has, but I want to be sure.”

  “You must be exhausted, Doc,” Ellie said.

  He gave her a weary smile. “I knew what I was getting into when I hung out my shingle. It just pains me to see so many sick children in our community. And you two look like you’re about to fall over. Remy ought to sleep through the night—what’s left of it anyway. We’ll leave a lamp burning low so he won’t be scared if he wakes up, and let’s keep his door open. Y’all leave yours open too, and you’ll be able to hear him if he cries. Everybody try to get some rest. Tomorrow might be longer than today. Good night.”

  “’Night, Doc,” Ellie said.

  “Bonsoir, Doc,” Raphe said.

  They went to Remy’s bedside and stood there, watching him breathe and listening for sounds of distress, but he was peaceful now. Without taking his eyes off Remy or saying a word, Raphe reached for Ellie’s hand, lifted it to his mouth, and kissed it.

  TWENTY-THREE

  “NONC! I CAN’T WAKE UP, NONC! HELP ME!”

  Ellie sat bolt upright in bed. Remy. She grabbed Florence’s robe and hurried down the hall just in time to see Raphe rush into his nephew’s room, sit down on the edge of the bed, and wrap his arms around the boy.

  “It’s alright, Remy,” Raphe was saying. “You’re not dreaming. You’re just in a strange place. See? Miss Ellie’s here.”

  Ellie knelt down on the floor next to Raphe so Remy could see them both. “How do you feel, sweetheart?” she asked Remy, who still seemed confused.

  “You sure I’m not still dreaming, Nonc?” He rubbed his eyes and looked around. “I dreamed I went home with Miss Ellie, and then you came and we went out on the bayou in a big storm.”

  Raphe felt Remy’s face. “You weren’t dreaming, Remy. We just didn’t know you were awake because your fever was so high.”

  Remy looked from Raphe to Ellie. “Where are we?”

  “We spent the night at Doc’s,” Raphe said. “You remember getting sick at school?”

  “No, Nonc.”

  “Well, you did. And Miss Ellie carried you to Doc’s office and then took you home with her. You were very sick when I got there, and we had to bring you here even though it was storming out.”

  Now Remy’s eyes were wide. “You mean I really went on the bayou at night in a big storm?”

  Raphe smiled at him. “You did. We all did.”

  “Miss Ellie too?”

  “Miss Ellie too.”

  Remy stared at her, squinting, as if he were piecing it all together. Suddenly, he pointed at her. “You told me the story of the white alligator!”

  “You did?” Raphe said.

  “I tried,” Ellie said. “But I’m not as good at storytelling as Nonc, am I, Remy?”

  “You did fine,” he assured her.

  “Thank you for that.” She reached up and stroked Remy’s forehead. “We had to do something to pass the time in that waiting room, didn’t we, sweetie?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Doc and Florence came into Remy’s room, still in their nightclothes and robes. Ellie and Raphe got out of the way so Doc could examine Remy.

  “Still got a touch of fever,” Doc said as he read the thermometer. He listened to Remy’s heart and lungs with his stethoscope. “There’s some congestion. How�
�s your headache, son?”

  “Just about gone,” Remy said.

  “Well, that’s a good sign,” Doc told Raphe and Ellie, who were standing by the fireplace, anxiously looking on. “But I still think we need to get his blood samples to Lafayette just to be on the safe side.”

  “You gotta stick me with a needle?” Remy’s eyes were wide with alarm.

  “I already did that, Remy, while you were sleeping,” Doc assured him. He joined Raphe and Ellie at the fireplace. “Let’s go downstairs and have some breakfast, and then I’ll leave right away.”

  “Doc, I think I should go,” Raphe said. “You been up half the night, and your office is gonna be full today.”

  “No!” Remy cried from his bed. “Don’t leave me, Nonc!”

  Raphe sighed and rubbed his forehead. Ellie realized he must have been torn like this a million times, trying to figure out how to be in two places at once.

  She went to the child’s bedside and sat down. “You know, Remy, we both missed an awful lot in school yesterday. I was going to tell all you boys and girls a story about a Chitimacha Indian chief whose people once lived all along the river. He was such a great warrior that they say even the alligators were afraid of him!”

  “Vrai?”

  “Absolutely,” Ellie said. “Tell you what. Let’s have some breakfast, and then we’ll let Nonc go to Lafayette so Doc can rest up to look after any of our neighbors who get sick like you did. While Nonc’s gone, I’ll tell you the story of the Indian chief, and then you can tell him all about it when he gets back.” She leaned in and whispered so only Remy could hear: “Nonc really needs our help today. Let’s do what we can to make this easier for him.”

  Remy smiled at her and nodded.

  “Good, that’s settled!” Florence said. “Let’s have some breakfast.”

  ELLIE HELPED FLORENCE wash the breakfast dishes as Raphe told Remy goodbye. He came back downstairs wearing his own clothes, dried by the fire, and thanked Florence again for her hospitality. Ellie walked him to Doc’s car, where he laid the small cooler holding Remy’s blood samples on the front seat and then turned to her.