Southern Spirits

by Shelley Stringer

  Out of the darkness, I heard a familiar voice.

  “Mrs. Chandler, don’t you go a-givin in to dat trash Loogaroo, you got’s to fight him. I won’t let him win, you jes let me at him…” Mr. Jackson came out of the darkness, and swung a large two by four at the Tariq, striking him across the chest, causing him to release his hold on me. I sank down on the ground as Mr. Jackson continued to work him over. As the Tariq fell, Mr. Jackson pulled me from the ground, and then said firmly, “You wake up now, Mrs. Chandler. You’s all right, now. Dem babies, dey be all right, too. I’m here, now, and I’s ready to fight. I’s gonna protect you, now, so you go on ahead. Go on, now, Chile…”

  “Andie-girl, wake up. You’re dreaming…Oh, God, Everett. Everett, get up here!” John shouted as he pulled me up into his arms. I opened my eyes, and his face hovered over me as he held my head in his hands.

  “Can you hear me?” John asked as he frantically searched my eyes.

  “Yeah, you’re screaming, I hear you. What’s wrong?” I asked, wincing. My head was throbbing with every sound.

  “Andie, you are bleeding. How did you hurt yourself?” he asked disbelievingly.

  “I didn’t,” I began as I touched the side of my head, feeling the gash and wet blood in my hair.

  “Bebe…Oh, he’s back, isn’t he?” Everett asked from the doorway.

  “He who? What the hell is going on?” John demanded.

  “The Tariq. He stalks her in her dreams. I thought they’d stopped, and she had control. I guess we were wrong,” Everett said as John examined my head.

  He leaned back and called to Constance. “Bring me something to clean the wound and a bandage or sterile pad. I don’t think she needs a stitch, Everett?” John asked as Everett bent over me to examine the wound.

  “No, I think she’ll be all right. The blood looks worse than it really is. Head wounds tend to bleed a lot.” He stood back and looked into my eyes. “How is your vision?”

  “Fine. I’m fine. My head just throbs a little,” I replied.

  “Banton told me, when we were in N’awlins, that Andie had a stalker in her dreams, but I didn’t realize…” John began.

  “We’d been staying with her, either Banton or me, when she sleeps. We can usually wake her before the Tariq hurts her. I guess we’ll have to keep better watch,” Everett answered as Constance came back into the room, with the clean cloths and bandages. When she had me cleaned up and placed a bandage on the side of my forehead, John sat down beside me.

  “What is that smell? It smells like sewer,” he wrinkled his nose in disgust.

  “It is. That’s where we were, in the dream,” I answered.

  “And your mother was there,” Everett added. “I can smell her perfume.”

  John turned and gawked at Everett.

  “There was someone else there too, this time,” I replied softly. “Constance, you were right.” I began to tear up as I told them.

  “Right about what, Andie?” Constance asked.

  “About no one who is living is ever in my dreams. My mother took the babies, so I could fight the Tariq, like she always does. But when I started to lose the fight, Mr. Jackson showed up. He fought him, so I could get away,” I continued to cry as I glanced up at them. John sat down beside me on the bed and pulled me into his side, stroking my arms to comfort me.

  John continued to stay close, not letting me out of his sight. Constance went to bed early. I dozed on the bed, Everett watching me from a chair across the room, John beside me, lounged out on the bed. They spent the evening watching a baseball game on the television, bantering back and forth as they always did with their sports trivia. At bedtime, Everett’s phone signaled a text.

  “Oh, my fannie-ass, here’s another emergency,” Everett announced, reading the text.

  ‘What’s the matter?” John asked.

  “Oh, nothing…just an Aldon thing. I need to leave for a while. Can you stay here with Chandler?” he asked as he started out the door.

  “Sure, no problem. I have nowhere to go,” John answered, glancing down at me. He didn’t realize I was awake. I lay studying his face.

  “I’m sorry, John. I can get up and find something to do till Ev gets back. The Aldon are outside. I’m protected,” I stated, not wanting him to have to stay on my account.

  “No way. I’m staying. Besides, there isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be, I promise.” He pulled me in to hug me and kissed the top of my head. The shirt I wore slid off my shoulder, and the bite mark that had transformed me was visible, the jagged edges of the bite looking fresh since the dream.

  I glanced back up at John, and he lifted his hand toward me I felt my breath catch. He looked angry as he slowly traced the outline of the mark with his index finger. My skin burned where his fingers lingered. When he looked back into my eyes, my heart beat faster and my mouth was dry as though I were having a panic attack. I felt so strange. I’d never felt uncomfortable with John near, but now the closeness felt different.

  “Andie, is something wrong?” John asked, studying me.

  “No, no. Everything is fine,” I assured him as I took a deep breath. He reached up and pushed a stray strand of hair back behind my ear.

  “I can hear your heartbeat. Are you frightened?” he urged, his brow furrowed.

  “No, I’m fine. I just feel badly, I mean…you having to watch over me. The place is like Fort Knox, and well, the dream thing…I can find plenty to do till Everett gets back. He’s used to having to watch me, and he doesn’t sleep anyway.”

  John pulled back to look at me. “I was serious, Andie, when I said there was no place I’d rather be. This feels like home, and I’m not lonely when I’m with you. Sometimes, I can’t stand going down to our house alone at night. In the daytime it’s not so bad. I’m enjoying the remodel. But at night…I really miss Brie at night. I’m good when I’m here with you.” He leaned over and kissed me softly. I was so startled, I hardly breathed as he continued. “I love you, you know. You’ve been such a good friend, and you’ve been babysitting me in a way. So it’s good for both of us.” He slid his hand lightly down my check, caressing my skin with his fingers. I fought the desire to lean into his touch.

  “Then I’m glad…” I stammered, still not knowing what to say. His kiss had been like the kind between best friends, but my reaction wasn’t. What was wrong with me? I was so lonely. I missed Banton so much tonight it hurt. John continued to flip channels, settling on an old romantic black and white movie. Normally, it would have been my favorite kind of movie to watch, but lately I couldn’t stand to watch anything involving love or romance. It just made me sad. My chest began to ache like it had a large hole in it. I shut my eyes and silently began my nightly crying jag, snuggling down for the night.

  “Andie, are you hurting? What’s wrong?” John asked, stroking my bare shoulder.

  “I’m…nights are just hard. I do this, sometimes,” I replied softly.

  He pulled me back into his chest and wiped the tears from under my eyes. “I’m here, Andie. I’m not going anywhere. I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re alone. I’m here for you, darlin’.” He pulled my hair back and placed a soft kiss on my neck as he laid his cheek against mine on the pillow. His nearness was comforting, and I allowed myself to relax. I finally drifted off to sleep.

  Several hours later, I woke to the sound of John whispering softly in my ear.

  “Chandler, I think maybe I need to move.”

  My eyes snapped open as I realized the problem. My head lay on his shoulder, and I had my knee hitched across John’s midsection, much like Banton and I had always slept. The rather large bulge I felt under the inside of my thigh let me know our position was just a little too intimate for good friends.

  “Oh, John, I’m so sorry,” I offered hastily as I removed my leg and rolled on my side. I was so embarrassed, I was sure he could see my red face even in the darkness.

  “No, I’m sorry I don’t have better control,” John chuckled
in the darkness. “I’m just a guy, after all. You don’t have to move that far, it’s all right.” He pulled my shoulders back toward him, and put his arm around me as he kissed me on the forehead. “I’m sorry I woke you, go back to sleep, Andie-girl.”

  Yeah, like that was going to happen now. I was so embarrassed. I didn’t know how I was going to face him in the daylight. Thankfully, Everett showed up about ten minutes later.

  “Sorry, Bebe. That took longer than I thought. I’m back now, so I’ll take over now, John. You go home and get some sleep,” he commented as he plopped down on the air mattress beside the bed, book in hand.

  “Yeah, guess I’d better get going. I’ll see you tomorrow, Andie. Call me if you need anything. I can be here in two minutes.” He leaned over and kissed me lightly on the lips.

  “Kay. Night, John,” I replied. He strode out the door, shutting it behind him.

  “Everything all right, Bebe?” Everett asked.

  “Um, yeah, why?” I asked.

  “Just checking. There was quite the static electricity in the atmosphere. Just seemed a little strained when I came in, that’s all.”

  “Ev, how could you possibly…” I began.

  “Oh, it’s that Aldon – taste the turn of your emotions and thoughts thing, that’s all. Is everything all right between you and John?”

  “Yes, Ev…goodnight!” I exclaimed. Everett chuckled in the darkness.

  Chapter Six

  Now I really began to feel like I was living in a fish bowl. Everett said fighting the Orcos was easier than trying to keep me in the bed lying flat. There was always someone with me, and while the Aldon continued their patrols at the house, Everett watched over me when I slept. Aunt Sue was back and forth between Denham Springs and my house, spending as much time as she could with Constance and me. Constance was having a hard time, for her grief at Ty’s disappearance had hit her full-force. She cried herself to sleep most nights, and Aunt Sue was wearing herself out trying to take care of us and snap us out of our depression.

  All of this confinement was not helping my depression. I was sick of staying in the house and having people waiting on me. I was so bored, and determined I wouldn’t let myself wallow in grief and Banton’s absence. I’d even planned my schedule for the fall semester, and then looked the reading lists of novels and short stories up on the computer for the literature class I’d planned to take. I was well into the third novel, when Constance approached me one hot July afternoon.

  “Knock knock, are you sleeping?” Constance murmured, peeking around the door to my room.

  “No, I’m not allowed to sleep unless Ev is up here with me. Come in. I thought you’d gone shopping with Aunt Sue.”

  “No, I didn’t much feel like it. I wanted to talk to you,” she replied as she crawled up on the bed and lay her head down on the pillow beside me.

  “What’s on your mind?” I asked, closing my laptop.

  “Andie, I don’t want to upset you, but I just have to…”

  “What is it, Constance? It’s all right, you don’t have to be on pins and needles around me,” I smiled and brushed my hand down her cheek. She’d been so quiet about her mourning for Ty, and she rarely broached the subject.

  “I…I think you are right,” she said finally.

  “I usually am, but about what?”

  “Banton and Ty. I think…I agree with you. I don’t believe they’re dead,” she said finally.

  “I’m glad someone does…but what has convinced you?”

  “Your dream the other day. Your dream when Mr. Jackson appeared, and fought the Tariq. Chandler, if Banton and Ty were dead, wouldn’t they…wouldn’t they be there, to help you?” she asked as she played with the lace on the pillow.

  “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that, too. I hope you are right, Constance. I have to believe it…I just have to,” I replied as I hugged her.

  * * *

  Constance’s belief Banton and Ty were alive did wonders for my morale. I had renewed interest in decorating the nursery and enlisted Everett’s help for the finishing touches. He even let me help in the painting of one of the murals on the walls, letting me sit on a pillow in the floor and paint the ocean under the “rub-a-dub-dub, three men in a tub…” nursery rhyme wall.

  “Everett, this is just beautiful. I can’t imagine growing up in this room. It’s like a magical wonderland!” I exclaimed as I glanced around at the nursery.

  “I’m making sure our babies have the best of everything. I just can’t wait for them to get here. I’m just giddy!” he shivered for effect.

  He was so dramatic, and he never failed to make me laugh. I lay back in the floor and surveyed the room. The cribs were beautiful, draped in the antique fabrics his mother had produced for us. They would make any designer drool. The dressing tables on each wall were painted to match the antique chest he’d bought at the estate sale, and every custom-built shelf held a multitude of whimsical toys. Clouds drifted on the ceiling, and the interior wall was painted with nursery rhyme murals straight from mother goose nursery rhymes. I could just imagine sitting in the antique rocker in the corner, singing to my beautiful babies, one in each arm…

  Then I couldn’t help but think of Banton. The empty ache began anew in my chest. He would be so sweet with them. I could just imagine him, picking up one of the twins as I picked up the other, placing a kiss on their foreheads, both of us rocking them together. My eyes began to mist as I glanced down at the basketball that used to be my tummy. I put both arms around my babies, their kicks unusually active today.

  “Are you all right?” Everett asked, reading my expression. He’d been so wonderful, watching my every move, staying with me every moment, entertaining me, keeping me from wallowing during this period of mourning.

  I sat up, determined as always I wouldn’t go there, not yet.

  “Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go downtown and eat at that fabulous new restaurant. I feel like one of those thousand calorie desserts!”

  I knew how much Everett was worrying about my appetite, and I knew it would make him happy to see me devour a chocolate volcano dessert or two.

  After a wonderful lunch at our favorite tea room, and a dessert I was sure contained enough calories to get me thru the next week, Everett and I walked arm and arm back to my SUV.

  “Ev, I’m feeling great. I know I’m not supposed to push things, but could we go to the park, for just a little while? We can just sit on a bench and watch the kids play in the fountain. I just don’t want to go back to the house yet.” I sighed as I watched him. It didn’t take much to talk him into anything I wanted these days.

  “All right, Bebe, but we have to take it easy,” he cautioned.

  As we drove to the park, I rolled the windows down. It had just stopped raining and the grass smelled so sweet. The air had cooled down to a pleasant temperature for July. Everett parked and then walked me over to a bench close to the fountain.

  I sat down and relaxed into the corner of the bench as Everett pulled my feet up, propping them in his lap.

  “Darlin’, all of your research on your house is making for quite an interesting story. I daresay, might even be worthy of a look by a publisher or agent. I hope you don’t mind, but I sneaked a peek on your laptop the other day. You are a really good writer,” he commented as he raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Well, don’t act so surprised!” I teased as he grinned.

  “But, you need an ending to your little tale about the builders of the house, and I feel it is time I complete the circle. It’s time, Bebe. I need to tell you a story… not to make you sad, but to let you know I feel how you are grieving.”

  “I’m not grieving,” I gritted through my teeth. “Banton is not dead. He’s just missing. I know in my heart, he’s coming back to me.”

  “Oh, Ma Cherie, I know you don’t want to give up hope.” He cupped my chin in his hand and made me look into his eyes; beautiful, sea green eyes full of unshed tears. I’d never seen him like that, so
emotional, such raw passion evident on his face. It was yet another layer of Everett that was foreign to me.

  “It’s time to set the stage for you, to unfold before your eyes the drama that created my persona, that which made me who I am. I once loved so deeply, so completely, I haven’t been able to open my heart to another.”

  I sat motionless, alert to the fact he never spoke seriously about himself, about his own relationships. I felt as if the entire world needed to cease its hurried pace and lay down for the telling.

  “You know, Ma Petit, things are often not as they appear. The last century I have buried myself in varied loving, delightful friendships that are very fulfilling. I have been blessed with such deep friendships most others would surely be envious. My relationship with you alone has brought me such joy…I could have only imagined. Living as I did for many years with an eccentric mother and grandmother programmed certain, shall we say, characteristics many misread. The conclusions they draw I find extremely humorous, but not in the least offensive.”

  “Everett, are you finally going to tell me if you are gay or straight?” I raised an eyebrow.

  He chuckled and then began. “Let me set the stage for you. I was a young man, barely out of my teen years, when the war broke out between the states. I immediately rushed off to join my brethren in gray, and saw much action at the first of the war. After one particularly brutal battle, I found myself at the outskirts of the battlefield, wounded, weak from the loss of blood. A bayonet had separated two of my ribs and my heart, barely missing the latter. Being an Aldon, I knew I would survive, but I was in a weakened state.” His eyes traveled far into the distance, and his voice was tired. He gazed back at me, and continued, “A young woman, only nineteen or so, happened upon me before the enemy did. She helped me back to her farm and nursed me back to health. After two short days I was fully healed and in love.” He paused to look up at me, and my mouth was hanging open. I shut it, and he smiled as he continued. “She was beautiful, silky jet-black hair, and deep blue, grief-saddened eyes. Her young husband had been killed in a battle only two months before, and she carried his child.”