Spirits of the Bayou

by Morgan Hannah MacDonald

  In that period, Luc become more settled in his new life. The fear he’d be thrown out had subsided, although not totally disappeared. He’d tested Frank on several occasions by making him super mad, but not once did he threaten to kick Luc out.

  One night Frank took him to a very expensive restaurant in the French Quarter. After they’d ordered, he asked Luc how he would feel about having someone come and home school him. Frank told him about a guy he knew close to Luc’s age with a similar background; he too was born with a gift and a very strict father.

  He said the young man was unhappy that his father wouldn’t pay for college. He didn’t think it was necessary, because as his eldest son, he was expected to take over the family ranch. Frank then asked if Luc would mind if he invited him to live with them. He would offer to pay the guy’s college tuition and his expenses in exchange for his help.

  That struck horror deep within Luc, to have someone else vying for Frank’s attention. Would Luc and Frank do things alone anymore? What if Frank liked this guy more than Luc? There had to be a better alternative. Maybe he could go to night school and take classes to catch up. Luc couldn’t speak. He certainly couldn’t tell Frank what he was thinking.

  Their dinners arrived and Luc focused on his meal.

  “Luc.” He heard Frank, but couldn’t face him.

  “Luc, look at me.”

  Unable to ignore him any longer, Luc put down his fork and glanced up.

  “No one could ever replace you in my heart. You will always be a very important part of my life. Do you understand that?” Frank reached across the table and covered Luc’s hand with his.

  Luc felt his eyes well up. He swatted at the tears before they could fall.

  “I couldn’t love you more if you were my own son. Jake would be more like a guest in our home, just a visitor.”

  Frank said he loved him and called it their home, not his. That did it, the tears began to fall. Luc covered his face and raced to the bathroom. By the time he returned, Frank was halfway through his meal. He acted really cool by pretending Luc’s breakdown had never happened.

  Jake Spaulding arrived six weeks later. Frank stayed true to his word, their relationship did not change. It actually got stronger. Frank Thibodeaux became the father Luc had always dreamed of. Not only did Luc respect Frank, but he loved him more than anyone he’d ever known.

  Frank made Luc feel special about his gift, not like a freak and certainly not crazy. He helped him deal with the fear and confusion he’d felt all his life. But the most important thing he taught him was that Luc was worthy of love. He’d found himself a new family in Frank, Clara and Jake. People he loved that actually loved him back.

  TWELVE

  Present Day

  While Jake was working, Luc took the St. Charles streetcar to the public library. He needed to find out everything he could about the missing children. He didn’t know how much he could learn from a newspaper, as he’d heard the cops kept things out of the press. But whatever information he could gather would be more than he had now.

  A librarian set him up with a microfiche machine and the last seven months of the Times Picayune. So far, Luc knew only two things: a child was taken once a month and eight children were missing. He began his search at nine-thirty in the morning, taking notes and printing each article. The best part about his research was sitting in the air-conditioned building. Had he known how comfortable the library was, he’d have been spending his entire summer there.

  Except for bathroom breaks, he didn’t leave the machine. By the time he’d finished, he was tired and hungry. He glanced at his watch and noticed it was a quarter to five. If he hurried, he could bum a ride home with Jake.

  He shoved his belongings into his backpack, finished off his bottle of water and tossed it into the trash, and then packed up the film canisters to return to the front desk. He made it across town with no time to spare. When he opened the door to the shop, a bell jangled and the girl behind the register glanced toward him.

  Luc huffed and puffed. “Jake?”

  She pointed toward the back of the store. Luc spotted him just as he was exiting. Jake must have heard his thundering footfalls because he turned around. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

  Luc tried to catch his breath so he could answer. “I was at the library.”

  Jake’s brows arched. “Oh-kay.” He drew out the word because the idea of Luc spending the day in the library was so foreign it had to be a joke. “Did you want a ride?”

  Luc nodded then followed him to his Jeep. By the time they were on the road he could talk without gasping. “I was researching the abductions.”

  Jake glanced his way. “Great idea. What did you find out?”

  “By the pictures and their ages, I think they’re the same children from the bayou.”

  “At least you confirmed we’re on the right track.”

  “I was hoping you could go through everything I gathered and together we might be able to come up with a plan of action.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Jake said while watching the road. “I can’t wait to read it. Celestine should be able to help us with that.”

  “I don’t know, do you think we can trust her?”

  Jake scrunched up his face. “Sure, why not?”

  “It’s obvious she doesn’t like me.”

  “Luc, you always say that.”

  “I do not.”

  “Yes, you do, especially when it comes to women. You have so much to learn about the female of the species.”

  That really burned Luc’s butt. “Yeah? Well I don’t see them falling all over you.”

  “That’s because they’re busy falling all over you. I don’t stand a chance once they meet you.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “I wish it was,” Jake said almost under his breath.

  “That’s such a load of crap. How can you even say that?”

  “Because I have eyes. Women gravitate toward you. It’s that whole tall, dark, and handsome thing you’ve got going on. I might as well be invisible.”

  “You think I’m handsome?” Luc wiggled his brows.

  Jake’s head jerked toward him. “Fuck you.”

  “I think you’re pretty special too.” Luc winked.

  “Shit.” Jake turned back toward the road. “This isn’t a debate. I was just trying to stop all your whining.”

  Luc’s smile dropped. “I don’t whine.”

  “Yeah, right. You want some cheese with that?”

  “Jesus, who died and made you the expert?”

  “Crap, now I wish I’d never said anything. Just forget it.”

  “No way, you started this. Explain.”

  “Fine. You know Krista from work?”

  “The blonde you have the hots for?”

  “Yup. She asked about you today.”

  “Oh, man, I’m sorry.” Luc now understood the hostility he was getting from Jake.

  “You should ask her out.”

  Luc glared at him. “Fuck that, I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  “You might as well, it’s not like she’ll go out with me now.” Jake actually sounded sincere.

  “Her loss. Besides, there’s nothing sexy about being unemployed.”

  “Now she didn’t actually say you were sexy.” Jake turned to Luc with a huge grin. “The word she used was brooding.”

  “What? I do not brood.”

  “I wouldn’t call it that either, but you do give off a certain vibe. At first you’re all quiet, like you’re taking the measure of a room. Your body language says keep away if you know what’s good for you. Even I was leery of you, but now I know it’s just a coping mechanism.”

  Luc couldn’t disagree with that assessment. He did feel defensive walking into a crowded room, as if he needed to watch his back. He hadn’t run into any of his old crew over the years, but that didn’t stop him from being on guard.

  “Which brings us back to Celestine. Until we know she’s 100% on board, I say we
keep things to ourselves.”

  “Your call.” Jake pulled up in front of the house and parked.

  The Garden District was a National Historic Landmark and as such, the outside of the buildings and grounds must be kept up in their original state. The Thibodeaux estate was one of the first homes constructed in the district when the rule was only two mansions per block with lavish gardens. That’s how the division got its name. It’s also why you wouldn’t find any unsightly driveways or garages.

  Luc followed Jake into the house.

  “You boys wash up for supper,” Clara called from the kitchen.

  By the time they’d arrived at the dining table, their food was waiting. “Smells good, Clara,” Jake said.

  “It looks even better. I love your gumbo,” Luc said digging in.

  “Slow down, Jon-Luc, you get heartburn,” Clara warned.

  “I can’t help it, it’s too good.” The moment she left the room, Luc whispered, “We have to hurry, Celestine said to be there at six.”

  “I am hurrying,” Jake said as he struggled to get the meat out of a large crab claw.

  By the time they reached the back door to the shop, they were five minutes late. Luc was certain Celestine would be gone, or at least wouldn’t open the door. They stared at each other while they waited.

  A full minute passed before they heard the locks disengage and she appeared. Luc had forgotten just how beautiful she was. He was mesmerized by her eyes, the very ones that appeared to be glaring at him now.

  “Come in, come in,” she said impatiently while she pulled the door wider. She nodded at Jake, but ignored Luc. He had no idea what her problem was with him, but he decided to leave it alone for the night.

  They followed her into the living quarters where African masks decorated one wall and framed family pictures another. Worn furniture faced an old television set and flowers adorned different surfaces. A dining table with four chairs had a bowl of fresh fruit in the center.

  An aqua Formica counter with two stools divided the area from the kitchen. If Luc had to guess, he’d say the house hadn’t been redecorated since it was built in 1950 or maybe 1960. Either way, he doubted Celestine had anything to do with it, she probably just grew up there.

  She picked up an old leather book, which sat next to a wooden bowl filled with shells on top of a circular, turquoise and white tiled coffee table. She sat cross-legged on a plump cushion atop a round wicker chair, settling in before she laid the tome upon her lap.

  Celestine waited until he and Jake were seated. “Grandmere and I searched hoodoo spells all night until we found the one we believe was used on the boy. Let me first explain that Voodoo is a religion, but Hoodoo is not, instead it is the practice of magick and in this instance you would call it dark or black magick.”

  She opened the book to a place marked with a ribbon. “The purpose of this spell is to make the Bokor, the Conjurer, young again. Like a snake shedding its skin. The rite begins on the new moon and is completed during the full moon when the actual sacrifice must be made. The sacrifice must be a human virgin.”

  “That explains why a child is used, it’s the only way to guarantee a virgin,” Luc said.

  Celestine glanced at him briefly before returning her attention to the book. “The sacrifice is placed upon a table or a large altar and drained of blood while those present repeat the spell over and over again in a chant. The heart is then eaten by the Bokor and the blood is drunk by the serviteurs.

  “The cavity of the body is then stuffed with dirt from a graveyard to make certain the soul can not return. There must be twelve sacrifices, one every month until the cycle is complete. If the cycle is not completed in time, or a full moon goes by without a sacrifice, the spell will be reversed. So instead of getting younger, the Conjurer’s age will triple.”

  “That’s harsh,” Luc said.

  “It is the way of the universe. When working with good magick and all goes well, you are rewarded threefold. When you work bad magick, you must be careful because if anything goes wrong, you will be cursed threefold.”

  “We believe this has to do with the rash of abducted children in the parish over the last year,” Jake said.

  “You may be right,” Celestine said directly to Jake.

  “What I don’t understand is why this young girl, Charlotte, came to me with this. What can I do? I’m not a cop,” Luc added.

  Celestine focused on him before she spoke. “Grandmere and I pondered this and we believe it is to help the children move on. Because the bodies are filled with soil from a cemetery, their souls are cursed to wander in limbo for all of eternity.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why it’s up to me.” Luc was more than frustrated about being given this impossible task.

  “Charlotte knew she could come to you with her message, that you could see and hear her,” she answered.

  “That’s another thing I don’t understand. How come I can talk to her, but with all my other visions, there is no communication?” Luc asked.

  “When you and Charlotte first met, it was when you were young and open to the other side. But as you grew up, your mind constructed walls, which made that impossible. You still see the recently departed, but you can’t hear them anymore. So now Charlotte must come to you in your dreams if she is to be heard,” Celestine said.

  “How do you know that?” Luc hated to think she could read his mind, but how else could she know about his dreams?

  “Mama Arelia knows a lot,” she said without hesitation.

  Luc relaxed a bit, although he didn’t like the idea of anyone inside his head, he especially didn’t want Celestine there. If she had any idea of the fantasies he’d had about her since they met, she would despise him for sure. At the very least think he was a pervert.

  “There has to be someone else out there with the same ability,” Luc said.

  “Not all clairvoyants, mediums, or psychics see or hear the same spirits. For instance, you and Jake live in the same house, but you don’t receive the same messages. That’s true everywhere.”

  “I guess that makes sense.” Luc felt defeated. “So what am I supposed to do?”

  “We need to find out where the Peristyle, or the Bokor’s temple is. That’s where the ceremony will take place,” Celestine said.

  “Can’t you just do some sort of spell to figure that out?”

  She looked at Luc gravely. “No. Only you hold the key.”

  “Great, that’s just great. I don’t know shit!”

  Jake elbowed Luc from his seat on the couch.

  “You know more than you think.” Her demeanor was calm, even with his outburst. “Tell me what you witnessed in your dreams.”

  Luc took a deep breath and focused. He closed his eyes to keep himself from being distracted and recanted everything he could remember.

  “Were you in a swamp or bayou?” she asked.

  “What’s the difference?” Jake interrupted.

  “A bayou is an open stream with vegetation along the sides. The water moves with a current and is often used as a byway. They are wider across than a swamp, which is a boggy wetland where water practically stands still. Bayous here in Louisiana are fed from the Mississippi river and the swamps are fed from the bayous,” Celestine explained.

  “I appeared at the mouth of a swamp. I was in the mud on the shore and the children were out in the middle of the bayou. It was really creepy how they floated above the water, their backs to me as if they were hiding their identity or something.”

  Celestine nodded as if this were a common occurrence. “Did anything about this place stand out? Did you see any homes or other buildings? Maybe a boat dock?”

  “No. Not from where I stood. It was as if I was the only person for miles around, but then again I was in a clump of trees and unable to move. If I were able to scope the area out, there could have been any one of those things to my left.”

  “My guess would be that the children were the only thing you were being
shown by this Charlotte. Her intention was simply to urge you to help them. That’s why she made certain you couldn’t move.

  “If you were able to walk away, you would miss what was right in front of you. You’ve got to remember we’re dealing with a child here, and as a child, she can’t reason like an adult. If she could, she would know that you need much more information to solve the problem. To her way of thinking, adults are the ones with all the answers.”

  “Wow, that’s a good point. I’ll have to remember that in the future,” Luc said.

  “Yes, so if you see her again, tell her to show you more.”

  “I’ll see what I can do, but I’m not exactly an expert on swamps or bayous. I’ve only been to one and that was as a kid.”

  Celestine perked up. “Where was that?”

  Luc shrugged. “I don’t remember exactly.”

  “Well, where did you live back then?”

  “Terrebonne Parish.”

  “That narrows it down.” She left the room and came back with a big book and placed it on the dining table. They all crowded around it while she flipped the pages. She stopped on a map of Terrebonne Parrish. “Okay, I’ll call out the names and you let me know if any of them sound familiar; Bayou du Largo, Bayou St. Lacroix, Boudreaux Lake, Devils Swamp-”

  “Stop!” Luc blurted.

  She gave him a queer look. “You couldn’t remember a lake named Boudreaux? What’s wrong with you?”

  “No, the next one,” Luc said impatiently.

  “You think its Devils Swamp in…” Her finger followed the line. “the town of Thibodeaux?”

  “Yeah,” Luc said sheepishly.

  “You grew up in Thibodeaux and didn’t think to mention it?” Jake accused.

  “You’ve got to admit it is too much of a freakish coincidence,” Luc explained.

  Jake shook his head slowly; he was truly hurt.

  “Hey, I’m sorry. Really.”

  Jake wouldn’t face him.

  “What are you guys talking about?” Celestine asked.

  “We live in the Thibodeaux house,” Luc said.