Veiled Eyes

by C. L. Bevill

  “I don’t like you knowing everything I’m thinking about,” Anna gritted.

  “Stay angry then,” Gabriel advised. “I cannot hear a damn thing when you’re angry. It’s an effective block to me.”

  “You were the one who found me,” she marveled sharply. “It wasn’t any kind of hallucination. It was you. Asking me where I was, what the truck looked like. That night you saved my life.” She stared at him. He had turned away to look at the police vehicles and was steadfastly ignoring her. The line of his profile was mulishly stubborn, as if he didn’t want to discuss that topic. “You were so angry. I told him that. And he thought I was delirious.”

  “Oui,” Gabriel whispered. “I was angry. I could have ripped his lungs from his body. That miserable son of a bitch.” His head turned slowly to look at her but it wasn’t her face he concentrated on. It was the scabs and bruises that circled her wrists. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get there faster.”

  Anna’s mouth opened. Nothing came out. But her thoughts said it all.

  Finally, she said, “And Gautier?”

  “Gautier has done things in the past. Drugs. Gambling in questionable games with questionable men. He has been in jail a half dozen times for assault. Once he beat an outsider to within an inch of his life. There are men who would have cheerfully slit his throat for a carton of cigarettes. Trust me, this is coincidental.” He held out his hand. “I-we need you to not tell the police about our gifts. You can understand why this is so. After all, you’ve never shared your own abilities with anyone. “Not even Jane.”

  Anna stared at his hand. There were things he wasn’t telling her. And she knew it was a lot more than he had already told her. Finally, she put her smaller hand in his much larger one. His warm fingers closed over hers. “I won’t tell them.”

  “I know,” he said. “I think I’ve always known.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Wednesday, December 17th - Saturday, December 20th

  Some old women whisper that a child born with a caul will have veiled eyes or more commonly known as the gift of second sight.

  Within an hour the parish coroner pronounced Gautier Debou’s death a homicide. Police officers littered the little clearing and most of them were grim-faced and taciturn to a point. Having already seen what they were seeing, Anna was not surprised.

  The sheriff questioned her intently about her presence on the bluff, asking her specifically about the shotgun blast she’d heard before she’d turned down the lane. “You say you heard something before you reached the cottage,” he reiterated.

  “It sounded like a gunshot to me. I’ve heard a few before. One of Camille’s twins said it was hunting season,” Anna answered. “That if I stayed on the trail, I wouldn’t get accidentally shot. I thought it was a hunter. Don’t they hunt deer at dusk?”

  “Why did you want to talk to Mr. Debou?” the sheriff asked her, his face unfathomable.

  Some people were easier to read than others. Like the waitress in the truck stop in Texas. The one who thought she was desperate, a prostitute. She had been as plain as a signpost. But the sheriff was like a tabla rosa, a blank slate. There was nothing there, except an unerring interest in the answers she was giving him.

  Anna realized that she was drained. The walk up to Debou’s house, the fear she’d felt, all were contributors to her exhaustion. She thought she might melt into the ground if she hadn’t been sitting down in the backseat of a patrol car.

  “I thought he might know something about my parents,” Anna sighed.

  Gabriel was standing beside her, his arms crossed over his chest. He dropped them to his sides as he said, “Sheriff, la p’tite is exhausted. Can you not speak with her just as well tomorrow? She’s staying with my sister.”

  The sheriff stared at the pair of them. “Yeah, I guess we can do that, although I don’t think it’s going to be necessary. Debou has a regular pharmacy of illegal drugs inside, hidden in the crawlspace. Unless this young lady has a shotgun or a criminal history, it’s not going to be an issue.”

  Anna sighed again. She had never touched a shotgun in her life, and although she probably should have been arrested for assault in Abilene, she didn’t have a criminal record that was going to bother the sheriff.

  A deputy was designated to drive her home. Gabriel was staying to talk to the sheriff.

  Gabriel’s thoughts came unmistakably to her. I’ll talk to you later, Anna. Rest and be well.

  Anna doggedly refused to answer. The deputy started the patrol car and let it rattle down the rutted lane, ignoring his passenger. Once acceptance of the ability had come, she realized that she could catch bits and pieces of conversations in her head. It was as if a door had suddenly swung wide open for her. It was like listening in on a party line. Most of what she understood was mundane and simplistic. These were crumbs and fragments that the family didn’t care if someone overheard, like a conversation about pickles in a supermarket. You coming over? No, watching Star Trek. T-Bob, where you at? Not in front of the computer. Sure. Anh. Merde! Don’t do that. Why not? He’s a worthless Carencro. Boss hates me. Hate him back.

  Imagine a wall, advised Gabriel, coming out of the blue. Build a wall in your mind, chère. That will take care of the chatter until you can better control the gift.

  Camille and her family were waiting for Anna. So were Aurore and Sebastien. As Anna got out of the patrol car with a wave at the deputy, she slapped a hand against her forehead. “Oh, Aurore, I forgot about dinner.”

  Aurore brushed a hand through her black and gray hair. She turned halfway to Sebastien, saying, “She forgot about the supper. It’s supper here, chère. Dinner is lunch. But supper be damned. We worried about you.” She grasped Anna’s shoulder softly.

  Anna hesitated. Despite what had happened this evening. Coming out and talking about what she had experienced was something she found difficult to do. Her face twisted as she searched for the words.

  Don’t worry, came Camille, repeating Aurore’s words. Get used to it first. It’s a gift. And you’re with family now. No one will judge you here.

  There was another ruthless thought that cut into that. She’s wrong about that. You will be judged. By the elders and by he who guards the family. Just like Gautier. Anna started. It wasn’t a new thought pattern, but she didn’t think it was Gabriel and it wasn’t Camille’s dulcet tones. Immediately she understood that she wasn’t supposed to have caught it. A rush of shielded emotion followed the thought, just like the wall Gabriel had encouraged her to build in her mind. It slammed down.

  With a little note of shock she looked at the others. Mathieu Landry was guiding his sons inside while motioning at Sebastien and Aurore to join them. He said, “We have plenty, friends. The boys only eat half the buffalo tonight.”

  Sebastien chuckled in reply. “Aurore said she could eat le cocodrie whole.”

  Camille waited for Anna, a little bemused expression on her face as she watched her sons scamper inside complaining that they were starving to death. None of them paid particular attention to her.

  “Why not?” she heard Aurore ask a moment later. “I invite people to supper and no one bothers to show up.” She laughed pleasantly. “Not even my own husband and sons. You’d think they prefer Taco Bell, les imbeciles.”

  Phillippe picked an inopportune moment to say, “Mamselle promised to help us make a go-cart, Papa. Won’t that be exciting?”

  Camille paused at the door and glanced at Anna. “Oh, Lord. Just what we need. Anna, you didn’t.”

  “With your permission?” Anna responded feebly. She had a weakness for children. She wanted them to be happy, and have the things she never had in the orphanage and in the foster homes. Possessions and uninterrupted playtime and time to enjoy their childhood.

  “Oh.” Camille understood that. I see.

  “I’ll keep it to a reasonable speed, Camille,” she said. “Did you hear someone else, just now?”

  “What do you mean?” Camille waited for Anna to
come through the door. She shut the door and together they watched the twins attack the kitchen. Mathieu was pulling paper plates out of a cupboard.

  “You said something about how no one will judge me,” Anna said it softly. She was lost now. Obviously it could be anyone present with her or within range of her. And who knew how much of a range the gift had. After all, didn’t Gabriel say he knew about me, all the way over in El Paso? Clear across the border of Louisiana and Texas and then across the entire state of Texas. “And someone else said you were wrong. That I would be judged by…someone else.”

  Camille snorted. “Nonsense. Someone is just messing with your head, p’tite. Ignore them. Like all human beings they like to have their little jokes. Wait until Sebastien pulls some of his fast ones on you.”

  •

  Anna regained her normal physical self within days. If there weren’t fading bruises on her body and fast disintegrating scabs on her wrists she might have said nothing at all had happened to her. The nightmares had crumbled into pieces of nonsensical wonderings and Dan Cullen had fled the world inside her dreams.

  Several things had happened. She had moved out of the Landry house and into a small apartment above a garage. The little apartment was clean but small. Anna especially liked how the second floor had a little balcony that looked out over the lake. It also had an astonishingly unhindered view of the general store and the dock where Gabriel kept his two ships.

  It was the same garage the former automobile mechanic had plied his trade in and was owned by one of the family. They hadn’t found someone to replace the young man and had been taking their car problems to Shreveport for the better part of two years. The equipment was limited but already Anna had fixed several vehicles, including Sebastien’s old Ford truck.

  Curiously she felt some of their thoughts when they came to her with their repairs. It was obvious that some of them did not expect her to ‘hear’ them and she did not bring it into the open because she thought some of them would have been embarrassed at what she’d caught them thinking. They were coming to look at the new one. The one who’d been separated from the family at birth, brought up by outsiders. Can we trust her? Will she support us? Is she really one of us?

  There were a few who were worse. Outsider trash. Never be one of us. Should turn her out. And Anna discovered that the family was just like any kind of human beings, with their own biases and prejudices. Good and bad. Judgmental and nonjudgmental.

  Jane had wired her five hundred dollars and a bus ticket the day before. Anna left the ticket sitting on the nightstand next to her bed, uncertain of the outcome there. She didn’t know if she would go to see her friend anymore. She rather suspected she didn’t know anything about anyone. At least it was how she felt at the moment. She called Jane once to explain her hesitation. Jane had been as she always was, understanding, “Anna, I just don’t want you to hitchhike like you were before.”

  Anna had interrupted, suddenly troubled by something she couldn’t identify. “I won’t hitchhike anymore, Jane. I’ve learned my lesson.” Then she had quickly pled fatigue, promising to call again within a few days.

  Gabriel had unfalteringly ignored her presence for the last three days. She only caught a hint of him once, that same morning. Thinking of her while he stood at the bow of the Belle-Mere, he whistled cheerfully. He had lost his abject concentration while he was working. He was enjoying the late Indian summer and whistling that same lively tune. Then he stopped whistling and started singing the words, all in French, undoubtedly content for the moment.

  Anna had allowed an errant thought out and she wished immediately that she hadn’t done it. Happy?

  He’d hastily stopped singing. Anna. Then there was a rush of emotion, desire wrapped up in helpless wanting that caused an answering surge within herself. However, something else had called for his attention. Later, Anna. When you’re more used to it.

  For some reason Anna felt rebuffed and she bit back a stinging retort. An arrow of hurt feelings shot through her. She’d heard him then, thinking protestingly in immediate reaction to her hurt feelings, Anna! I didn’t mean…

  Then her own wall she constructed had slammed down. In Anna’s mind it was a garage door for the most well-protected shop equipment a business could possess. It was reinforced steel and she could raise or lower it in her mind at her whim.

  Even now the apparent rejection stung. She cleaned up a set of wrenches and put them back in their place, methodically arranging them in order of size. Then she glanced out the open doors and thought, It’s Saturday and I don’t have to be in here.

  The twins had spent half the morning there, constructing the new go-cart. It sat half-finished on the floor behind her, occupying one of the stalls inside the garage. Anna knew it would be finished within a few days. Phillippe and Pierrot were like little obsessed madmen. Even their father had tired out before they had. “Oh mon Dieu,” Mathieu had complained piously. “Please give me more strength. Come on boys. Your papa has other work to do today and you’ve promised to help.”

  Pierrot had protested, “But it’s almost done.” Phillippe had vehemently agreed.

  “It won’t be finished for a few days,” Anna had explained patiently, knowing exactly whose fault this was. “We can’t finish it in a day. It wouldn’t be worth having.”

  Both twins had considered that and decided that it was a good reason to quit without further objection. Mathieu had mouthed the words, ‘Thank you,’ when the twins’ backs were turned.

  After they had gone, Anna felt oddly alone. She cleared the tools from the floor of the garage and decided she needed fresh air.

  She had a million questions for the family and finally a minute to herself to think about what she might say. They acted like normal people. She knew for the most part, that that was what they were, normal families with a little extra going on upstairs. They had a touch of clairvoyance. Like her they could have little hints of what was to come, but it was never earth-shattering events that were foretold. For the most part, they were simply able to communicate with each other.

  After washing her hands thoroughly, she changed into a clean T-shirt and headed outside. With a quick glance toward the dock, Anna ascertained that Gabriel and his ships were nowhere in sight. She headed toward the trail that circled the lake. At first she didn’t know where she was going, but it suddenly dawned upon her that she was headed directly for Gautier Debou’s cottage again.

  Gabriel had mentioned another trail that ran up the bluff. Anna found several paths, most of them trailed off into dead ends, nothing more than locations for hunters to lay in wait for their prey. Then she located one that seemed to be heading in the right direction and began a gradual climb. He must know every trail. Every little bit of the forest and bayous. He grew up here. He wandered every inch of this land.

  Anna couldn’t help but feel some resentment. Who hated her enough to take her across the state of Texas and away from her home? It brought to the forefront of her mind the questions that had been clattering around there, waiting for answers that were not to be given. At least, not yet. Gabriel had said, “Not all of us have the gift. Those with the strongest bloodlines are those with veiled eyes. Relatives and close loved ones are blessed with the strongest connections.” And then to her thoughts about her father being one without veiled eyes, he had responded, “Ah, non. Your mother did not have the gift.”

  She wanted answers and she did not want to wait any longer, and she didn’t even have to stand face to face with him to get them. Stopping in the middle of the trail, she shut her eyes. The metal garage door inside her mind jangled up. Anna demanded of Gabriel, HOW do you know my mother didn’t have the gift?

  He didn’t like the sudden command for an answer. Didn’t like it one damned bit. She could feel the irritation behind his eyes, souring his disposition as he steered the Belle-Mere. There was someone else there. A tourist who was asking him questions and Gabriel couldn’t focus on both of them at the same time. For one in
stant she could see from his eyes. The black lake stretched out in front of the ship and the iridescent refraction of the bright light from the sun bounced off the waters. The tourist said, “So the old guy in the store said there’s a giant catfish in the lake.”

  “Oui,” replied Gabriel. Anna could feel him more than she could before. It was the oddest sensation. She was standing in the forest, the light trickling down upon her through the muted branches of the pine trees, with squirrels chattering and birds chirping. But she was also standing on the bow of a ship, the air blowing around her head as they headed for better fishing grounds. “It is Goujon.”

  Goujon the great, Anna added. Builder of dams and whose tail is so large when it came down upon the ground, it caused the earthquakes of 1811.

  Gabriel stuttered. Anna’s sudden loquaciousness was rattling his cage. “It’s just a b-big fish story. Why don’t you go on in back, Mr. Porter? I’ll be stopping the ship presently and you’ll want to have your gear unloaded and ready to fish, oui?”

  “Absolutely,” agreed Mr. Porter enthusiastically and departed the bow.

  Answer the question, Anna demanded. How did you…

  Know that your mother didn’t have the gift.

  Didn’t have, she thought. Anna hadn’t questioned the wording of his statement before. You mean she’s no longer alive.

  No, chère. She’s no longer alive. He felt her immediate disappointment and she could feel a rush of sympathy. I’m sorry, Anna. You used to dream about finding them.

  Did you know my mother? Anna stuffed the sympathy aside and went with what she’d always known, forceful demands. It made up for her lack of height and weight. It had always protected her self-esteem. Did you know Arette?