by Kira Saito
I removed his hand from my forehead and distanced myself from him. “Leave,” I whispered. “Leave. The very sight of you sickens me, and never once have I felt anything remotely close to love for you. Be a gentleman and leave. Never speak to me again. Speak to Maman. You two can figure out the details of the contract. If I’m left with nothing I no longer care. I don’t care keep it all! I no longer want my very soul to be brutalized by you.”
My protest went unnoticed by him. “Oh, Dieu. You really are terribly ill,” he whispered, as he quickly grabbed me by the wrist and spun me around. He roughly kissed my neck and I could feel my anger grow by the second. “You don’t know what you’re saying. Has that slave put some sort of spell on you? Is that why you’re saying these blasphemous things?”
I shook myself free from him and distanced myself from him.
“No. You’re the one who is ill, Edmond. You’re ill because you feel the need to be cruel, dominate and change all those around you. Maybe you’re the one who needs to open his eyes. The world will eventually tire of people like you; you’re afraid of that because it leaves you powerless. You thrive on creating fear in others, but I am no longer afraid of you and one day soon neither will the world. I’d rather die than be your slave. I’d rather die than live with the illusion that I’m free.”
He stepped closer but I refused to show an ounce of fear even though my heart was racing. “You’re ill, so very ill. My sweet Cecile is suffering from delusions that have left her unable to see the truth that with great wealth there always will be power. It’s the natural order of the world. I forgive you and I’ll always take care of you as long as you remember where you belong, I promise I’ll always love you as long as you never defy me again. We’ll get a good night’s rest and in the morning all this madness will be nothing but a distant dream.”
Revulsion took a hold of me at the thought of going to bed with him. That would never happen. Ever again. “No, you’re the one who is delusional because you insist that you love me yet you despise the very nature of who I am.”
“Ill. So very ill,” he said soothingly as he stepped closer and closer. “I’m ignoring every word you’re saying right now because if I were to take it seriously you do know what that would mean, don’t you?”
Complete abhorrence, humiliation, and anger overtook me. I knew the perfect way to get rid of him, but I would need help. “Help me, Oshun; help me get away from this monster. Help me and I’ve give you all of the honey and copper jewelry you could ever ask for.”
“Who in God’s name are you rambling to? The illness is driving you mad, sweet Cecile.” Edmond’s arms were around me. I shuddered as he drew his wine-tinted lips closer and closer to mine and ran his fingers through my loose hair.
I could feel Oshun’s strength and power guide me as I gave him a swift nudge in the groin and released myself from his grip.
Oshun moved forward and smacked him over the head with her pumpkin purse which left him dazed and gave me the perfect opportunity to make my escape.
I made a mad dash out of the room and slammed the door behind me not daring to stop or look back.
“Justine!” I screamed. “Where are you? Please get in here now!”
“Ms. Cecile! What in heaven’s name is going on?” Her dark eyes were wild and tufts of curls stuck out of her brown tignon.
I grabbed her and pulled her into the pantry and locked the door behind us. There was no way I was going to put Justine in the middle of my little battle.
“What…”
“Shhh…” I hushed her. “It’s safe in here. Monsieur’s had too much wine and I need to help him calm down.” I lied. I didn’t want to tell her I was actually about to do because it would probably freak her out.
“But I could make him some café au lait and he’ll be all better in no time.”
I shook my head as I took out my various herbs, oils, candles, and other offerings. “I don’t think café au lait is what he needs.”
“Cecile, open this door now! You’re mad! Your illness is causing you to act in strange and savage ways. It’s all a dream! A bad dream. Let’s go to bed and it will be over in the morning. I can make it all better.”
Justine looked at me in confusion. “He sounds sincere, Madame Cecile. What are you doing with that?” She eyed the materials I had gathered with outright disapproval and horror.
As much as I loved Justine I felt like smacking her at that moment. I brought my fingers to my lips in an attempt to make her be quiet. If Edmond heard her voice he would force her to open the door with threats and intimidation.
“Justine! I hear you. Open this door right now.” His knocks became louder almost deafening. I could hear my heart beat pick up pace to the point where it was as loud as each knock.
Justine was torn as she looked at the door then at me. I shook my head and silently pleaded that she wouldn’t open it.
I quickly lit a black candle and gathered the ingredients I needed to make Goofer Dust. Goofer Dust was a very reliable powder that could be used to severely distress, harm, or even kill your target. Depending on which ingredients you used you could get your target down on all fours howling like a dog, purring like a cat or simply cause their legs to swell up to the point where they had to crawl and could no longer walk. I had no intention of killing Edmond, I only wanted to cause him severe discomfort so that he’d leave me in peace. Maybe a bit of humiliation would be good for him.
I would have to make the dust strong enough so that I could use it as a Hot Foot Powder as well and sprinkle it outside my doorway and onto Edmond’s foot tracks. If the powder was thrown over someone’s foot tracks they wouldn’t be able to re-cross the path, meaning that Edmond would not be able to ever come into the house again.
“Justine you unappreciative slave! I will sell you back into the market if you don’t open this door right now!”
Justine trembled at his words and I could see her yearning to reach for the door handle.
“Don’t be afraid, Justine. He can’t harm you.” I gave her a reassuring smile even though I was unsure of the words that were coming out of my mouth. She reluctantly stepped away from the door.
I quickly mixed Graveyard Dirt, powdered sulphur, salt, powdered snake skin, red pepper, black pepper, some powdered bones, a dash of sage and a few drops of my blood for good measure. I happily hummed while I mixed together the mess and tried my best to ignore Edmond’s incessant ranting on the other side of the door.
I began to feel bad, worse than I ever before
I began to feel bad, worse than I ever before
Lord, I was out one morning, found black dust all round my door
I began to get thin, had trouble with my feet
I began to get thin, had trouble with my feet
Throwing dust about the house whenever I tried to eat
Black dust in my window, black dust on my porch mat
Black dust in my window, black dust on my porch mat
Black dust's got me walking on all fours like a cat
Justine stood in a far corner as she watched me with her mouth agape and eyes full of fear.
“CECILE!” Edmond’s shouts were getting louder, but lucky for me the dust was complete. Now I had to play the part of sick, tragic victim.
I placed all of the ingredients into a cloth sachet and took a deep breath. “Oh Edmond!” I gasped, as I opened the door and fell to the floor. “You’re right! You’re so right, this illness has made me delusional to the point where I no longer know what I’m saying. Please forgive me if I’ve said anything to offend you.” You stupid sadistic idiot.
He stood above me with a smug and knowing look on his face. “I knew it. It’s the illness you caught from the opera. Let me take you to bed, sweet Cecile.” He extended his hand.
I looked up at him with pleading eyes and reached out for his hand; all the while I was using my free hand to spread the mess all around the floor where I knew he would walk. I let him pull me up off from the groun
d and then with a swift and unexpected force pushed him directly into the path of the mess.
Edmond’s feet made contact with the powder and a tormented expression filled his eyes. For a few seconds he swayed slowly in the upright position before falling onto his hands and knees. “I feel... I feel as if...”
“Ms. Cecile! Have you gone mad?” Justine rushed up behind me and clicked her tongue disapprovingly. She was about to rush to Edmond’s side when I stopped her.
“No. Don’t step in that powder and don't touch Monsieur because he’s so very ill,” I said sweetly, as I watched Edmond wither and gasp under the dim light of the single gas-lit lamp that hung overhead. “Keep an eye on him. I’ll be right back.”
I ran out the front door and scoured the muddy earth for Edmond’s footprints. After a few moments of blindly stumbling around in the dark I found them and sprinkled the Goofer Dust on them while skipping backwards and singing:
I began to feel bad, worse than I ever before
I began to feel bad, worse than I ever before
Lord, I was out one morning, found black dust all round my door
I began to get thin, had trouble with my feet
I began to get thin, had trouble with my feet
Throwing dust about the house whenever I tried to eat
Black dust in my window, black dust on my porch mat
Black dust in my window, black dust on my porch mat
Black dust's got me walking on all fours like a cat
After I was done I took a moment to catch my breath and mentally scolded myself for having so much fun but I felt alive and free so gloriously free! A warm wind kissed my face and I knew Bade was happy.
“Finally Cecile, finally!” he hissed.
I jumped up and down like a two year on a praline high. “I know! I know! You were right, Bade! I finally understand what you were trying to tell me! Thank you! Je t'amie!”
I ran back into the house and at this point Edmond had started to meow and purr like a little cat while Justine watched him in dismay.
“Ms. Cecile! I can’t!” She covered her face with her hands, but I could still see her eyes peering out through the cracks between her fingers in grotesque wonder.
I kneeled down on the ground in front of Edmond and gently stroked his hair and ran my fingers over his bow-shaped lips.
“Meeeooow,” he purred, as he looked me in the eyes.
“Meeooowww!” I purred back. I was on a very specific mission and that was to get him out of the house in any way I could. It didn’t matter what I had to do.
“Meeeoooow!” he purred again.
“Ms. Cecile!” At this point Justine was on her knees muttering prayers and confessionals while furiously making the Sign of the Cross. “I’m praying for your soul, Ms. Cecile. May the Lord have mercy on your soul! What you’re doing is not right, it’s not of Dieu!” Her eyes were wide with conviction and her full lips trembled as she muttered prayer after prayer.
For a moment I froze and wondered if Bon Dieu was truly going to damn my soul because I was defending myself. I brushed off the ridiculous thought and continued to purr like a hungry little kitty.
I started to slowly crawl away from him and prayed that he would follow me. Thankfully, Edmond crawled behind me and I crawled faster and faster until I kind of felt like a real cat.
“Cecile.” His voice was raspy and almost animalistic when he spoke and I could see that he was trying to fight his way out of his Goofer Dust-induced stupor, but I wouldn’t let that happen as long as he was under my roof. “What has the savage done to us?”
“We’re in a dream, Edmond. We’re in bed dreaming. Won’t you dream with me?” I rolled my eyes and continued to purr and crawl faster and faster until I was out the front door. I saw Edmond right behind me and let out a giant sigh of relief.
Once outside I got up off from the ground and quickly ran inside. I watched Edmond purr and meow like a wounded cat for a few minutes until he finally stopped and became quiet and deadly still.
After a few minutes he spoke. “Cecile. My sweet, Cecile. My legs feel as if they have been trampled on by a thousand wild beasts.” He dramatically grabbed his legs and despite his obvious pain he rose and started to limp towards the door.
I crossed my fingers and prayed that the powder had worked and he was no longer able to cross the threshold between the outside world and my home.
I backed away from the entrance and braced myself as he stumbled closer and closer. Once he reached the entrance he abruptly stopped as if he had run into a glass door. “What in the name of Dieu?” He tried to inch closer but every attempt was met with an invisible backwards push. The foggy haze had lifted from his eyes which meant the immediate effects of the Goofer Dust were quickly wearing off. “Cecile?” He blinked a few times before he realized where he was. He reached out to touch my hair but I snapped my head back before he could lay a finger on me.
“Go away,” I whispered. “There’s nothing left for you here. I have nothing left to give you.”
His eyes narrowed and I could now see that the Goofer Dust had completely worn off. He let out a low breath and there was a strange strangled silence before he spoke. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your friend from the opera; you’re in love with him, aren’t you? You were waiting for him tonight, weren’t you? You were going to let him come into my home!” He said in complete disgust. “You were going to let that colored boy into my home! The home that I’m paying for! The home I’m keeping you in!”
The ridiculous accusation almost made me want to break out in wild laughter at the irony of the whole situation. Protectors like Edmond were perfectly fine keeping and having sex with colored girls but heaven forfend that a colored man ever stepped foot under their roof. He repulsed me and I didn’t want to waste another second of my life arguing with him. “Go away Edmond,” I said calmly. “You can visit Maman in the morning and you two can discuss the best way to end the contract, but I am no longer your property.”
His face grew bright red and his voice came out in a vicious and unsteady stream. Even from where he stood I could feel his wine-infused breath on my skin. “Oh, but that’s where you’re so very wrong, my dear Cecile. I say when you are no longer my property, not the other way around. I’m not done with you.”
“Sure, Edmond, whatever will help you sleep tonight.” I slammed the door in his face and let out several short breaths. I knew that the battle was only beginning.
Chapter Nineteen
Murder at the French Market
Cecile LaNuit’s Home/Vieux Carré
New Orleans, 1853
I stretched and let out a little yawn. It was a miserably cloudy day and the wind was relentlessly howling and bringing gusts of wind that reeked of dead animals and decay into my bedroom, but I was absolutely ecstatic. Today would be an Edmond-free day and it would be the first official day of my new life, even though I had no clue as to how I was going to support myself now that I was no longer under Edmond’s protection.
I jumped out of bed and the first thing I did was take all of my altars and various offerings out of their hiding places and rearranged them on my dresser. I took a deep breath and caught my reflection in my mirror. The skin under my eyes was puffy and my skin was an unsightly shade of sallow yellow, but I felt wonderful.
“Cecile, run to the market! Run and say good-bye.” A cool wind rippled through my loose hair and sent an overwhelming sense of alarm through my veins.
“Say good-bye?” I whispered. “Say good-bye to who?”
“Go! Go to the market! There isn’t much time left and if you don’t go now you won’t have a chance to say good-bye!” Bade hissed.
Wasting no time I grabbed a thick velvet cape, threw it over my thin satin gown and ran out the door without remembering to put on a pair of shoes.
“Ms. Cecile!” Justine cried after me but I ignored her and made a mad dash towards the market
. “You look like a heathen! What if they stop you?”
I knew it was dangerous leaving the home looking the way I did and without my freedom papers but I didn’t care. Had something happened to Maman or Tante Celeste? The air was thick and smoky to the point where I found it hard to breathe, while the sensation of mud, dirty water, and manure under my bare feet was so revolting that I had to repress the waves of nausea that were threatening to make me vomit.
I ran through the muddy, cobbled streets as fast as I could until I reached the market. Around me the sights, smells, and sounds that I loved so much seemed so vivid and alive that it was impossible to imagine that there was anything wrong. The French Market with its mounds of fresh, sweet fruit of all imaginable colors, heaps of green produce, dangling cuts of beef, wild turkeys, pink, grey, yellow rows of seafood that catered to every palate under the sun, was thriving and carrying on as normal.
Vendors of all ages, colors, races competed for the attention of finely-dressed, selective customers. Each and every face was unique and striking in its own way and it was impossible not to stop and stare at the sheer wonder of it all. Voices sang, laughed and passionately argued in a variety of languages and accents while bartering for the best deal or simply taking in the beautiful chaos of it all.