Oppressed

by Kira Saito

  A suppressed laugh escaped from me as, unwillingly, tears continued to roll down my cheeks. As much as I wanted to sneer and tell him he was sadly mistaken I knew that he was right. There was no way to explain or rationalize les mysteries. I had been with Edmond for months and in those months I hadn’t felt a fraction of the happiness, giddiness, wonder and elation I had felt with Lucus.

  “Where will it end? It can’t end well- it won’t end well.”

  “It’ll end where and how we want it to… You’ll always come first. Always. There will never be anyone else.”

  “How can you have so much faith in something you can’t prove?”

  “How can you have so much faith in spirits most people can’t see?”

  “Because I can feel them.”

  “And I can feel this. What makes your truth anymore valid than mine?”

  I shrugged and lowered my lids. “It may take a million years,” I whispered.

  “If Dinclusin can wait for Chalotte and take her constant demands and stubbornness, I can do the same for you.”

  “Demands?” I pretended to be offended. “You think I’m demanding and stubborn?”

  He grinned as he wiped away my tear with the tips of his finger.

  “Pralines,” I whispered. “Maybe we’ll be together when we’re both pralines.”

  “Pralines,” he murmured as he drew closer.

  I felt his powerful arms around me once again. The heat of his fingers as they gently stroked my neck was dizzying and I lost myself in the moment completely and utterly. His lips pressed against mine evaporating all of my reason and logic. Full of the fiery energy of Guinea peppers, under the ever watchful eye of the Saints and Spirits, I experienced my very first real kiss. Sweet exhilaration filled me from head to toe and I prayed that the moment would stretch on for eternity.

  “Ahem.” A very angry and offended Pere Antonio stood over us and shook his head from side to side while making a rather interesting clicking noise with his tongue. “Blasphemy in the house of Dieu!”

  We quickly tore ourselves apart and stood up. I smiled and reached for Lucus’s hand. “Forgive us Pere, for we have sinned!”

  We burst out laughing. Hand in hand Lucus and I ran out of the Cathedral, leaving a very scandalized Pere Antonio staring after us in disapproval and shame.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Bedtime Blues

  Tante Celeste’s Home, Rue de Rampart

  New Orleans, 1853

  I lay in bed with large grin plastered across my face. Bright moonlight flooded through my open window and brightened the various altars that rested on my dresser while strange shadows danced on the walls around me. I felt odd. I realized the word to best describe how I felt was happy. Yes. I was happy. A few months ago I hadn’t thought it would ever be possible to feel this way, but here I was doing and feeling the impossible.

  “Thank you,” I whispered to no one spirit in particular. “Thank you for everything.”

  It had been the best day ever. The Delmonts had won the trial and their son was officially a free man who had the rest of his life to live. I closed my eyes and listened to Tante Celeste’s sweet voice dramatically sing. I inhaled the scent of the sultry floral night air as it melted with the notes and lulled me into a dream-like slumber. Life was seemingly perfect and I couldn’t help but melt inside when I thought about what had happened in the cathedral with Lucus.

  “Sweet Cecile.”

  A familiar and unwelcome voice pulled me out of my happy place. I shot up and glanced around the room.

  “Sweet Cecile. I saw you today at the cathedral. I saw you kiss my cousin. How can you be so unfaithful to me?”

  My heart stopped and beads of cold sweat covered my skin. I slowly climbed out of bed and glanced around the room. “Edmond? Is that you? Where are you? How did you get in here?”

  “I miss you, Cecile,” said the voice.

  “Show yourself,” I demanded, as I lit a candle and tried to search for the figure.

  “I love you, Cecile. Do you love me? I don’t think you love me.”

  “Yes,” I lied. “Yes I love you so much. Let me see you so I can show you how much I love you.”

  A warm breeze blew out the candle flame and a hand covered my mouth and muffled my scream. “Oh Cecile.”

  And you stood and cried, "What you want me to say to you?"

  Hey, stood and cried, "What you want me to say to you?"

  "I want you t'think 'bout the things, baby, that me and you used to do."

  And then run here, baby, let's try the other hand

  Hey, run here, baby, I said, "Let's try th'other hand"

  I've had a troubled complaint, God, ever since I been your man”

  Edmond’s demented voice sang.

  What the hell was going on? I struggled furiously against him but his hold was too forceful. “Let’s get married, Cecile. Marry me.”

  I revolted wildly against him as he held me close to him and lifted me off the ground. His grip became tighter and tighter until I felt as if all the air had been squeezed out of my lungs. My eyes closed and my body became numb and lifeless.

  **

  My eyes opened and I found myself in St. Louis Cathedral. With my hands tied behind my back I sat in an exquisitely carved chair made out of heavy cherry wood. The church was completely dark aside from the circle of thick black candles that blazed around me. Their flames rose high and cast a grisly glow on the marble statue of the Virgin Mary, making it seem as if she were alive and intently watching my every move.

  “Hello?” I called out. “Edmond! I’m not afraid of you.”

  Edmond appeared before me. Under the light of the candles his angular face was smooth, cold and wax-like. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me, Cecile. I want you to love me just as you love my cousin.” His voice echoed throughout the empty cathedral. He took off his top hat and kneeled on the ground in front of me. When his eyes met mine I could tell that he was not himself.

  “What happened to you?” I asked.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, I’m perfectly fine. I have a present for you.”

  “A present?” My voice unwillingly trembled.

  “Yes.” He got up and clapped his hands. Two female slaves emerged from the shadows. In their hands they held a snow-white wedding dress crafted from the most luxurious silk and lace. “I have a wedding dress for my bride. I think it’s about time we make our match official, isn’t it?”

  “You’re sick,” I whispered, unable to believe what I was hearing.

  “No. I’m not sick. You’re mine and now it’s going to be official.”

  “I’m not yours!” I hissed. “And in case you’ve forgotten you already have a real wife!”

  “Ah yes, but you see my dear sweet Cecile you are mine and always will be.”

  “Why do you have this sick obsession with me?” I asked. He didn’t respond. I examined him closely for a few seconds. “It’s not me at all, is it? You have a sick obsession with control and domination. No one’s ever stood up to you before and the fact that I have is driving you mad, isn’t it? You can’t stand the fact that I’m not afraid of you!” I laughed at the realization that I held power. Real power.

  He ignored me and to my surprise he untied me. I attempted to run but he grabbed me before I had a chance to make my escape. “Dress her,” he ordered.

  My satin nightgown fell to the ground and the slaves came forward. I wrapped my arms around my body protectively but they were brutally ripped away and my body was thrust into the wedding gown. My screams were muffled by one of the slave’s hands as the other laced up my corset strings so tightly that I swore that I heard one of my ribs crack.

  Edmond stood at the end of the long church aisle and beamed at me as I was thrust forward by the slaves. Bizarre wedding music started to play and a ghostly discourse hummed in the background as I was forced forward. I was seduced into a mesmerizing trance and had to force myself to wake up.

  “No!” I scr
eamed, as I tried to unsuccessfully break free from their grasp.

  Edmond’s eyes danced as they rested on me. I stood in front of him and spit on his face.

  “Leave,” he said to the slaves. The slaves bowed their heads and left without daring to make eye contact with him.

  At this point I should have run for dear life but my feet were firmly planted on the ground, unable to move, let alone run.

  “We’re going to be together forever and forever,” he said as he softly stroked my cheek and gave me a long kiss.

  “You’re demented!” I screamed, as I clawed at his face and tried to break free from his grasp. Tears of defeat slid down my sweaty cheeks as he continued to kiss me.

  “Say that you love me. Look at me like you look at Lucus.”

  “I don’t love you and I never will.”

  As I said those words the room started to spin. The faces of the Saints came alive and seemed to circle me as they shed tears of blood and thin beads of sweat dripped down their foreheads.

  Vomit slowly built up in the back of my throat and I wildly convulsed until I fell to the ground. I was somewhere between death and a dream, caught between that unstable place that rests in the middle of sanity and madness. I peered up at Edmond through half-closed eyes. He stood there watching me as if nothing were wrong at all. A satisfied smirk played on his lips and I could tell he was taking pleasure in the torture I was going through.

  A pain so brutal took a hold of me and an intense agony ripped through my stomach as if a thousand razor sharp teeth were trying to claw their way out of me. Something within my stomach wildly jerked from side to side and the repulsive sensation of snakes slithering under my skin become overwhelming. Fantastical demons, ghouls and shadows surrounded me as tiny baby cockroaches started to crawl out of my mouth. Moans of anguish escaped my lips as the thin and slithery tail of a snake started to makes it way out of my nose. Spasms of pain ripped through me and threatened to knock me unconscious.

  “Help…” My voice came out in light gasps as cockroach after cockroach crawled out of me. I knew what this was. I had been hit with a Live in you Things Trick. This particular trick was rather gruesome and strictly Hoodoo. It could be administered through food or laced into clothes. Once hitting the target’s blood-stream it caused insects and other animals to grow inside the victim and eat them from the inside out.

  “Edmond, why?” I asked through wild croaks. “Why? How”

  He stood above me with his arms crossed. “I’m trying to get rid of the disease that rests within your very soul, sweet Cecile. Once your disease is cured we’ll be together for forever and forever. This disease has turned you against me and has made you rebel. It’s made you forget your place in the world and I’m here to help you remember that you’ll never escape. Ever.”

  Words refused to come out. The revolting sensation of tiny spiders crawling under my skin blinded me with pain and disgust. Fury and frustration shot through me but surprisingly no tears fell. How the hell was Edmond doing this?

  I mentally begged the spirits for help. Please. Help. Please. This isn’t right.

  “Take off the wedding dress,” whispered Erzulie. “The dress is fixed with the Trick. Take it off.”

  I desperately tried to unlace the corset but shivers of pain shot through me, leaving me disorientated and confused. I felt Edmond’s hands on me making the whole situation all the more traumatizing and disgusting.

  I knew I needed real help. “Marinette,” I whispered. “Please. The time for brute force is here.”

  Wild rings of laughter filled the church and the scent of blood and gasoline hung thick in the air.

  Edmond released me and he immediately fell backwards as if someone had given him a forceful push.

  In a gust of relentless fury, a very determined Marinette emerged from the darkness and poured gasoline over my head. Sheers of pain shot through me as the spiders, cockroaches and snakes started to expel themselves from my body at a rapid pace.

  I screamed and hollered as they stormed out of me in hordes. I pulled my hair and barfed up thick, tar-like pools of blood. Marinette hacked off the restrictive corset strings and I quickly climbed out of the wedding dress and ran towards my nightgown.

  Edmond gripped my ankle and I fell with a deafening crash. “Sweet, Cecile. Where are you going? Our souls belong together now and for always, can’t you see? We’re married now. We’re married for eternity. Isn’t that what you want? I heard you tell my cousin that you don’t want to be a placée.”

  I shook him off of me and reached for my nightgown.

  Marinette stood over him and knocked him over the head with her gasoline filled glass bottle.

  Edmond’s mouth fell open in horror and the tiny blue veins on his neck started to bulge. A thick, pool of blood streamed out of the side of his head and his eyes closed.

  Marinette laughed that haunting laugh of hers and reached for her machete. “REVOLUTION!”

  “No!” I screamed. “NO! Not that!”

  Her red eyes gleamed. “Why? Hasn’t he done enough?”

  “Yes. He has. But I can’t and don’t want to be like him. That’s not going to help.”

  Her full lips pursed in disapproval. She withdrew her machete and smacked Edmond again with her bottle.

  “Enough!” I hollered.

  “If you don’t kill him now it won’t end well!”

  “I’ll take my chances but I won’t live with his blood on my hands.”

  “You’re weak!” she taunted. “Weak! Weak!”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Running around and chopping people’s heads off with a machete isn’t the only way.” I swallowed the cockroach/gasoline infused lump that had built up at the back of my throat. “It can’t be the only way.”

  After bargaining with Marinette I ran down the dark, lampless street in a blind haste. The contradictory smell of death and sweet honeysuckle accompanied me as I navigated my way through the uneven grooves. I was oblivious to the never-ending laughter and music that seeped out of open windows and ballroom doors, and tried to ignore the stares that followed me. Fatigue and paranoia were sneaking up on me as I tried to make sense of what had just happened. My tears had vanished altogether and a vague numbness had replaced my fear by the time I reached home.

  Justine answered the front door. Her face was a mask of horror and disgust as she took in the sight of my blood/gasoline soaked nightgown.

  “What in God’s name?” she asked.

  “Long story. Where is Tante Celeste?”

  “She’s in the parlor with Emilie.”

  I found Tante Celeste and Emilie curled up on the silk couch, books in hand and determined expressions on their faces. Tante had made it her personal mission to teach Emilie how to read and write and gave her lessons every night after dinner.

  They both glanced up simultaneously.

  “Cecile! What happened?” Tante Celeste and Emilie hurried over to me.

  I wanted to speak but the words wouldn’t come out.

  Emilie shook me lightly. Her blue eyes were full of concern and worry. “Cecile, it’s okay,” she said softly. “Tell us what happened.”

  I explained the whole story and my heart beat faster and faster as I recalled the details and tried to make sense of the bizarre night.

  “Another attack by a King or Queen,” said Tante Celeste after I had finished my story. “They’re using Edmond to get to you. They clearly want you out of the picture so they can be the official King or Queen.” Anger filled her hazel eyes and her beautiful face contorted in anger as she glanced at me from head to toe. “This is ridiculous. This city can be so frustrating!”

  I smiled despite my situation. I had never seen her get so upset before. It was kind of cute. “But why?” I asked. “Why would they want to help Edmond? And why would he turn to a King or Queen? He’s terrified of all things supposedly savage.”

  “His obsession with you and lust for domination far outweigh his fear. It’s clear h
e wants to regain his control over you and will stop at nothing to do so. Besides he’s probably not very happy that you’re openly flouting your little arrangement with his cousin so publicly.” She raised her eyebrow and gave me a knowing glance.

  “Arrangement! It’s not an arrangement. Nothing is going on with Lucus; I mean, Edmond’s cousin.” I made a pathetic attempt at defending myself.

  “According to Pere Antonio there is.”

  “Oh Dieu! Even the Pere? Is there anyone in this city who doesn’t love to gossip?”

  “Non.”

  I let out a low sigh. “What can I do? What can we do? Do you think it’s Doctor John? Why would he want to help Edmond?”

  Doctor John was quickly becoming one of New Orleans most sought-after Voodoo Kings. He was ultra-competitive, very daunting, and wasn’t afraid to resort to very unconventional methods to get the job done. I had seen him in the French Market a few times. With tribal scars adorning his cheeks, intimidating height and ever watchful cat-like eyes, he played the part of Voodoo King very well. He had been a former slave but now he owned countless properties in the Vieux Carré along with numerous wives and slaves.

  Tante Celeste took a deep breath. “I’m not sure if it’s Doctor John but I’ll pay him a little visit tomorrow to find out. In the meantime we’re not going to let anything happen to you. He’s not going to hurt you ever again. Go and take a spiritual bath and get to bed. I’m going to pass some Goofer Dust over Edmond’s tracks. That will keep him away from the house. We’ll figure this out. I promise.” She gave me a tight hug and left to prepare the Goofer Dust.

  Emilie placed her arms around me. “I’m so sorry, Cecile. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. I’ll help you prepare the bath.”

  “No. I’m the one who is sorry, Emilie,” I whispered. “I’m sorry for all of the years I never. I never.” The words didn’t come out. “Maybe it isn’t safe for us here. Maybe you were right. Maybe we should leave this city and go up North. We’ll be safe there. You’ll be safe there. Away from this world.”