“I did when I was a little girl. Mom would get me out a mason jar and poke holes in the lid. I’d catch a bunch and put the jar on the veranda and watch it glow all night long.” She frowned. “But they’d always be dead by morning.”
“Poor man’s lanterns.”
“I guess you could say that. I used to catch cicadas and tie a string behind their big bug eyes and let them fly around. Tante Cally calls them poor man’s kites.” Althea frowned. “Mom said it was cruel, but I don’t think bugs have feelings, do you?”
Mr. Lindt didn’t answer but continued to gaze out into the dusk.
“Are the fireflies always that color here?” he asked.
“Greenish yellow like everywhere else I suppose. Are there any other kind?”
“Sometimes they flash purple.”
“I have never heard of such a thing. Violet moiselles.” Althea laughed. “You’re pulling my leg.”
“It doesn’t happen often,” Lindt admitted. “But if you do happen to see purple fireflies—violet moiselles—will you let me know?”
“Sure. I’ll even catch some for you if you like.”
Mr. Lindt laughed. “That won’t be necessary. Just let me know okay?”
“Althea propped her elbows on the table. “You are a peculiar man, Mr. Lindt. Are all Yankees like you?”
Again Mr. Lindt laughed. “There aren’t too many like me, no.”
“Why are you so interested in les moiselles?”
“Oh I’m not interested in just fireflies, but life in general.” He uttered a sigh of pure contentment. “Like this beautiful place. It’s so peaceful and serene here. And so alive. Time slows down and a man has a chance to catch his breath.”
“It’s dull here. I’d like to go to a big city, like New Orleans, or Houston or maybe even Dallas. Or Paris. I’ve always wanted to go to Paris and live in a big house.”
“If you went, what would you do?”
“I suppose it don’t matter does it? I’m getting married and then I’ll be stuck in Louisiana forever.”
“Maybe so, maybe not. Your fiancé is well off, is that correct? If so he could be doing business in London, or maybe even Paris. Think about it, you could be living in France by this time next year.”
“How can you be so sure?”
He laughed. “I’m not. Nothing is certain, because everything constantly changes. But it is certainly a possibility, wouldn’t you agree?”
Althea rested her chin in her hand and gazed out toward the docks. “I don’t know. The bayou stays the same.”
“It may seem that way now, but will it still be this way ten years from now, or twenty or even fifty?”
“I suppose it would.”
“No, sadly it won’t. In the future, loggers will come in and take out all the timber. The bayou will become clogged with silt and debris from clear cutting and will dry up altogether. Then there are robber barons that will never see this as a sanctuary for the soul weary or a paradise for sportsmen but as another opportunity to make themselves richer than they deserve to be. They’d buy up all of this, break it into lots and sell it off to the low minded but affluent who think of nothing but themselves and their—” he cut himself off. “I’m sorry, I must be boring you.”
“A little,” Althea admitted. “But mostly it sounds perfectly awful.”
“That’s the nature of change. Just when you think you’ve got everything figured out, or that you’ll think that one thing will last forever it will vanish.” His hazel eyes glinted in the twilight. “Do you understand?”
Althea laughed, “Not in the slightest.”
Lindt laughed. “I’m afraid I am a terrible bore.”
“Not at all,” Althea said leaning forward. “Tell me more.”
“What I’m trying to say is that everything is in a constant state of flux.” He paused considering. “The future is only seconds ahead; the past is already dead and gone. We live in a cusp between the two extremes, but it’s a very small cusp. You don’t know from one moment to another what’s going to happen. You might marry Hank and live happily ever after, or you might run away with someone else and live unhappily ever after. Or you might decide to leave on your own accord and find love somewhere else with someone you’d never dreamed existed. Did that make it clearer?”
“Not in the least,” Althea said, laughing.
Mr. Lindt laughed. “I’m afraid I made a mess out of trying to explain a concept I myself barely understand.”
Althea bit her lip. A thought was forming but she was too afraid to say it aloud.
“But then there’s God,” Mr. Lindt said, and Althea got the creepy feeling that he just read her mind. “Even the Great Being is not as infallible as we would like to think. Otherwise it would have created a permanent universe. Instead, it’s only temporary. Everything the Great Being created is doomed to decay, and yet is again reborn, over and over again.”
Althea looked up at the stars peeking through the trees. The moon, full and deeply yellow, was rising. “Even the moon and stars?” She asked.
“Even them,” Mr. Lindt said.
“Somehow that sounds wrong,” Althea said. “That nothing God made is going to last. It’s like saying it is a sin somehow.”
“It’s not a sin, it’s the simple truth. And there’s no reason why, after the universe is destroyed that it cannot be remade.”
The conversation was interrupted by headlights bounding up the driveway. The Cadillac stopped in front of the house and Ruby rolled down the driver’s side window.
“Hurry up and get dressed,” she told Althea. “We’re going out to dinner.”
“Mom how can we afford—”
“Just do as you’re told, and make it snappy. The Cathars are meeting us in Alexandria in an hour.”
“You’d better run along,” Mr. Lindt said confidentially. “And don’t forget about the fireflies now.”
“Purple fireflies, yes I’ll remember.”
Chapter Four
Althea didn’t remember. She’d forgotten the entire conversation as she rushed up the flight of stairs into the apartment she and her mother shared. She stripped out of her clothes, took a rag from the bathroom sink, washed herself quickly, added powder and shimmied into the pink tea length dress her mother bought for her. There were silk hose too. Not nylons because her mother thought wearing nylons was tacky. So she added more powder to her feet and legs and slipped into the stockings as carefully as if she were defusing a bomb. It wouldn’t do to run them, she thought as she slid them over her slender thighs and attached them to her garter belt. I know these things cost a fortune and if I tear one Mom will rip a hole out of me.
Once dressed, Althea slipped into a pair of high heels and waddled to the bathroom sink to apply a faint tint of rouge and some lipstick.
She dealt with her hair as best as she could and stumbled out of the apartment and onto the landing. There, she hiked up her skirt and clomped horse-like down the stairs and out to the veranda.
Mr. Lindt was still sitting at the table, putting the playing cards back in order. Mrs. Ramsay sat in front of him. She didn’t wear her dark glasses and the white cataracts on her eyes gleamed as she rested with her hands delicately placed atop of her white cane. She was chattering aimlessly about an incident that occurred in 1932. Nobody was really listening, although Mr. Lindt nodded sympathetically, and uttered an encouraging word or two at the right times. The old lady’s drone merged with the sounds of bullfrogs, crickets and bachelor birds. Cally was arranging boiled ham on a platter along with thick slices of Swiss cheese, humming softly to herself.
“You look very nice in your new dress, Miss Thibodaux,” Mr. Lindt said.
“We don’t talk about young ladies and their dresses down here, Mr. Lindt,” Cally corrected. “Especially not in front of her mother,” she added, jerking her head toward the Caddy.
Mr. Lindt tipped his hat. “Forgive me if I offended,” he said.
“Oh I wish I could see you Alth
ea. I bet you look just like a princess about to go meet your Prince Charming,” Mrs. Ramsay said.
“You’re going to miss your Prince Charming if you don’t hurry up,” Cally said. “I see you haven’t been practicing in those heels like your ma wanted; you’re clomping all over the place in those things.”
“I hate them,” Althea said. “I don’t see why I have to bother. I’m not dressing like this when Hank and I get married.”
“Here, let me help you down the steps. Lord knows it won’t do if you break your neck on your way down to the car,” Cally said, ignoring her niece’s protests.
“You’re treating me like a brood mare.”
“Hush,” Cally admonished.
“Have a lovely evening, ladies,” Mr. Lindt called from the porch.
“Thank you,” Althea replied as she half stumbled into the car.
“Hurry up and get the door closed, Althea. We’re already late. Cally, don’t wait up for us. It’ll be after midnight before we get in,” Ruby said.
“Oh don’t worry,” Cally said, smiling at Mr. Lindt. “I think I can find a way to keep myself occupied.”
“Oh I’m sure you will. And you’ll have to go confess about it on Friday.”
“Well at least I have something to confess about,” Cally retorted. Mr. Lindt and Mrs. Ramsay laughed.
Ruby slammed the car into gear and shoved her foot down on the accelerator. The car swept gracefully around the circle driveway and out onto the open road.
“Where were you?” Ruby growled. “I hollered until I was hoarse and you never came.”
“I went for a row,” Althea said. She folded her arms across her breasts and sulked. Ruby saw her daughter’s defiant pose and punched her arm.
“Sit up straight. You look like a floozy when you slump like that.” Ruby scowled, which, Althea noted was becoming a permanent expression. “I know where you were,” Ruby accused. “You were out with that boy, weren’t you?”
“Suppose I was?” Althea retorted. “It’s my life and I’ll do what I want.”
Ruby slapped her daughter hard across the face. Althea rocked back, shocked.
“I’m your mother and you’ll do what I tell you, or so help me I’ll beat the smartness right out of you.”
Althea slapped her mother’s arm. “That’s a right fine thing to do. Bruise me up before I meet the boy of your dreams.”
“You want another one? I can make it a matching set.”
“I love Jake. I want to be with him,” Althea said, her fists clenched. “And if you hit me again, so help me you’d better pull the car over because I’ll give your saggy old ass a beating it’ll never forget.”
Ruby slapped her again.
“Stop it!”
“Then be the lady I raised you to be and not a smart assed little swamp rat that’s cruising for a bruising.”
“Says you.”
“Well, I’ve got news for you darling. Jake doesn’t love you.” Ruby paused, letting the information sink in. “Wanna know what I know?”
“I know you’re a lying old skank,” Althea accused.
Ruby paused again, seeming to consider whether to continue, then said, “I’m not a stupid woman, Althea. And I’m not being cruel and horrible, no matter how much you might think so.”
“That’s hard to take with you wailing on me every time I open my mouth.”
“That’s because it’s the only way I can get your attention sometimes.”
“It’s because you’re mean.”
“It’s because I want what’s best for you.”
“All I want is Jake.”
“That’d be all well and good if he wanted you, but he doesn’t. I know what he wants and I know what he’ll do to you and when he gets what he wants, he’ll leave you flat broke and pregnant. And then where will you be? You’ll just be another tramp with a lost reputation and a bastard child.”
“Jake’s not like that. He loves me. He said so.”
“Oh, I just bet he does.”
“Why do you care? You’ve been trying to marry me off since I began to bleed. Let me marry Jake and I’ll be out of your hair forever.”
Ruby snorted. “Jake is full of big talk. He’s not going to marry you, and you’re a little fool if you think he is.” She paused again.
“How do I know?” she asked, then added before Althea could answer, “I’ll tell you how I know. I caught lover boy with Matilda Larou in his father’s car down by the railroad tracks. They were going at it hot and heavy too. So hot and heavy he didn’t even see me pull up beside them.”
“What were you doing down by the railroad tracks?” Althea asked.
“Getting my hair done at Michelle’s, that’s what. If you’d gone with me you’d seen it for your own self.”
Althea’s heart plummeted. “That can’t be true; he was with me this afternoon.”
“All afternoon?”
“No,” Althea admitted. “We were together only a couple of hours.”
“Plenty of time for him to get into the car and drive over to Matilda’s?”
Althea thought back. She had dropped him off at his folks before poling the raft back to the docks. It wouldn’t have taken him a few minutes to change into clean clothes, get the car and drive over to Matilda’s. And Althea, feeling addled by the experience under the wisteria, hadn’t noticed the passage of time.
“Is it true? Is he really two timing me?”
“When have I ever lied to you bay-bay?”
“Never,” Althea muttered as she flopped back into the seat. “Although you never bothered to tell me where or who my father is.”
“I never lied about that.”
“You didn’t tell the truth, either. You go on about my reputation, what about yours?”
Ruby fell silent.
“You’re spending way too much money again. The Cathars—they’re going to find out we’re broke, you know. Trying to hide our poverty is like trying to hide an elephant in the hall closet. And that’s not very honest is it?”
Ruby said nothing.
“You know you’ll have to tell them something about my father, or at least tell me so I won’t have to make up something if Hank asks.”
“I’ll work it out,” Ruby said, her voice low and tense.
Althea wasn’t buying it. She slunk lower into the seat and folded her arms across her chest.
“Now listen to your momma,” Ruby said, her voice still low. “Don’t make the mistakes I made when I was your age.”
“It’d be nice to know what exactly those mistakes were,” Althea grumbled.
“Look, Althie. Do this one thing for me, okay? Do this and be content knowing you made your momma’s only wish for you come true.”
“You mean content money wise. There’s more to life than just that.”
“If you’re talking about love, that’s all just plain foolishness. Love is just make-believe romantic nonsense. It looks good in the movies but it doesn’t happen in real life. Trust me, I know. The best thing I can give you as a mother is a life of ease and comfort, and marrying the Cathar boy will do that for you. Even if you have kids there’ll be nannies to raise them, and boarding schools later on.”
She paused, chewing on her lip. “Usually men like him want their one male heir and after that they’ll leave you alone. Afterwards, he’ll take some putain for a mistress and spend the rest of his time with her. That’s a blessing if you ask me. Then you’ll be free to do whatever you like.”
“That sounds perfectly abysmal.”
“You’ll feel differently when you’re up to your elbows in soapy water washing out shitty diapers.”
“Why won’t you tell me about what happened to make you hate men so much?” Althea asked, changing the subject. “Did my old man run off and leave us alone? Is that what happened?”
“In a manner of speaking, but I don’t want to talk about that. Let the dead rest, Althie, okay? I’m far more concerned about your future than whatever happened i
n the past.”
They rode in silence for several miles. “Where are we going for dinner?” Althea asked.
“The Dupree.”
“You mean that ritzy four star joint out near Alexandria?”
“Yes, I do. And I expect you to be on your very best behavior.” Ruby paused. “I don’t expect you to order much. The last thing we need is for you to grow out of that wedding dress. And don’t order anything sloppy either. The last thing I want to see is a stain on that dress. I want to take it back when you’re done with it.”
“I’ll have air pudding then,” Althea said.
“You’ll have a four ounce sirloin well done and a small salad without dressing. No potato, bread or dessert. Got it?”
“I got it.”
The conversation ground down to a halt. “Where are we having it?” Althea asked after a lengthy pause.
“Having what?”
“The wedding of course. The wedding of your dreams, remember?
“The Saint Bernard Cathedral.”
“But that’ll cost a fortune,” Althea exclaimed, “how in the world are you going to pay for it?”
“The money I got for the car will pay for it.”
“Les boules.”
“Don’t be vulgar. It was only a car. I’ll get a new one.”
“Sure, when I marry money I’ll buy you a fleet of them.”
“Watch that sass, girl.”
“I’ll watch it as best as I can.”
Ruby scowled. They fell silent once again. Althea watched several cars pass.
“What do you think of Mr. Lindt?” Ruby asked after several minutes passed.
“He’s all right I guess. He’s old. Why, have you decided to marry me off to him in case this Cathar thing doesn’t work out?”
“Cally likes him,” Ruby replied, ignoring her daughter’s remark.
“She likes men period.”
“He seems like a decent enough sort. He’s quiet and polite, and very neat for a man. He doesn’t leave ashes and trash on the veranda like some of the other male occupants have in the past. I like that he doesn’t put on airs the way most Yankees do either,” Ruby noted.
“That’s about the nicest thing I’ve ever heard you say about a man. Are you interested?”
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