“Althea? Althea where are you?”
“Damn, it’s my mother,” she swore. “Hank, promise me something?”
Hank said, “Sure what?”
“Promise me that whatever happens, everything will work out for the best.”
Hank smiled and kissed her on the forehead. “I promise. That I think I can do.”
“Come on then, before your parents come out here as well. They’ll all see this beautiful place and I want it to belong to us, to be ours forever.”
“Okay,” Hank said, taking her by the hand. On impulse, Althea stood on tiptoe and kissed him. Surprised but pleased, Hank held her close, returning the kiss.
Fireflies swirled around them, creating a complex network of beautiful green gold lights. One of the fireflies flashed purple. Althea was to preoccupied to notice.
Chapter Six
“Did Momma do good, or what?” Ruby bragged the next day. They were all sitting outside, enjoying a cool breeze brought to them from towering thunderheads in the distance. Everyone brought their lunches out to the veranda, and Cally helped Mrs. Ramsay to her chair. Mr. Lindt sat in his usual spot by the railing sipping sweet tea from a large mason jar.
“You did good, Mom,” Althea admitted. “He really is a nice boy.”
“Think you could live with him then?” Cally asked.
“Don’t ask me that question, tante Cal. I just barely know him.”
“You’ll know more about him than you’ll care to after your wedding night,” Ruby said.
“Then why marry me off at all? Why not stick me in a convent somewhere instead?” Althea asked.
“Because your mother’s selfish,” Cally replied as she ruffled a pack of cards. “She wants grandbabies.”
Ruby snorted.
Mr. Lindt chuckled and shook his head.
“And whatever is your problem, Monsieur?” Ruby asked.
“Nothing in the wide world, madam I assure you,” he said.
Cally laughed.
“Well I’m glad all of you think that Althea’s future is worth snickering at,” Ruby scathed, “because I don’t think there’s a damned thing funny about it.”
“Well the joke’s gonna be on you, because—” Althea’s voice faltered.
“Because of what?” Ruby asked, her expression turning to granite. Mr. Lindt and Cally looked up, curious.
“Because maybe Hank and I don’t want to,” Althea said. She crossed her arms and said, “You can lead us to the altar but you can’t make us say I do.”
“Oh, I know what this is about,” Ruby said, ignoring Althea’s remark. “Hank told you about wanting to join the priesthood, didn’t he?” She waved Althea’s protest aside. “I know all about that. It’s a ridiculous idea. He has enough money to live a life of contented bliss and he wants to spend his existence inside a musty old monastery?” She snorted. “And as handsome as he is? Lord, what a waste. It’s a good thing he has parents who know what’s best for him.”
“He wouldn’t last a week inside a monastery. His kind never do,” Cally agreed, giving the cards another good shuffle.
“You still can’t make us,” Althea said.
“You’ll do as you’re told, young lady,” Ruby said.
Althea stuck her tongue at her.
“Do it again and I’ll fillet it for supper.”
Cally cackled.
“Mr. Lindt,” Ruby said, turning to him. “I know I’m being forward but I have a favor to ask.”
“Certainly. How may I help?”
“Althea’s father—” Ruby paused, considered, cleared her throat and continued. “Althea’s father won’t be attending the wedding, and since we have no male heirs among us I was wondering if you’d do the honor of giving Althea away.”
“Ruby Marie Thibodaux, you old hypocrite,” Althea said.
“Hush your smart mouth,” Ruby snapped. “Well,” she said, turning to Mr. Lindt, “how about it?”
Mr. Lindt gazed thoughtfully into space, and then said, “of course. It will be a privilege”
“Change your mind about egg-headed atheists, Mommy dearest?” Althea scathed.
Mr. Lindt snickered.
“Never you mind,” Ruby growled. “Lord, girl, can’t we go one day without you going at me?”
“Nope.”
Cally laughed.
“Where is my father?” Althea asked abruptly. “Why don’t you ever talk about him?”
“That’s not your concern,” Ruby snapped. “Just be happy Mr. Lindt has been gracious enough to walk you down the aisle.”
“Of course if you’d prefer someone else,” Mr. Lindt interjected.
“No, you’ll do just fine. Now you need to go to confession, Althea, like you promised.”
“I didn’t promise. You promised for me.”
“That’s beside the point. Now get ready and I’ll drive you. I need to talk to Father Le Fleur about renting the church.”
“The church? Are you talking about the Grand Beauregard Cathedral or Saint Bernies?” Cally asked.
“What do you think? Mom doesn’t go half way,” Althea said.
“Ruby you didn’t! You already paid for the hall at Bernies.”
“That’s where the car money went,” Althea said, feeling smug.
“My God, Ruby you can’t afford that. Even with the car money it’ll cost a fortune and you’ve already spent—”
“Hush your mouth Cal. What I’m doing is my own business.”
“But you already rented—”
“I got my money back,” Ruby interrupted. “We’ll be having it at Saint Bernard’s. And please don’t call it Saint Bernies, Althie, that’s just vulgar. Besides that reception hall at the Grand was too small, don’t you remember me telling you that?”
“Too small for whom? How many people are you expecting?”
“Everybody.”
“Mom is upping the ante, Tante, going for the more expensive church and all.”
“I most certainly am not. It’s simply more convenient.”
“Well don’t make it my problem when the bill collector comes around. Because I’m not covering you for this sister dear.”
“Believe me, you won’t.” Ruby turned and glared at Althea. “Why are you still here?”
“I’m going, I’m going,” Althea muttered, clomping loudly into the house.
“I swear,” Ruby said, “I don’t know what I’m going to do with her.”
“Well as soon as she’s married and out of your hands you won’t have to worry about it anymore.” Cally replied. “Isn’t that the plan?”
“Ha, that’s what you think, Sister.” Ruby replied. “I’ll worry about that girl until the day I die.”
****
Althea gazed up at the tall stately building that was Saint Bernard Church feeling slightly sick to her stomach and wishing she were anywhere else but here.
“What are you waiting for?” Ruby asked as she stepped off of the curb and onto the sidewalk leading to the sanctuary. “Go get it done.”
Ruby gave her daughter a gentle push towards the building. Althea shuffled forward, and then stopped and asked. “Well? Are you going to confess today too or what?”
“I have arrangements to make with Monsignor,” Ruby said. “I’ll confess later.”
Althea folded her arms and adopted a defiant stance. “I’ll confess when you do.”
Ruby snorted, clearly exasperated. “Oh all right. Fine. I’ll go to confession first.” She scowled, grabbed her daughter by the elbow and led her into the sanctuary.
It was cool and dim, the ceiling high and vaulted. Statues of the Virgin Mary and a few saints that Althea should be able to name but couldn’t and didn’t really care about stood in a small grotto on the far side of the sanctuary. On the left hand side a line of dark paneled wooden confessionals stood. Althea stopped at the farthest one from the door. A little green light above the door was on, meaning that the priest was inside, waiting for the next parishioner. She turned and watched whil
e her mother, snorting with exasperation, stepped into the one next to her. Althea briefly considered running out of the church, decided against it, and instead went into the confessional.
She knelt before the wire screen and collected her thoughts. Althea heard the shuffle of feet and the rustle of cloth. Between the lattice-work she could see a shadow. She crossed herself and said, “Bless me Father for I have sinned. It’s been one month since my last confession.” She paused then said. “I don’t feel like I’ve sinned at all for loving Jake. I don’t see how love can be a sin.”
“That depends on your definition of love,” the priest replied. “Do you love him as Christ loves you, or do you love him as a sister to a brother or as a lover?”
“I love him because I want him to be my husband.”
“There is nothing wrong with that.”
“But I don’t know if he loves me in the same way. He says he does, but then he says he doesn’t want to...” Her voice trailed. She bit her lip. How much should I tell?
“Doesn’t want to do what?” the priest gently asked.
“He won’t stand up to Mom,” Althea blurted. “My mother is crazy. She’s picked out a boy for me to marry and I met him last night and he really is a very nice guy, but he doesn’t want to get married either. He wants to be a priest. And Jake says he wants us to get married someday but—”
“—Wait, my child, hold on. I’m having trouble keeping up,” the priest said, humor tinting his voice.
Althea took a deep breath and explained the situation slowly.
“Ah, I see,” the priest said after she finished.
“Hank is really cute and I think we could be friends, but since he wants to be a priest I feel it’s wrong to try and pursue a relationship with him.”
“That’s a noble sentiment my child, but don’t you think your reluctance to marry this young man has more to do with defying your mother’s wishes than your fiancé’s desire to join the priesthood?”
Althea bit her lower lip. “I don’t know.”
“And this young man, the one who wants to become a priest, does he have a true vocation or is he saying it to get out of marrying you?”
“Father,” Althea said with all sincerity, “I believed Hank when he says he has a true vocation.”
There was silence for a moment. Then the priest said. “Are you absolutely sure?”
“I can only go by what he tells me, Father. But he says he’s sincere and I believe that he is.”
“Then it would be a mortal sin to keep him from his vocation.”
“I’d go to hell even though I’m being forced to marry this boy?”
Silence. Then. “And when is this wedding to take place?”
“Two weeks from now, on my eighteenth birthday. Father, I do think Hank is a nice boy, I really do. But I don’t want to go to hell because of my mother.”
“You won’t go to hell,” the priest reassured her.
“But what about my mother? I’m supposed to be obedient toward my parents. Do I have to still be obedient even though what she’s doing is a sin?”
“That’s a difficult question. But let’s focus on what’s going on now.”
“Yes Father.”
“Do his parents believe this young man has a true vocation?”
“No.”
“And what about this other young man? Are his intentions toward you sincere?”
“I don’t know that either,” she admitted. “I’d like to think so. He says that he loves me but then he wants to...” She trailed off, heat rising to her face, embarrassed.
“I see. And have you let him?”
“No. Well, not all the way.”
“I see.”
“I’m sorry, Father. I’m so confused. I don’t know if I really love him or if he really loves me. I asked if he’d run away with me. I thought if we got away from Rapides Parish and were on our own for a while we could figure out what we want.”
“You could run across the world and not escape sin, my child.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“Do you know what you want to do with your life?”
“Somebody asked me that a few days ago, and I’ve been thinking about that. To be honest, I really don’t know what I want. Mom has told me what I wanted all my life. To try and think that there’s a life outside of an arranged marriage, well...it’s hard.”
“Marriage is sacred,” the priest replied. “And you must obey your mother. But marriage is also until death do you part.” There was another pause as the priest considered. “You do know that upon your eighteenth birthday you’re an adult and you can say no to your mother’s arrangements.”
“I know but even if I said no it wouldn’t matter. She’d drag me down to the altar kicking and screaming all the way.”
Althea’s lip trembled and tears spilled down her cheeks. Until now she’d kept the knowledge of her impending wedding at arm’s length, but now it was facing her and the truth of it was ugly and terrifying. “Mom... she’s poured so much money into this wedding, more than we can afford. And. . . .all I know for sure is that I don’t want to get married. At least not like this.”
“What if you had more time to think it over? More time to get to know your fiancé? Would that make a difference?”
“I don’t think so, Father.”
“What do you think would be helpful?”
“If my mother would just butt out and let me figure out what to do with my life.”
“She’s doing what she thinks is best for you.”
“Yes, Father.”
“And marriage isn’t a bad thing.”
“I know. But shouldn’t it be my choice?”
“Of course.”
“Then when the day comes you won’t be surprised when I say no?”
“Nothing surprises me these days, chere.”
Althea laughed. “It’s not a matter of saying no, it’s a matter of saying no in front of God, the Church and my mother.”
“Just keep in mind what I said, and pray about this.”
“Yes, Father.”
“And no more messing around with boys.”
“Yes Father.”
“I absolve you. Now do twenty-five Hail Mary’s and go and sin no more.”
“Thank you Father.”
Althea left the confessional, feeling more lost and confused than ever. She glanced over her shoulder and saw her mother in deep conversation with Monsignor. She didn’t go to confession at all that sneak, Althea thought. She felt heat rush to her cheeks. And she needs it worse than I do.
Not bothering to wait for her mother to finish, Althea left the church and headed toward the drug store, her religious duties forgotten as soon as she left the sanctuary. She would get a coke float while she waited for her mother to conclude the day’s business. Sure, Mom would raise a fuss about her eating something sweet, fearing Althea would grow out of the wedding dress, but deep down she liked the idea. Sure it was spiteful, but wouldn’t it serve the old bat right?
It’s not fair, Althea fumed. It’s not fair to me, or to Hank; especially not to Hank. Especially now that I know he’d rather be with God than with me.
Strangely that thought made her feel a bit jealous. She shook off the awkward sensation and proceeded down the sidewalk, noting her lengthening shadow as it followed her along. It projected itself onto store fronts and neatly trimmed lawns. She wasn’t paying too much attention to it; after all she was deep in thought about the whole business of marriage and priesthoods and trying to determine exactly what she wanted for herself. But still, something pinged, not quite right as she walked along. She paused, shook her head and resumed her dark ruminations.
I can’t get out of this marriage unless Hank goes to the priest himself and declares his vocation, she thought. Even though he wants to obey his parents, what’s happening is wrong on all accounts. I have to get him to come and talk to Monsignor. Get him to confess his vocation and maybe even declare sanctuary in order to st
op this insanity.
It would save Hank, but not herself, and she knew it. Even if Althea could talk Hank into joining the priesthood, it wouldn’t matter. Ruby would find another man for her to marry, and this time she might not be as choosy. But wasn’t all of this a moot point? Althea asked herself. At eighteen she could tell her mother to butt out. And when she did...
Something strange caught Althea’s attention. She stopped and looked, uncomfortably aware that two shadows were following her. One was her own. One was darker and more...alive somehow than its mate.
Someone or something was walking uncomfortably close. Close enough for its shadow to overlay hers. And yet, Althea couldn’t see anyone nearby. She stared at the twin shadows, feeling uncomfortable and out of place as if she suddenly stepped inside a house that wasn’t hers.
The street, as well as the sidewalks, was empty. The heat beat down upon her and she realized with a deep pang of fear that there was no sound. Her breath caught in her throat. Time itself seemed to wind down. It’s like yesterday, when Jake and I were making love on the raft and then we saw—
—that thing.
She laughed. It’s Mom’s shadow, of course. It has to be, she thought. She must have seen me leave the church and ran to catch up with me, to stop me from doing something diabolical, like devouring a coke float and growing out of my dress before Mom’s big day.
“It’s okay Mom,” she said as she turned around, expecting to face her mother. “I’m just going to the drugstore for a soda. And you don’t have to worry about that either. I’ll walk it off—”
Althea stopped in mid sentence, stunned as she stared down the sidewalk.
No one was there. She was alone, the heat beating down on her neck and shoulders. Cold sweat prickled on her brow. She rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand, her head thudding, feeling sickly disoriented
Althea glanced over her shoulder. The double shadow was still there. It crossed hers like a long thick black narrow mark. It seemed to have substance and depth. She looked around. The sky was milky blue. The sun was bright and the buildings looked normal with all their shadows behaving as shadows should. She looked back down at hers. Except for this one, she thought as dread clattered up her backbone. It’s a servant without a master. And that’s not possible. Shadows are cast by something. They don’t go off on their own. And they’re not so dark and not so real looking.
Wild Swans Page 8