Several miles down the road Laura found a mailbox with the house number she had been given, but there was no house in sight, only a lonely dirt road.
Laura rolled down her window, hoping the evening breeze would cool her perspiring body. Living her entire life in the desert, Laura had been unprepared for the smothering humidity of Louisiana.
With a weary sigh, Laura pulled onto the dirt drive. On either side of her, cypress trees threatened to overtake the narrow road. Laura’s imagination was rampant with visions of alligators and snakes.
Up ahead, Laura could make out the warm yellow glow of lighted windows. She sped up as fast as she dared. There was Jessup’s truck.
Relieved, Laura turned off the engine, and leaning back on the head rest she closed her eyes. The sense of coming home was powerful and comforting. Since the beginning of this nightmare, Jessup had been her one anchor to reality, and right now she felt she needed that more than anything else.
Leaving the Bronco, Laura climbed the wooden porch stairs where an old brown hound dog lay eyeing her without lifting his head. Straightening her shoulders she knocked firmly on the door. A moment later the door opened and Jessup stood in the entrance.
He looked upon her with curiosity, but his features were blank. There was no familiarity in his warm, dark eyes. Fear gripped Laura’s heart.
"It’s me ... Laura." She attempted a smile but failed miserably.
At first there was no reaction, but very slowly sparks of recognition entered his eyes and he smiled.
"Why, Laura, how you been girl?" He smiled but Laura could tell he was still slightly confused.
"Can I come in?" she asked.
Jessup stepped aside so she could enter.
"I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I didn’t realize who you were at first." He was shaking his head as if still trying to figure it out.
"How much of our time in Wyoming do you remember?" Laura decided to get right down to the amnesia problem.
"Weren’t we working a job there for Duccini, some time back?" He smiled weakly.
Laura nodded. "The Sungmanitu ... do you remember them?"
"Wasn’t there some kind of trouble with them?" Again he appeared to be confused, but whatever was fogging his memory was lifting away.
Jessup leaned against the small kitchen table and studied Laura in silent contemplation. His numb expression gradually took on the look of apprehension.
"The wolves ... they tried to kill us."
"No." Laura shook her head. "That was the Jaguars. Try harder, Jessup. It’s very important to me that you remember. I need your help."
Jessup left her standing there while he went to the sink and filled a glass with cold water. He drank it down in large gulps. When he was finished he set the glass on the counter and turned to Laura.
"I have forgotten my manners. Would you like something to drink?"
Laura shook her head.
"So ... what’s wrong, Laura? I thought that problem was basically solved when we left there?"
Laura’s smile was weak. "Maybe we should take a seat and I will fill you in on what’s going on."
As Laura talked she could tell he was remembering more and more. Just knowing she was not alone with this any longer was enough to abate her fear.
"Damn ... that’s even more to swallow than what I know to be real." He was dazed.
"I know it all seems so fantastic, even to me it does."
"So they actually have these cities that exist in a parallel dimension? And they think the baby you are going to have ... will fulfill some kind of prophecy for these Jaguars?" Jessup was sure no fairytale could be quite as imaginative as Laura’s story. But if one believed that a man could take the form of a wolf, which he himself had witnessed, he guessed the rest couldn’t be all that more farfetched.
"I need to hide out for a while ... until I can figure out how to keep them away from my baby." Laura was pleading for his help.
In deep thought, Jessup began to tap his long fingers on the tabletop.
"There is one thing that we might be able to do," he finally spoke.
Laura waited for him to continue.
"Eventually they will trace you here, but we might as well not make it easy for them," Jessup told her in that deep southern drawl she had come to love.
"Where are you going with this?" Laura smiled, really happy to have the old Jessup back.
"The bayou is a dangerous place, even for those who know it, and downright deadly if you are unfamiliar with it. If you were to disappear into the swamps, it's unlikely they would find you--even if they happened to trace you here."
Laura lifted her hands in a gesture of helplessness. "How can I do that?"
"Wait a minute and let me finish, why don’t you?" Jessup grumbled.
"Now as I was saying ... my Aunt Bellea lives deep in the swamps. She’s something of the legendary Voodoo Queen around here, but to me, she’s always just been plain old Aunt Bellea."
"So you are suggesting that I go stay with your aunt?" Laura looked doubtful.
"It’s the perfect solution. We’ll hide your auto someplace, so when they come looking for you, they’ll find nothing."
"It could be dangerous ... for you," Laura pointed out.
"I’m aware of that, but I survived them once before and I’m sure I’ll do so again," he assured her.
"It’s worth a try." Laura smiled.
"Do you think you were followed?" he asked.
"No, I think I was well away before they even figured out I was gone."
"That’s good. It will give us some leeway. We’ll get some sleep and take you out to Aunt Bellea first thing in the morning." Jessup leaned back in his chair and yawned.
"I’ll bed down on the couch tonight then ... if you don’t mind," Laura added.
"It sure will be fine to have some company for a change," he told her.
* * * *
Midmorning found them coming near a small house built on some kind of wooden platform above the water.
Laura’s face fell. "Is this it?"
Guessing her thoughts, Jessup tried to calm her discomfort. "Believe me, it’s much homier than what it looks. This is the way houses are built out here," he informed her.
A woman sat on the shack’s porch looking at them as they approached. Laura thought she must be more ancient than the swamp itself. If she had any hair, it was wrapped up tightly in the colorful scarf she wore on her head. Her dark skin was deeply lined with age.
"Aunt Bellea, I have brought you a visitor," Jessup called to her as he was docking the boat near the porch.
Jessup held out his hand to help Laura from the boat. The craft rocked as she tried to disembark. For the second time that day, she nearly ended up in the water.
"I just don’t think I’m meant for the water," Laura muttered once her feet were firmly placed on dry land.
Jessup laughed. "Much time out here and you’ll be getting about just like the Cajuns."
The wooden stairs creaked beneath their weight as she followed Jessup to the porch and stood before the old woman. Bellea’s sharp eyes seemed to look right through her and for a short time, Laura felt as if she could not breathe.
"Aunt Bellea, this is Laura Ellison from out west. She’s in powerful need of help right now." Jessup’s voice was grim.
"I know who she be." The old woman croaked out her words. "You be the one with the child that is human ... but is not human." It was a statement.
The look of utter shock on Laura’s face pried a cackle out of Bellea. "I was given signs that you would seek me out."
Laura’s eyes flew to Jessup. "Bellea just seems to know things," he explained with a sheepish smile.
Bellea slowly rose from her rocker and started for the door. Laura guessed they were to follow her. Once inside, Laura saw that Jessup had been right. The three room shack was exceptionally clean and appeared to be comfortable enough.
Without asking if they wanted anything, Bellea poured them
a glass of what Laura at first thought was water, but it tasted and smelled like mint.
Sitting at the small kitchen table they drank the mint juleps in silence. Laura was pleasantly surprised at how refreshing the drink was.
It was finally Jessup who started up a conversation. "I don’t know how long she will have to stay. Maybe until her child is born."
With a gnarled hand the old woman waved away Jessup’s words.
Bellea spoke to Jessup as if he were a foolish little boy. "She's meant to be here."
An hour later Jessup was bringing from the boat, the few things that Laura had managed to bring with her.
"I’ll be back to check on you in a couple of days," he told her.
"If it’s not too much trouble, could you see if you can pick me up a few books to read when you do?"
"Will do," he told her with a chuckle.
Laura watched him row away, her mind full of misgivings and her heart full of loneliness.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Bellea kept her so busy that the days passed more quickly than Laura would have believed. There was always something to mix or cook, some herb or root that had to be sought out in the swamp. Most every day they made a trip to visit someone who was feeling "Unda de weatha", as Bellea put it.
Every few days Jessup would visit to see how they were getting on. Always he would bring things that he thought the two of them might need.
Laura’s pregnancy was quickly becoming apparent. The roundness of her stomach was now visible unless she wore loose clothing. Bellea had begun a layette in blue.
When Laura asked her how she knew it was a boy, the woman answered impatiently.
"Girl, ya know as well as I do dat it’s a boy."
In the evenings after supper, they would sit on the porch and watch the fire flies dance in the night. Laura was the one who would do most of the talking. Bellea would listen and nod every once in a while as she knitted the baby another blanket.
Laura found that she was almost happy and would have been completely content if it were not for the dark thoughts that intruded on her each night when she lay down to sleep. During this time it was impossible to keep her pain at bay. As soon as she would close her eyes, visions of Tasha lying in Justin’s arms would leap before her. Tears would crowd into her eyes and her heart would fill with despair.
Tasha was his wife and had every right to be with him. It was she who should not be crying for someone else’s husband. Laura would remind herself of these facts over and over. Sometimes it worked, but most times it didn’t. Usually it was the movement of her child within her that would pull her from her misery.
The night was like so many before it, hot and so humid the swamp felt more like a steam bath. Laura slipped in and out of sleep, too uncomfortable to fall into oblivion.
"Lauraaa...." A little girl’s voice called to her from the swamps.
Laura jumped up, unsure if she had been dreaming.
"Lauraaa...," the voice called again. Leaving her cot she opened the door and stepped out onto the porch.
The bayou was alive with its night song ... but the voice had vanished.
Laura peered into the darkness. There was nothing that seemed unusual, but still the air seemed to crackle with the electricity of danger.
She could not dismiss it as a dream; it had been Rosa’s voice. Whenever Rosa had appeared before, it was to warn Laura of impending danger. Laura had no reason to doubt that it was any different this time.
After a long time, Laura turned to enter the shack, but the voice from behind her froze her in her tracks.
"Laura ... don’t go."
Laura turned sharply and was only mildly surprised to see the same little girl with dirty, cracked feet looking up at her from the bottom of the stairs.
The girl’s impish smile was not so much one of warmth, but of foreboding. "You are in danger, little sister."
Laura’s tongue felt swollen, making it impossible to utter a word, even if she had known what to say. The ghostly mist that emanated from the girl’s skin sent a shiver down Laura’s spine.
Finally words jumped from Laura’s tongue. "I’m so sorry for what happened to you, Rosa. I wish I could have known you."
Rosa’s dark eyes eerily reflected the moonlight. The amusement that danced within them was unnerving.
"Rosa always helped take care of baby Laura." The girl smiled.
"I don’t know what to do, Rosa, or where to go." Laura blurted out.
"It's not only wolves that can appear in sheep’s clothing." Rosa backed away until she had disappeared into the blackness of the swamp.
Laura took flight and screamed when she ran into Bellea who had been standing in the dark.
"It was a ghost," Laura blurted out.
The old woman’s cackle didn't set her at ease, but raked across her nerves. Striking a match, Bellea lit an oil lamp. The shack was filled with a warm gold glow.
"You have de sight somethin’ powerful."
Laura shook her head, not understanding what the old woman was saying.
"The dead walk among us, but it be only those with de sight dat can see ‘em."
"She said I was in danger."
"Yes, you be dat all right."
"What did she mean?"
Bellea put the lamp down on the kitchen table and wearily lowered herself into her wooden rocker.
"She be meaning dat you should trust no one."
"Why can’t they just leave me and my baby alone?" Laura cried out in fear and frustration.
"Yes, it be yer baby." Bellea nodded, "But dat baby also belongs to him ... and de wolves and all of de earth." The woman’s knowing eyes studied Laura.
Laura shook her head in denial. "No, he is mine."
"He does not know ‘bout de baby?"
"No, I never told him," Laura admitted.
"Dat white man, Brody is smitten wit ya, dat what Jessup told me." Bellea could not hide her smile, or her concern.
In the couple of months Laura had been living in the swamp, she had ventured out with Jessup on only a few occasions and had twice had the opportunity to meet one of Jessup’s business acquaintances.
Brody Cornell and Jessup had struck up a deal to go into a business venture together and since Jessup’s return to Louisiana, it had done very well. The swamp charters were a smash with the tourists and Jessup was happy to be working for himself instead of Duccini.
Even in her advancing pregnancy, Brody had made no secret of the fact that he found Laura to be attractive and she herself had to admit, the handsome Brody had more than his share of charm. In his mid-thirties, he was the image of a southern gentleman. The contrast of his fair hair and blue eyes to Justin’s dark appearance brought a gentle reassurance to Laura’s mind.
She and Jessup had been invited to a dinner party at Cypress Manor which, as Brody had proudly told her, had been in his family for generations.
When the invitation had first been extended to her through Jessup, Laura had adamantly refused, thinking it was far too risky to come out into the open so soon. But Jessup had insisted, sure that she had been hidden away far too long. To impress this on her, he had presented her with a beautiful silver evening gown of silk for the occasion. It had been tailored to hide her advancing pregnancy well.
The promise of fine wine and gentle company was just too much for Laura to pass up and she had finally agreed to attend the dinner party with Jessup on Saturday night. At the very least, it would keep her mind off of Justin, if only for a little while.
After bidding Bellea goodnight, Laura was finally able to fall asleep with visions of impending doom pushed aside by the promise of a glittering evening in that far away place called civilization.
The remaining days until Saturday passed uneventfully and Laura was able to push Rosa’s warnings to the back of her mind. Though somewhere deep inside of her, Rosa’s voice still intruded on her thoughts, like the eerie fog horn of a ship lost in the mist. With some effort, Laura was able t
o keep it from penetrating into her conscious thoughts.
Shortly after midday, Laura heard Jessup’s boat. As had been arranged, Laura would get ready at Jessup’s place and from there they would make the trip to Cypress Manor. Gathering her things, Laura tried to ignore Bellea’s disapproving gaze.
The old woman obviously didn't want Laura to go, but as she had come to realize over the weeks she had spent with Bellea, it was only concern for Laura’s safety that prompted the woman’s disapproval.
"Dem Cornells are a no good bunch," Bellea muttered.
"I’m sure that everything will be fine," Laura tried to reassure her.
"Funny how they’s never asked Jessup to de big house before now."
Jessup had been standing at the open door, watching the exchange with some curiosity. He now knelt next to Bellea "I’ll take real good care of her, Aunty Bellea," he smiled.
Bellea frowned. "Be sure to, boy. I be having some bad feelings."
Laura gave old Bellea a hug and followed Jessup out of the cabin. It was not until they had been on the water for a few minutes that Jessup spoke.
Aunt Bellea has never cared for the people of the big house, as she calls them," he explained.
"Yeah, I gathered that much." Laura smiled.
"See, her Grandmother Cynthia was born and raised on the Cypress Plantation, and of course she told Bellea some harrowing stories of the Cornells."
"You mean she was a slave?’
"Of course, wasn’t much else she could have been back then, I guess." Jessup’s smile was dark.
"Wow, I bet she would have had some stories to tell!"
"Well, it’s those stories is why Bellea doesn’t like the Cornells much. I’ve tried to explain to her that was generations ago, but she won’t hear a word of it."
"What are the stories?"
Jessup shrugged. "Don’t know. Bellea has never been very specific about it, only that they were no good and I should not have any business with them."
Laura’s nerves jangled, sure there was more to this story, but she reasoned with herself that it was only natural that the descendants of slaves would hold a grudge against the family.
* * * *
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