16
9:30 am: Eva Marie Lejeune began preparations for the big day ahead. She slipped into a long rose colored dress and sandals and clipped her hair up into soft curls. Adele watched, taking in her daughter’s every move.
“What do you see when you look at me, Mama?”.
“I see me when I was young, only nicer.”
“You know, right at this minute you remind me of the way you were when I was very little, before…”
“...before the alcohol took me away from you?”
“Yes.”
“If I could go back in time and start over, maybe things would have been different. Maybe not. We only get one shot. There are no do-overs. I was weak, when I could have been strong for your sake.”
The comment was as close to an apology as Eva was likely to get. Adele was having a clear-headed day, as had often been the case after coming home to Winderlee. Eva took advantage of it while she could. “I know, Mama. One thing I need to say while I can. I see nothing of Alex in me, you know?”
“You call him ‘Alex’ now?”
“He’s not my father. I know it now.”
“No, he is not your father. But now’s not the time for this.”
For Eva, everything always came “later”. It was as if everyone tried to keep her in a tight protective bubble, which left no room for growth. The only absolute about her parentage was that Adele had given birth to her. She often daydreamed about some secret father coming to rescue her during the old days when her parents fought, or when her mother stayed out late, and Alex failed to take care of her. As screwed up as her home life had been, she had always known her mother loved her—not in the doting manner of some but on some deep cellular level. Alex was another matter.
Maybe it came to her the night before when Grandpapa Lucien appeared once more, he with the riveting and stormy eyes and grim mouth. She knew it was no dream, because she had seen him in the cane field, and she had been fully awake. He had slowly raised his arm and pointed at her. “Look in the mirror. Two sides of a coin…east and west ...the best of both.”
His spirit, if indeed it was, always came to the cane field where he had spent so many hours when alive. It was only natural that his restless soul would return there. But this time, Esther no longer appeared. She had found her way to another realm.
Eva spoke aloud, raising her voice, willing her grandfather to hear. “Why riddles instead of answers? Tell me what I need to know!”
No answer came, and the image faded slowly from the horizon like a cloud lifted by the wind. The answer lay within her. It was she who was two sides of a coin— east and west. In her heart, she knew that Alex was not her real father. Her father was from the Far East. She looked in the mirror and saw the answer.
Just then, the Boussard cousins and their families came through the back door, voices ringing with excitement at the prospect of the grand procession of boats. Eva called out to Jasper to bring Rambo in the house before they left for the day, lest the he follow and become lost. A sullen Jasper complied and then disappeared—something he had begun to to do on a regular basis.
“Good Rambo,” Eva murmured. “Stay by the window and wait for your master. Watch for his plane to swoop down from the sky.”
Rambo thumped his tail against the floor and looked up at her in adoration. He made her smile when she needed to most. “Don’t look at me that way, Mister. I know your game.”
The family walked the short path to the bay, with the Broussard cousins and their children in the lead, then Adele and Mai, with Nadine and Eva following. Nadine seemed cool toward her niece, and they walked in silence, until Eva decided to end the feud as best she could. “I don’t want to be at odds with you, Auntie. You and Jasper made a bad mistake, and I can't take back what I said. Who else would speak up for Colette...and for me?”
Nadine’s answer came lightning fast. “Gabriel Martin, that’s who.”
“How am I to know that?”
“This will sound strange coming from me, but you have to have faith in someone...or at least in your feelings for someone. But then how could you understand emotions involving a man?. I swear, Eva, If you had remained Catholic, you could have been a nun.”
“I can’t live in isolation either. I have to find my way in the real world, and sometimes it’s hard.”
The strings to Nadine’s superficial heart gave one tiny ping. “It’s going to be alright as soon as Gabe gets here. Hate to break this to you, kid, but you have a bad case of amoureux. You just had to fall for a freewheeling Texan— and a crop duster at that. I can't say as I blame you. He’s quite a man. Now pull yourself together. You’re the Queen of the Fleet, and your subjects await you.”
***
The sun broke through the clouds at 9:45 that morning, just as the Lejeune party boarded Destiny. Behind them, lining up for the blessing, were scores of shrimp boats and fishing vessels filled with flowers of every color of the rainbow—so many in fact, that there was just enough room to walk. Eva was drawn to the large urn of yellow carnations and stooped to read the handwritten card attached. “For what was once the most beautiful boat in all of Vermilion Bay. Bon Voyage.”
She thought the message odd. Had not the old trawler been maintained to the point that it was just as beautiful as always? What could change it? And why the “bon voyage”? No one was going anywhere. As she mulled over the meaning, Adele came to stand by her and chatter away in excitement. Mai, who usually never left Adele's side, stood with Jace at the helm. Eva watched Adele’s eyes glow as they returned to that star fisherman, who looked magnificent in gossamer linen shirt and pants in an ivory white that accented his skin. Within the adoration in her mother’s eyes, Eva saw the truth. There was the man who had taken Adele away from Alex.
Mai stood side by side with Jace, and Eva saw the resemblance in both profiles. Now became the time for the truth that Mai had wanted her mother to reveal to her. It became clear they two had more in common than a garden variety Vietnamese surname. They were mother and son, and he was Lucien Lejeune's offspring. Jace was the Jacques Quan listed in the employee records, and he was her natural father. The complex chain of ascendency locked into place. She was still as much a Lejeune as ever, and no one could take away her heritage.
Her words sprung forth with a will of their own: “Mama, does he know I am his daughter?”
Adele showed no surprise and knew to whom her daughter referred. “Yes, he knows. How long have you known?”
“Just now, or maybe always.”
***
9:45 am: The boats completed the line behind Destiny, but Father Renaud had not arrived. One other was missing. Eva wondered if Gabe had decided to stay in Austin, and this time maybe for good. Her stomach twisted into knots at the thought of the betrayal. She had finally trusted someone explicitly, and this was how it turned out. She shaded her eyes to look to the road where vehicles were parked, but neither Renaud’s Fiat nor Gabe’s pickup were among them; yet the blessing was due to start in fifteen minutes.
Just as she felt despair creep into her soul like a dark fog, she heard the distant drone of a small plane. She looked up to see the little Cessna tilt its wings in greeting. Her heart sprang to her throat, and she waved both arms in response, unaware that she stood on tiptoes as if reaching for the sky. “Look, Mama, it’s Gabriel. He’s come back! Auntie, look right above us. He’s almost at the landing strip right now.”
With four heart-stopping minutes left, Gabe dashed from his truck, loped to the pier and hopped aboard Destiny. The smile on Eva’s face froze when she saw his fearful eyes and tense jaw. “Everyone...off the boat...now! We have very little time to find a bomb before it explodes.”
As boat Captain, Jace repeated the orders, as everyone tried to talk at once, asking questions there was no time to answer. “Do as the man says, children first. Hand them over to the people on the pier.”
Eva grabbed Mai’s arm “Take Mama off with you. Stay with her.”
“You
will come too!” Mai commanded
“I’ll be right there. Now hurry...Grandmother. Do not look back.”
The Broussard cousins helped round up children, while Gabe and Jace plowed through the flowers, knocking over pots and baskets in their haste. “Which one?” Gabe shouted in frustration.
Eva turned back. “Let the boat blow up, for God’s sake. Don’t risk it! I’m not getting off until you come with me!”
“Listen to me. We depend on that boat for your livelihood.”
“I won’t leave you behind!”
In one fluid movement, he lifted her over his shoulder, stepped from boat to pier and plopped her down. Suddenly she remembered the strange floral card and it’s meaning was now clear. “The one with yellow carnations, Gabe...at the front!”
“Okay. Call the sheriff’s office. Find out why they aren't here yet.”
9:59 am: As patrol cars raced up just short of the pier, Gabe tore away the padding to expose six sticks of dynamite and components wired to a clock. At ten o’clock sharp, time stopped, just as Gabe flung the urn and its contents as far overboard as his strength allowed. The explosion went off in the water to propel an enormous plume skyward. Shouts and screams from the shore filled the air, as the ripple effect of the waves rocked Destiny to and fro.
The sheriff's deputies were all over the boat and began to cordon it off. As the excitement subsided, the first show of gratitude was offered by Jace who shook Gabe’s hand. “Gabriel Martin, you’ve saved the family, and the boat too. We’ll run this boat for years to come.”
“While you're at it, thank Father Renaud...if he makes it. He needs help, and I’m going to help find him.”
17
Gabriel Martin was ready to roll, and Eva was right on his heels. By the time they reached Gabe’s truck, Malcolm Bertrand was waiting for them. “Mr. Martin, listen. Let me tell you something before you search for Renaud. He didn’t start out from the rectory. He went to Deville Place on Main Street first. He went to confront Alex Lejeune. I told the police to send someone out to room 112 to make sure he left there.”
Gabe started the engine. “Got it. We’ll retrace his route, going in that direction. Get in...both of you. If Renaud’s alive, we need to be there with him. He placed all of us above himself today. He’s won my respect.”
“Why was Renaud at a rundown flop house like Deville Place, Mr. Bertrand?” Eva asked.
“I’ll explain it to you later, when things settle down.”
“I‘m not a child. Tell me now.”
“Ok. I’ll give it to you straight. Your father’s in town. He’s not happy about being disinherited, and that spells trouble. Renaud went to his room in hopes of finding out what he was up to...without luck. Afterward, something clicked, and he figured it out. Alex is a cunning man.”
Eva was relieved to know he was not her father. She was, in fact, downright elated. “He planted the bomb, didn't he?”
“It’s clear that he did,” Gabe said.
Several blocks down Main, they spotted the Fiat, a police car, and an ambulance in a supermarket parking lot. Gabe turned in, and the minute he parked, they rushed to Renaud’s side. As they loaded him on a stretcher, Eva had just enough time to unfasten the cross necklace from around her neck and place it in his hand. “You once gave this to me,” she whispered. “You believed it would see me through bad times, and I want to return the favor. It is you who believes, so it is you it will protect.”
Gabe gently pulled her away, and they watched the paramedics place Renaud into the ambulance and speed toward the hospital. They followed and remained with him as long as they were allowed.
A day that was meant to be a happy blessing for the fleet had turned into a nightmare.
***
At that moment, tension like a tangible force filled the rectory. Marcela and her sister Bernice had returned from the pier in the off chance that Renaud would be there, safe and secure. Marcela’s heart sank to enter that empty house, and so she waited for news. She paced the floor and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, while her sister watched helplessly.
“What can I do to help you, sister?” Bernice asked.
“If you’re up to it, you can make me a pot of tea to settle my nerves.”
Bernice found the ceramic teapot sitting beside a haphazard stack of Renaud’s correspondence that Marcela handled for him. “Let me straighten your desk, and then we’ll have a proper tea time.” Bernice re-stacked and tapped down the pile of papers, and as she did, out slipped a sheet of stationery folded in half. Marcela’s name was scrawled on the outside. “I think this is for your eyes only.” Bernice handed her the note, and her sister read it in silence:
My dear Marcela:
I wanted you to know that I have always loved you. I have loved you not only as a cherished friend, but as a man loves a woman. Had I not entered the priesthood and taken my vows, I would have begged you to marry me. It is one regret among many that I carry to my grave. I did what was right, and that is my one consolation! When you remember me, think happy thoughts, my love.
To quote Richard Lovelace...“I could not love thee, dear, so much loved I not honor more.”
Always, John Renaud.
Marcela bowed her head and cried. She cried out of sadness for what might have been and happiness for the gift of his declaration. “Such a stubborn man! I pleaded with him to stay in today. He tried to hide his illness from me, but he must have known he was on the verge of collapse. He lived his life in service to others, and that obsession was stronger than his love for me.”
The house phone rang, and she grabbed it on the first ring.
“Miss Mouton?”
Marcela’s voice shook with dread. “Yes.”
“This is I.C.U., Mercy Hospital. We have Father John Renaud here. He’s asking for you. You may visit him for just a few minutes if you like.”
“Thank God, he’s still with us!”
“We revived him. He pulled through this time, but his condition is guarded. If you want to be sure to see him, come right away.”
“I will be there! Tell him that for me, will you? Tell him to hang on for me.”
She hung up, took the note Renaud had written her and locked it into her desk drawer. “Bernice, you never saw me do this, and they’ll be no need to mention the letter to anyone. If he lives, and he brings the subject up, all I need to say is I didn't see it. I’ll say I must have accidentally thrown it out with discarded paperwork. He’ll believe it. These things happen all the time as I get older.”
“Makes no sense, sister. He’s not going to believe you never saw it, and you’d be lying. You’ve never been particularly good at concocting stories, but you’ve done so since childhood! You’re committing a sin.”
“Yes, I am. I am not a saint, Bernice, but Father Renaud is as close to one as it gets. He is neither impulsive nor foolish. He must have thought his death was imminent, else he would never have proclaimed his love for me—sentiments a priest cannot allow, no matter how chaste. He did a lovely, impetuous thing that I’ll forever treasure, but I intend to spare him regret and embarrassment if he lives.”
Bernice pursed her lips in disapproval. “Yes, sister...as you wish.”
***
There was one other casualty on that day of celebration of the Blessing of the Fleet. An Iberia Parish constable, cruising the back roads north of town, found an ‘89 Ford pickup upside down in a ditch. Inside was a man's body, and the Justice of the Peace was called out to declare the man dead. “Find any ID on him?” he asked the constable.
“Nothing. All I found was a receipt from Bayside Inn and rental agreement for an apartment at Deville Place at Vermilion Bay. It fits the information I have. Malcolm Bertrand, the attorney, called in about the attempted bombing. He said the perpetrator was most likely headed to the Canadian border, in a pickup of the same make and year of this one. It’s registered in the exact name Bertrand gave me—none other than Alex Lejeune.”
“What
caused him to roll the truck?”
“For one thing, he was speeding when he slammed on his brakes. He swerved to avoid something, skidded and flipped You can see these old tires hardly have any tread, and the road is a little wet from a morning shower.”
“Wonder what he saw in the road.”
“A deer, maybe. We’ll never know. No one travels these old two lane highways much anymore—not since the interstate came in. Obviously, he didn’t want to be spotted leaving town.”
“Now comes the hard part,” the J.P. said. “We need to notify the Lejeune family. Maybe Father Renaud will need to help me break the news. ”
“Haven’t you heard? Renaud had a heart attack on the way to the festival. He can’t help anyone now...not even himself. I heard he’s hanging on by a thread. He at least had the presence of mind to alert Gabriel Martin about the bomb. He’d somehow put two and two together. That old guy sure enough earned his wings.”
The J.P. shook his head. “Helluva day. The shrimp boats didn’t get their blessing either. Think it’ll make any difference?”
“Hasn’t yet...but it always makes everybody feel better. Folks are funny like that.”
***
Nadine Lejeune Broussard took the news of her brother’s death in stride. She had, after all, had him declared dead years earlier. She had become used to the idea of his death many years ago, but his vile actions stunned her. “My own brother wanted to destroy that boat so badly that he didn’t care if we were all killed. I’ll see to it that he is cremated and his ashes scattered over the bay. I don’t think I’ll bury him next to Papa...not after all the misery he has brought us.”
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