by Eboni Snoe
“I haven’t been here for long. I needed to get out of my room. I’m worried about my house, if it survived the storm.” Sasha volunteered the half-truth.
“I’m sure it did,” Olive reassured her. “The Bethel House has done okay all these years. Plus, Cay usually goes out and does a once-over of the land. He’ll let you know if there has been any damage to the property.”
“I don’t feel I should depend on Cay…Mr. Ellis.” She switched to his surname. “That property is my responsibility now.” Sasha looked out the window as Baltron opened the hurricane shutter.
Baltron changed the subject. “I hear you’ve already had your share of trouble. Olive tells me you were visited by the chicharney.”
“That’s what she tells me.”
“What do you think?” He rambled over to Sasha.
“I told Olive I thought Mr. Ellis was behind it.” Sasha looked Baltron straight in the eye before lowering her gaze.
“And I told her that was absurd,” Olive jumped in. “So who else could have done it?”
“Why do you think that’s so absurd?” Sasha asked. “Mr. Ellis’s interest in my property is very clear. Obviously, he didn’t expect anyone to inherit it. But here I am.”
“It’s absurd because he wouldn’t do anything to harm the Bethel House,” Olive informed her. “Precious used to love that place.”
“And he wouldn’t harm it because of that?” Sasha wrestled with the emotional implications of Olive’s words: to have someone love you so deeply that the house you lived in becomes a shrine. Sasha wondered how it would feel to be loved by a man capable of such depth.
“Yes, but there’s a lot more to it than that.” Baltron sat on a chair arm and studied Sasha before going on. “Did you know Precious was our niece?”
“Yes, Olive told me.”
Baltron nodded. “That’s how Cay met her. She came to visit us here at Guana Manor and they married a year or so after that. But Precious couldn’t change this house into the kind of place she wanted it to be.” Baltron cleared his throat. “Mr. Ellis had his way of seeing things. It was a matter of keeping up the Ellis tradition. They always felt ‘old money’ style was the best way. The dark woods, antique furniture…You know what I mean. Look around in here.” He swept the room with his arm. “But Precious liked things that were light and airy with bright colors. That was the way she looked at life.” He looked down at his hands. “Mr. Ellis wouldn’t allow her to change Guana Manor, but eventually, with Hazel’s blessing, she was allowed to turn that house you’re living in now into the kind of place she wanted. Actually, it was a happy compromise.”
“You mean she and Cay slept and lived there?” The thought was unsettling.
“No, they never slept there. As a matter of fact, they shared the Blue Room, down the hall from your room,” Baltron replied. “Your house was a special place for her to do her reading, her dreaming.”
“How did she die?” Sasha had to know.
The Knowleses looked at each other.
“She died from an infection,” Olive replied. “An infection?”
“Yes. It was a rare one. Precious used to go out exploring.” Olive bit her lip. “She cut her foot and at first the doctors believed the bacteria entered her body through the cut.”
“So has anybody else had this infection?” Sasha could tell the Knowleses were uncomfortable.
“It was hard for the doctors to pin down exactly what it was,” Baltron replied. “The blood tests said there was no bacteria.” His voice dropped. “And the doctors concluded her illness might be psychosomatic.”
“You mean they believed there wasn’t anything physically wrong with her. She was making herself sick. Sick to the point that she died?” Sasha questioned as she mulled it over.
“You have to understand, Precious was always a little different.” Olive sat down across from Sasha. She patted one hand on top of the other. “People loved being around her because of it. She saw life in a way that made it brighter for anyone she talked to. She believed in things that other people wanted to believe in, but were afraid. So when she started fixing up the Bethel House she turned it into a place with crystals and chimes.” Olive looked off into space smiling. “With rainbows and sun catchers that reflected on the walls. I’d come in and there would be the smell of frankincense and juniper in the air, and these two beautiful paintings of angels seemed to welcome me as a dolphin fountain trickled near the front door.”
“The paintings are still there,” Sasha interjected. “I love them. When the sun pours in through the window, they seem to shine. I’ve never lived in a house that felt like this before,” she admitted. She tried to figure out what made the house special. “Even though it’s small, because of the archways and the white tiles on the floor, it feels expansive and alive.”
“Yes.” Olive brightened even more. “So you can imagine how it looked and felt back then.” Then she paused. “But still, it wasn’t enough for Precious. She wanted more. It wasn’t enough for her to believe in the things she did. She wanted other people to believe in them as well. She couldn’t understand, if the things she did and talked about brought so much peace and joy to other people, why they didn’t believe in them, too.” She shook her head. “So Precious was determined to find a way to make other people believe. That’s when she started doing research. Reading history books about the islands here in the Atlantic Ocean.” She paused. “You know, one day she came to see me and she was so happy. She told me that Ponce de León had found the Fountain of Youth near these parts.”
Olive laughed and continued. “Precious was determined to find the whereabouts of that fountain and its origins. About a week or so later she discovered Plato’s writing about a place called Atlantis that had sunk from a natural disaster. And then she read about a man named Edgar Cayce, and what she read about him proved to Precious that Atlantis was real. That it had been a place where human beings lived who were far more advanced than we are today. And that those people lived for hundreds of years and were never plagued with illness and suffering.” Olive looked as if she were in deep thought. “It was a given in Atlantis that human beings never died in the way we believe and that life and death were a perpetual cycle that people consciously chose to ride.” Olive leaned toward Sasha in her excitement. “And you see, Precious believed the Fountain of Youth and Atlantis were connected. She thought if she could find proof of their existence, it would be the proof she needed to make other people open up to such wonders, and their lives would be better for it.”
“So she discovered the spring?” Sasha looked from Olive to Baltron.
“Yes. She discovered the spring,” Baltron replied.
“So did she think it was the Fountain of Youth?” Sasha asked, amazed.
“Precious thought it may have been connected to the fountain, and she believed the water originated from the sunken Atlantis. She was out exploring, trying to find further proof, when she cut her foot.”
“But if there wasn’t really any bacteria, why did she die from the cut?” Sasha didn’t understand.
“That’s the part we don’t understand.” Olive’s eyes looked teary. “Precious told us bacteria had entered her foot, and that it wouldn’t be long before she made her transition.”
“Transition?” Sasha questioned.
“Before she died,” Olive clarified. “And all I know is, after that the illness progressed very rapidly. She was deathly ill in a matter of hours. The doctors couldn’t do anything for her.”
“How strange.” Sasha sat back in her chair.
“So now you see how Mr. Cay couldn’t have been behind anything that would damage the Bethel House. He hasn’t set foot in it since Precious died three years ago, and it’s been sitting there as pretty as you please since Hazel passed away,” Olive informed her.
“And that’s why Cay doesn’t want anyone capitalizing off of the spring.” Sasha forgot her attempt to put distance between them. “He doesn’t want me to start my bottled
water business because of sentimental reasons.”
Baltron nodded. “He planted some vines and other things to try and totally conceal it, but they just wouldn’t grow. Normally anything will grow on this land, but not there,” Baltron told her.
“I had something strange happen to me after I tasted the water.” Sasha thought back.
“You did?” Olive’s eyes widened.
“Yes. I experienced this euphoric feeling. As a matter of fact, I drifted off. Cay was the one who found me.”
“So you and Cay had met before?” Baltron asked. Both of the Knowleses looked surprised.
“We met, but he thought I was a tourist who had wandered off the beaten path. Once he knew I was going to be okay, he left me there. We never introduced ourselves. It was a brief encounter.”
“Well, some folks believe—”
“Oh, Olive, hush,” Baltron interrupted.
“What do you mean hush? I can talk if I want to,” Olive retorted.
Baltron turned his head.
“Like I was saying” —Olive cut her eyes at Baltron— “some folks believe that springwater can cure people.”
“What folks, Olive?” Baltron challenged.
“You know what folks,” Olive shot back. “And you’re one of them.”
“Yeah, well…” Baltron got up and began to walk away.
“You are.” Olive followed behind him.
“Right now we’re not talking about my beliefs,” Baltron said as he went through the library door.
“I think you just…”
Sasha couldn’t make out any more of Olive’s words.
She sat back and thought about what had transpired. The way the Knowleses described Precious, she had been an unusual individual, and her death seemed to rival her life. But Sasha couldn’t help but wonder if Precious had gone insane before she died.
She got up and walked over to the window. Could people really die from illnesses they believe they have? All of it was very strange, and strangest of all was Precious’s obsession to prove the existence of Atlantis, a place that most people believe never existed.
It made no sense considering all Precious possessed: Cay, Guana Manor, and the prestige of the Ellis fortune. But perhaps Precious had been searching for something she considered far more important than material gain. And if that was the only kind of woman Cay would ever love, anything meaningful between him and Sasha was impossible. Precious seemed so different from Sasha. For years Sasha could focus only on how she would earn the next dollar to keep herself and her mother going.
These thoughts floated through Sasha’s mind as she looked at the rain-soaked landscape. Some of the trees had been blown down, and there were branches and debris everywhere. She didn’t like the feeling of inadequacy that rose within her. I am not here to try to fill Precious’s shoes, she told herself. I’ve got more earthly things to be concerned about, like my house and my land. But Sasha had to admit, some of the things that Olive told her Precious believed about Atlantis intrigued her. Especially the possibility of her mother’s soul living forever, and that life and death were parts of an endless cycle chosen freely by all.
Chapter 10
“Where is Olive?” Mr. Ellis looked past Sherry. “I don’t want you to bring me my pitcher of ice tea.”
Sherry noticed that he looked edgy, tired, so she decided to downplay his nasty attitude. “Oh, Papa, relax. Olive is busy. What do you think I’m going to do? Poison you?” She set the morning ritual ice tea on the coffee table.
“Anything’s possible,” he retorted.
“Well, that’s not.” She walked over to the draperies and turned the tiebacks just so before she stood back to admire them.
“Since I’ve known you you’ve never been the kind of girl to let anything stand in your way. Why should you start now?”
“Who’s standing in my way?”
“You know who.” Mr. Ellis clinked the inside of his glass with his spoon. “I am.”
“You are?” She laughed lightly. “Keeping me from what?”
“From totally showing your claws and going after Cay.” He sniffed the pitcher of ice tea, then put it down. “And then becoming the real mistress of Guana Manor.”
“Well, aren’t you in rare form today. I think your imagination is improving with time.”
“No, the passage of time makes me that much more aware of how short my time on earth may be. So I’m determined to call a spade a spade and a snake a snake.”
“From some of the things you’ve said to me in the past, I felt you believed you were doing a pretty good job of that already.”
“I’ve said some things over the years, and from my perspective all of them have been true. Now I’m on a mission. And I intend to accomplish it before I leave here.” His voice was serious.
“What’s all this talk about dying?” She smiled her widest smile, but it didn’t touch her eyes.
“I knew you wanted Cay from the beginning. But what I’ve realized is that knowing the greedy woman you are, you were probably a greedy girl, too. So you decided to bide your time, see if you could catch a bigger fish, probably in a big city, before you settled on one of my boys down here on Magic Key. I could tell you found both of them attractive, but you had a special spark for Cay. You figured you could plop one of them onto your deck whenever you wanted. But Cay fooled you. He married Precious. And when you couldn’t find anyone else who met your and your family’s expectations, and who was interested in you, you settled for Wally.” He pointed his finger. “But all the time Wally was the one who really loved you.”
Mr. Ellis’s account of her life and feelings pressed Sherry’s buttons. “I couldn’t tell it from the way he treated me while we were married.”
A look of anguish crossed Mr. Ellis’s face. “Wally had nothing but good intentions when he married you. He went against everything he believed to do it. You were the one who spoiled that. It was all so obvious. If Cay was in a room you couldn’t take your eyes off him. You and Wally couldn’t do anything alone, you always had to invite Precious and Cay. It was Cay that you wanted to be around.” Mr. Ellis looked as if a stench permeated the room. “Precious was oblivious to the whole thing, and Cay just brushed your attentions aside, but it was hurting Wally real bad. He was suffocating knowing his wife wanted his brother in her bed instead of him.”
“That’s not true,” Sherry refuted.
“It’s not? Well, why do you think Wally started drinking like he did after he found you trying to bed Cay that night he came home early?”
“Wally was always a drinker,” Sherry defended herself.
“Yes, he was a social drinker, but he became an alcoholic after that,” Mr. Ellis retorted.
“I am not going to stand here and allow you to blame me for Wally’s womanizing and his excessive drinking.”
“It doesn’t matter if you accept the blame or not. I know it’s true. He started going to bed with other women and drinking himself to death when you started withholding your love from him after Cay wouldn’t have you.”
“How dare you paint me to be such a demon?” Sherry’s voice shook with anger. “All the county knows about the countless women you went through and the bastard children you sired during the process. Cay and Wally were just lucky that you cared for their mothers enough to claim them. The truth is you never really cared for anybody but yourself and your mother, who turned you into the heartless old man that you are.” She came closer. “Yes, the Ellises have managed to turn Guana Manor into a fine estate with all the right furniture and trappings, but there’s one thing it will never have as long as you are the head of the Ellis clan, and that’s class. You’re trash, Papa. I know it and you know it. And you know what else? Class is something I was born with and will always have.” She smirked. “And it’s the one thing you’ve always wanted and will never have.”
Mr. Ellis looked down at the coffee table. “You said a mouthful then, didn’t you, girl. Most of it is true. But I’m going to te
ll you something else that’s nothing but truth. As long as there is breath in my body I will keep Cay and Guana Manor out of your clutches. Wally died that night because you had refused him.” His voice trembled. “He left his own bed at one o’clock in the morning looking for some comfort, some sort of satisfaction. And after he drank himself into a stupor, I hope to God he finally found peace when his car went off the road and hit that tree.” The silence was thick. “I will never forgive you for it, Sherry. And I will never forget.”
Their gazes met one last time before Sherry hurried from the room.
Mr. Ellis pushed the pitcher farther onto the table. It was Sherry’s fault that Wally had died, he tried to reassure himself. Nothing else. But he had to fight against remembering the look of devastation in Wally’s eyes when he heard about the Bethel Curse.
Unlike Cay, who never gave the curse much credence until Wally and Precious died, Wally believed in it from the very beginning. Maybe it was because he had spent time with family members in the islands who truly believed in the power of the obeah. Or maybe it was the way Mr. Ellis lived his life that convinced Wally there was evil in their blood. Mr. Ellis’s eyes clouded. Either way, Wally had bought into it, and when he married Sherry he believed he was taking a big risk. A risk that could end in death. And it did. His own.
Mr. Ellis’s aging features sagged, and then a steely glint entered his eyes. But if Sherry had just tried to make him happy Wally never would have gone out that night; Mr. Ellis fortified the perspective he chose to believe. Never. He would have stayed safe in his bed, wrapped in the arms of the woman he loved. But Sherry had spurned him. Spurned him for his own brother. And it was because of her that Wally was dead.
“Seems like the storm is about over.” Sherry had left Mr. Ellis’s room and entered Cay’s bedroom unannounced.
He looked at her, then continued to take off his shirt. “Don’t you knock anymore?” he asked.