by K. T. Tomb
Shortly after his arrival in Atlanta, John had met Rae Lexington at a peace rally in 1965 near the Georgia State campus. She was attending John Marshal at the time and planned a career in civil law. John was focused on pursuing criminal law. He’d never forget the first time he’d seen her; sitting next to an enormous fountain of a beautiful nymph whose water jug spilled endless streams of water into the bowl she stood in.
As he drove toward the house, John saw Rae walk across the end of the driveway, carrying a large basket. She turned toward a little hill and continued walking in that direction. He wondered where she was going as she disappeared over the rise. Quickly parking in front of the house and ditching the car, he chased after her. From the top of the hill, he saw her making her way toward a shed and dock by the pond. Just as she was stepping out of her dress, she turned and looked straight at him. He stopped dead in his tracks, returning her stare. Then she crooked her finger at him, signaling him to come join her.
She was seated on the little dock facing the pond in her bathing suit and sunglasses as he came around the shed and he took a seat beside her. The sounds of the adjacent woods were rhythmic in the sweltering afternoon. He could hear cicadas and frogs, even a woodpecker tapping on a tree. It was hypnotizing and he laid his head down and closed his eyes, sighing loudly.
“It’s really peaceful, isn’t it?” Rae said softly, stroking the dark curls of his head.
“Yes, quite soothing after a long drive from Macon.”
“How are your parents doing?”
“Mom seems pleased with Dad’s progress, but he still gives her a hard time about going to the physiotherapy sessions.”
“She’ll never have his full cooperation,” she said. She paused a moment before continuing.
“I got a letter from my Mom. It seems that my Dad removed her from his will and left me everything. She’s not too pleased with that.”
John laughed stiffly; they had always suspected that eventually, Alexander Lexington would cut Cat off completely. It disgusted him to see how she took his alimony checks and squandered them on her scandalous lifestyle in Las Vegas. They’d been divorced for five years and at first, they were very cordial. She’d moved to Nashville and was making a living as a talent scout for a record company. She’d eventually spiraled into the music scene lifestyle and Alex had stopped her visitations with Rae. He just felt that by the time he stopped paying alimony to her, she would have eaten up enough of his resources. The rest was for Rae.
“What does she want?”
“That I get married of course,” she replied. “More specifically, that I make sure to find a suitable man at college and get married and I assume that would exclude you.”
“I’m not what I think your mom would consider suitable, Rae. I don’t have two extra dimes to rub together.”
They laughed hysterically at the joke and then she turned her hazel eyes back to the view of the pond.
“A little house in the suburbs and a good job at the D.A.’s office, John. That is all I want. I don’t even care where it is anymore. I’ve come to terms that it may not be a good idea to stay here if Mom decided to give Dad a fight over all this.”
“I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go, my darling. I promise.”
They had lunch together on the cottage’s back porch. Rae had packed sandwiches and cold, lemon-flavored sweet tea. After eating his meal, John stripped to his undergarments and jumped into the pond beckoning for her to join him but she laughed at his antics and remained on the deck sunning herself.
Rae knew better than to get engulfed in John’s dreams of the happy ever after. Things were different for them; their world was changing. If the war in Vietnam didn’t come to an end soon, there was a real possibility that John might have to join the army and go to war. The worst part was that she took Cat’s letter as a warning. So much was changing around them that if they didn’t make a decision and move toward it, they could just as easily get washed away with the tides of the times.
A few years ago, a girl of her age would have already kissed her single years goodbye, but there she was, teetering on the verge in the prime of her life. She knew that she wanted to get married someday, but she also loved John and she could not imagine a life with any other man but him.
In the end, Cat was right. They were living in an uncertain time. Things weren’t as cut and dried for her generation as they had been for her parents. The country was at war and it didn’t look like they were winning. Civil unrest and general discontent with government lurked just under the surface in every community, in every city, in every state. Maybe it was time to draw the line and settle down. Was a college degree going to be that useful when she was taking care of children and a husband? But that was exactly what Rae was holding out for. She could see how a marriage to John would never reduce her to that. He would never try to limit her like so many others would try to do. Whatever she wanted, he’d make sure she got it, and if she wanted it all, she would have it all. With all of that weighing heavily on her mind, she took a deep breath, and jumped into the cold water to join John.
Chapter Four
New Orleans, Louisiana
Spring, 1970
It was their last spring break together.
They would all be graduating from college in May, so Rae had decided to go to New Orleans with a group of her closest friends from John Marshal. Benita, one of her sorority sisters, was from Terrebonne Parish and lived with her parents in a huge two-story sugar plantation house on the outskirts of Thibodaux. It was a beautiful place, rich in history and cultural diversity. Being born and bred in Atlanta, Rae had been on holiday to Savannah and Tybee Island many times before. It seemed that everywhere she looked in New Orleans and the surrounding towns, she saw a feature she loved best about the coastal lands: mossy trees. They were everywhere; delightful and haunting.
The girls went nightly into Thibodaux to watch the different masque groups finish the final preparations on their Mardi Gras floats. She’d never seen an actual Mardi Gras parade before and Rae was extremely excited to walk down Bourbon Street on Fat Tuesday and immerse herself in the festivities. With it being her first time there, Benita Jean-Picard, her hostess, had arranged for a weekend of sightseeing in the city before the parade on Tuesday. Friday morning, all six girls packed their bags and drove into New Orleans. Benita’s parents had arranged for them to stay at the historic Place d’Armes Hotel on Rue St. Ann as well as reservations for them to join several city tours.
On Saturday morning, the girls ate a breakfast of buttery croissants with ham, eggs, cheese and bacon, then went into Mid-city to the Canal Street Mortuary where they joined a second line parade of an actual funeral. Their tour guide was a tall, caramel-skinned woman called Angelique. She was a New Orleans native who claimed to be a descendant of Storyville’s Millie Christian. The girls were captivated by her renditions of Old New Orleans and by the time they were returning from the St Louis #1 cemetery and the tomb of the Voodoo Queen, Marie Laveau, Rae was feeling fully immersed in her vacation.
A few hours later, their tour ended with lunch in the courtyard of the Royal Cafe Beignet. Angelique dined with them, sitting at a table with Benita and Rae. The girls were entranced by her exotic beauty. Her light brown, curly hair stretched down her back to her waist and set off the hazel green color of her eyes.
“I’ll take you to see the priestess if you want,” she said suddenly to Rae, without even looking up from her coffee cup.
“What?”
Angelique laughed before she replied. It seemed she was used to getting that initial reaction from people.
“Whatever it is that’s in that letter you carrying around is bothering you. If you’d like I’ll take you to see someone who might help you with some answers.”
Rae laughed at the thought. She didn’t believe in that magic stuff, fortune tellers and such. That was a bunch of rubbish, wasn’t it?
“Come on, Rae,” Benita said in a whisper. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.
It’s not every day someone like Angelique is gonna come along and make an offer like this. Let’s go see her; even if it’s just to get a glimpse at what she does.”
Rae remained silent; she didn’t know what to think of any of it. Benita reached across the table and held her hand while she turned to Angelique and said, “Set it up and let us know what to do.”
***
With the envelope tucked next to her breast inside the folds of her jacket, Rae stepped out onto the street behind Benita. Angelique led the way through the busy streets toward Jackson Square, where they were met by a young man in a black suit driving a beautiful Buick sedan. All three got into the back seat.
“He’ll take us out to the house,” Angelique explained. “She’s a bit of a ways out into the bayou.”
“Oh, that’s just great!” Rae said sarcastically.
Madame Foveaux’s house was more than fifty miles out of New Orleans in the shallow bayou lands near Gonzales. Rae had never been a superstitious person, but Benita had pressed her to take the opportunity, and rare invitation, to visit the soothsayer. When they arrived at the house, the hairs on her neck and arms stood on end. Weeping willows surrounded the structure and were made increasingly menacing by the masses of Old Man’s Beard which hung in long clumps from their branches. The car pulled up outside the front steps and Angelique got out with confidence, holding the door for the two girls.
“It doesn’t look like anyone’s home,” Rae said in hopes they would turn around and head back into the city.
“Oh, don’t worry, she’s here. And she’s been expecting you, child.”
Rae took a deep, steadying breath and started up the stairs toward the house. As she approached the door, it swung open and a slender figure in a gorgeous black lace dress stood in the doorway, illuminated eerily by the candlelight coming from inside the room. Madame Foveaux took the cigarette from her lips and exhaled a long trail of smoke.
“You di gyerl Angelique done brought to see me?” she asked.
“Yes, I am. My name is Rae, Rae Lexington.”
“Den you better come inside di parlor ‘fore you catch cold in dis ‘ere fog,” she replied, turning to go back inside the house.
Rae turned to Benita and Angelique with a questioning look, but before she could say anything, Madame Foveaux answered her question.
“Dis reading isn’t for dem, Rae. Dis is jus’ between you an’ me.”
Ray sighed and followed her into the little front room of the house. Madame Foveaux pointed to a chair at a round table in the center of the room and said, “You si’ down dere and put yu worries in dat bowl on di table.”
Her Cajun accent weighed heavily on the English she tried her best to speak, but it was clear enough that Rae could understand her.
My worries? How can I put my worries in a bowl?”
“Di letter dat got you depressed, gyerl!” Foveaux snapped.
Quickly, Rae did as she was told; taking a seat at the table, fishing the letter from her pocket and placing it into the blue glass bowl.
The seer went around the room, lighting a few more candles until it was considerably brighter than before. Then she sat at the table directly across from Rae. She closed her eyes and placed her chin to each of her shoulders, then she raised her head to look up at the ceiling and lowered it to look down at the floor. When her head was again at the center, she opened her eyes, looked straight at Rae and said,
“I need three ten dollar bills then you get to ask me three questions, Cherie. One fa each a di notes, das what de spirits say.”
“Only three?” Rae asked.
“Oui, de spirits seh your peace can be said in three. So you get three,” she replied.
“I don’t know where to start, Madame Foveaux,” she admitted, placing both her hands on the table.
“Why is that, Cherie?”
“I think I would prefer if the spirits just advised me. I don’t think I can ask the right questions.”
“C’est bon. They will need three more notes.”
The mystic watched as Rae put the money in the bowl, then she pulled up her sleeves and snapped her fingers. The candles she had placed at the five points around the room seemed to get a little brighter. She reached across the table and turned Rae’s hands palms up, then placed both her hands on top of Rae’s. The Cajun woman soon began to sway from side to side, saying what Rae thought was a chant in French. After a few minutes Madame Foveaux opened her eyes and looked directly at her.
“No need to be so noisy! Wait your turn, speak your peace and I’ll tell ‘er what you said.”
Rae sat forward in her chair, staring intently at the woman and trying to figure out who she was talking to.
“Di spirits seh you need to be careful of di woman who write dat letter. She be starting big trouble for you and your pa. He be at Thorn sooner dan you t’ink too. You gotta watch for her, Miss Rae. It not no good they see she gonna do to the two o’ ya. Bon?
“Dey say your love for di boy is too strong. Don’t let it rule you. Stick to him, he di one the stars lined up for you, but don’ make none a di bad decision dey say you gonna make, Rae.
“Di woman perplexing yu mind. She is Cat, oui?” She posed her question.
Rae’s eyes grew wide with the revelation. Who could have told her about that? The letter lay untouched in the bowl beside her. Madame Foveaux had not read it.
“Ah, oui,” she replied apprehensively.
“Bon, she is right to say you must get married. You not short o’ good suitors. But she wrong to seh you don’t need a good education. Listen me, gyerl. Whatever you put in your head, nobody can ever take it out, oui? Finish dat degree, your future depends on it. An’ from what I can see, it gonna be a bright and happy one. So stop di fretting and go enjoy yourself. You so young an’ pretty, too pretty to wear dem creases on your forehead all di time.”
Rae blushed deeply, her smooth cheeks grew pink with color.
“Dat what I talkin’ ‘bout. Smile and live,” Foveaux said, and with that, the candles went out and the reading was over.
Rae stood and said goodnight to Madame Foveaux. On her doorstep, she waited until Rae had crossed it, then she bent down, scooped up some of the red brick dust that was there and sprinkled it over the girl’s shoulder as she walked away.
Madame Foveaux watched the Buick turn and move off down the driveway toward the road then she made the sign of the cross and blew a kiss.
“ Que Dieu vous bénisse, mon cher!”
Chapter Five
Stone Mountain, Georgia
Summer, 1970
“There’s a car coming up the driveway, Miss Rae. Go tell your father that she’s here.”
“Okay, Mrs. Newland,” she replied, turning around and moving directly for her father’s study.
“It seems our guests are here, Daddy,” Rae announced. “Mrs. Newland has gone out front to see to their arrival. Everything’s been made ready in her bedroom and I made sure to put her in the farthest room from the master suite.”
“God bless you, girl,” Alexander Lexington said.
“What do you think she wants?”
“The usual, dear. She’s still strung out from that week she spent last year at the Woodstock Festival. She got so sick that when emergency services found her, they told me she was one more hit away from an overdose. I made them keep her in the hospital for a month, then had her transferred to St. Mary’s to recover.”
“Yeah, she really got a fail on that one. I just hope she’s better. John and I have a really busy summer getting ready for the wedding. I don’t need her stirring up things.”
“She doesn’t know anything about what’s going on, so you can do what you want in that regard.”
Rae laughed at her father’s insinuations.
“And when the caterers start rolling in with trays of food and the florists are asking where to put the arrangements, what do I tell her?”
“That you’re throwing a really late confirmation party
for yourself.”
Laughing hysterically, Rae went directly through the hall and over to the guest wing. She had chosen an adjoining pair of second floor bedrooms for Cat and her companion. The suite had its own bathroom and sitting area. She was sure they would be comfortable. When she entered, the maid was just finishing up with making the beds. She was pleased with it; everything looked clean and fresh.
“Well done, Maria,” she announced as she passed into the adjoining walk-in closet and bathroom to check that there were sufficient hangers and towels put out.
“Thank you, ma’am,” she chirped.
Just then, Mr. Bowman entered the room carrying two large pieces luggage and behind him came a stiff looking gentleman carrying a garment bag over his shoulder.
“Good morning,” Rae greeted, extending her hand to him. “I am Rae Lexington. Welcome to Atlanta. You are?”
The man looked her up and down, clearly surprised before half-stammering his answer. He seemed surprised to find her there and even more so at her cheerful demeanor. Rae was taken aback by his attitude. She slowly let her extended hand fall back to her side.
“Ummm, yeah. I’m Charles. Friend of your mom’s, I guess.”
“You guess?” she repeated quizzically. “Which is it? Are you or aren’t you?”
Charles ignored her question and made his way further into the bedroom. He looked at the bed disdainfully.
“A little small for two people, isn’t it?”
Rae raised an eyebrow at him and looked at the full-sized bed.
“Well, we didn’t presume that you two were married and would be sleeping in the same bedroom.”
Charles laughed at the comment and replied, “Damn, you southerners are really a bunch of prudes, aren’t you? I can see now why Cat left the south.”
Rae straightened up and cleared her throat.
Damn Yankee! she thought.
“Mr. Bowman, would you please be kind enough to show Charles here to his bedroom where I’m sure he’ll find that a bed this size of his own will be more than adequate.”