by Nat Burns
Her imagination ran rampant, or perhaps it was her sensitive nature, but she could feel the souls of all those buried here beneath the water. She knew some had gone away, scattered helter-skelter by hurricane fury. A storm came along every few years and washed the remains away, back to the vastness of the bayou. Others, more recent burials, rested below in woven wooden coffins, silently. Peacefully. Small fish and crustaceans fed here and carried parts back into nature’s extensive web of life.
Sighing, Sophie pulled her pole free and stowed it in the lock. She crouched and lay both palms on the polished wood splits, her fingers grasping hold.
“My love and faith to you, Grandmother. Care for your new companions and they will care for you. From one world to the next, only that endures,” she said softly, then she repeated it in the old language for those below who wouldn’t have understood.
Tears filled her eyes. She paused then and slid a heavy necklace of hematite beads from around her neck. She fastened it securely to the edge of the coffin.
“Goodbye, Beulah Rene Fox Cofe. May your rest be peaceful and your next life filled with joy.”
Moving to the back, she slid Grandam down the specially designed ramp of the boat. She stood, hands clasped and watched as the bayou water crept inside and claimed Grandam’s body. She stood a long time, here in this place of the dead, until the bubbles stopped rising and Grandam had settled herself among the sleeping ones below. Warmth suffused Sophie and she felt comforted.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Light of Holiness Church was overflowing with bodies, color and sound. Beulah’s family wore their finest to mark her passing. All knew the elaborate coffin, closed as traditional with the Manu Lisse, lay empty at the front of the church, but it didn’t matter; this social event would serve to celebrate the life of the bayou’s beloved healer. The gange people of Redstar would have been horrified to discover that Beulah wasn’t inside, but it was a cherished secret knowledge only among the Manu.
Sophie supposed every person they’d ever helped had come to pay their last respects. The people spilled from the church, completely filling the expansive green outside. Her heart swelled to think her grandmother’s memory beat in so many hearts. Grandam would be pleased. A few seemed to be just this side of the veil themselves, no doubt thinking they would soon reunite with Beulah.
As was their way, while Brother Kinder spoke about the importance of Beulah Cofe’s life, the women keened softly, slow petitions to entreat the Others to guard her well and make her life a welcome asset to them. The sound formed a bridge of transfer as this life gave up the well-loved woman to the Other Side.
Sophie moved in a cloud of numbness, the grief from Grandam’s real funeral lingering. It may have been simple fatigue that deadened her; she had not rested a moment since Grandam had passed. There had been so much to do, taking care of loose ends and orchestrating all the necessary ritual. Dying creates a whole new set of chores for those left behind. The tasks were winding down now, however, and soon life would return to something resembling normalcy. She knew this, deep in her soul; today however, she was plain tuckered out.
Also troubling was Delora’s notable absence. She’d not returned any of Sophie’s hurried messages and hadn’t spoken to her since Louie’s funeral. It pained her heart to think Delora didn’t care.
Then the service was over and Sophie accepted the hugs and handshakes of those who had loved or known her grandmother. Their faces passed in a familiar blur. They presented a daily diary of their healing career. Her grandmother had once presented her to each of them, proud that Sophie was following her life as a healer.
Sophie sighed as she accepted the condolences of Reggie Platte. She smiled and held his hand as he told her an endless story about his time with Beulah. After he moved on, she allowed her gaze to roam the room, searching for that one familiar face.
And there she was. She stood to Sophie’s left, over at the end of the church, where the pews ended. Sophie’s heart skipped a beat and joy warmed her. Delora’s smile was sweet and sad when their eyes met. Her eyes appeared red and Sophie wondered at this.
Distracted by another well-wisher, Sophie pulled her gaze away and moments later Delora approached her.
“Sophie, I’m so sorry I didn’t call. Things have been nuts with Rosalie and finding a place to live. Can you forgive me?”
Sophie’s eyes let her know all was okay. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said, taking Delora’s hand in both of hers. “Can you stay after?”
“Of course,” Delora replied. “As long as you need me.”
She moved away into the crowd and Sophie felt the void.
“Is that your little girl? The one Clary told me about?” Faye appeared at Sophie’s side.
“Yeah, her name’s Delora. I’ll introduce you later.”
“She’s pretty.” Her eyes followed Delora as the small woman approached Stephen.
“Yes, she is,” Sophie agreed. The crowd had finally begun to disperse and she felt relieved. “Her husband just died.”
“I thought you said that. When?”
“Almost a week ago. He was a monster and she’s well shed of him.”
“How will she get on?” Faye examined one of her perfectly polished fingernails.
Sophie’s face screwed in irritation as she regarded her mother. “She works harder than anyone I know. She’ll be fine.”
“Still. Does she have family?”
“Yes, Mama,” Sophie said, taking in a deep breath as she moved away. She was eager to bid Faye farewell. Life was so much easier without her at Salamander House. “We need to go speak to Brother Kinder, then let’s get on back home. I’m tired.”
“Sure, honey, sure.” Faye watched her daughter with a concerned expression.
“So what are the chances of this happening? Louie dying and you losing your grandma at about the same time?” Delora had pulled her knees to her chest and was resting her chin on them. Her mien was thoughtful.
“Slim,” Sophie replied quietly.
They were sitting side-by-side on the wooden steps of the shed behind Salamander House. Most of the visitors had left, but a wealth of family remained inside.
“I mean, it’s just too weird.”
“It is,” Sophie agreed.
Delora glanced at the house and saw Faye in the kitchen holding court.
“Your mom is something, isn’t she?”
“Yeah,” Sophie laughed softly. “She is that.”
Delora took Sophie’s hand and pressed it into the dress fabric stretched across her knee. The hand was tanned and strong and Delora loved the feel of the knuckles as she pressed them with her palm.
“Will you be okay? I know how dear she was to you. To everyone.”
Sophie sighed and squeezed Delora’s hand once quickly. She pulled the hand away and seemed to collapse into herself. Delora noted the phenomenon right away.
“I buried her, you know.”
“I know, baby. I was there.”
“No.” Sophie shook her head. “She wasn’t there today. I buried her last night. In the bayou, in the old ways of our people.”
“You did what?” Delora turned her head, cheek on her knees, and studied Sophie.
“Up the river, where all our family lay.”
“So who was in the coffin?” Delora was trying to understand Sophie’s words.
“No one.” The phrase was a sigh, sad and low. “I took her there alone, up the water to the grotto. She’ll rest there.” She said it with conviction, as if trying to convince herself. “It was really beautiful, Lora. All the Manu were there on the banks with lanterns and candles. Even flashlights. They were there to light her journey to the Others.”
“The Others? Sophie, honey, I don’t understand. Where is your grandmother?”
Sophie rose abruptly and paced to and fro with unusual urgency. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be telling you this anyway. I’m breaking all the rules for you—a gange who can’t possibly understand th
e importance of the issue of dying alone with no family to ease your passage. It’s just not done and I really feel like I’ve let the family down.”
“But Sophie, I don’t know...”
The other woman turned away and folded her arms protectively. “And I shouldn’t expect you to, Delora. I’m just feeling guilty. My place was here that night.”
Delora felt a spark of anger stir, righteous, yet sorrowful. “Here. Not in Redstar.”
Sophie, her face twisted with pain, hung her head sadly. Moving quickly, she stepped away in through the screen door. The sound of voices talking swallowed her and she was gone.
Delora sat stunned for several moments, then found her footing and moved rapidly toward her car.
Chapter Fifty-Four
The house was small, but that suited Delora. The close walls gave her a secure feeling. There was one good-sized bedroom, a smaller bedroom the size of a large closet, and a bathroom with a handheld shower above a clawfoot tub. The living room held a worn sofa, one chair and a battered TV set.
“I’ll take it,” she said to Annie. “It’s perfect.”
Annie shrugged and leaned toward the wall, resting her weight on one shoulder. “Well, not perfect, certainly. But comfortable and it’s a month to month. Sorry it’s so far from town.”
“It’s about the same as I was driving before. Just from a different direction.” She moved to the kitchen window and peered through. A view of the bayou greeted her. Sun touched the water, the rays dancing atop the moving current like tiny whirling stars.
“Has Rose gotten over you moving?”
“No,” Delora sighed and looked in one of the spacious kitchen cabinets. “But ask me if I care. I’m so pissed at her for treating me so mean all those years.”
Annie sighed. “That just ain’t right, Delora. You don’t mistreat family. Not really. Even if they’re not your blood.”
“Right and that there’s a point, isn’t it. Shows what she thought of me.”
“Are you gonna be all right here? Sure?” Annie’s eyes filled with concern as she regarded her new tenant.
Delora smiled bravely. “Tough as nails. Don’t you worry.”
“I do worry, but I’m glad you’re living here where it’s pretty safe. Watch out for moccasins and gators though. The baby gators come up in the yard sometimes and eat pet food or scrap food if you leave it out.”
Delora’s mouth fell open as she followed Annie to the door. “Wow.”
Annie laughed and opened her car door. “Well, back to the bookkeeping. You call me you need anything, hear?”
Delora nodded and waved until Annie had pulled out of the drive.
Once the sound of Annie’s car faded, the sound of the swamp inundated Delora. It amazed her with its growing noise. Squinting her eyes, she stepped off the low porch and moseyed back to her car and the belongings it held. The grass in her yard was nowhere near as pretty as that at Salamander House, and she felt a sudden urge to call Sophie and ask her what she did to make it so green. She shook her head as she hoisted two garbage bags from the trunk and carried them into the house. Not a good idea.
The thought of never talking to Sophie again nagged at her but was held at bay by the anger she harbored toward her. No one had a right to talk to her that way. No right to wrongly blame her for something.
But Sophie. This was Sophie. So precious. So good. It rankled on one end that the woman she loved was angry with her. And about what? For making love? It rankled another way that it was Sophie, the finest, sweetest woman she knew. This rejection hurt worse than the rejection of her love. Obviously Sophie thought she was just a bad person all the way around. That smarted because Delora wanted so badly to be good, to please Sophie. She really had thought the two of them had created something worthy of cherishing and fostering. Now here she was alone. Again. With her guilt.
After fetching a large cardboard box from the backseat, Delora stood in the middle of the haphazardly furnished living room and surveyed her possessions. The box held new household items purchased from Mannings Grocery. Once she took full stock of what she’d need, she’d make a trip to Goshen. The Walmart there had everything.
As she pulled rolled maps from one of the bags, she felt a tremulous smile creep out and touch upon her lips. This was her new home. She no longer needed to be quiet when she came in from work. She no longer had to deal with Louie’s abusive comments or Rosalie’s disdain. Home. Her eyes scanned the walls, seeking the best place for the transportation department map. She found a likely spot and climbed onto the sofa. She allowed the map to roll open along her legs as she held it up to the wall. Sudden sadness washed across her. She no longer wanted to leave Redstar. She wanted to stay here. Here with Sophie. Dropping to sit on the sofa, she tossed the map onto the floor and wept silent, bitter tears.
Chapter Fifty-Five
They stopped in front of the Cape Cod where Hinchey lived with his mother. Hinchey glanced with nervous eyes toward the blank living room windows.
“I sure don’t know what to tell her,” he said quietly. “There’s no way she’s gonna understand my leaving.”
“Do you have to leave?” Delora studied her hands on the steering wheel to avoid looking at Hinchey. “I mean, I think we’ve been through the worst of it.”
Hinchey looked at Delora, hope flaring in his heart. Did she really want him to stay? Watching her closely, he noticed she was nervous—walking a fine line, not wanting him to see too much. He knew that if she really wanted more from him, he would know.
“No, it’s past time I leave Redstar.”
They fell silent as sorrow writhed in Hinchey’s heart. He turned his attention toward his mother and looked again toward the house. Resigned, he sighed and moved from the vehicle.
“Wait here.”
Delora nodded and leaned back in the driver’s seat.
The television droned a news patois as Hinchey quietly entered. A gentle snore greeted him and he saw his mother was sleeping in the recliner. Grateful, he crept to the stairway and mounted quietly, still unsure what he would say about why he was leaving so suddenly. He wasn’t sure he knew why himself. Delora had certainly covered the truth about Louie. No one knew what really happened, he was sure of that. Upstairs he could hear the television in his mother’s room as well, though tuned to a different station. Jay Leno’s tenor laugh sounded regularly.
His bedroom waited quietly as if it knew nothing about the life-changing events that had transpired during the past few weeks. It no longer fit him, however, appearing suddenly too small and foreign. Uncomfortable, he rushed to pack the suitcase he had used on his one and only trip—to Las Vegas to visit his Aunt Corrine during the week his mom had her hysterectomy. He hadn’t much liked Vegas. The constant noise and bustle of the gambling community grated on his nerves. No one ever slept in Vegas, even on the outskirts where Corrine and Arthur lived with their spoiled son, Robert. The flight had been fun, though, with pretty flight attendants doting on the twelve-year-old flying alone halfway across the country.
He filled the suitcase with essentials, sadly bidding farewell to his extensive video collection and his 19-inch TV. Could he manage without them? His dreams for a better life had been so wrapped up in these visions crafted by others.
He caught a glimpse of his face in the bureau mirror and slowly smiled at himself. Maybe it was time—to the devil with fear and hesitation—for him to make dreams come true. His favorite clothes went into the suitcase, stacking nicely due to his mother’s talent for precise folding. He managed to fit in two pair of shoes, one dress pair and his slippers. He gathered his toiletries from the bathroom and tucked them into a small case that he slid into a corner of the larger bag. There was little else he needed. Looking around the room, he saw nothing he couldn’t do without. Fetching the CDs and DVDs from his desk, he tossed them into the case and zipped it closed. He wrapped his laptop securely in its cord and stuffed it into its carrying case. He stood a long moment, composing himself, be
fore he scrawled a brief note telling his mother he would call her with an explanation.
Heart beating in his chest like a jackhammer, he descended the stairs and paused at the living room door. His mother slept on, oblivious to the massive change occurring in her life. He almost woke her but reconsidered. He watched her a moment but not long enough for his presence to penetrate the haze of her slumber. He placed the note on the kitchen table.
“Everything okay?” Delora asked as he settled himself into the car.
Hinchey tried to shake off burgeoning feelings of sadness.
“There’s one more thing,” Delora said, her mouth in a firm line as she pulled her bag closer.
“What?”
“Wait, what’s this?” Hinchey asked when she handed him the stack of money that she pulled from her bag.
“Money.”
“But…”
“Just shut up, Hinchey. Wait while I get through this traffic.”
“Delora, I can’t keep this,” Hinchey exclaimed as he counted it. “There’s like a thousand dollars here.”
Delora glanced at him and laughed. He resembled a modern-day Midas, covered with green lucre and clutching bills in his left hand.
“Do you see this?” he exclaimed.
“I want you to have it. To start your new life. I don’t want to hear any more about it.”
“But Delora...”
“Hinchey,” she replied in a menacing tone.
They pulled onto Main Street and found themselves in unusually heavy traffic for a hot night in August. A chain of bright lights unrolled past them.
“Damn. Who opened the gate?” muttered Hinchey. He still held the money spread in his lap.
Delora looked at him. “You’d better put that away or pack it up somehow.”
Hinchey complied, rolling bundles of bills and stuffing them into his computer bag.
“So, what did you do with your truck?” Delora asked as they neared the bus station.