East of Orleans

by Renee' Irvin

  Jacqueline threw her head back, black hair tumbled down her back. “Take him?” She was incredulous.

  “Yes, you can have him. I know that you have been, I mean, I believe you have interest in each other and I just want to go back home. I want to divorce him.”

  Jacqueline lit a cigarette and walked around the room. She walked over to the window and glanced out into the dark night, and then she turned back around and stared at Isabella.

  “Do you think I have no pride?” Asked Jacqueline, her green eyes narrowing.

  “No! I never thought that, I mean, I didn’t think that at all.”

  Jacqueline just stared. “I see,” she said. “What makes you believe that I want him?”

  Isabella’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Well, don’t you?”

  Jacqueline laughed. “What makes you think I’d share that with you?”

  Stunned, Isabella did not know what to say. Isabella noticed Jacqueline’s crimson silk dress; there was no doubt it had come from Paris. Isabella’s eyes widened as she glanced across the room and there, on top of a paw-footed plum mahogany table, was the crimson silk bonnet that she saw Jules buy in Mrs. Scarborough’s millinery shop. That fateful day three years ago.

  “He bought it for me a long time ago.”

  “I know,” said Isabella in a soft voice.

  Jacqueline looked away and her eyes welled with emotion. “You think you can just walk in here, tell me what to do with my life and walk back out again?”

  “No, please, I want to explain.” Isabella trembled and in minutes, but what seemed like hours, she explained to Jacqueline how she had ended up in Savannah and became the wife of Jules McGinnis.

  Despite the fact that Jacqueline understood the nature of Isabella’s dilemma, she still wanted to claw her eyes out.

  Isabella took a deep breath. “Don’t you see, does this not mean anything to you?”

  Jacqueline knew that she was about to like this woman whether she wanted to or not, but she knew that she had to watch her every move.

  Isabella’s eyes traveled from the crimson bonnet to a gold, French curio cabinet filled with exquisite European porcelains. Her eyes went back to Jacqueline and she studied the woman’s high cheekbones and thin oval face.

  Jacqueline sat down on an ornately carved red velvet sofa. “You took longer than I expected,” said Jacqueline. “Do you love him?”

  “Love him?” Isabella laughed nervously as she pushed back her hair. “As much as I’d love a snake.” She was startled to see Jacqueline’s sudden smile.

  “Are you here to take my house?” Jacqueline said, her words measured.

  “No!”

  “Good, because if you were, I might have to kill you. I want to live here until I die.” Jacqueline’s voice was cool and calm and Isabella knew Jules’s beautiful mistress meant every word she said.

  Isabella took a deep breath, “No, I don’t want to take anything from you. Not a thing. I just want you to take my husband.”

  “Isabella, that’s a pretty name. Who gave it to you?”

  Isabella was silent for a long moment, and then she said, “My daddy.”

  “He must love you very much to give you such a name.”

  “Yes, he did,” whispered Isabella.

  “Is he dead?”

  “He was murdered.”

  Jacqueline frowned and said, “I’m sorry. Well why don’t we get to the real reason you’re here.”

  Isabella felt numb, as she nodded and cleared her throat. “Jacqueline, I need your help,” Isabella said. “I’m desperate for a way to go back home. I have got to get away from Jules. My marriage is a scam; it’s not what you think.”

  “Did you marry Jules for his money?”

  Isabella stood up and walked over to the window. “Yes, I felt I had no choice, but why he married me I have never understood. Maybe you know?”

  Jacqueline looked at Isabella’s desperately sweet face. “I don’t want to talk about what happened. Jules was good to me. He gave me all of this,” she said, with a sweep of her arm to the living room’s magnificent décor, “a life I could have never dreamed of.” She paused then leaned forward. “But the thing I wanted most, he denied me. Then I betrayed him,”

  Isabella gave Jacqueline an odd look and whispered, “I see.”

  Jacqueline thought for a moment, and then nodded. “I don’t know what you want from me. Jules is a proud man. Jules married you to hurt me.” Isabella glanced up with a surprised look.

  “Do you know Patrick O’Brien?” asked Jacqueline.

  “Yes, I know who he is,” Isabella said softly.

  Jacqueline nodded. “Jules caught us in the bed together.”

  “But I thought you loved Jules?”

  Jacqueline looked away and shrugged. “I do love him,” she whispered.

  “Do you think he still loves you?” Asked Isabella.

  Jacqueline smiled. “He has an appetite for women, Jules is an impatient lover, but his actions tell me that he loves me.”

  “So he still comes to you?”

  “Yes.”

  Isabella stared blankly at the floor. Even though these were the words she had hoped to hear, they pained her as if she had just heard a dark secret. Isabella had never confessed to having feelings for Jules, so now why was she so affected by what she just heard? Isabella hesitated as the images of the women in Beaufort ran through her mind.

  “Do you know about Jules’s sharecroppers over in Beaufort?”

  “Oui.”

  “What do you know about them?” Asked Isabella.

  Jacqueline’s eyes narrowed. “Not very much, but I do know that man Jules has who works for him—Hoyt—stay away from him. There is something about him; I’m not real sure, but I am sure enough to know he’s bad.”

  “I know what you mean. He looks at me like he’d like to get me out of the way.”

  Jacqueline nodded and raised her brow. “I don’t doubt that.”

  Isabella looked down, thought for a moment, and then looked up, “There’s a little Negro girl in Beaufort—she couldn’t be older than twelve—she’s gonna have a baby any day now. Anyway, Eve said that Hoyt was the baby’s daddy. Of course, the girl didn’t have no say in the matter. Why would he take a little girl like that?”

  “Because he’s bad, that’s why,” said Jacqueline impatiently.

  “All their men have run off somewhere,” said Isabella.

  “Why do you think?” asked Jacqueline.

  “I ain’t real sure. Nobody wanted to say much of anything. Something bout Hoyt messing with the girl and then one of the Negro men was found hung, with his tongue cut out.”

  “That’s bad, but there isn’t anything you can do about it,” said Jacqueline.

  “I told them, I would be back. I told Eve and the rest of the women that I would help them.”

  “Are you crazy?” Jacqueline thought for a moment. “Of course, I wouldn’t mind seeing Hoyt squirm for a change.”

  “Hoyt told Jules that the sharecroppers were selling his crops across the river to the Yankees. Jules gave them until Monday night to come up with his money or he’s selling their houses.”

  Jacqueline walked over to the window and looked out. “Well, isn’t that honorable of Jules? What do you think that you can do about it?”

  “Can you keep a secret?” asked Isabella.

  Jacqueline turned around and stared at Isabella. “Of course, I can. I don’t want to see those women suffer any more than you do.”

  “Can you be as quiet as death?” asked Isabella.

  Jacqueline could not help but laugh. “Quieter,” she said.

  “Okay, here’s my plan.” She pointed to the large diamond ring on her left hand. “This is hope for those women. It’s freedom for them.”

  “You’re going to sell your jewelry?” asked Jacqueline.

  “I sure am.”

  “When?”

  “As soon as I can. I don’t have much time. I have to get help
to them soon.”

  Jacqueline looked down at her hand and pushed loose tendrils of hair away from her face. “Here, I don’t need this either.” She took off a priceless emerald and diamond ring and placed it in Isabella’s palm. Jacqueline took hold of Isabella’s hand. “I’ll go with you.”

  Isabella turned to a noise in the corner; the black cat meowed and jumped onto the sofa.

  Jacqueline walked into the kitchen, opened a pie safe, and removed a small gold pistol with an intricate mother of pearl handle. She pulled up her scarlet red skirt, bent over, and placed the gun inside of her black boot. Jacqueline went back into the parlor and said, “When are we leaving? We need a carriage.”

  “We can take mine. Let me see if Jesse is back from the park.” Isabella opened the front door and saw Jesse walking around the house to the front walkway.

  Jesse walked up to the open door. “You ready to go?”

  Isabella glanced inside at Jacqueline and then back at Jesse. “Yes but not home. Somewhere else.”

  “I’se afraid to ask, where?”

  “Do you know who we can sell our jewelry to?” Isabella asked Jacqueline.

  “Sam Hamilton,” said Jacqueline.

  Isabella stood slender and erect, She looked squarely at Jesse and in a no-nonsense voice, said, “We need to go to Sam Hamilton’s place.”

  “Oh no, I’se tell you both right now, I ain’t getting in the middle of dis.”

  Isabella remained steady and matter-of-fact as she spoke. “Ain’t nobody said a thing about you getting yourself into anything. We just need to go over to Mr. Hamilton’s and if you don’t want to take us, well, I suppose we can take ourselves.”

  “What you going over dere fo? Why you want to sell your jewelry? I suppose it could be worse, I was afraid you wanted me to take you over to Beaufort.”

  Isabella turned to Jacqueline. “Let’s go.”

  The horse’s feet stopped in front of Sam Hamilton’s jewelry store. A gas lamp flickered in a rear window and Isabella saw a man and woman inside.

  “Is that him?” Isabella asked Jacqueline.

  Jacqueline climbed down from the buggy and walked over to a foggy, glass-paned window and looked inside. “No, that isn’t Sam Hamilton, it’s Mr. Porter.”

  “Who’s dat?” Asked Jesse.

  “He works for Mr. Hamilton,” said Jacqueline.

  The three of them looked at Mr. Porter and a middle-aged woman who sat in a Queen Anne chair sipping tea from a blue willow teacup.

  “I hate to bother him,” said Isabella.

  “Den don’t. Let’s go,” said Jesse.

  Isabella shook her head. “No, we have to go in there.” About that time, Mr. Porter looked up, and saw the three looking in the window. Mr. Porter went around to the front of the store and opened the door. “Miss Rousseau? What a pleasant surprise!”

  “It’s a surprise all right,” said Jesse in a low voice. Isabella shot him a stern glance.

  Jacqueline gave Porter a seductive smile and entered the shop.

  “Is Sam here?” asked Jacqueline.

  “No, he had to go home. He has a large family you know,” Porter said as he smoothed down the hair on his balding head.

  “I see,” said Jacqueline, touching his arm. His eyes gleamed. Jacqueline took Porter’s hand into hers and looked up at him with reassuring eyes. “I have something that may be of interest to you.”

  “Is that right?” Porter said with a nervous laugh, glancing over at his lady friend.

  “I have something to sell.”

  “Well, that’s what I’m here for.”

  “It’s so nice to see a man with such big arms,” Jacqueline said coyly. “I get so tired of seeing such scrawny men with no muscles at all. Isabella, have you ever felt Mr. Porter’s muscle, the one in his arm?”

  He was grining now.

  “Has she gone crazy?” Jesse whispered to Isabella.

  “You see, we’ve squandered a fortune this week. Haven’t we, Isabella?” Jacqueline turned to Isabella and smiled. Mr. Porter, have you met Mrs. McGinnis?”

  “No, I can’t say that I have. McGinnis, now which McGinnis are you?”

  Jesse pinched Isabella’s arm; she jerked away. “Jules, my husband is Jules.”

  “The cotton broker? He has a warehouse down on Bay Street?”

  “Yes,” said Isabella.

  Porter’s hand went to his bearded face. “What’s the problem, ladies?”

  “Cards,” said Jacqueline.

  “Cards, uhmmm.” Porter said with a twinkle in his eyes.

  Jesse jerked his head around and stared at Jacqueline.

  “Why, I can’t tell you how much Mrs. McGinnis and I have thrown to the wind in the last week.” Jacqueline went breathless and exhaled. “And then, the ghost started coming.”

  “Ghosts?” asked Porter.

  Isabella glanced at Porter’s lady friend, who had a wrinkled brow and a confused look.

  “My mother’s ghost.” Jacqueline glanced toward the woman. “My mother was a sacred woman and she cannot rest in peace until I have paid my debt and repented of my sin. I am so ashamed.” Jacqueline’s eyes filled with tears.

  Jesse rolled his eyes and planted his hands deep in his pockets.

  “Why can’t you ladies just go to Jules? I’m sure he’d be happy to help you out,” said Porter.

  “And lose our honor!” cried Jacqueline.

  Jesse got choked and coughed.

  “I see,” said Porter, looking over his spectacles. “Alright, come this way, ladies,” he said as he ushered them into a side room. Isabella dragged Jesse along by the arm.

  Jacqueline smiled warmly at Porter. “I don’t recall you telling me your given name.”

  “Theodore.”

  “Theodore. What a strong name. May I call you Theodore?”

  “Yes,” Porter said with a smile.”Jacqueline paused to take a breath. “Of course you will call us Jacqueline and Isabella. There is something about you Theodore, something, I cannot describe, but the moment I met you I felt as though we were old friends. Did you make that connection?”

  Isabella proceeded to remove the drawstring purse form her bag and handed it to Jacqueline. Jacqueline shook the jewelry out into her hand. Mr. Porter looked down at Jacqueline’s palm, and the jewelry that glittered there.

  Porter nodded solemnly. “I can see where you ladies are in a difficult situation.”

  Jacqueline knew the words of victory. She eyed Porter through her thick black lashes, knowing his next move would be an attempt to purchase the jewelry for much less than she and Isabella wanted.

  Porter removed a jeweler’s loop from his vest pocket and examined the two diamond rings and a broken strand of pearls that Isabella had thrown in. “Well, I wouldn’t want to upset you ladies and the last thing that I would want to do is insult the two of you by making you an offer that I am sure is much less than Jules or—.” He shot Jacqueline a look.

  “Jules,” Jacqueline said with a coy smile.

  “Yes, of course.” Porter scratched his head and glanced at his lady friend then looked back down at Jacqueline’s ring and said, “Both these rings are exceptional, but this one came from New York’s most prestigious jeweler. You sure you want to part with this?”

  “What will you give me for it?” Asked Jacqueline.

  Isabella searched Porter’s face anxiously.

  I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you ladies two thousand dollars for all three pieces.

  A faint smile spread across Jacqueline’s face. “Thank you, Theodore, but you know those three pieces are worth five times your offer. I guess we’ll just wait and see Sam tomorrow.” Jacqueline took the jewelry from Porter and placed it back in the velvet pouch.

  “Can I see the pieces, ladies?” Mr. Porter’s lady friend spoke for the first time.

  Jacqueline handed the pouch to the woman and watched her remove her eyeglasses and examine the pieces. “What do you need?”

  “Three thousa
nd dollars,” said Jacqueline.

  “I’ll pay twenty-five hundred.”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t take that.”

  “Can I speak with Theodore alone?”

  “Certainly,” said Jacqueline.

  The woman got up and took Theodore into a back room. “I’m not a millionaire!” Jacqueline and Isabella heard him scream. Then Porter walked out of the back room and blushed. “I’ll pay twenty-five hundred and three hundred dollars in silver.”

  “Twenty-eight hundred dollars?” Said Isabella. Jacqueline shot her a quick look.

  Jesse watched the bargaining with amused awe.

  “Theodore, if you will unlock the door, we have to be going. Tell Sam I’ll stop by tomorrow,” said Jacqueline.

  “I really want to do right by you, ladies.”

  “We know you do,” said Jacqueline.

  “Could I lend you the rest?” asked Porter. Jacqueline shook her head. She headed out of the shop, followed by Isabella, Jesse and Porter.

  As they stood out on the porch a tall, bearded man walked by.

  “Ladies,” he said and nodded as he walked briskly by. Porter’s lady friend came out onto the porch. She clenched her white hands and said, “Twenty-six hundred and three hundred in silver.”

  “Twenty-nine hundred?” Asked Isabella.

  “We’ll take it,” said Jacqueline.

  The ride into Beaufort was dark and cold. Isabella’s teeth chattered and she shivered.

  “You okay?” Jesse said, glancing at her with a concerned eye.

  “Yeah, I just have a cold.”

  It shocked Isabella to see how many old slaves lived out in the woods with nothing more than a black pot to boil clothes in and moonshine still behind their shacks. Moonshine was one of the few ways these former slaves earned money. Jesse paid close attention to the road. There were drunks scattered all along the road and throughout the woods. Children and women sat on the front of rotted porches, watching them pass.

  “Do you remember your mother?” Isabella asked Jesse.

  “Oh yeah, I’se remember her well. She used to tell me stories about how her and my daddy used to hide out in de woods right after the war with nothing to eat but some berries; they almost starved. A preacher and his wife took them in or daddy said they would have starved to death.” Jesse fetched a blanket and threw it over Isabella. “I did see a man who had starved to death once. It was the worse thing I’se ever seen. Saw him ‘bout sundown, I was going down a road to get back over to Charleston. I seen him laying dere and at first I thought that he wuz just drunk. I walked up to him and he didn’t move. I hollered for him to wake up and he barely opened his eyes and glanced up at me. He seemed to be having trouble breathing so I bent down over him. I didn’t smell no liquor so I knew dat he wuz not drunk. His face was sunk in, you could see his rib bones. He took his last breath right there.”