Bayou Baby

by Miller, Renee

  “My eyes are not purple. They are blue.”

  “Dey is purple. Like de violets growin wild here. She was a beauty too. Pascal’s daddy used to keep her hidden away, fearin someone would steal her, I s’pose. She hung herself up out de window one night while he was out roostin in the slave houses.”

  “What?”

  “It would seem she weren’t happy holed away in dat big old house. ‘Specially when she found out he takin a fancy to one of de slave girls, fathered a youngun wit her too.”

  “As you said, that’s common.” Rowan would think the poor woman would be happy he left her alone. She would rejoice if her husband preferred not to touch her.

  “It be common, but de master don’t usually let de child live if de wife find out. He even gave de girl money for de baby. Took her off de plantation, and hid her in de swamp.”

  “This is crazy.” Rowan couldn’t imagine a rich man preferring a slave to a white woman.

  “Crazy it may be, but it be true too.” Alique began to walk toward the camp. “You know de child dey had. De chile they hid away out here for all its life.”

  “Do I?” She frowned. Very few of the children survived the swamp. The life was harsh and of they survived, many were caught by wealthy plantation owners eventually.

  Henri nudged her arm. “Ask him her name.”

  “Henri, he didn’t say it was a girl.”

  “Ask him.”

  “Fine. What was the child’s name?”

  Alique continued to walk, as though he didn’t hear her. As they cleared the trees, coming upon the fire, she heard him reply, “Celestine.” Her heart fluttered in her chest, the air grew hot, and she shook her head. “No, she would have told me.”

  “Celestine don’t tell no one her secrets chile. Not all of em, anyhow. But dat Lucien, he knows who she be. He knows all his misery be by her hand too, as her mama vowed de day his grandpa left her out der all alone. Celestine was only a chile, an he took her mama back to de big house and left dat poor girl alone in de swamp. Good thing her granny found her, or she’d have been gator feed.”

  Rowan stood speechless as he entered the camp where people gathered at the fire. Henri urged her forward, but she couldn’t move. Mama Gator was Lucien’s aunt? Everything she believed, all that she made up in her mind about Mama Gator and her illustrious roots had been shattered. She could hear the tiny fragments of her faith and love for the old woman falling to the ground, each opening the dark hole inside her soul. Mama Gator was no great voodoo queen. She was no powerful woman from a line of freed slaves. She was just a Dumas.

  CHAPTER 23

  Seated by the fire, staring back at several curious faces, Rowan trembled as shock took over her senses. Mama Gator knew everything all along and never once had she warned Rowan about Lucien. How could she leave knowing the man who came that day was Rowan’s father?

  “You okay?” Henri asked.

  Rowan turned. He offered her his bowl, soup given to them by an elderly woman when they sat down. Her stomach lurched at the thought of eating. “I’m fine. Not hungry.”

  “You must eat,” Alique said from the other side of the fire.

  Rowan looked up.

  He sat cross-legged next, a bowl in his own hands. His face once more expressionless, she couldn’t read his thoughts. His eyes shimmered with something she didn’t like, though.

  “I ate not long ago, thank you.”

  “You be angry and I get dat. But you be punishing de chile for her father’s sins. Dat not be de wise thing to do.”

  Rowan stiffened. She swore she felt the heat of Henri’s gaze. “Why would you say a thing like that?” she asked, ignoring Henri’s stare.

  “Is easy to see, cherie. Your skin glows wit de look of a mama, and your eyes carry de knowledge.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “But I be right.” Alique smiled, casting a glance to Henri. “Eat, den we talk about other things.”

  Rowan took the bowl from Henri’s hands. She felt him moving beside her, knew he stared at her as she ate. She wouldn’t lie to him about the father, although it might make her life easier if everyone believed the child was his. She wanted no one claiming her child. No one.

  “Rowan?”

  “Later, Henri.”

  “Who?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” She sipped the thin broth, feeling better despite her reluctance to eat it. “I don’t need the father to raise it. Leave it alone.”

  “Is it Lucien’s?”

  She didn’t want Henri to claim it, but neither did she want anyone knowing her child’s true father. “No. I don’t know.”

  Henri sighed, placing his arm around her waist. Next to him, Justine watched them covertly her eyes flicking over now and then. Judging by the flush of her cheeks, Rowan guessed she was jealous. Part of her enjoyed it. Another part wished Henri would ignore her and go to Justine.

  “Mine?” he asked.

  “I don’t—just leave it Henri. Please.”

  He leaned forward so his face was inches from hers. “I need to know. Rowan, it is my right.”

  Rowan sputtered. “Your right? You attacked me and gave me no choice but to allow you inside of me. You forced me to accept your seed. You have no rights.”

  “We’ll discuss this later ,” he warned, sitting back.

  Rowan followed his gaze. Several eyes watched them, Alique’s the most disturbing. He knew she was about to lie to Henri. She could see it in the direct stare he pinned her with. No matter, once they left here, she need never see Alique again. He spoke in hushed tones to the old woman next to him, but smiled when he looked up and caught her staring.

  “Now, tell us your story,” Alique told her. “Claire wishes to know why you be hiding wit us when dis man here can take care of you.”

  Rowan laughed, earning a frown from Henri. “Henri can barely care for himself. He’s in as much danger as I am.”

  “He be a wealthy white man.”

  “And he crossed Lucien. No one, no matter how wealthy, crosses a Dumas.”

  “Why you be helpin a slave, boy? You love her?” the old woman, Claire, asked Henri.

  “No… I mean, I care for her, but I don’t—it’s complicated.” Henri stammered. Rowan noticed he didn’t look at Justine, who gazed adoringly up at him. “I’ve known Rowan since she was a girl, and I’ve grown fond of her. She’s been wronged and I just want to make my part in that right.”

  “We all be wronged,” Claire said.

  The flames from the small fire cast shadows over her dark face. All Rowan could make out were the whites of her eyes, and when she smiled, her mouth formed a dark hole where no teeth were present. Her skin was heavily lined, as Mama Gator’s had been, but her head had no hair at all. Touching her own hair, curling a lock around her finger, Rowan couldn’t imagine what that might be like.

  “Rowan has had some rather bad luck lately,” Justine added. “She deserves something good to happen to her.”

  Hearing her voice after such a long silence startled Rowan. “Thank you Justine.” She didn’t like how Justine’s defense made her feel inside. “I can speak for myself.”

  “Well?” Claire fixed her gaze on Rowan. If not for the missing hair, she might be looking at Mama Gator. It unnerved Rowan to see the same spirit in this old woman’s eyes.

  Rowan set her bowl on the ground next to her, stared down at her hands, and collected her thoughts before speaking. “It’s really a long story, but I’ll try to keep it simple. My mother sold me to Rosaline; I assume you know of her?”

  Claire’s face wrinkled further at the mention of Rosaline. “Yes, we know of dat witch. She be pure evil, dat one.”

  “She is, but Mama didn’t know. She thought she was helping me because she was dying and she worried I couldn’t look after myself.” Rowan’s words sounded hollow to even her ears. She felt nothing speaking of her mother. Strange. “Rosaline then sold me to Lucien, who did things to me, along with Rosaline and several others. I tol
d him I was his daughter, but he either doesn’t care, or refuses to believe it. Either way, he hates me and would do anything to punish me for things he imagines my mother has done to him. If I had stayed, I’d be dead by now. I did what I had to do to get out of there.”

  “What did you do?” Reo’s voice pulled Rowan out of her memories.

  She glanced to her right, where Reo lay on his belly, head propped on his hands as though listening to a bedtime story. His eyes narrowed as he stared. Rowan got the impression he didn’t believe her, or at the very least suspected she was holding back. What was it about these people that they could read her so well? How did they know things that she hadn’t told anyone?

  He’s a child and they are simply people. You’re getting carried away. Calm down, tell them what you will, but do not fear them.

  The voice in her head calmed her frazzled nerves. Sighing she glanced back to Alique, who like Reo, sat forward eager to hear the rest. They asked for it.

  Rowan shrugged. “I killed two men to get out of the house they held me in. I did that for Justine and myself, because there was no choice. They would have killed one of us.” Justine nodded and Alique gave her a smile. Everyone treated the girl as though she were feeble, and perhaps she was. Rowan grew weary of her weakness. She wished the girl would grow a backbone and be her own person. If she wasn’t leaning on Rowan, she leaned on Henri, and now these people.

  “Den what?” Claire asked.

  “Then Justine left while I took care of Rosaline.”

  “You killed her too?” Reo’s voice was a whisper, his eyes wide.

  “Yes, I did. I wouldn’t have made it far if she lived.”

  “And you owed her,” Alique said.

  Rowan avoided his gaze. “She did terrible things to not only me, but every girl in that house. She has been murdering and abusing those women for years.” Looking up she met his gaze evenly, daring him to argue with her. “I owe the rest of them too. I won’t stop until the every one of them, including my father, draws his last breath.”

  “It is a terrible burden to carry chile, to pass judgment on another,” Claire sighed.

  “I passed no judgments.” Rowan knew she sounded defensive, but didn’t care. If these people were happy to allow rich men like Lucien to dictate their lives, they were welcome to hide forever. Rowan wasn’t about to do that. To live, she must ensure those men did not. Simple. “Don’t judge me for things you can’t possibly understand.”

  Alique tsked, shifting to stretch his legs. “You took a life, but I do not judge you for it. Only God above has dat right.”

  “God hasn’t given a damn about me, so I’m not waiting for His hand to get around to passing out their punishment. Besides, He is a white God. He would never help me anyway.”

  Claire shook a gnarled finger at her. “Oh chile, you best be careful what you put out in de world. It come back to you in de end. You pass out hate and vengeance, dat be the like you get back.”

  “I know. Mama Gator was very clear about such things. I’m the only person who’ll see Lucien pays for what he’s done. Whatever the consequences are, I’m willing to face them. I can’t allow him to continue hurting innocent people. A just God wouldn’t want that either.”

  “You are wise chile, but you know nothing about de way de spirits work.”

  “Rowan is going to be smart from now on, because she has a responsibility to keep her child safe.” Henri took her hand as he spoke. Rowan tugged but he held tight. “I won’t let her do anything stupid.”

  Alique stood. “Seems you are too late. Come, it grows late and we do not like to let de fire blaze too long. Less chance of being discovered if der is no light to mark our spot.”

  “Where will we sleep?” Henri asked, rising and then offering a hand to each woman. Justine took it gladly, leaning close to him when she stood. Rowan ignored him and glared at the girl.

  “You and de girl will sleep with me,” Claire pointed at Rowan. “Your man will share Alique’s home tonight.”

  “But—”

  Claire cut Henri’s argument off with a stern look. “Dat be de way we do things here. Des girls be unwed, whores or no. Unwed girls not be sharing beds wit de men. Unless you care to marry one of dem?”

  “No, I—” Henri sputtered.

  Rowan took Justine’s hand and dragged the reluctant girl toward Claire. “Henri wouldn’t soil his name by marrying a whore. He’s trying to be chivalrous; we might run off in the night and endanger ourselves.”

  Henri glared, the muscle in his jaw twitched with in his anger.

  Rowan was happy to delay any discussion with him. She didn’t want to explain the baby, and she needed time to decide how she would handle it. She followed Claire to a small hut at the far side of the clearing. Glancing back at Henri, who followed Alique to a hut close to the fire, she smiled. Perhaps it would be best to disappear in the night.

  CHAPTER 24

  Rowan couldn’t sleep. She lay listening as Claire’s soft snores filled the small hut while staring at the cracked earth of the wall. It smelled damp, and tiny pieces of mud clung to her arm where it slipped off the straw pallet and touched the dirt floor. Justine tossed about next to her, their uncomfortable spot on the floor making sleep nearly impossible.

  She knew Alique kept watch outside. Now and then, voices murmured in the darkness. She had to figure out a way to leave without Justine and Henri.

  Lucien would be wondering what happened to her, and she couldn’t disappoint him. Rowan smiled and turned to face the wall. She closed her eyes, remembering the feeling of power when Pierre’s blood stained her hands. She couldn’t wait to see the same look of wonder in Lucien’s eyes, the shock and horror of his fate as it would be revealed to him. He’d never see it coming, which suited her just fine.

  Heat moved into Rowan’s belly, spreading across her breasts and down until moisture dampened her clothes. Power was an addictive feeling. It did things to her she’d never experienced before.

  Slipping her hand under the blankets, she found the sweet spot in the center of her body, a spot she’d discovered only a few summers ago, and her mind drifted into sleep while her body writhed with the pleasure of her touch.

  Claire snorted from the doorway. Rowan opened her eyes, but she continued to move her hand, unable to let go of the sensations, biting her tongue in the effort to keep from crying out. Dots of light brightened the darkness around her when she stiffened against her hand, moaning softly.

  Slowly the heat dissipated, leaving her exhausted. Claire’s snores resumed, and Rowan smiled. She rolled over and saw the old woman watching her, a frown creasing her leathery brow. Rowan pretended not to notice. Part of her sensed the growing madness in her soul, and she suspected the old woman saw it in her eyes before she closed them and drifted asleep.

  ***

  Already awake as the camp stirred the next morning, Rowan lay listening to the men outside as they discussed the plans for the day while the women prepared breakfast. She heard children giggling, their mothers scolding them for getting in the way. She wanted to lay there forever, to forget everything but the simplicity of this life, but she knew it wasn’t possible. As long as Lucien breathed, she would not be free to enjoy anything.

  Turning over, she watched Justine stretch and rise from the pallet, her slender frame even smaller than when they first met.

  Justine glanced down.

  Rowan smiled.

  “Oh, did I wake you?”

  “No, I was just enjoying the quiet. I should go out, or my bladder may burst.”

  Justine blushed at Rowan’s candor; it took little to embarrass the girl. Rowan wondered how it was she lived at Rosaline’s and could still be shocked by anything.

  “Is Henri awake?” Rowan asked.

  Justine’s face brightened at Henri’s name, her usually dim eyes sparkling. “I heard him with Alique very early this morning. They were going to see to the traps. I hope they didn’t catch anything. I can’t stand the thoug
ht of some poor animal suffering so.”

  Rowan stood, straightening her now wrinkled gown. “Well, I like to eat. If that means something smaller and less intelligent must die, so be it.”

  “We are all God’s creatures. It’s wrong to think He values us over the rest simply because we’re bigger and smarter.”

  Rowan breathed deep to calm herself. The girl was young and poorly educated. It wasn’t her fault she was stupid. “You’re welcome to your fairy tales. In my experience, the only god watching over me is biased and vengeful. He prefers the white man who can build him a great temple and offer him gold and fine things. He helps us when it’s convenient, not when we’re in need. Personally, I’m getting tired of waiting for that god’s mercy. He doesn’t care for me, or I him.”

  “I’m sorry for you,” Justine murmured and hurried out of the little hut.

  Rowan shook her head and sighed.

  “Jus because you seen things dat girl will never know, doesn’t mean you should insult her.” Claire’s voice startled Rowan.

  She peered into the shadows and saw the old woman seated next to a table in the opposite corner. “I wasn’t insulting her.”

  Claire shook her head, and pointed a crooked finger at Rowan. “You was takin your anger at your life out on dat chile. I know you had some hard times, be we all have an dat chile don’t do nothing but good. Don’t punish her for what be stolen from you. Goodness be a fine quality to have.”

  “She isn’t all good,” Rowan recalled the change in Justine’s face as she’d ground her hips over Peter’s. She’d enjoyed some of it, Rowan was certain. She turned to Claire. “You mean to tell me that you believe God is watching out for you? In this place, after all your people have suffered, you believe that?” Rowan walked closer so that she could see the old woman’s face. Again, she was reminded of Mama Gator in Claire’s toothless grin.

  “We are here, alive and well.” The old woman knocked on the table. “Knock on wood, we be here for a long time. All I ask God for is forgiveness, nothing more. He give it to me every day I wake up and breathe air. You ask too much chile. He cannot change what evil does. What you must do is pray for dose dat hurt you; pray der judgment will come. He will see to it.”