I inhaled deeply. Gabe. He’d never seemed so mysterious to me before. It both intrigued and infuriated me. “Gabe isn’t my issue to worry about anymore.”
“Sure, Cat. We’ll see what your fates say.”
We didn’t speak for the rest of the ride as Anna weaved in and out of the narrow, bumpy streets that bridged the path between the Garden District and Uptown. She drove up to a large old house—not quite dilapidated, but not exactly stellar—standing on a forgotten side street between Magazine and Tchoupitoulas. As I stepped from the car the smell of the Mississippi filled my senses; even though I’d lived here my whole life there were times that the atmosphere of the river still felt new.
I let Anna walk in front of me to the door. The jangle of her keys seemed like the only sound in the world.
A young albino girl answered the door. She had the features of a Creole. Her hair exploded with curls in every direction and her eyes were like nothing I’d ever seen. They were a piercing gray-blue interspersed with red fire. Standing in the doorway of that peculiar house, she seemed more than human. Shy, she barely moved from the crack in the door. Anna crouched down and gave her a big smile.
“Hello, Edwina. How are you today?”
The child smiled back and said, softly: “Are you here to see Lady Angelique?”
“Yes, I have an appointment. This is my friend Cat.” Anna motioned toward me. Edwina glared at my feet and then all the way up to my eyes. She held out her hand, so I stepped forward and shook it. A tingling ran up to my shoulder.
Edwina stepped aside and said we could wait in the parlor.
The parlor would have had the feel of a funeral home, if the walls hadn’t been so red. Anna and I sat on a settee that was much older than either of us would ever be. It was red too, and its upholstery was filled with a mixture of scents gone by, like cherry cigars and mint. I turned to look at Anna and was met with the fierce yellow eyes of a taxidermy owl with a wing span that made it seem as if it was going to fly from the wall. I nearly fell out of my seat.
“Isn’t this great?” Anna said.
I scooted away from the owl. “Fantastic.”
We then heard the distant clack of old thick heels against the wooden floor. My body tensed and I instinctually sat upright, like I was a kid in the principal’s office. What am I doing in this crazy bin? I thought. Oh, yeah. It’s the same thing you’re always doing when you find yourself in crazy bins—you’re pleasing Anna and her ‘fates.’ She was so insistent that I come and we had spent so little time together in the last few months, so I agreed. She and Cort had always hated each other, so we hadn’t spent as much time together as we used to. Not by a long shot. I’d missed all her quirky ideas, but most of all I missed the laughing. I hadn’t laughed much since the wedding, and I hadn’t told Anna about the way Cort’d been talking to me. It was the first time I’d ever held a secret from her. It felt good to exist in her weird world, even if it meant being in a place that made me feel like I was trapped in some sort of musty old bottle or a B-grade horror movie.
Even so, my doubts were growing in epic proportions. I enjoyed fanfare or a goofy adventure as much as the next gal, but this house gave me chills without feeling cold. A false sensation of humidity crept across my skin, making me feel moist with sweat. Clack, clack, clack. It was as if the floorboards of the house were seething with heartbeats. The walls were filled without sense, theme or pattern. The pulsing red occasionally gave way to forgotten portraits of nameless, sad people in gold frames infused with dust, or artifacts like pinned specimens of butterflies encased in glass, like they hadn’t flapped their wings for at least 50 years. Anna was totally unfazed by this freak show—this room from hell, the creepy sound of distant, unknown old heels or the uncomfortable sight of Edwina just beyond the room on the second step of a grand old staircase. Edwina was quietly dancing and eerily singing to a faceless misshapen homemade doll that was sewn from rags and patches of discarded fabric with the occasional piece of yarn sprouting from its head in place of hair. The way she handled the doll with this unnamable distant kind of intimacy almost seemed like she was playing with a small sewn version of herself. How can Anna be so relaxed? I wondered. She was so comfortable, she may as well be one of the room’s battered antiques.
I was on the verge of saying let’s get the hell out of here, when the clicks of the heels stopped and were replaced by a thick cloud of herbal smoke. An old woman stood over me. Her hair was wiry, frazzled and stark white, like her skin. Her face, chiseled with lines and wrinkles, looked like porcelain that could crack at any moment. The woman’s most striking feature was her eyes—one a beaming glacial blue and the other so brown and stormy it looked almost black. I found myself wondering if she was real or some sort of creature draped in a velvet purple dress that rose from the floor boards.
“Uh,” I said, for some reason. Wow, Cat. You’re really cool as a cucumber, you know that?
She gently removed the long cigarette holder from her lips and raised her left eyebrow inquisitively before blowing another puff of smoke in my face. It reeked of tea rose and tobacco. I was fixated on her mouth, which was smeared with raging red lipstick drowning its canyon-like cracks. A few stray hairs sprung from her chin, reminding me she was human.
“Don’t dawdle,” she said. She waved her hand to follow and led me toward the great curving staircase, and up the steps past Edwina. I shot a look at Anna over my shoulder as I followed. You owe me, big. All she did was stick out her tongue.
This Lady Angelique was not what I had pictured. I’d envisioned a middle-aged woman with tons of bangle bracelets and big hoop earrings surround by trinkets of the trade. Not this. Clack, clack, clack. I diligently followed her up the stairs, down a curved hall and up more steps again until we reached the third floor. We went into a straight hallway and stopped at the fourth and final door, which was worn and chipped with the remnants of many paint jobs. Mostly, it was brown, drab and ugly.
“Lady Angelique will see you now,” the woman said.
“I thought you were Lady Angelique.”
The woman simply smiled and indicated the door. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to be afraid. Go in. She’ll be there shortly.”
“I’m not afraid.”
She raised her eyebrows again.
“Okay, maybe a little,” I said.
I slowly opened the door and was surprised to find a room glowing in sunlight and filled wall-to-wall with beautifully blooming and abundantly leafy tropical plants that barely left room for the walls. The ceiling was stunning—a mural filled with hues of purple, blue, silver pink and gold, which were blended together to depict scenes of the zodiac and mythologies I did not recognize. The plants and trees left only a small circle in the center of the room, just big enough for a round table with two comfy royal purple arm chairs outlined in gold beading on either end. There were no crystal balls, amulets or any of the other fortune telling tools. I took the seat in the throne with the back facing the door and waited to meet Lady Angelique. I felt like an out-of-place animal in a creepy-ass jungle.
You owe me, Anna. You owe me big time. I could totally be eating a snow-cone right now or burying my face in a bucket of movie popcorn.
Still, there was something cool about the place. Something calming.
Lady Angelique entered the room four minutes later, with a welcoming smile. Her skin was a warm cocoa, flawless like I’d never seen, even more than an airbrushed supermodel. She was tall and slender, but curvy. I couldn’t tell how old she was. She seemed neither young nor old. Her hair was guarded, tightly wrapped in a bright green scarf that matched the green threading of her long linen dress.
“Hello there, Cat,” she said, warmly. Her presence gave me a sense of ease that I had not remembered feeling since I was a kid. She walked over to me and softly placed my hand in hers. Her bright green eyes were lush and full of life. “You have a good spirit. I can feel it. But then, I knew you would.”
She took a deep breat
h and looked around the room, surveying all of her greenery. “I always feel it’s best to have nature as close to you as you can. Don’t you think?” Her accent was strong. Part of it was old Creole, like the kind I had heard in the kitchen of the Blue Note when I was a kid, but it was also mixed with something else I couldn’t quite place. “Put both your hands palms down on the table, my dear.” I did and she followed with her palms and then closed her eyes. I could see her lips moving, but she wasn’t making a sound. Suddenly she sat up with a start, reached under the table and withdrew a plain black box. “Now I do all kinds of readings, Cat, but when you’re dealing with the fates I always think it’s best to see what the cards have to say.”
So there were fortune-telling tools, after all.
She delicately removed the cards from the box. They were wrapped inside a silver and purple scarf. She took great care in removing the cloth, then placed the stack of cards to her left and spread the scarf across the table, patting it down with her long and slender ringed fingers. Once the cloth was completely flat she shuffled the cards—quickly and effortlessly. At times it almost looked like they were a moving rainbow. I was entranced by this alone.
Soon she spilt them in half and set the even piles in front of me. “Now you shuffle,” she said.
I shuffled them clumsily, my thumbs continually getting caught between the cards. Smiling, Lady Angelique said, “Don’t worry, you’re doing fine. It doesn’t matter how you get there, just that you put your spirit in them.”
I wasn’t sure what my spirit was doing, but I was relieved when she finally took them back in a single file.
She closed her eyes again, muttered silently and gave the cards one last quick shuffle before spreading them across the scarf in a perfect crescent.
Lady Angelique had me pick seven cards. They all looked the same until she flipped them over and revealed elaborate pictures filled with stories and brilliant colors like the mural on the ceiling. Some of the images were mystical, others terrifying. She arranged them in the order I picked them in the shape of an unbalanced cross—four across, three vertical. I found myself fixated on the cards, despite myself. One of them bore a picture of a fierce skulled demon and my heart thundered.
“Don’t be afraid,” Lady Angelique said. “Things are not often what they seem, especially when it comes to the cards. Like the one you keep looking at, with the skeleton—that one tells me a baby is on the way, and that’s never bad. The way they come about isn’t always good, but their arrival is. The Death card looks fierce, but all it does is signal a new beginning. I always like it when that old crooked skull is looking at me.” Her smile gave way to full teeth grin revealing perfect and gleaming white teeth.
I swallowed and thought of Cort. His insistence to start a family rang in my ears. I wrapped my arms around my belly. Was I pregnant now? Oh, god. I didn’t want to have a baby yet. Visions of a screaming baby, heavy diaper bags and zero-sleep suddenly danced in my head. I may have come in here a skeptic, but when someone tells you you’re about to have a baby, it’s hard not to quasi-panic. I definitely wanted kids one day, but not now. I wasn’t ready.
I’d been so consumed with the dancing baby nightmare that I hadn’t noticed the other cards. Lady Angelique pointed to one with the image of a strong, leafy tree. It reminded me of the winding oak tree in Audubon Park that the locals called the ‘tree of life.’ “This one right here is the one I am more concerned with, but we will get to that in a minute. You must try not to get distracted by the cards. This spread is chaos, but that’s normal when you are dealing with the fates. It is important to remember that no single card tells the story here. They all must rely on each other to reveal the story. Like the cards, your life is in a state of flux right now and many of the decisions you make at this time will not only greatly affect your life, but also those of the ones around you. I can see in this that you have lived a life of sacrifice. I’m not referring to the Mother Theresa kind, but you have continually sacrificed your heart and your happiness for those of others. The thing that you don’t understand is that when a life is lived that way the outcome often reverts to what one hoped their sacrifice would help overcome. Now, I’m not saying some sacrifices aren’t good, they are, but it’s important to live your true life. You know as well as I do that you don’t have to go far in this town to find miserable people who aren’t living their truth. As much as I love Lady New Orleans, sometimes I think that is part of what keeps this city going.” She shook her head sadly.
She was right. New Orleans was my city and I loved it, but it had an energy that you couldn’t feel anywhere else. It was a sad and tragic energy mixed with lingering memories and an ever-present undercurrent of art, booze and music.
“You are in an interesting position,” she continued. “We all have times when the fates reel their fickle heads. Life is about choice, but the fates are part of that—they come in, shake things up and bring about choices. There are a few people whose experience with the fates are stronger than most. Your dealings with the fates will affect almost all of those around you and right now they are in full swing. I see a baby, but I also see the end of a life in your circle. Both will bring tremendous change.”
A baby, and the end of a life. Oh, god. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. It was almost too much to process.
“What I see in you directly are walls. You are enclosed by many of them. You feel as confused as if you were in a labyrinth, but it will all become clear soon. You have been living in a cloud, torn between two lives. Soon you will be forced to choose a path, because even if you feel like you have already made the choice, you haven’t yet. On the one side I see a dark figure, on the other a lighter. Both are weighted down by secrets. I don’t need to tell you where your heart is, that you already know, but which path you decide and how you take that path will build the framework around you. But like I said, things are not always how they seem or appear. There are some things that may surprise you. Like this card over here.” She pointed to the tree. “This shows me unrest, perhaps even danger. Things will not be easy my dear, chaos never is, but do not be fooled by the calm in the storm, because as soon as everything appears to be settling down, well—that’s when the fire will just be picking up.”
“What about this ‘end of a life’ that you mentioned?” I asked. “Does that mean someone I know is going to die, or is it more of a figurative thing?”
She frowned. “There are some things we cannot avoid and this one of them. The fates can be a marvelous thing when they roll in, but the havoc they cause is trying.” She paused and smiled. “I’d like to give you a blessing if you don’t mind.”
“Sure,” I said, not certain how to reply. My body felt heavy with all she’d said. I could practically feel a baby growing inside me and now I had this ‘end of a life’ business to think about.
You owe me drinks for life, Anna. Drinks for life.
Lady Angelique briefly left the room and retrieved a small bundle of white-grayish dried leaves. “This is sage. It cleanses the air and spirit. I’m going to burn some of this while I say the blessing.” She sparked a large match and the little bundle took the flame quickly. When she blew it out, smoke immediately filled the air. She waved it around me and told me to close my eyes and clear my head. I followed her instructions the best I could and let the sage fill my senses. After a few minutes the smoke subsided and she told me I could open my eyes. She had cast the sage in a small clay bowl to her left. The smoke thinned.
“I have no doubt that you will find your way,” she said, taking my hands in hers. “Just listen to that heart of yours. I’m here if you need me.”
My hands were shaking when she let them go. I fumbled as I tried to open the clasp of my purse. “How much–”
“Nevermind your money,” she said. “Someone else will need your help soon. Save your generosity for them.”
-12-
The second I stepped outside of Lady Angelique’s room and into the hallway my stom
ach turned in knots. The house was chilly. The humming of the air conditioning bounced off the walls, but my skin was hot and nausea dizzied me. I paused to rub my forehead before going down the stairs. I needed to catch my bearings.
Jesus. Maybe I am pregnant, but how could that be?
Edwina told me that Anna was in one of the back rooms, waiting for her own reading. I sent her a text telling her that I was going for a walk and to text me when she was finished.
As soon as I opened the door I was smacked across the face by the hot and heavy Louisiana summer. The humidity swarmed around me so tightly, like a newborn baby swaddled in a fleece blanket. It was grimy, but somehow it felt good; comforting in a way that only someone familiar with the South could understand. I hurried down the front steps and stumbled onto the broken sidewalks of this concrete swamp.
I’d never been on this particular street, but I knew this neighborhood well. Once I took the short walk up to Magazine Street, I would only be a few blocks from the last place Gabe lived before leaving New Orleans. Every week for a year I came here looking. Hoping to find a clue. Praying that he’d come back. The stroll went more quickly than I thought and as I approached Magazine I soon found myself at the door of one of our old haunts. The building was vacated now, but it used to be a little Ethiopian takeout joint. I could still picture Gabe sitting there, drinking his soda and daring me to try different items on the menu, no matter how spicy or mysterious.
I loved this forgotten block. It revealed a glimpse of the city’s past. The old takeout place, a consignment shop, a few broken-down stores that barely passed as antiques shops. An old schoolyard and a beat-up blues bar guarded the corners. I was so relieved when I saw that the consignment store had survived. I remembered the cackling laughter of its eccentric owner, Victoria, who laughed when Gabe and I dressed in some of the shop’s costumes and acted out ridiculous scenes. Victoria was an old actress who always made sure to hold clothes aside for Gabe or find odd jobs for him so he could keep money in his pocket after his mom took off.
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