Southern Secrets

by Shelley Stringer

  Then Banton cleared his throat and changed the subject. “Um, Andie, I’m going to meet the SEALs at the base in N’awlins in a couple of hours. They wanted to meet with us earlier than we thought, so I’ll be late. Everett and Mr. Philippe are going to stay here with you and Constance until we get back. I want you to rest and take it easy.” He rubbed Beau’s ears as the pup came back into the room to greet him.

  “Promise. I’ll be good.” I leaned up to kiss his lips as he rose from the couch.

  “I’ll have Ty back before bedtime, and we’ll talk then.” He glanced at Everett and Everett nodded at him. Then he bent to kiss the top of my head, placed his hand on Constance’s shoulder, and he was out the door. A feeling of sadness overwhelmed me, for I knew our honeymoon was officially over. Watching a veil of pity cross Constance’s face, I resigned myself to suck it up and be a big girl. Pity was the last reaction I wanted right now.

  “Well, all right then. What shall we do to entertain ourselves?” Everett asked as he turned to Constance and me.

  “Well, why don’t you let Everett carry you upstairs, and then we’ll unpack your clothes while you tell me about these dreams of yours.” She glared at me, apparently agitated I’d been keeping another secret from her.

  “Oh. How did you know?”

  “I’m an excellent eavesdropper, and with the two creepy vampire doctors around here yesterday, I overheard more than I bargained for,” she retorted, gathering my smaller bags up and heading for the staircase. Everett picked me up from the sofa, kissing my cheek as he carried me up after her.

  As we reached the top of the landing, she whirled and asked, “And by the way, why do I smell your mother’s perfume every time I see the little sunny glare on the staircase?” She nodded back down the stairs at the mist at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Um…well, I think, well, I know, actually…” I began.

  “It’s your mother, right? It’s Aunt Kelly.”

  “Yes. I think it is,” I replied softly. She watched me several seconds as her own eyes filled with tears.

  Then she took a deep breath, and reacted in Constance mode again. “Well, if I’ve been introduced to vampires, then I might as well believe in ghosts as well!” She stomped into my room.

  “Aldon, Darlin’. We’re Aldon, not vampires…” Everett corrected, in his feminine soft voice. I giggled at him as usual.

  As Everett unpacked my bags and put everything away, I explained my dreams to the best of my ability to Constance. Her eyes widened at my graphic description of every attack, and then she demanded to see the newest bruises. When I pulled the flannel pants down she sucked in her breath quickly, but said nothing. Tears gathered in her eyes as she pulled me in close to her.

  “I’ve already begun some research on line, after I heard the doctors talking yesterday. I tagged some websites on my laptop; I’ll go and get it for you.” She hurried from the room, and then returned with my computer. Flopping down on the bed, she flipped it open and began searching. As Everett continued to tidy my room and move about, he was clearly listening.

  “Here. This one caught my interest. Now that you’ve described your dreams to me, this one makes sense. It’s about voodoo and dreams. You said this vampire or Orco, or whatever he is, is always in your dreams.”

  “Yes.” I answered warily.

  “And he’s dead. The only other people in your dreams are random, or your unborn child, or your mom and dad. Your mom and dad are dead, too.” Constance stated emphatically.

  “What is your point?” I asked her.

  “There is never anyone living in your dreams. Never me, or Everett, or Banton…Don’t you think that’s a little strange?” She glanced up at me and then she continued searching.

  I hadn’t thought about it. “Once Ava was in my dream, but she quickly turned into my child. She’s the only one who’s ever been there.” I chewed on the inside of my lip as I turned this new twist of information over in my mind.

  “There is some stuff here about charms. It says there are things the living can do to enter someone’s troubled dreams, but I don’t know what they mean. Do you know anyone who might be able to make some sense of it?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. There was a woman in a shop in N’awlins who seemed to know an awful lot about what’s going on.”

  “Bebe, why don’t you call your little neighbor, Mr. Jackson. He’s the one who started you on the whole voodoo quest in the beginning. He seemed to know an awful lot about this house. Maybe you might start with him,” Everett added as he came back across the room.

  “Good idea. I’ll go down this afternoon…”

  “Um, noooo. You’re not going anywhere, Bebe. Constance or I can fetch him. We’ll bring him to you. And we’ll ask him to supper, I know you’re fond of him. Would that be all right?”

  “That would be great, thanks Ev.” I smiled at him, my mood lighter. Mr. Jackson was always a delight.

  “Now, let’s get you to take a nap for those babies, and when you wake, we’ll all go downstairs. Philippe and I will cook supper tonight.” Everett plopped down on the bed beside me, and pulled me in to his side.

  “Babies?” Constance asked, with one eyebrow cocked at me. “What does he mean, Babies? More secrets you’ve kept from me?” She glared at me.

  “Sorry. I was just about to tell you, we’re having twins.”

  “Sweet Jesus, I think you’ll make Mama faint and Daddy curse a blue streak. Got to be around for that one,” she quipped as she kissed my cheek. Everett chuckled as she continued to click away on the keys of the laptop. I drifted off to sleep in a peaceful dream.

  Chapter Eight

  A couple of hours later, Everett shook me awake.

  “Andie…Bebe, the pharmacy just delivered some new prescriptions for you to take. And Philippe has dinner ready, Constance is gone to see if Mr. Jackson can come and eat with us. How do you feel?” He slid his hand across my cheek as I pushed myself upright on the pillows.

  “I feel good, and hungry. What’s for dinner?” I asked, smiling at him. Beau pushed the door open and trotted over to place his head on the bed as Everett straightened the covers and pillows.

  “Chicken fried steak and gravy, fried okra and black-eyed peas. We need to get some meat on those bones, sister. There’s no way you’re giving birth to two babies as tiny as you are. Besides, I thought some soul-food might do us all some good. Come on Beau, let’s get her downstairs.” Everett always talked to Beau as if he was carrying on a constant conversation with him.

  He picked me up and hurried down the stairs with me, placing me at the dining table I was amazed how easily he carried me – he wasn’t much taller than I, and didn’t outweigh me by more than seventy pounds or so. I kept forgetting how much stronger he was than the average human, and he made everything seem so easy.

  “Here we go. We need cornbread with all this southern comfort food.” Everett placed a large basket of cornbread sticks on the table in front of me. He had the table set, and bowls of gravy, potatoes and vegetables steamed from the center of the table.

  “Where is Mr. Philippe?” I asked as he came back into the room again.

  “He went to take care of something at the store. He’ll be back before dark.”

  “Mmm. Smells good.” I gave him a high-five as he rounded the table to sit next to me.

  “We’re back!” Constance called from the foyer as the front door opened and closed. Moments later, Mr. Jackson shuffled around the corner into the dining room.

  “It sho smells good, Mrs. Chandler. Thank you for invitin’ dis ole man to supper. Dis sho is a treat!” He grinned his wide, toothy grin and patted me on the shoulder.

  “Mr. Jackson, you remember Everett Samuels. You two met the day we found Ava Grace. And you’ve already met Constance.”

  “Yessum, and we all got acquainted at yo weddin party, we sho did. It’s good to see you all again.”

  “Have a seat, Mr. Jackson. We were just about to dig in.” I folded
a napkin in my lap as Mr. Jackson cleared his throat.

  “Um, Mrs. Chandler, can we say grace afore we git started?” the old gentleman asked.

  Embarrassed we had to be reminded, I answered “Certainly.” I cleared my throat, about to begin, when Everett broke in.

  “Bless us, O Lord, and these gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen”

  “Amen,” we all said together as we raised our heads. I looked curiously at Everett; the subject of religion had never come up. Another conversation I filed away for the future.

  “I ain’t tasted such good food since my po mamma passed. My wife, she could cook a little, but not like my mamma. Dis here fried okras, it be almost as good as hers.” He smiled as he took another bite.

  “Do you cook much for yourself?” I asked.

  “A little. I fries me some catfish, now and agin, when I get de cravin fo it. Nothin like fried catfish!”

  “Amen,” Everett commented, pouring gravy over his mashed potatoes and steak.

  “So, how was dat honeymoon, you sho is back quick.” Mr. Jackson took a piece of the cornbread Constance offered to him.

  “It was wonderful, but short. We had some unexpected visitors, and for safety reasons, had to return to Louisiana. Banton and the other SEALs had to return to base,” I sighed, wondering how long before he would return.

  “I was afeared of dat. Dem Loogaroo, dey won’t let you all rest, is I right?” He looked over at me as I passed the platter of chicken-fried steak.

  “How did you know?” I asked curiously.

  “Like I says before, Dey is gunnin for you, and yo men folk. Dey know dat you all is a threat. Dey’s still around, I can feel dem at night.” He shook a warning finger at me.

  “Mr. Jackson, do you know anything about Tariqs?” I asked quietly.

  “Um, I don’t rightly know what you mean, Mrs. Chandler.” He stared at me curiously.

  “Night visitors in your dreams. Have you ever heard of someone who has passed on, being able to contact you, to hurt you in your dreams?” I asked him slowly.

  “Not for a long time. But I sho have heard de old folks talk about dem evil ones, a-coming back in dreams. Why do you be askin?”

  “Because I have one attacking me in my dreams. We need to know how to stop him.” My eyes teared up as I admitted out loud the outrageous phenomenon occurring.

  “Oh, Mrs. Chandler,” his voice shook with sympathy. “I don’t know, it’s been so long since I heared dem stories. I remembers something about charms you could use, maybe de brick dust around de doors…lavender and de sage…Does you know who it be?” he asked me softly.

  “Yes. He’s the Loogaroo who kidnapped me, and held me…Banton killed him, but not before…he bit me.” I pulled my sweater back, and showed him the bite.

  “Oh, Holy Mary,” He crossed himself as his eyes widened in fear. He pushed his chair back, almost spilling himself onto the floor.

  “It’s all right, Mr. Jackson,” Constance assured him, grabbing his hand to hold it. “She’s not one of them.”

  “How…how can dat be?” he asked warily.

  “It’s complicated, but there are some people such as Chandler, who carry a genetic code which blocks transformation. It keeps them from turning. She has the strength, and longer life, but won’t change,” Everett simplified the explanation.

  “I’s heard of dat, but never did see it. You is what dey old ones called Sange Mele.

  “What did you call it?” I asked curiously.

  “It means mixed blood, or more than one race. It’s an old Creole term,” Everett explained.

  Mr. Jackson nodded as he continued “You needs the help of dem beloved, more than ever. De evil one, he seeks you out now, ‘cause he didn’t kills you. Yo loved ones what has passed on, dey will helps you now.”

  “How? I know you’re aware of the spirits in my house. My mother,” I almost whispered to him. “How can she help?”

  “I knows she can. You just have to asks for her help now. Her, and de others dat are wid her here. You pray to de Saints and to de Almighty. Asks for yo beloved’s help. De answer will come, surely. And I’ll sho do what I can to help you.” Mr. Jackson smiled timidly at me, still wary of me in light of this new-found information.

  “I’m sorry I frightened you, Mr. Jackson. I just thought you might be able to help, you know so much more about all of this than the rest of us.”

  “Missy, I do what I can. I gots some old friends what might be able to remember more than dis old man can. I’ll do some visitin’, and I’ll call round on you for a front-porch sit. We’ll see what we can do.”

  “Mr. Jackson, I found a website on the computer that talks about charms and things the living can do to enter someone’s dreams, but it didn’t make much sense to me. Could you take a look at it?” Constance asked him.

  “I don’t know ‘bout no computers, but if you write it down maybe I can helps you some. You bring it down to me ‘round tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Jackson. Thank you for everything.” I leaned across the table and patted his hand.

  “Well, I guess I’d best be a-going afore it gits dark. Don’t want to be out with all dem dead ones about.” He stood, and turned as he went through the door. “It sho was good cookin, Mr. Everett, I sho do appreciate de supper. Mrs. Chandler, Miss Constance, you all take care.”

  After Mr. Jackson left, the three of us were silent. Everett carried me into the living room, and I searched for a while on my laptop as he and Constance cleaned up the kitchen. I found the website Constance tagged, with references to old voodoo ceremonies, superstitions and charms to remove curses. Nothing seemed to fit what we were dealing with, but I was willing to try anything.

  “Well, Bebe, what have you found for us?” Everett asked, flitting back into the living room with Constance close behind.

  “Not much.” I shut the laptop. “But I do have some questions for you.”

  “Oh?” He plopped down on the sofa beside me. Constance sat on the sofa opposite us, leaning over to rub Beau’s ears.

  “Um, I guess this is a little personal…” I began.

  “We’re passed all that, aren’t we Cherie?” He smiled at me as he pulled me into his side.

  “Well, I guess we should be. I was wondering, about your religion …I mean, you’re an Aldon, a vampire, of sorts…”

  “And I was also raised a Catholic. What is your point?” he asked as his eyebrows rose.

  I glanced over at Constance, and I could tell she was uneasy about where this conversation was going.

  “What? Did you think I wouldn’t have a soul, because of the un-dead misnomer? That’s Hollywood, dear. I believe in the almighty, and he created all creatures. All creatures,” he stated emphatically.

  “I’m sorry Everett.” I felt the blood pool in my cheeks in a deep blush.

  “It’s perfectly fine, Bebe. What else did you want to ask?”

  I glanced over at Constance, who focused her attention on Beau, playing with his ears again.

  “I wondered about the blood too. I never see you consume it, only human food…” I trailed off.

  “It’s not as if I’m going to come bopping in with my blood shake and rare meat fries! I eat what I need, in private,” he stated, matter-of-factly.

  “Where do you get it?” I asked, after several awkward moments.

  “I have a friend who is a butcher,” he quipped, and then hugged me. “Anything else?”

  “No, I think she’s about covered everything that can make us uncomfortable this evening!” Constance added as she glared at me. Everett laughed.

  “Don’t get mad at her, Darlin. I’m used to it. Her little brain never shuts down, ever. It’s part of why I love her so.” He kissed my cheek, and then rose from the sofa. “So, now you’re back, I think I’ll camp out down here with Mr. Philippe. Ty and Constance will be cozy in Banton’s old room,” he commented as he grinned devilishly at her.

/>   “Well, let’s hope – I think he’s afraid to be alone with me!” Constance complained as she grabbed my laptop and flipped it open.

  Everett started up the stairs and Beau followed closely behind him. Abruptly, I remembered the other question I had for him.

  “Everett?”

  “Yes, Darlin?” He stopped, and turned on the stairs.

  “How come Beau always reacted to the Orcos around the house, but never growled at you or Mr. Philippe, even the first time you came to the house?”

  “Uh-hum,” Constance cleared her throat, and glared at me again.

  “Well, let’s see.” He looked down at Beau, and Beau wagged his tail. Then he stared at Beau until the green glare fairly leaped out of his eyes and his fangs began to show. Beau started to growl and back down the stairs, visibly shaken.

  “Holy shit!” Constance exclaimed. Everett immediately softened his eyes and the fangs disappeared. He made a smooching sound to Beau, and motioned for him to come back to him. Beau hesitantly moved back up the stairs, and approached him cautiously, sniffing his hand as his tail began to wag again.

  “It’s hard to explain, I had to demonstrate.” Everett pranced back up the stairs, with Beau close behind again.

  “It’s almost too much to take in.” Constance shook as she looked at me over the laptop screen. “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up from this whole mess and think, crap, what a dream…”

  “No kidding. I have that feeling every day.” I smiled at her wryly. “So what are you looking for now?”

  “Book websites. You have one of those electronic book readers, right?”

  “Yes, why?” I asked.

  “Download this book. It’s about dreams, what they mean, and how to control them.” She looked back at me, and I shot her an incredulous look.