Twisted Oak: A Sexual Odyssey

by Blanche, Neige

  “And Collette?”

  “Nezzie, Collette wasn’t honest with me or herself. If she had told me she was in such pain, if she had told me she was in over her head, I’d have helped her. I should’ve known. I should’ve saved her.” The tears came flooding again. “I couldn’t save her. Nezzie, she faced her demons and they won.”

  I admired Mr. Delacroix; even though he feared the demons, he would not abandon Ty. He could have become addicted as my mother had, but he was not a coward like her.

  “My lord,” I said as I took him in my arms, “I’m here now and I promise you, your demons will not win.”

  19.

  We undressed in silence and lay in bed as darkness filled the world. Mr. Delacroix curled up next to me with his back against my chest. I imagined Sunny smiling at a customer in his bar, cocktail shaker in hand. I understood how he could want to walk away from this and start anew, but was pleased he’d changed his mind. I did not think I could handle Mr. Delacroix on my own.

  Ty was the missing puzzle piece. Mr. Delacroix’s spirit yearned to be free, but without Ty, it would never happen.

  “My lord, I have to get up for a while. Is that okay?”

  “Nezzie, don’t leave the apartment. I can’t be alone now.”

  “I’ll be right outside on the balcony, my sweet man. I won’t leave you.”

  “Nezzie, I—” he stammered.

  I waited for him to say it. I longed for him to say it.

  “Nezzie, thank you.”

  Disappointment. “You’re welcome, my lord.” I kissed him and he returned the kiss sweetly, with meaning.

  I slipped out of the bed and put my gossamer nightdress on without bothering with the robe. I took Monique’s journal with me. The lights were off, so the apartment was dark. The Tiffany lamp gave a warm glow to the dreary atmosphere.

  Out on the balcony, I called Sunny at the bar.

  “Miss Nez, everything okay?” A hint of alarm in his voice because I never called him at work.

  “Yeah, yeah, I think so. Just the blues set in with Mr. Delacroix is all. You know how that goes,” I said, trying to downplay it. The music was very loud in the background and I wondered how well he could hear me.

  “Need me to come home?” he said.

  “No, we’re okay. Is Ty around?” I held the journal close to my heart in hopes it would steady my nerves.

  “Let me check. Hang on.” He set the receiver on the bar and I could hear him holler, “Anybody seen Ty?” I heard a woman laugh and a man was talking. Somebody yelled, “Tyrone, your momma’s callin’!” More laughter.

  “Miss Nez, he was here awhile back, but he left. I can send him a message if you want.”

  “That would be great. Please, Sunny, tell him to come here to the apartment as soon as he can. Just to see me, not Mr. Delacroix.”

  “Miss Nez, do I need to come home?”

  “No, Sunny. I’m telling you. Stay the fuck there.” My grasp on the journal tightened.

  “Yes, ma’am, I’ll send him a message right away.”

  I heard a customer yell, “Hey, Sunny, we’re dying of thirst here.”

  “Call me if you have to,” Sunny said, and hung up the phone.

  I went to the kitchen and poured a glass of chilled water from a pitcher we kept in the fridge. Back outside on the balcony, the moon rose across the square and I thought about how beautiful it must be along the river and how lucky the rodents and roaches were to have such a sight. Ty’s voice rang in my head: They be part of the family down here. How could I have ever known that night the depth to which Ty would change my life? I wondered if Ty understood how much he had changed us all. I settled under the balcony light to read.

  April 3, 1768: A man came to visit today from New Orleans and he tells us that a young boy is alone because his family succumbed to yellow fever. This man was someone I had never met, but he and Jean-Pierre know one another well . . .

  The young man is Creole, that mixed heritage that expresses itself with such biological artistry. The boy is alluring and dreadfully enigmatic. He draws me in with his presence and makes something inside me stir. Jean-Pierre's associate guarantees his health, but the boy is so slight, I cannot imagine he would be any use on the farm. I reluctantly acquiesced, as I always do with Jean-Pierre, when he suggested we take the boy into our home as a domestic servant.

  May 1, 1768: Today Jean-Pierre presented the Creole boy to me as a gift. “To do with as you please as long as you're in my presence,” he said, as a reward for my loyalty. “He is yours, Monique, for your pleasure and mine.” I hadn't seen the boy since the day he came those weeks ago and I was astonished at how refined and polished he presented from stem to stern, skin smooth like creamed coffee. His shirtless form was resplendent in silken trousers. When I asked the young man his name, he said he hadn't one, that he would only answer to the name I give him. When I asked him what he thought I should do with him, he knelt before me and said that my pleasure is why he lives.

  The familiar lope of Ty’s gait awakened me from my contemplation. He was gorgeous under the lamplight of the square, and graceful, too. He did not appear to weigh an ounce when he walked. He looked up and waved and I smiled down at him and waved back. When he was near the gate, I went inside and pressed the button on the wall next to the balcony door. Moments later, the familiar knock, knock, knock, knock, knock . . . knock, knock.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked as he entered the dining area. “Sunny about give me a fit tellin’ me you needin’ me right away and then you tellin’ him he can’t come.”

  “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t screw you up with work,” I whispered. “Na-na, it’s okay. Sunny say he cover it. What’s a matter, why we whisperin’?”

  “Mr. Delacroix’s resting. We’ve had quite a night and I need to talk to you just between us, nobody else. Ty, can I trust you?”

  “Miss Nez, if you can’t trust me, you can’t be trustin’ nobody.”

  “You need something to drink?”

  “Thank you, Miss Nez, that glass of cole watah you got look mighty fine.” We went through the kitchen and I poured him a glass before we quietly made our way out to the balcony. He balked when he saw the bourbon sitting out.

  “Ty, I don’t know how else to start except to start, so here it is,” I said.

  He flinched and coiled away from me defensively.

  “I’ll never hurt you. Not ever, do you hear me?”

  “Don’t you ever be lettin’ dat man drink no whiskey and don’t you ever be doin’ it neither,” he said, his eyes darting. I feared he might jump off the balcony, so I put my hand on his arm to steady him, but I startled him instead.

  “I didn’t have any and I never will if that’s your wish, Ty. I’ll do anything for you, you have to know that. Do you trust me? Don’t leave me now, please!”

  “Okay, Miss Nez, I trust you and I ain’t leavin’, but don’t be touchin’ dat shit. Did he drink it an’ hurt you?” He looked at my face, arms, and legs to make sure.

  “No,” I answered. He relaxed and I let my hand fall to the table. “I know what happened the night you met Mr. Delacroix.”

  “Miss Nez, I’m not knowin’ how it is you know all dis.”

  “Mr. Delacroix told me.”

  “He did?” Ty’s eyes widened in disbelief.

  “It’s okay. He knows you and I are having this conversation. He doesn’t necessarily know exactly what I’m gonna say, but he knows you and I are speaking about it.”

  “And what he have to say? That I lured him in and that I like it?”

  “Not at all, and I refuse to make excuses for what he did. He didn’t make excuses either. As you said to me, it was a dark time for him.”

  “Yeah, well, he like to kill me. Miss Nezzie, it go on for days. He don’t let me eat and only let me have watah and use the toilet. I di
dn’t know what to do, so I just prayed to live and I bent to his will as best I could.” His eyes clouded over, but not a teardrop fell.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was so bad.” A cold wave of fear entered the recesses of my heart. Mr. Delacroix had not been as honest with me as I thought.

  “I knows the whiskey had him, so I figure my only way out was to agree with him, if you know what I mean, till he come out the other end of it. My worst fear was that he die of it and leave me tied there to suffer and die of thirst alone wit’ nobody knowin’. Fuck, cher, this the wors’ thing ever to happen to me, even worse than before wit’ my family. I know they never kill me, only beat me, but Mr. Delacroix, he had no idea what he do. He beat my body most completely.” Hysterics danced around his voice.

  “Ty . . .”

  “Miss Nez, why you bring dis up? Why you wanna bring in da hurt and shame like dis? Nobody wanna go there, not me, not Mr. Delacroix. Sunny don’t know and he ain’t needin’ to. What the fuck ya tryin’ ta do?”

  The anger in his voice was palpable. I saw another side of Ty, the side that was not kind, the side of him that reminded me that he was, indeed, a whore.

  “I stayed with him to take care of him because he begged me to stay. Begged me like a bum. So I figure if I was good to him, maybe I get something. I figured if I was good, he would let me be, and when he was so sorry he bought me my house and gave me money, I figure I’d stick around for more. I gotta confess, my plan was to get as much money out of that asshole as I could. I figure I earned it that night. You think it was easy? If dat fucker didn’t pay, I’d tell the world what he did and he knew it. And then came Sunny. Dat boy stole my heart and so I stay around. The money don’t matter no more. I get more than I need. What the hell, Miss Nez, why you bring dis up now?”

  “Let me try and explain. This only came up because I asked him about Mr. and Mrs. Scott and we were talking about what it was like for him when he came here. I didn’t ask him to tell me, he just did. I told him how I miss you all the time when you aren’t here and how much Sunny and I want you to come to Twisted Oak with us, not like you are now, but to sign on totally with Sunny. To belong, Ty, to Sunny, to me . . .”

  Ty interrupted. “An’ Mr. Delacroix, too. Fuck, Miss Nez, you know what you askin’? Aw, hell, yes, you do, you know. He tell ya. Think about whatchyoo sayin’.”

  “Ty, he’s scared of you, ya know.”

  “Oh, I bet his ass is fucking scared to damned death considering I coulda had him locked away after his crimes against me. You don’t know, Miss Nez. You don’t know what it was like.”

  “I know, Ty.”

  “You don’t! He treat you like some princess and Collette, too, but me? Hell no, he only abuse me. Sunny’s his golden boy, and I just a whippin’ post. But I got leverage. I bring you here because I thought Sunny would help you. I never dreamed you was so fucked up. I wasn’t thinkin’, I guess, other than Sunny could help. I never intended to get you hooked up with Mr. Delacroix. I wanted to tell you that first night after you woke up to leave, but I wasn’t thinkin’ you was well enough. I shoulda told ya. I messed up, but don’t worry. I call him out if he try anything. I got your back, cher. Don’t you worry. I got your fuckin’ back.”

  “Ty, he’s changed.”

  “Yeah, well, you jus tell dat to Miss Collette, now, ya heah? She dead, Miss Nez, dead as a fuckin’ doornail.” He got up and began to pace the balcony. “I’m sorry I brought you here.”

  “Ty, please don’t leave. Hear me out.”

  “Yeah, I hear you.”

  “You changed him. He told me tonight that he owes you his life. That’s why he’s so scared of you; something you said that night.”

  “Oh, what I say? I beg him not to kill me? He like that.”

  “You don’t remember, do you?”

  “Hell yes, I recall he about kill me.” Angry tears full of rage and fear finally came. “Miss Nezzie . . .”

  I interrupted. “You told him that he has demons and that the only way he would be rid of them is to look them in the eye. Then you told him that if he must beat you to death to face them, to keep beating you, and you reminded him to never forget that it was you who made him face those demons.”

  I grabbed Ty’s shoulders and spun him around to face me. He was light as air. “Listen to me, don’t you see what you did? You offered to sacrifice your life to save him. He sees you as his savior. That’s the exact word he used tonight, he called you his savior. Then you stayed with him and helped him dry out. He said he owes you everything.”

  “Then why he hate me so?” Ty asked as he sat down. “Why dat boy hate me so much? I don’t hate him even though I should. I can’t hate him. I can’t hate nobody. Hate don’t come to my heart like it do some folk.”

  “He fears you. He doesn’t hate you. In fact, I think he loves you, but he’s scared because he couldn’t look his demons in the eye and make them go away. He’s afraid he’ll end up like his mom and Collette. Your words made you the symbol, the representation of the thing that scares him the most. You were so right that night and he was so fucking wrong.”

  “I don’t recall sayin’ those things to him, miss.”

  “I don’t think you realize how much the things you say mean.”

  “I just say things as they come, Miss Nez. Ain’t no thinkin’ involved.”

  “You don’t have to think about it because you speak straight from your heart, true and free. From the moment I met you, I knew you were special. I love you. We all do.” My eyes ached with tears about to come.

  “Miss Nez, ain’t nothin’ special wit’ me.” He sat back, relaxed now. “Can’t change the past, can we?”

  “Nope, we sure can’t.”

  “Sometime the truth, it hurt so bad it make us wanna die,” he said through trembling lips.

  “I know. And for those of us brave enough to tell it, well, my friend, sometimes we get the whippin’.” I placed my hand on his thigh, which was in constant motion.

  “Now ain’t that the god’s honest truth.”

  A few minutes passed and someone in the shadows of the iron fence in the square whistled, “Hey, Tyrone, you got business.”

  “I got to go, Miss Nez,” he said as he got up from the chair. I glimpsed a brief moment of Ty looking his age as he traveled under the balcony light; not a boy, but a young man on a mission.

  “What’re you gonna do?” I pleaded.

  “Well, cher, tonight I’m gonna roll around in a mountain of blow until I can’t feel a fuckin’ thang. And then tomorrow I’m comin’ home where I belong, right here wit’ you and Sunny. We all gots our demons and we needs each other to fight ’em off.”

  Ty’s remark nudged at my demons. I had not thought of cocaine in weeks. The craving was brief, stabbing, and caught me off guard, but the high I experienced with cocaine paled in comparison to the high I received from my lord.

  Ty didn’t wait for me to show him out, but rather took his time leaving the apartment, like a man who knew his way.

  20.

  The bedroom was dark when I entered save for a streetlamp giving light through the open window. I went to close the shutters when Mr. Delacroix’s voice gently brought me out of myself. “Nez, is that you?”

  “Yes, my lord, it’s me,” I said in a whisper. “Are you feeling better?”

  “Why are your clothes on?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I’ve only just now come back in. The light was shining, so I thought you’d like me to close the shutters.”

  “Nez, when you come into our bedroom, the very first thing you do is remove your clothes, no matter what you’re up to.” His voice sharpened just enough to make my heart rate go up and my nether regions tingle.

  “Yes, sir,” I said, and I slipped the nightdress over my head.

  “That’s better,” he said as he leaned o
ver to turn on the lamp. “Now close the shutters.”

  “Yes, sir.” I went about closing the shutters while his eyes followed my every move in steely silence.

  “I think it’s time you show me your willingness. It occurs to me that you’re ready.”

  “Ready, sir?”

  “Come lay down on your back.”

  I followed his commands and lay down on the middle of the bed. I was excited, nervous, and anxious all at once. My heart raced. My nipples were erect. I shivered as if it were freezing when in reality it was a warm spring night.

  “Good girl,” he smiled. “You’re so impeccable at this moment.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Thoughts of Ty’s story kept knocking at the backdoor of my brain, but I kept them at bay knowing that Sunny would be home soon, that it could never be like that with Sunny here. I needed to trust Mr. Delacroix.

  He came to me with thick silken ropes in his hands and straddled me. His penis, only half aroused, lay on my tummy and his knees sunk into the mattress. His weight held me down. Silently he took my left hand, tied it securely to the headboard, and kissed it gently. Then he came down and kissed my mouth fully and for a long time, dampness seeping into my crotch. He took my right hand, secured it to the headboard, and kissed it. I remembered Sunny the night I watched them have sex and panic began to set in. He sensed it.

  “See how smart you are? You already know what’s in store, don’t you?”

  “I think so, my lord.” I had butterflies in my stomach.

  “Nez, if you insist on overthinking things, you’ll suffer more.” He shrugged. “I guess if that’s how you want it, fine by me. I love your suffering and you do it so sweetly.” He kneeled next to me on the bed, licked my left hip, and then ran his tongue down the inside of my left thigh, calf, and ankle. My nether regions lit with excitement. He began tying one of his special knots around my ankle.

  “You could be enjoying this; in fact, you should be, but you choose to overthink it, so your suffering is by choice. You choose it, no one else. You do it to yourself.”