Albert’s daughter is in a room by herself, a side ward, with a nurse sitting outside her door flipping through a copy of Life magazine. She gets up when she sees us coming, gives Albert a solemn nod before she opens the door.
I gasp out loud when I see that little girl with her mass of white curls tumbling over the pillow. How young she is, how small, makes my knees just about give out. Her ma stands up.
‘Arletta, this is my wife, Brigitte. Brigitte, this here is Arletta, she’s come to see Eveline.’
‘Merci beaucoup, thank you for coming.’
I cover my mouth to keep from screaming. Jackson is holding me up and I lean back on him. I’ve got to be strong. I have my strength. I’ve got to find my strength, she’s just a child and I need my strength for her.
‘Praise God, Albert. He’s going to answer our prayers. Now that God has found another witness, they’ll find him,’ says Brigitte. ‘It’s in His hands.’
‘Ya all right Arletta?’ asks Errol. His steady hand has taken hold of my elbow. I reckon Errol knows better than to be thinking I’m any kind of a sign to be praising God for, but he can see I’m shaking.
I don’t know what I was expecting. I thought her face would be bruised, or cut, or that she was going to have a black eye or something, that there would be some sign of what she’s been through, but there isn’t a mark that I can see on her. She looks like a peaceful sleeping child, her pink cheeks framed with white curls, about as different from myself at her age as it’s possible to get.
I hear Albert moan in his breathing.
‘Eveline’s on morphine,’ the nurse says, ‘so she’s a little drowsy. The doctor is monitoring the pain but she’s coming along now.’
Albert moves next to her bed and runs his fingers through her curls as she stirs. When she opens her eyes they are glazed over, she’s drowsy from the drug.
‘Papa?’
‘Je suis venu te voir, and to sit with you awhile. Me and Jackson. Tu t’en sors très bien, just great, baby.’
Eveline manages half a smile for her pa.
‘This is Arletta. She’s come to see you too. She’s a real good friend of Errol’s. Come and say hello, Arletta. She’s come all the way out here to see you, Eveline.’
Though my legs have turned to jelly, I cross over to her bed without falling over. I want to bawl out loud but I’m going to be strong.
I’ve got my strength.
‘Hello Eveline.’ My voice breaks a little but I’m holding on. ‘I’ve come to see you, and look how you’re doing so fine now.’
Jackson pulls a chair up and I sit. When I take hold of her little hand a voice I know so well whispers close beside me.
‘Ya have ya strength, chile.’
I nearly whisper Nellie’s name out loud, but I stop myself on account of that room being so full of folks. Instead I smile at Eveline’s pretty baby face. She looks like a young version of her ma, like a little blonde angel. Her eyes are deep blue, and the morphine has made her lids heavy, but she manages a faint smile.
‘Bonjour,’ she whispers.
‘We’re going to be strong, you and me. You feel how strong I am? Feel it in my hands? I’m holding you, Eveline.’
She nods.
I just have no idea what to say. I wonder why they wanted me to come, but then I notice my shaking stop. Looking at her and knowing all she’s been through is making me strong. I’m able to keep control of myself and gulp down on the nausea swelling up in my throat. Someone, Errol or Albert, places a firm hand on my shoulder, but I could swear it was Nellie standing right there beside me.
‘You and me, we’re both going to be fine, aren’t we?’
‘Yes.’
I just let the words come.
‘We’re going to help each other because I know he’s a bad man. He got me too, Eveline, and look how I’m doing fine, same as you’re going to be, because we’re both strong. Okay?’
‘Okay.’ She whispers softly and smiles so beautifully. How could anybody hurt this child? A part of me nobody can see is standing behind my strength weeping tears not shed for years.
‘Eveline, that pa you got is just the best I’ve ever seen and he’s going to find him, and we’re going to help him do that. That’s what we’ve gotta do and we’re going to be okay.’
I turn to Albert and whisper. ‘Should I ask her about him?’
‘He was fat, fat like a pig,’ Eveline says softly without being asked at all.
Tears fill up her lovely blue eyes. I wipe them away and raise her soft little hand to kiss it.
‘We’re going to be strong,’ she whispers.
‘He was like that? A fat and smelly man?’ I ask.
‘He was like that.’
‘His hair, what was that like?’ I ask again, since she’s talking.
‘Like mine, but smelly. Maman brushes my hair every day, and at bed-time, so it don’t get tangled up.’
Then I hear it.
Nellie’s voice is low and close by us. I lay my head closer to Eveline and sing along with her. That’s how I really know for sure that Mr Seymour’s been at Eveline.
I never laid down my load, Lord
I never gave Jesus my yoke
And on both sides of the river
Blood fed the roots of oak.
Deliver, deliver, deliver my soul
Rest my head on your pillow
Lord, I never grew old.
Hmmm, hmmm, hmmmmmmm …
Eveline grips my hand tight and speaks softly.
‘She says don’t go in the river.’
‘What?’ She can hear Nellie too?
‘She says don’t go in the river.’
‘You listen to Nellie, Eveline. Don’t go in the river. Stay with Maman and Papa.’
‘What’s her name?’
‘This is Arletta, Eveline,’ Albert says gently.
‘No, Papa, the lady. She has a nice voice.’
‘What lady, bébé?’
I beckon to Albert and say, ‘It’s okay, Albert.’
Then I turn back to Eveline.
‘Nellie, she’s called Nellie, and she’s going to take the best care of you, just like she did with me. You listen to Nellie, listen and stay out of the river. She’s going to say, “Stay with us, child,” and you’re going to listen. Eveline, listen to Nellie.’
‘She’s nice. She’s a real good singer.’ Eveline closes her eyes and I feel her drift. Nellie begins singing her song again and I hum alongside her.
‘Stay, chile, stay.’
Suddenly Eveline stirs and opens her eyes wide.
‘She says she’s going to bring me a little puppy and I can call it Nellie. I’d like a puppy.’
‘I’m going to bring you that brand new puppy called Nellie first thing tomorrow morning. I am.’
Her smile is so beautiful, I’m not thinking about how I’m going to fill that promise, I just know it’s going to find a way of doing that for itself. It’s going to be fine. If Nellie says so, it’s going to get done.
‘Think about all the things you’re going to do with your new puppy. That puppy is going to need looking after, though, so we both need to be strong for that, won’t we?’
‘I’ll be strong if Nellie’s here. Will she stay with me till the puppy comes? I’d like her to stay. She’s nice.’
‘Oh, sure she will. She just asked me if she was able to stay with you all night. To take care of you, along with your maman. Isn’t that funny?’
‘That’s funny.’
‘She looks after folks real good. She looked after me real good when Seymour came and he was never able to come again. Never. Ever. That’s the way it is with Nellie. Real safe. You just got to do exactly like she says. Okay?’
‘She says you must come back. She wants to tell you something.’ Eveline’s voice is weak but her hand is gripping me strong.
‘Arletta and Nellie will both be here when you wake up, first thing,’ says Albert. ‘I’ll be here and we’ll all be toget
her, you, me, Arletta and Nellie, Maman, everybody. It’s going to be fine.’
His voice is breaking up so he stops.
Eveline is looking sleepy. I reach over and kiss her forehead.
‘Get to sleep now, and rest. Get your strength,’ I whisper. ‘Stay with us, don’t go in the river, child. Promise.’
‘Promise. Thank you, Nellie. She’ll tell you tomorrow, she says she’ll tell you something …’
Eveline closes her eyes; the morphine brings sleep.
I tiptoe out and Errol takes my arm. I’m glad I’ve got something to lean on. Albert closes the door to Eveline’s room behind us.
‘Thank you, Arletta. I don’t know what you just did in there, but my little girl doesn’t look so bad,’ he says.
I remind him we’ve got to find a puppy before the morning. I turn round and start walking with Errol close behind me.
‘Who the hell’s Nellie?’ Jackson whispers behind me.
‘Don’t know, Jackson, don’t know,’ Albert replies.
‘Hope this ain’t none of that voodoo shit …’
Errol swings round to face them. Quickest I ever saw him move.
‘Maybe it is and maybe it ain’t, Jackson, but I’m telling ya, I’m thinking that little girl’s gonna make it and I sure as hell didn’t think nothing on the chances of that ’fore now.’
I touch his arm gently because this is not the time to be getting mad.
‘I’m sorry, Miss Arletta,’ says Jackson, ‘I didn’t mean …’
‘It’s all right, Jackson. Let’s go find a puppy and I’m going to tell you who Nellie is.’
I know Eveline is going to make it. They don’t, so I’m not blaming anybody for anything.
Jackson speaks first, once we get back on the road. He knows where we can get a puppy, a little beaut, he says.
‘One of those little lap dogs, a poodle sort of a thing, cute as hell.’
‘Yeah?’ Albert brightens up. ‘Where’s that? Can we get it now? Before tomorrow?’
We follow Jackson’s directions and hang a left out the Old River Road towards the oak grove.
‘You remember that French lady friend of everybody, Albert?’
‘Oh yeah. Hey, yeah, she’s always carrying that little white curly poodle tucked under her arm. C’est beau.’
‘Think they’re completely pointless myself, but I guess we found a use for one of them now.’
I turn in my seat so I can see them all. I want to tell them about Nellie. Jackson apologises, says he feels like a fool after all I’ve been through and what I’m doing for Eveline. He shakes his head like he doesn’t want to be looking me in the eye right now.
‘That’s all right, Jackson. First time I hear Nellie sing happened one day down by Sugarsookie Creek, a little ways from where I was raised. My ma had left me on my own; she knows that was wrong, but these were different times, I guess, and looking back, well, she wasn’t much outta being a kid herself. She was leaving me alone like that all the time, anyways. Mr McIntyre watched for her coming and going so he knew when I was by myself. I’m never going to have kids either.’
Nobody is looking my way.
‘This day, I was hurting, I was bleeding from Mr McIntyre and, well, it just made me cry like the child I was. I was like that more days than I care to remember. There was no other folks living nearby, nobody I could tell. This day it felt so bad, real deep-down bad, so I head off on my own, like I did all the time, missing my Pappy. And then I hear somebody singing the saddest song I ever heard. I thought at first maybe somebody had followed me out there, so I got real scared. But it was Nellie.
‘She told me then just what I told Eveline today, and that made me strong. Every time it happened I’d go talk with Nellie and she always told me what I had to do, and she’d sing her sad song. When it got real bad, when Mr Seymour started coming round, she said she was going to give me a gift. She was going to make me so strong I was going to be able to stop it happening and, I swear to you all, I heard her voice just before I slashed Mr Seymour.’
They stay quiet so I carry on.
‘Well, not only did I save myself, but my ma decided it was about time to start sending me to school. She started worrying about hearing me talking to what she called “an imaginary friend”. Actually, she called it the fresh air, but that’s what she meant. She thought I might be going a bit loopy because I never had any friends, never even saw many folks back then. Living where we were, there was nobody close by, but that’s when my life started to change. Nellie really did give me a gift. Mr McIntyre and Mr Seymour stopped coming and I got to go to school.’
I look at Errol.
‘And I even made me some real friends.’
We’re about halfway up Old River Road. Once upon a time it was the avenue leading to a big old plantation house, but that burned to the ground years ago. Flames never took a hold on the oak trees lining either side of the avenue, so it still looks grand. The first golden orange of evening light is dappling through leaves busting out of their buds.
‘I swear I heard Nellie in that room with Eveline and that isn’t going to do her any harm. That’s just the way it is. And I swear she heard her too. I swear.’
I don’t reckon there’s anybody sitting in that cart going to say any different.
Albert pulls off the Old River Road and stops by what was once the slave quarters and storehouses of the old place. The buildings are all in the way of being fixed up now, housing a forge, a hardware store, a bakery and what looks like a general store, with seamstresses sitting in the windows. They’re starting to clear up for the day. The other side of the road has a lot of construction going on, looks like more new housing is underway.
Albert helps me down from the cart.
‘You’re a good woman, Arletta, and I see what you’re doing for my girl.’
Jackson takes my other hand. ‘We’ll get them.’
That’s the only time I was ever inside of a bordello.
‘Jackson, I ain’t going to ask how you know they got puppies here. I ain’t going to ask.’ Albert shakes his head.
Jackson laughs and reminds him they raided Madame a week ago. He raps on the shutters till a voice comes screaming back.
‘Silence! Arrêtez! Je viens maintenant!’
Tout de suite opens the door.
‘Miss Arletta?’
‘Tout de suite?’
Madame Bonnet comes bustling down the hall, shouting in French.
‘Mon Dieu! Encore? Non, non, non!’
She sure stops dead in her tracks when she sees me.
‘Arletta?’
‘Bon soir, Madame. Je ne sais pas …’
‘Is Maman well? Qu’est-ce que c’est? Petite Rochelle?’
Madame looks about as shocked as Errol, Albert and Jackson. I assure her everybody is fine, that I didn’t know we were coming to see her, or that this was where she lived. I’m stumbling over just what to say when I notice the poodle Jackson meant at Madame’s feet, yapping and making a right noisy fuss. She picks it up and Foufi wags her tail at me, probably about as shocked as everybody else to see me.
Foufi’s puppy is going to be perfect.
‘You know Madame?’ asks Jackson.
‘One time Madame Bonnet taught me French. She’s a friend and … we know each other that way …’
‘Entrez! Vite, vite. What ees going on ’ere?’
Madame pulls me through the door like she doesn’t want anybody seeing me there and orders a bewildered Tout de suite to go tell the girls they must be very quiet.
‘We have the law ’ere again. Vas.’
Tout de suite takes off and Madame invites the rest of us to come in and sit down. I sit on a chair painted a bright red like I’ve never seen. The whole room is that colour, in one shade or another. Drapes, lamps, even the carpet under my feet is dark red and full of big pink roses. Madame smells as nice as ever. I always liked her perfume – she’d give some to Mambo sometimes. It fills the room just li
ke it would fill our cabin, even long after she’d be gone. She’s looking more puzzled than I ever saw anybody about why I’ve turned up with the law, that’s for sure. Jackson, hat twirling between his fingers, speaks first.
‘Madame Bonnet, this is my colleague, my friend. The little girl who was attacked – I’m sure you’ve heard – the little girl who was assaulted … this is her father.’
Madame’s face changes.
‘M’sieur, I am so sorry, so sorry for you, and your family. C’est terrible. How ees l’enfant?’
Albert shakes his head.
‘But why you are here? What can I do? Anything, m’sieur … anything. I do anything for you and your little girl. Maybe you think I know who do this? Arletta, ma chérie?’
‘Madame, you have puppies …’
‘Ah! Oui, je vois … I see, oui, venez. Si l’enfant veut un chiot, a puppy … oui, oui …’
One of these puppies takes to me like it’s been waiting for me to come since it was born so little time ago. It’s a little female pup and it’s licking my face clean.
‘Oui, yes … a little girl, so sweet,’ nods Madame Bonnet. When she nods, more perfume fills the room.
‘Une petite fluffball d’allsorts’ is what she calls the puppy.
‘She have no pedigree. Part poodle we know about, but what part what else? Je ne sais pas. Ees enough to be watching my girls. Watching the dog ees too much.’ She laughs a little. ‘Nobody see anything at all, but then she’s carrying the puppies. Who knows?’ She shrugs.
Jackson asks how much for the pup, but she refuses payment, hoping it brings comfort to the little girl. She thanks Albert for coming to see her, for letting her do something for the poor child. Madame has tears in her eyes, she dabs at them with a sweet-smelling lace handkerchief.
‘Madame Bonnet,’ I begin, ‘please don’t mention I was here to Mam— … my ma, anybody, not yet. Please. I promise I’m going to explain. I promise you.’
‘Of course, ma chérie. Je t’aime. J’espère que tu …’
What the River Washed Away Page 22