Black Bayou

by Beverly Sims

  Eartha stood, moving to the side of the elderly woman. “Please let me help, too.” Mrs. Atwater just shook her head ‘no’ and patted Eartha's hand before taking Glenda's arm and exiting the room. They watched through the open door as the pair moved gingerly up the stairs, each holding onto the one banister, until they were out of sight.

  Eartha resumed her seat and helped herself to another of the pastries on the plate. “Like she said, supper is at eight, and these are simply beyond wonderful. No point in leaving them to dry out and go to waste."

  Windy, a child of the desert, commented, “How could anything dry out in this humidity?” She helped herself to one of the cream-filled cakes. “But it appears none of our questions are going to be answered now, so let's have a look around. It may not be so bad after all.” She turned toward the door and let out a cry of surprise.

  "Sorry, ma'am, I dun mean ta scair you. Mrs. Woodward dun tell me to fetch yur bags and put ‘em in yur rooms.” He was tall, taller even than Eartha, but much lighter in color. He was soft spoken, and later they found he walked with a limp. His hair lay like a mat on his head, which seemed larger than it should have been. He was careful to keep his eyes on the ground and not meet their gazes or look at them directly.

  "You didn't frighten me, just gave me a start. I didn't know you were there. What is your name? And yes, we will show you where the luggage is.” Windy moved forward, offering her hand, but he turned and walked toward the front door. “Well, so much for Southern gentlemen!"

  Ellen whispered her comment. “Windy, he is not a Southern gentleman. He is a black man who works here, and he does not consider it proper to touch a lady, even in a handshake. I suspect he might be a bit slow and has probably lived here his entire life. So, let's point out the luggage and then look around. Besides, there are four goodies left ... sure can't leave them."

  Once out at the vehicles, they unlocked the trailers and set their suitcases and bags on the bottom step. Ellen let out a scream as a large black snake slid through the tall grass in front of her. She began to shake and roll her eyes up into her head. Marybeth shook her hard until Ellen recovered sufficiently to run up the stairs and stand on the porch, one hand over her mouth, the other on her chest. The man muttered, “Rat snake. Hurt nobody.” He picked up as much luggage he could carry and went up the stairs without another word, passing Ellen as if she were not there.

  Ellen was embarrassed. She shrugged, trying to regain her composure as she joined the others. “Whatever! I swear I smell chlorine. Maybe there is a swimming pool and a place to suntan, although if I have so much as a freckle or tan line, my lilywhite body will be a disappointment to my future husband, according to my mother. All ladies must shun the sun, wear sunscreen and bonnets, and keep themselves covered always. Heaven forbid that any of them see my bikini or my bikini lines."

  They all laughed as they walked to the back of the house on an overgrown pathway. Once roses, camellias, bougainvillea, and jasmine had shown the way, but now they were just poor substitutes for their original splendor, like everything else seemed to be on the plantation. “Wow, Chazam, Woo-Woo, and I'll be damned,” was Marybeth's favorite way of expressing her pleasure. A new boyfriend, a night on the town, a fat check from Daddy all met with that expression, but then again so did dismay, anger, and any other emotion she felt. How she spoke the words was more important than the words themselves. This time, it was to convey her delight at what she saw.

  Before them was an Olympic-sized pool with diving boards, floating lounge chairs, cabanas, discolored marble fountains, and chipped statuary. The water was crystal clear, and towels lay folded on benches near the back door of the house. “I for one must avoid tan lines, and the best way I know how to do that is swim naked,” said Ellen as she stripped off her shorts and modest blouse. Her clothes made a path from the gate to the pool. “Last one in is a ... Hell, I have no idea what.” With that, she dove neatly off the side and swam the length in graceful motions.

  The others were no more conservative than Ellen was and started stripping. Finally, Eartha, who was by far the most modest, said, “There is no one around for miles as far as we saw getting here, so why not?” Soon they all four frolicked and swam in the cool, refreshing water. They did not see several pairs of eyes watching them ... two from an upstairs window, a couple other from the thick copse of trees to the back of the yard, and another pair from the shadows of the overgrown shrubs.

  Ellen floated on her back, eyes closed and voluptuous breasts like white balloons on the surface. Windy lay on a float, her back to the sky. Eartha dove underwater and pulled tiny Marybeth into her arms, holding her as she would a child. However, her kiss to the small lips was not a child's kiss. Marybeth opened her lips and slid her tongue into the other's mouth, savoring the reaction she felt. The fingers that moved between her blonde nether curls were not meant for anything but arousing passion, and they did almost immediately. Marybeth began to moan, causing Windy and Ellen to look at her. When they realized what was happening, they both let out gasps of surprise.

  Ellen reacted first. “What are you two doing? Hell, I can see what you are doing. Are you both lesbos or what? Jesus, girls, enough is enough. Stop that right now."

  Eartha continued to bring pleasure to her friend until Marybeth reached her climax. They kissed one more time and then moved apart. She spoke first. “God, you two act like such prudes. Eartha and I have been lovers for three years. We thought you both knew it. Sorry if we offended your virgin sensibilities.” However, she was not sorry, and they all knew it.

  Windy pulled herself out of the water and wrapped a towel around herself. “I guess the thought had crossed my mind a few times, but then I would see you with men and hear about your getting laid, so I thought it was just my imagination."

  "That was all true. We like each other, and we like cocks, too. Nothing wrong with that, is there?” Eartha's voice had a defensive edge to it. “Hell, you should try it before you condemn it. We could give you a lesson or two if you want. Here and now, or later in the privacy of your virgin beds. Up to you, but I promise you will like it."

  "I think we should find our rooms and our swimsuits,” said Ellen. She dried off, wrapped herself in a towel and went inside, followed by the others.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 4

  In 1990, the four young women became friends the first week they entered college in the charming old city of New Orleans. None of them wanted any part of the sorority rush week, so they spent their time familiarizing themselves with the campus and the layout of the land, as Marybeth Dawson called it. She and her roommate, Eartha Black, were sitting under a tree enjoying the autumn breeze when Ellen Davis and Windy Clayton wandered over to them, introduced themselves, and the rest, as they say, is history.

  Now, four years later, they headed out into the real world, far from the comfort of their college cocoons. Each had a degree in her chosen field and plans for the future. All their belongings were packed in two trailers and two vehicles. Windy would drop Marybeth off in Dallas on her way home to New Mexico, and Ellen would do the same for Eartha in Birmingham on her way home to Atlanta.

  But first, they were taking one final week, a real “Wing Ding Fling,” as Marybeth called it. Eartha had found a Bed and Breakfast in Louisiana, one they could barely afford, but one that appealed to them all. So there they were at Black Bayou Plantation, with strains on their friendships for the first time ever.

  They climbed the stairs to find their luggage strung along one corridor, neatly in front of doors, one for each, apparently. They tried to make small talk after they left the pool, but it was flat and stilted. Without further words, each opened the door where she found her suitcases and quickly moved them inside, shutting the door, hoping it would shut our their new differences.

  Each room was decorated much the same in pastel covered high four-poster beds, faded rose wallpaper, handmade throw rugs and worn hardwood floors. An ancient nightstand with a 1920
s lamp and a windup clock, a matching chest with pitcher and bowl, and a straight-back chair completed the furnishings, along with the promised chamber pot tucked discretely under the bed. There was a closet with a few old wooden hangers on one wall with a dangling light bulb inside. No screens covered the French doors that led out to the balcony, the strength was questionable by the degradation of time and decay. There were a few old rockers with moldy cushions unfit to sit upon, but they gave the place a pretty look from a distance ... a far distance.

  The rooms had a less musty smell than the downstairs, as the windows were open and fresh air, and humidity, joined the breeze that refreshed the air. There were no screens on the windows, explaining the netting on the corners of the four posters; mosquitoes would visit, it appeared. Thank God for bug killer, thought Ellen. Why, what would Mama say to red, swollen bites?

  Moreover, what would Mama say if I told her two of my friends are bisexual? Why, Mama probably didn't know what that was. So why did it bother Ellen so much? She did not know why, other than to admit to herself that she did not know her friends as well as she thought. Way back in her mind, sliding forward as a serpent in the grass, was a disturbing thought put there by Eartha's suggestion that she try it. She pushed the thought away, but it rose again, forcing ‘you might like it’ to surface clearly. Dear Lord, did that make her a lesbo too? She had enjoyed her stolen nights with her fiancé not because he was a great lover, but because it was forbidden. Maybe she was bisexual, too. She lay on the bed and let the pictures her mind fabricated flow like a slide show behind her eyelids. She could see Eartha moving toward her, naked with hard nipples, reaching for her. Touching her. Caressing her. Kissing her. Rubbing her. A loud knock brought her back to reality, but not before she realized there was wetness between her legs.

  Windy opened the door without waiting for a reply, just as they all had done for years. When she saw the look on Ellen's face, she quickly apologized. “I guess I am not thinking straight. I should not have burst in like that. After all, we are not roommates anymore."

  "Don't be silly, you can come in anytime you want. Have a chair, or better if I offer a piece of the bed. I don't think I trust that chair to hold my robe and slippers without collapsing.” She grinned and then moved to Windy, hugging her. “Come on, sit down."

  They were silent for a few minutes before Windy spoke again. “I don't know about you, but what Eartha said just blew my mind. I never had a clue about them, did you? Even so, what does it matter? They are still the same friends we have always had, don't you think? I want to go tell them that. Do you want to go with me?” Her question contained a thread of plea, which Ellen picked up immediately. They had been roommates too long not to be attuned to each other on many levels.

  "I agree. Let's do it before I lose my nerve.” They went down the hall, knocking first on the door where Eartha's luggage had sat. No reply, so they moved to the last door, which was Marybeth's. Still no answer. Then they heard faint whispering, as if someone wanted them to leave. They exchanged looks and turned away just as the door opened. Their two friends stood side by side, grinning like the proverbial Cheshire Cat.

  "Stop standing there like zombies and come in. We were just on our way to find you. I promise not to seduce you, at least until dark.” Eartha took a hand each and pulled them inside. “See, I will even leave the door open for your safety."

  Marybeth took the other hands, making it a full circle. “We are friends, always have been, always will be. We apologize for the incident in the pool. We both thought you knew, or we would never have embarrassed you ... or ourselves, for that matter. Please forgive us.” They all started talking at once, then hugged all around. “Now, as I recall from the ‘papers’ about this place,” said Eartha, “there is a twenty-four-hour-a-day open bar. I suggest we find it ... and some appropriate clothes."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 5

  They found the bar and helped themselves to ample amounts of their favorites. They were sitting on the shaded verandah with their drinks when Mrs. Woodward came with trays of marvelous canapés and news that Mrs. Atwater was feeling no better and would not join them for supper. She suggested an informal meal, buffet style, on the verandah about eight. Informal meal meant informal attire, so they eagerly agreed. She also brought bottles of insect repellent “to use in the early morning and late afternoon on, as that is when the pesky little guys are the thickest."

  No sooner had she left than Marybeth found one feasting on her leg, followed quickly by Ellen, who found two. The others laughed. Windy suggested that the pale skin attracted them more than dark when the first one attacked her, followed by a couple more. Eartha truly seemed immune to them, but admitted she had already treated her skin before coming down. Once they were all coated thickly with the oily repellent, they decided to take a break from over-indulgence and walk around the plantation.

  To one side of the four-car garage was a vegetable garden teeming with every imaginable type as well as rows of fruit trees and berries. Windy, the ever-practical one, mused aloud, “How can two old ladies and one man take care of all this, not counting the house and other buildings? The lawns and flowers are in disarray, with nothing done to them in years, it appears. Wonder why?"

  No one had any comment to make as they followed a sand path, stopping short as they reached the unmoving black waters of the bayou. Here the moss hung from the trees in the twilight like ghostly sheets, almost too thick to see through. A snorting sound came from their right. They turned as one to confront a huge alligator moving toward them at a speed they could not believe.

  "Turn to your left and back up the way you came. Don't run! Stay calm. You are between her and her nest, and she doesn't take to kindly to that. Don't move so fast, dammit. If you run, she'll chase you, and I can damn well guarantee she can run a hell of a lot faster than any of you.” A shadowy figure stepped out of the thick wall of palms and bushes. “Good, that's better. You can relax now. She has decided you are not worth her time, at least for now. In the future, walks by the bayou at dusk or later, even early morning, are not a good idea. Unless you have suicidal tendencies. Now go back to the house and stay within the confines of the fenced areas. That will generally keep out the gators, but not the snakes. And they do like to swim, so I would suggest you keep your water time to the daylight hours."

  "Who are you?” Again Windy was the first to respond. “Thank you for your intervention. We might have been food for baby alligators if you hadn't come across us."

  "I did not ‘come across’ you. I followed you when you left the garden. Had a notion that damn fool women like you would not be smart enough to know that this is not downtown in some big city and that there are things that do go bump-in-the-night."

  "I will have you know, Mr. Whoever-You-Are, that there are things that bump-in-the-night in New Orleans, Atlanta, and other cities. Been mugged lately? Had a pickpocket relieve you of your money lately? Been...” Ellen's words were cut off. She felt a strange attraction for this rude man, and that made her even angrier because she wanted to feel disdain for his haughty demeanor.

  "No, I have not! I am smarter than that ... to let myself get into any of those situations. However, none of that matters. I am leaving you right here. Hope you can find your way back in the dark, because night falls in minutes down here. Sweet dreams!"

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 6

  "Here,” ordered Eartha. “Hold hands, and we won't get separated. I think I can see the path well enough to get us back.” She was right, and soon they emerged from the dark gloom behind them to face the mansion with lights on in the lower rooms and one on the second floor.

  "I was wondering where you were,” said Mrs. Woodward. “I started to worry when the sun set, but now it doesn't matter. You are home safely.” She smiled as an indulgent mother might. “I have your food prepared and ready on the verandah. Please help yourselves and ring if you need anything further. I am going to take a
tray up to Mrs. Atwater now. Don't worry about cleaning up, one of the boys will do that. See you in the morning."

  "Wait,” spoke Eartha. “What boys? Was that ‘one of the boys’ we met by the water? Who...?” Her voice trailed off as they watched Mrs. Woodward hurry off to the kitchen and return immediately with a tray, which she balanced carefully against her ample torso as she climbed. “Well, does anyone have any brilliant ideas?"

  "Well, yes, I do,” drawled Ellen. “I think we should dive into plates of whatever that is on the verandah ... the screened part of the verandah, I might add."

  The meal was first class, with everything from unusual salads to poached fish, roasted meats, grilled potatoes and yams and condiments of every shape and size. Breads and wines, each perfect for one of the entrees, sat on the sideboard. Dessert choices were as numerous as in any high-cost hotel dining room.

  They found themselves full and tired by the time the old grandfather clock in the entry struck nine. “Nine o'clock and I am totally done in,” said Marybeth with a yawn. “Sorry to be the proverbial party pooper, by I am heading for bed. Are we sure that alligator did not follow us?"