Punished Arelia LaRue Book #2

by Kira Saito

  I hastily opened it and began to read the slanted writing.

  July 13th 1852

  My body isn’t my own. I have two masters, the maker and the driver. The maker abandoned me long ago and now, I am at the mercy of the driver. He owns my body and my soul. From daybreak till sunset, my body is never my own. Your face is the only thing that reminds me that redemption is near. The smell of your hair and the light in your eyes is that of Bon Dieu.

  July 16th 1852

  My skin is raw and my hands can barely move. There was a full moon tonight, and the driver showed no mercy. We toiled under its light. Under its beauty, I caught a glimpse of you. The hunger in my belly grows, but I pay it no attention when I think of you.

  August 4th 1852

  The owner is a kind enough man, but the driver is not. He threatens and enforces fear. He pays little attention to the orders of the owner. We are left at his mercy. Thirty lashes today because the weight of the cotton simply wasn’t right. What got me through each and every one of those lashes was the thought of your smile and your sweet embrace. Even in agony and pain; I never stop thinking of you.

  August 14th 1852

  Desperation and despair will me to follow the drinking gourd, but my heart stops me from doing so. If you promised to meet me at the end of the river, I would go. Your fickle nature prevents you from keeping your word, but I still love you so.

  There were pages and pages full of Louis’ writing. He outlined his day to day life as a slave and professed his undying love for an unnamed girl. It was heartbreaking but oddly hopeful. It was clear that Louis’ life and being had revolved around this girl. She was his hope and his light. His love for her was the only thing that got him through his miserable plight and gave him a glimpse of salvation.

  Who was this mystery girl, and what had happened to her? I slumped against the wall and read until my eyes got heavy and I gave into the call of seductive sleep.

  Chapter 12

  Forgive Me Father For I have sinned, I think…

  “Arelia.” A familiar and welcoming voice pulled me out of my slumber. I felt a gentle hand full of heat on my moist cheek and my eyes slowly opened.

  “Lucus? Is this a dream?”

  “I don’t believe so.” Lucus gave me a slight smile, as he carefully brushed away the hair stuck to my cheek. “You disappeared. Everyone’s been worried, Sabrina, Mae, Henri, and…” He cleared his throat, paused and nervously ran his fingers through his hair. “Me.”

  It wasn’t a dream; Lucus was actually there and perfectly healed. I abruptly placed myself in an upright position.

  “You’re okay!” I was beyond thrilled to see that he wasn’t covered in scars and deformed. He appeared to be remarkably well rested. His dark eyes were clear, and his bronzed skin was smooth against his classic white t-shirt. Aunt Mae was literally a miracle worker.

  I couldn’t help but give him a warm hug and take in the scent of his slightly damp skin. I let out a low sigh. I pulled away in embarrassment; after all, he was probably annoyed at me for not listening to his warning. “I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I’m sorry for last night.”

  He clasped my hands into his and studied me carefully before speaking. “What you did last night was hasty and dangerous. You could have gotten yourself killed. Although I don’t have your power, I do know that random spirits are never to be messed with. You shouldn’t have invited that spirit in, if I hadn’t been there, it would have been you in my place.”

  God, I was only trying to help him, he didn’t have to give me a lecture. I felt myself getting angry. Who was he to preach to me? “Look. I said I’m sorry, but I was only trying to help. I didn’t do it for just the hell of it. You know.”

  “I know,” he said, as he lifted my chin up from its downward position. “You took an incredible risk, all for the sake of helping me. If you did that, I have no choice but to do the same. I would be a coward not to.” He sat down on the dirt floor and took a deep breath. “I owe it to you to tell you the truth about Louis and me.”

  I instantly perked up. I wanted to show him the diary, but I was dying to know what he had to say first.

  “Last night I told you that there was only one person that challenged me and wasn’t afraid to speak his mind around me.”

  “I remember,” I said, as I recalled that awkward moment.

  “That man was Louis.” He took a melodramatic pause. “And I’m the one who is responsible for his death.”

  I felt my blood turn to ice as I gripped the diary in my hand. I thought about Louis’ writings, and pity flooded me. Lucus was a murderer. Was he the driver Louis had been referring to in his writings? Was he the one that killed Louis?

  “Arelia, please say something,” Lucus begged, as he shook me lightly.

  I was afraid to ask how Lucus had murdered him and why. “But how? I mean, he was a slave. How did he even get close to you? Did you just shoot him or beat him to death because you thought he was disposable?” I was getting increasingly angry. I had finally started to trust Lucus, and now I was faced with the ugly truth. He was a murderer. Maybe even a serial murderer, like I had originally suspected.

  “No, it didn’t happen like that,” he whispered, as he placed his hand on the back of his neck and looked up at the slanted roof.

  “Then how did it happen?” My voice was dry and emotionless, only because I was trying to be perfectly calm and sensible. In reality, I wanted to scream and say: how could you have kept this from me?!!! I had started to trust you!!!!!

  A flashback from last night hit me and for a moment, I regretted helping Lucus. Maybe I should have let that ugly spirit feast on him. Perhaps the reason the spirit had been there was to warn me.

  A few minutes of awkward silence passed. Lucus’ eyes were still firmly fixed on the rotting roof.

  “Look at me!” I finally demanded, unable to be all together and noble any longer. “You said that I could ask you anything and you would be honest with me.” I reminded him.

  Lucus gradually deterred his eyes from the ceiling and focused his attention on me. “It happened in 1853 on a horribly dreary and rainy night.”

  He looked down at his hands and took a deep breath. “At that time, the yellow fever was running wild throughout New Orleans, for some reason or another, the disease and decay had decided to grow immensely that year. The city smelled of death and maddening desperation. The stench of demise was everywhere, but the city was still vibrant, determined and eternally hopeful.

  “My mother often warned me to stay far away from the center as possible, but I paid her no attention. Night after night, day after day, it seduced me with the call of adventure and intrigue. The opera houses, new arrivals at the ports, the sheer madness of it all. I couldn’t stay away. Eventually, I became a victim of the fever, was bed ridden and on the verge of death.”

  “I don’t understand how does this have anything to do with Louis?”

  “For some reason or another, the fever hit me extremely hard, and despite all of his wealth and power, there was nothing my father could do but watch me slowly suffer and eventually die. The pain was excruciating. I passed a week or so in a state of lunacy and nausea. My mother, who was a devout Catholic, asked her priest, Father Rodrigo, to read me my last rights, so my soul would find peace. Everyone in the house pretty much knew that my time had come. I was fine with that. I reasoned that even though my life had been short, it had been full, and I had been given opportunities that most could never dream of. My father, however, turned to Marie for help. For some reason, he always leaned on Marie in times of trouble. Unlike my mother, he didn’t give preference to one religion or belief over another. He knew Marie was a voodoo queen and knew that she would be able to do something.”

  “Was she able to help?” I whispered.

  “The night Marie was called into the main house; Louis appeared in my room instead of her. He was fuming like a madman. How he got inside, I cannot fathom since the main house accommodations were heavily guar
ded at all times. I remember his wild eyes and his ripped clothes. He peered at me with those haunting eyes, as I struggled to fight against the illness that was dominating my body. I clearly remember his laugh and elation as he watched me brawl for life and how he took pleasure in my pain. He spoke of how I deserved to feel agony because I had taken everything from him. Eventually, he stopped speaking and sat on top of me and dealt me blow after blow until my blood soaked the sheets. I was too weak to defend myself.” There was a deep, troubled furrow on Lucus’ forehead, as he spoke and recalled the past.

  “He attacked you?” I asked a little too hastily. Maybe Lucus had only defended himself, and he wasn’t a crazy murderer after all.

  Lucus nodded. “He was relentless, almost as if he were possessed. I pleaded, but my cries of mercy fell on deaf ears. At that time, I was so sick; I could hardly see straight let alone fend him off. I don’t recall exactly how, but I managed to scream loud enough to get the attention of one of the housekeepers. My room was immediately filled with people and Louis was instantaneously secured and dragged out of my room.” His eyes were full of regret; I couldn’t help but feel pity for him. “The next day, Louis was dead, and I had been healed.”

  “How did you even make the connection between his death and the curse? When did you find out about the whole thing? It may not be connected at all. Did you see Mad Marie that night?” Whenever I got super excited about anything, I tended to ask a lot of questions. I had to admit I wasn’t the world’s most patient person.

  “At first I didn’t make any type of connection, I thought that Louis’ death had nothing to do with me. I was so grateful to be alive; I never gave him a second thought.”

  He took a long, thoughtful pause. “I can honestly say I don’t know if I saw Marie that night, it was all such a distorted mess. A few months after the bizarre incident, life returned to normal. I carried on as if nothing had happened and ignored the silent whispers of the house-staff, the death of Louis and the mysterious disappearance of Marie.

  All that changed when I fell off a horse and broke my neck. I was supposed to be paralyzed and, for a few months, I was. Once again, my father brought in medical experts from all over the world, and they all said the same thing I would never walk again.”

  “But you healed…”

  He nodded. “I did. As time passed, it became obvious that I wasn’t aging, and the only explanation I could think of was that strange night and how I had cheated death. After your great great-great grand-mere was hired, it was confirmed. I was cursed, and my fate was forever tied to Louis Beau. I deserved to die several deaths, I was supposed to die.”

  “You can’t hold yourself responsible for his death; he attacked you, who actually killed him?”

  It suddenly hit me that even though Lucus hadn’t murdered Louis, he somehow felt accountable for his death. All these years he had been living under the weight of colossal guilt. It was remorse that had actually kept him captive.

  He let out a low breath. “He was killed, but no one knows who did it, all the slave-drivers refused that they had anything to do with the death despite my father’s constant inquiries. The drivers weren’t very kind men. They were strict and slightly cruel at times, but there had never been an actual slave death at Darkwood due to a beating.”

  “But, how was he killed?”

  “I repeatedly asked my father the same question, but his answer was never clear. I questioned the household staff. Each one of them had their own theories, but no one knew what killed him. Some said that he was poisoned; others believed he was beaten to death, and my father covered it up. I suppose we’ll never truly know the truth. All I know is that he died, and I lived. I shouldn’t have survived.”

  I placed my hand over his. He gave me a tight smile and some of the darkness in his eyes lifted. I chose my words carefully before I spoke. “I’m not a psychology expert or anything, but I think you blame yourself for his death because you feel guilty about the life he lived that you didn’t do anything to help him.” I ventured a guess.

  “Arelia, can’t you see? I am responsible for his death. I watched him toil in the fields, and I did nothing about it. He suffered everyday while I ate fine food, drank expensive liquor and all I could ever want was just handed to me. I did take everything from him. He attacked me because he had a right to take back his dignity. If I were in his position, I’d probably have done the same thing.”

  I shook my head. “You can’t think like that. Sure you weren’t exactly proactive, but it’s hard to be brave sometimes, especially when everyone else sees no wrong in what’s going on around them. What happened in the past will never be right, but like you said, the future doesn’t have to bleak as well.”

  “I think you’re brave,” he whispered, as he brushed off some of the mud that had clung to my cheek. “You would have said or done something.”

  I felt myself flush and shook my head. “There’s a fine line between brave and insane, I haven’t decided which one I am yet.”

  Lucus laughed lightly. “I’d be lying if I said you weren’t a bit of both.”

  I gave him a small smirk. “You’re supposed to be polite to me, remember? The fate of your soul essentially rests in my puny hands.”

  “I am being agreeable. You wanted honesty, remember?”

  I laughed. “But seriously, there must have been another reason why Louis singled you out. He could have attacked your father, mother or the drivers out in the fields. There has to be more to the story.” I was adamant.

  “You’ve been blaming yourself this whole time because he died right after he attacked you, you don’t truly believe that you deserve peace, do you? You said that you’ve asked countless people to help you remove the curse, but that’s pretty much useless if you think you deserve to live under it. And you claim that you’ve cleaned out rooms and stopped chasing the ghosts, but really, you haven’t.” I accused.

  He glanced at his hands again, and there was a depressing silence. “How else can you explain this? It’s clearly a punishment for some sin I have committed.” He reasoned “Do you believe I am worthy of peace?” he asked, as he studied my expression.

  “Yes.” I looked him directly in the eyes and spoke with a conviction that I never knew I had. “How can you blame yourself for something you had no control over? Besides, Aunt Mae and Grand-mere Bea keep insisting that there isn’t such thing as good or evil; I don’t know if I buy into the whole sin thing anyways. I think you’re addicted to the sadness. There’s something else…”

  “What is that?” he asked intently.

  “Look, I think I found Louis’ journal.” I handed the journal to Lucus.

  Lucus’ eyes narrowed. “This can’t be his. Louis never knew how to write, and neither did Marie. None of the slaves at Darkwood had any type of education. It was forbidden.”

  “I saw him, or at least I think it was him.” I maintained. “He had smooth caramel colored skin and high cheekbones, right?”

  Lucus nodded.

  “So it was him! He led me to the journal. It has to be his. I found it right over there.” I pointed to the patch of dirt that I had practically destroyed.

  “But…”

  “And,” I interrupted him. “A few days ago I had a dream; Aunt Mae thinks that it means Louis’ soul is still hanging around. So whatever punishment or curse you’re under, he’s under it too. At least, I think.”

  He slowly opened the yellow pages and began to read. His expression was severe as he read Louis’ writings. “What does this all mean?” he asked when he finally stopped.

  I shrugged. “I have no clue. But you’re not mentioned once in his diary. Isn’t that a little weird if he was angry enough at you to try to beat you to death?”

  “I’m not sure what to make of this. All this time I’ve been certain that I deserved this punishment, but if Louis is suffering the same fate… Why would Marie eternally damn her own son?”

  Lucus was at a loss for speech; his dark hair hung in hi
s eyes as he listlessly stared at the ancient journal in silence. His hands clutched it firmly as if he expected it to somehow disappear.

  I observed him for a few minutes and realized that he was a lot like me. He had been tossed into a realm that he had no control over and was expected to blindly accept his fate. Although he had lived for so many years, he was still struggling to accept his place in the greater scheme of things. Then and there, it became clear that I didn’t see him as a creepy old man. I felt a sharp and inexplicable pang of empathy for him. Impulsively, I clasped his sharp cheeks between my hands and lifted his head. My stomach did a slight flip as his sad eyes met mine. “You’re just as lost as I am, aren’t you?”

  He nodded. “Perhaps I am.”

  “Arelia! Heaven forefend! I thought a nasty alligator might have attacked you.” Sabrina rushed into the cabin. Her blue Louboutins were caked in mud, and her fair skin was slightly sun-burnt. Why the hell had she just said heaven forefend?

  I quickly got up and distanced myself from Lucus. “Hey, what are you doing here?” I asked.

  “Everyone’s looking for you, you just took off. It’s been six hours.”

  Six hours? I had been gone for that long? How long had the rats been dancing on my face?

  “Lucus, you found her!” She ran over to him and gave him an enormous hug and what I assumed was an extraordinarily sticky kiss on the cheek. It left a slight lipstick stain, and I looked away in disgust.

  Lucus gently peeled her off and rose from the dirt floor. He looked uncomfortable and unsure of what to say. “It was nothing Sabrina; let’s head back to the main house, okay?”

  “For sure,” she said, as she firmly latched on to his arm.

  Heaven forefend, indeed. I shivered as I felt the dark stab of jealousy take its cruel aim at me.