Blue Moon

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Blue Moon Page 3

by C. D. Ledbetter


  It was then she remembered the dream, and her panic returned tenfold. Patches of sweat formed on her brow and rolled down the sides of her face. She'd been running from something terrifying. Whatever was chasing her meant to do her harm. She struggled to remember more, but her memory refused to cooperate.

  Shaky hands turned on the light. There was nothing to be afraid of. It was silly to let a nightmare spook her. Most likely the dream was the result of the old black woman's strange visit and her vivid imagination. She closed her eyes and slowly counted to twenty. When she finished, she felt better. She'd merely had a scary dream. It was time to go back to sleep. She pounded her pillow into a more comfortable lump and switched off the light.

  Pale fingers of winter sunlight streamed through the window when she awoke a few hours later. Weary from her restless night, she made her way downstairs and followed the distinctive aroma of chicory-flavored coffee to the mammoth kitchen. Justine was there, cooking breakfast. She turned when Mary entered and offered to pour a cup of hot coffee for her.

  "No thanks. I'm not much of a coffee drinker," Mary replied. She'd had a cup of the chickory-flavored brew the night before and wasn't about to make that mistake again. The smell of bacon and eggs sizzling in a cast iron skillet created a homey atmosphere, so she decided to ask Justine about Sadie's cryptic remarks.

  "Last night Sadie came to see me and mentioned something about a Blue Moon."

  The metal spatula clattered to the floor.

  Well, at least she had Justine's attention. She pasted a false smile on her face and continued. "What do you know about Sadie that you're not telling me?" she asked. "I probably ought to tell you that no matter what happens, I will finish this inventory job. You won't frighten me into leaving."

  Justine bent over to pick up the utensil. "What on earth are you talking about? Nobody's trying to scare you off." She shook her head. "Tell you what. Why don't you let me finish cooking your breakfast and then we'll talk."

  Mary leaned back in her chair at the far end of the table. "There's nobody up but us, so you don't need to make breakfast on my account. I usually just have juice and a slice of toast with margarine."

  The old woman transferred plates from the ancient stove to the table. "Everyone needs a good breakfast to start the day. That's what's wrong with the world today. Young folks don't have any idea how to eat, much less fix a proper meal. Besides, as soon as I heard your footsteps on the stairs, I started cooking, so you'll have to eat something. We don't allow anyone to throw away food around here. It's too expensive."

  Mary grinned. "You sound just like my mother."

  Justine wiped her hands on her flowered apron. "Well, it sounds like you have the right sort of mother. I'll take that as a compliment." She pushed the plates toward her. "You go ahead and fix your plate. I'll get another cup of coffee and then I'll join you."

  Mary glanced around the room. "This kitchen's not part of the original house, is it?"

  "They added it on in the thirties. I think it was when they added the plumbing and electricity."

  "Was that when they cut down the yellow rose bushes? Did you and Sadie work here then?"

  Gray eyebrows arched above blue eyes. "What rose bushes?"

  Mary shrugged. She'd have to be more careful with her questions. "I thought I saw a picture of the house that showed rose bushes out front. Sorry, my mistake. What about you and Sadie? Did you both come here at the same time?"

  Justine laughed. "Please, don't make me any older than I am. I didn't come until 1976. Sadie's at least ten years older than I am. I told you yesterday that she came here with Mr. Ventereux. Don't you remember?"

  Mary bit her lip. She'd forgotten about their brief conversation yesterday. "Oh yeah, sorry." She toyed with the food on her plate. "Justine, how well do you know Sadie?"

  "As well as anybody can, I expect. Sadie's not exactly your typical Southerner, but I like her. When the house is sold, she's going to live with me. My son's fixed up a nice little house for me down in Houma." She sighed as she spooned more sugar into her coffee. "I sure hope this place sells soon. I want to get settled in before the ice storms come."

  Mary looked up, surprised by her comment. "You don't mind moving?"

  The old woman's face eased into a smile. "Good Lord no, child. I've wanted to retire for the last five years. The only reason Sadie, Markham, and I stayed on is because Mr. Ventereux didn't have a real family to look after him. Those Martines didn't care one bit about him. They didn't even bother to send that poor old man, as sick as he was, a card at Christmas time." She shook her head and clicked her tongue. "Hateful, that's what those two are. Sadie, Markham, and I were all the family Mr. Venetereux had. When he died, he left us a little money and we'll use that to live on. That, plus our Social Security should be more than enough to see us to the end of our days."

  "What about the elderly gentleman I saw last night. Markham--"

  Justine waved her fork. "Don't you worry about him. Markham's got family out in Las Vegas. They've been after him to move out there." She chuckled. "He's planning to do a little gambling in his old age. Been saving his nickels and pennies for years."

  "I see. So nobody's sorry to leave this house?"

  "I didn't say we wouldn't be sorry. We've been here a long time, and it's gonna be hard to leave. But, life goes on." She used the back of her hand to wipe tears that trickled down her cheeks. "This house is too big for me to take care of. Lord knows none of us would work for that Mr. and Mrs. Martine. Selfish, that's what those two are." She lowered her voice and leaned forward. "Did I tell you they tried to take away the little bit of money Mr. Ventereux left us? They went to the lawyer and tried to have the will revoked. Said Mr. Ventereux was feeble-minded when he made it out."

  That didn't surprise Mary at all. "What happened?"

  Justine snickered. "Mr. Phelps, the lawyer, took care of them, all right. He informed them Mr. Ventereux made that will years ago, long before he got sick. He also told them that folks around here don't take kindly to people who try to rob elderly men and women out of a rightful inheritance. Mr. Ventereux left us that money fair and square, and there wasn't any way in hell they were gonna get their hands on it."

  Mary grinned. "Good for him. I'm glad you have somewhere to go, Justine. I wondered what would to happen to you, Markham, and Sadie." She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "That reminds me. You didn't answer my other question. What's a Blue Moon?"

  Justine stopped chewing and slowly placed her fork on the table. "Why are you asking about the Blue Moon?"

  "Sadie told me that when the Blue Moon got here, I'd understand why I know things I keep trying to forget."

  She shook her head. "I was hoping this wouldn't come up, but since it has, I guess I owe you an explanation. You may not believe this, but Sadie's a Voodoo priestess. Has been for as long as I've known her."

  Mary nearly choked on her toast. "You're kidding. I thought Voodoo ceremonies were outlawed."

  Justine smiled. "Not really. They don't hold many ceremonies these days, not like they used to. I don't know if you know anything about Voodoo, but Sadie used to be a powerful mambo. The women in her family have always had the power. It's been passed down from generation to generation, always to the second female child. Sadie doesn't have any children, so I guess the gift will end with her. It's probably as well, considering the ways things are nowadays." She grinned and shook her finger at Mary. "I could tell you stories about her past that would make your hair stand on end. Sadie was something else when she was young." She sipped her coffee. "To tell the truth, I'm really glad she doesn't practice Voodoo like she used to. Of course, I'd never tell her that. I wouldn't want to hurt her feelings. In the last few years she's slowed down quite a bit, and only holds ceremonies once in a while. Especially since the sheriff's men burned out most the wild herbs and plants she needs to make the ritual potion. Now she has to make the potion from homemade hooch and a few wild plants, and she told me her visions aren't n
early as powerful as they used to be. I was surprised to hear she's holding a ceremony for the Blue Moon."

  Mary digested this bit of news in silence. Justine appeared to be lost in memories. She waited a few moments, then asked, "Justine, do you practice Voodoo?"

  The old woman shook her head. "Me? No, I don't practice Voodoo, but I do have a healthy respect for those folks that do. I try not to cross them. Over the years, I've seen Sadie have too many visions not to. I believe that she has some kind of power, but I don't really want to know anything else about it."

  She paused, idly stirring her coffee. "I do know that once every couple of years or so there's a haze that covers the moon and makes it look blue. There's some fancy scientific name for it, but I can't recall what it is. Whenever the Blue Moon occurred, Sadie would hold a Blue Moon Voodoo ceremony, but she hasn't done that for several years. The purpose of the Blue Moon ceremony was to help two old souls find each other."

  "Old souls?"

  Justine's frown turned into a smile. "Now that's one thing I do believe in." She reached out and covered Mary's hand with hers. "The first thing you have to understand is that people go from one lifetime to another. I believe we live each lifetime as a different person. Old souls are people whose love is so strong they manage to find the same mate in every single lifetime. My husband, God rest his soul, was one of those people. We loved each other from the first day we set eyes on one another. I know that in the next lifetime I'll find my Thomas, and we'll be together again. I know that as surely as I know my own name."

  "That's beautiful, Justine," Mary said. "I've heard of old souls before, but never met one. It's nice to know there are some people who can find that kind of love." She shook her head. "Especially since most people these days end up divorced."

  Justine smiled and patted her hand. "Aren't you gonna ask me why Sadie and I are such good friends, even though she's a black Voodoo priestess and I'm white?"

  "I didn't want to pry."

  Justine sat quietly, as if struggling for words. "Sadie pulled my son out of a bayou when he was six. He decided he wanted to pick some of the water lilies. He didn't know they grew on top of the water. One minute Sadie was standing next to me and the next thing I knew, she'd started running toward the bayou, screaming for me to call the doctor. She 'saw' that he was going to fall in and hit his head on a log. If it hadn't been for her, my Tim wouldn't be alive today. I'll never forget that as long as I live."

  Two tears rolled down the old woman's cheeks. "She and I aren't so different. We're both decent folk who've been through a lot. She lost her husband in a car crash and I lost mine to cancer. As far as her Voodoo, I don't care what religion people are, as long as they don't try to force me to be the same. Sadie doesn't do that. She practices her Voodoo and gives me tidbits of information as she sees fit."

  "You're lucky to have a friend like that."

  Justine wiped her tears with a napkin. "She's a good friend and I love her dearly." She stared at Mary for a few moments, idly stirring her coffee. " Now it's my turn to ask a question. What's bothering you, child? I know something's wrong. You've been edgy ever since you got here. I saw the look on your face yesterday when you stood out front. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were having one of Sadie's visions."

  Mary struggled for an answer. How could she answer Justine's question without letting her know she'd been having memories about this house? She shrugged and toyed with the food on her plate. "Actually, I'm really interested in finding out everything I can about this plantation. Are there any old records on who built it?"

  Justine narrowed her eyes. "All you'll find is legal documents. Mr. Ventereux was interested in finding the original house plans, but during the Civil War everything got lost or burned."

  "What happened to the people who lived here? Aren't there any records that tell about them?"

  "Nope. Nobody knows what happened to them. All we ever found out was that a young couple built this house and lived here for a couple of months before the Yankees came. Then they disappeared. It was as if the earth swallowed them up." She sighed and pushed her chair away from the table. "Well, your company's good, but I've got work to do."

  Mary stood up. "Me, too. Breakfast was delicious, but I need to get started. Do you have any idea how soon Jack will be downstairs?"

  Justine looked puzzled. "Didn't I tell you? He came down about an hour before you did. I made him breakfast and he asked me to tell you he'd see you after his walk. I'm terribly sorry. Must be my old age setting in. I guess I forgot to mention it."

  Mary waved away her apology. "No problem, Justine. I didn't realize you were such early risers."

  "Don't you worry about it. I can never eat breakfast that early anyway. It's bad for the digestion. Besides, it was good to have company for a change. Can you find your way to the drawing room, or do you need me to show you where it is?"

  "No, I think I can find it. I need to get started anyway. Thanks for the breakfast. I'll make sure I'm up with everybody else from now on. I don't want to make any extra work for you."

  "It wasn't any trouble. And I really enjoyed your company. It was nice to have somebody to talk to."

  As Mary walked down the hall, she heard Justine call her name. "Yes?"

  "I remembered something else," Justine announced from the doorway. "The Blue Moon's tonight. Thought you might like to know."

  "Thanks," she murmured absently. She recalled the previous night's conversation, and wondered what, if anything, would happen. Surely she wouldn't receive another visit from Sadie. The first one had kindled her imagination, but a second would prove the staff really did want to scare her and Jack into leaving. She sighed, then continued down the hall. Well, if nothing else, the Blue Moon would resolve most of her problems, one way or another.

  Chapter 5

  Jack looked up from his papers as Mary entered the dining room. The moment their eyes met, his pulse quickened and his mouth grew dry.

  She paused mid-step, her mouth open slightly. Her gaze remained entwined with Jack's as the outside world fell away. Memories flooded her mind. She stood still, mesmerized by the intensity of her vision.

  Jean–Pierre looked up from the sofa. "Where is everyone?"

  She set her baskets on the floor. "I've sent them to their quarters for the night. Nobody saw me take food from the kitchen."

  He stacked his paperwork on the small coffee table. "Good. We'll take it to our visitors and send them on their way as soon as it gets dark."

  She glanced back to the large baskets filled with food. "Do you think that's enough food to last until they reach their next stop?"

  "It'll have to be enough. They won't be able to carry anything else, especially since the younger woman's with child. We can't risk giving them a horse. Somebody would be sure to spot them. I've hidden a pirogue for them in the bushes by the river. They'll have to travel the river at night and hide out during the day."

  She reached over and gently brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. "My love, you're the most wonderful man in the world. Never did I think I would find someone like you. Not only are you kind and generous, you risk your life time and time again to help slaves get to freedom. I don't know any other man who would even think about doing that." She kissed his cheek and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love you so much. I don't know what I'd do without you."

  He placed a warning finger against her lips. "Shush. Even the walls have ears. We're going to have to be especially careful from now on because I think some of the other plantation owners suspect me of hiding fugitive slaves, even if they can't prove it. No one must know about this, not even Juniemae and Zachariah."

  A slow smile spread across her lips. "I think they already suspect what we're doing, although they've never said anything. Even though we've given them their freedom, they choose to remain with us. Why else would they stay here when they could live a free life somewhere else?"

  A series of loud raps on the front door interrupted their
conversation.

  Jean-Pierre raced to the window and peered out. He cursed under his breath. ."The sheriff's brought a group of men with him, and they've got two male slaves shackled in a wagon. Quick, hide the food in the upstairs panels. I'll delay them until you're through."

  She grabbed the baskets, lifted her long skirts, and raced up the stairs as the pounding continued.

  "Just a moment, I'm coming," Jean-Pierre called out.

  The sound of a cough broke the spell. Mary's shoulders sagged as her jumbled thoughts drifted back to the present. She stumbled to the couch and glanced at Jack out of the corner of her eye. He appeared non-plussed.

  Justine stood in the doorway, wiping her hands on the front of her flowered apron. "I'm going to retire to my room for a hour or so. I wanted to let you know in case you need anything," she announced. She studied them for a moment, then shuffled down the hall.

  The silence in the room deepened until Jack cleared his throat. "Have a nice breakfast?"

  Mary tried to gather wooly thoughts. Breakfast? "Yes, thanks. Sor–sorry I'm late. I didn't realize everybody got up so early."

  He smiled. "No problem. I'm used to being the first one up." He grabbed several pages from the coffee table and held them toward her. "I've sorted out the forms for each room, and figured out a plan for the inventory. Would you mind taking a look at these?"

  She reached for the papers. A strange sensation raced up her arm as her fingers touched his. Startled, she jerked her hand away. Embarrassed by her reaction, she retreated to the opposite end of the couch. What on earth had gotten into her? She wasn't a tongue-tied schoolgirl, shying away from male contact!

  The words on the page swam in front of her and it took a few moments to regain her equilibrium. Seconds ticked by as she flipped through the sheets. "Looks good. Do you want to do each room together? We can verify each object's description and fill in the values later."

 

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