by Chanel Smith
We waited in silence; both of us were watching Ellen, whose eyes scanned the dark shore.
“That way,” she said, extending a finger.
To me, it looked as though we were simply going to run aground, but as we got nearer to where she was pointing, a very slender channel cut back at a jagged angle, nearly invisible behind the thick brush of the shoreline that covered it. Though we scraped the bottom and both sides passing into the slender channel, we were soon winding our way through a hidden path that offered Prince John quite a challenge when it came to maneuvering the boat.
At long last, we caught another glimpse of Archie ahead of us, but the smooth, flowing pace that I’d been used to seeing before had changed. A bit confused by the change, I didn’t fully understand what had happened until we were much closer. He was no longer guiding the pirogue along the channel. He was walking and the jon boat was nowhere to be seen.
I saw Ellen glance back at me and wink, recalling the discussion we had had a few days before concerning whether or not the boat was real. I shook my head and a smile broke across my face. It had taken dropping my $600 cell phone in the water and nearly being bitten by a cottonmouth to catch on to what she had already understood. I had a feeling that she would never let me live down that particular event for as long as we lived.
As I again felt the jon boat run aground below us and heard the horrible squeal and crunch that it made as its metal bottom scraped over exposed roots, I also felt my anxiety begin to rise up in my throat. I wasn’t altogether eager to be getting out of the relative safety of the boat and start walking around with alligators, snakes and all of the other waiting creepy crawlies.
Just as he’d done the night before, Prince John hopped into the water, steadied the boat as we reluctantly stepped ashore and then drew it up further so that it wouldn’t drift away; not that there was anywhere for it to drift in that narrow winding channel. I supposed that a man who was used to doing things a certain way, simply got into a habit of doing it the same way every time.
Without a word, Prince John started to lead off into the thick undergrowth and trees, following a general line behind where Archie had been going. Not looking over his shoulder, Prince John called back to me. “Tranquil, Mister Drew, ain’ no gator o serpen’ gonna have you fo’ his dinner tonight.”
The thought that he had said the very same thing right before both had nearly done exactly what he had claimed they wouldn’t the night before crossed my mind, but I stepped out and followed the crazy old coot anyway.
Chapter Fifteen
At first, I questioned how we could possibly follow someone through the thick tangle of brush, simply by trying to go in a straight line. Most people weave and wind their way through a thick tangle like we were in, he could go in any direction. I was about to comment to that effect when I realized that we were following a ghost and just left it alone.
Though the further away from the water, the less we would have to worry about alligators, my worry increased over the other things that were out there lying in wait and well-hidden. Besides cottonmouths, the bayous of New Orleans were also home to a large number of venomous snakes, including rattlers. My grandfather once told me that rattlers were the kindest of all snakes, because they at least made you aware of their presence and gave you fair warning to leave them alone, where other species simply did their damage without no never mind. My grandfather’s words were of very little comfort in that moment however.
After wandering through the thick tangle of roots, vines, shrubs and branches, we finally arrived in a clearing. Since the fog had lifted and the overcast skies were beginning to clear a bit, the effect of arriving in the clearing was quite profound. A soft beam of moonlight lit an area that looked like a ruin. Scattered to one side of the ruin were various crosses and what looked like headstones protruding out of the ground, some of them even nearly submerged in the murky waters that gathered in pools around the area.
“An old church and cemetery?” I whispered.
“I heared dey was an ol’ Spanish mission here ‘bout, but I ne’er knowed a soul to lay eye on it.”
“Spanish?” Ellen asked. “I thought this area had been French before it was sold to the U.S. in the Louisiana Purchase.”
History was where I shined and I knew a good deal about that particular area. I had always been fascinated by the explorations of the Spanish conquistadores and their search for the Seven Cities of Gold. “Actually, long before the French arrived here, two Spanish conquistadores had already passed through in about 1541: Hernando de Soto from the east and Francisco Vázquez de Coronado from the west. Likely this dates back to that time, though it is a little known fact that the Spanish also had a viceroy set up over this area between 1762 and 1800 in a special agreement with the French with whom they were allied during the Seven Years War…”
“Monty, stop!” I knew that Ellen didn’t particularly care for me rambling on about history, but even for her, the command was a little bit sharp. It was only a moment before I understood why. I turned to follow her gaze, which was looking past my right shoulder. There, seated on the stump of a cypress tree that had been uprooted in some past hurricane or wind storm, was the spirit of Archibald Bordeaux.
Archie’s head was in his hands and he simply stared blankly toward the cemetery.
“I tink we close. Archie know it too, probly he know it a long time, but don’ know where to look.” Prince John’s whisper was an eerie sound. “We talk to him now, hum?”
We moved over closer to him and he looked up at us when the light approached. He rattled off something in French.
“He say he knowed he wife was here, maybe she die here, but dey is no trace lef’ behin’.”
“We need to connect with him and channel all of his thoughts like we did before.” Ellen instantly took charge as we arrived at the point where her gifts were best suited. “Maybe he can give us some clue as to where to look, what we’re looking for and we might even be able to tap into the deeper connection that a man and wife have.”
What I had been pondering earlier might actually be true. I was about to start patting myself on the back when I felt Prince John’s hand on my shoulder and turned to see him extending the voodoo doll toward me.
“What? Why? What do I do with that?”
“You jus’ hold her. Maybe de woman come to you by em by. Jus’ continue recite dem word. I tink she come.”
“Why me?” I wasn’t exactly comfortable with being the keeper of the voodoo doll.
“I gonna be busy.”
I know that my eyes were the size of golf balls as I took the doll into my hands. I was actually expecting some magic spell to come over me, but I didn’t feel anything, just the rapid pounding of my heart.
“Tranquil, Monty.” His focused eyes met mine. “Ever’ting gonna be a’right.”
Again, I felt the peace and energy that I had felt in the parlor of Prince John’s home wash over me and my heartbeat started to return to normal.
“Dey one mo’ ting.” He reached into his pocket and drew out what looked like a small leather pouch with a drawstring closing it. He placed it in my hands along with the doll.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“It help fight away de evil spirit.”
Evil spirit? Nobody had said anything about an evil spirit. Why did I have to fight the evil spirit? “We’re searching for Archie’s wife, right?”
“There is a good chance that Edward Fontaine will be with her,” Ellen put in.
“Good chance, or do you have one of those premonitions of yours?” I knew that Ellen’s premonitions were never wrong.
“Just be ready for anything, Monty, and be ready to be channeled into Mildred. This will be sort of like in London.”
“But I…”
“I need your best, Monty.”
How could I say no when she put things that way? The voodoo doll and the powder, an old Spanish mission and a cemetery in the bayou just went well beyond what I was
used to; it was paranormal overload.
“Tranquil, Monty.” Prince John’s voice echoed through my head. “Truss dis woman.” She needed my energy; she needed my trust to do what certainly had to be extremely difficult. I’d been through something like what we were about to do before and came out just fine. The very first time, with the golden chord coming out of my navel as my only connection to Ellen and life ought to have taught me and I ought to have gotten used to it all. There was no reason for me to doubt her or Prince John.
“I now invoke the law of three. What was lost return to me.” I continued repeating the mantra while I watched Prince John start to channel Archie and Ellen begin to talk to him.
“You think your wife is here?” Ellen asked.
“Her blood cries out to me from this ground,” Prince John responded, channeling and translating the response of Archibald Bordeaux’s spirit.
“You have searched here every night?”
“I have. I am drawn here by her blood, but I cannot find her. I cannot find her spirit.”
“We will help you,” Ellen replied. “I can feel her spirit near, but there is another as well, a dark energy. It is very strong.”
“It’s that cursed Fontaine. He is holding her back from me. He held her in death and now he won’t release her to the light. He keeps her as a prisoner for no other reason than to spite me.”
“He is holding himself back from the light too,” Ellen said.
“The only light he will see are the flickering flames of hell.”
While I looked on, Archie arose from his seat and began to pace like an orator in front of a senate chamber. Lost in his own anger, he did not notice the small, figure that appeared beside one of the few columns of the old mission that was still standing erect. Her countenance was sad as well as she looked upon her lover, perhaps for the first time in nearly two hundred years.
“She’s here,” I whispered to Ellen.
In the very same moment that I spoke to Ellen, Archie looked up and saw her. He froze for an instant, unsure if it was truly her. “Is it truly you, my beloved Mildred?”
She responded in French. Neither of us could understand what she said and Prince John was busy. I looked at Ellen and saw a light bulb click on. “Be ready,” she said.
“I don’t understand what she’s saying,” Ellen said. “You have to repeat whatever she tells you, please. It’s the only way that I can help you.”
“She told me that I need to get away from here or that I will be trapped here for eternity as well.”
“Concentrate, Monty, I need to channel you now.”
I had to do my best. I had to trust Ellen. I had to be… I felt myself drifting for a moment and then the sensation of another person. Was I joined with Mildred’s spirit? The answer came in a rather surprising fashion. I was speaking in a language that I did not understand and at the same time hearing what I had said translated. It was perhaps the strangest sensation I’d experienced to date.
“Okay, Monty, just relax and trust me. I’m going to see if I can figure out how to get these two lovebirds to pass on toward the light together.”
“Okay,” I replied. How could I speak and respond in two separate languages at the same time and only understand one of them?
The desire that I had for Archie was a little bit unsettling; it certainly didn’t go with my manly man image. I had to continue to remind myself that it was her spirit drawing me to him and not my own. It was extremely confusing. In the moment that I reached out to him, I felt myself being suddenly snatched back into the darkness and in the same moment, I felt a sharp command behind me.
“Mildred, stop!”
Chapter Sixteen
The darkness around me was complete.
It was more powerful and more overwhelming than any darkness I had experienced in my life. How had I gotten there? The commanding voice and the sudden force that had dragged me backward had come out of nowhere; I began to panic and called out for Ellen.
I could feel her searching for me, but I could neither hear nor see anything. Was it the connection of our spirits? There was another connection at the same instant; a connection to Archie. What I had been pondering earlier about the energy of a man and wife, the joining of their spirits and the power that drew them to one another was being played out inside of me in two separate manifestations. I called out again.
“Who are you calling out to, Mildred?” It was the same voice that had commanded her/me/us to stop. It likely belonged to the powerful force that dragged us back into the darkness. A part of me, the part that belonged to Mildred, no doubt, knew the voice to belong to Edward Fontaine, Archie’s rival. I was suddenly filled with dread, both parts of me.
I responded to him in French, having no idea what I said. I could not see him, but I could feel his presence in the darkness. He had taken hold of me and was holding me to him.
“Something is wrong,” the voice said. Did Fontaine speak English? It didn’t make sense. Why would he speak to me in English? “There are two of you here. Another presence? Did Archibald finally find you?”
“Ellen, you’ve got to help me out here.” I could sense her presence, but there was no answer, like something was blocking us. I wasn’t sure what to do. I needed help. There was no way that I could fight against the overwhelming power that held me. I was confused by the combination of my own spirit, that of Mildred and my contact with Ellen, which was the dimmest of the three.
“It’s not Bordeaux!” he shouted. “Who are you? How did you find us? What sort of spirit are you?”
I did not know how to respond. Mildred responded, but I was tongue-tied. I was alone in the darkness; no, wait, there was a faint light. It wasn’t bright, like the lantern, but more like the flickering flames of a fire that was behind a veil. Were those the fires of hell beyond the veil? I wasn’t sure why the thought entered my mind, but I wondered if being joined with Mildred had something to do with it.
“Answer me, spirit!” The image that belonged to the powerful presence suddenly revealed himself. I assumed it was Edward Fontaine.
“I am Monty Drew.” How else did he want me to respond? I needed Ellen. I began to focus all of my attention upon the tiny presence of Ellen that was somewhere beyond the darkness. I didn’t know what else to do, so I started to recite the words that Prince John had taught me. “I now invoke the law of three. What once was lost, return to me.”
“What is this silly incantation? What is lost? Answer me, Monty Drew!”
His voice thundered and I could feel his power choking me. It was very similar to the overwhelming sense of the heat and humidity when it had first struck me while we were exiting the plane. In that moment, I realized that I had gotten used to the heat; it wasn’t nearly as suffocating as before. Ellen was right, Ellen was always right. I had to trust her. I held fast to her presence. “Truss dis woman. Truss dis woman.” Prince John’s voice repeated itself over and over again in my mind.
“Release her, Monty Drew, possess this woman no more. I command that you release her!” It felt as though he was attempting to tear apart the bond between Mildred and me. I had no idea how I would be able to release her, even if I wanted to; I did not create the bond, Ellen did. I continued to focus on Ellen, she was my only chance.
Because Fontaine’s spirit was so focused on separating me from Mildred, he was totally unaware of the thin thread that connected me to Ellen. He also had no idea that that very same thread was like a mountain climber’s rope that was leading Archie and, consequently, Prince John on their trek through the darkness toward me. I could feel Ellen’s presence growing stronger and I concentrated even more upon her, though it was difficult and draining my energy to fight for that while the powerful presence of Fontaine pulled in the other direction.
“Wait. What is this? There are more of you! Release her, all of you!” He screeched with a loud voice, near panic, but still exerting its power.
By the time he realized I was not alone, my connection to
Ellen had finally pulled Archie through the darkness and he was helpless to stop it.
“Yes, there are more of us,” Archibald Bordeaux said. His voice was still being channeled through Prince John, but I heard both the English and French at the same time. It created an extremely disheartening and demonic sound. “Release my wife, Fontaine!”
“Tranquil, Monty, de woman still have you.” The sound of Prince John’s voice, even though it was coming from Archie’s mouth, was soothing and I could feel Ellen’s presence, though her voice still eluded me. I simply had to hold on to my trust in her. She was there; she was sustaining me and keeping me from being overpowered. Though without sight, the sound of her voice or the touch of her hand, I felt her there and I grasped onto that with all of my strength.
“Bordeaux. What a surprise!” The evil laugh of Fontaine held no mirth; it was the demonic sound of disdain. “It took you long enough to find us.”
“Yes, but I never gave up. I stayed on the path all of these years and now I’m here and I will dispatch of you just as I did before.”
“That is bold talk for a man who was lucky. My pistol misfired or you would have been dead long before you created that idiot son. I would have been doing the world a favor.”
“Even with his simple mind, Reginald was a better man than you.” The difference in Archie’s face compared to the sad and forlorn one that I was used to was extremely telling. He was a man who knew that he was in the right. “It was God himself who decided our fate that day. Though I do not understand why he did not take your life then. Perhaps he would have taken you to paradise. Now, however, you will soon be tasting the never-quenched thirst of the fires of hell.”
“Again, you speak boldly for a man with such little power.” He had a confident smirk on his face. “You see, I discovered something when I took the lives of the servants of your house. When I got their blood on my hands, I received their souls and became much more powerful. It was with that power that I was not only able to keep Mildred away from you in life, but was able to keep her hidden from you in death.”