The car behind me blew the horn, jolting me from my thoughts. I looked up and saw the light had turned green. I drove off, still noticing the Charger behind me. This time, instead of trying to give him the slip, I continued on to Cee Cee’s. When I turned onto her street, I pulled over on the side of her shop instead of parking in the back. I turned around in time to see the Charger continue straight on rather than follow me.
It was unnerving to be followed, but I was relieved that he didn’t follow me right up to Cee Cee’s store. I parked around back and went up to her apartment.
When I entered, the smell of left-over gumbo hit me right away, and my stomach started to growl—gumbo was always better the next day. She was watching TV and gave me a big smile when I came in.
“Hey, my baby! Supper will be done in a little while. I hope you don’t mind it being a little early tonight. I’m going somewhere later.”
“I’m going to gain so much weight by the time I leave here.”
She laughed. “Good! Your maw maw will know I took good care of you. So, how did it go today?”
I sighed and took a seat next to her on the couch. “I don’t think I’m doing such a good job.”
She looked at me sympathetically and patted my knee. “You’ll get it, baby. Just need a lot of practice. Miles know that.”
“He seemed pretty disappointed.”
“That ‘cause he too much a perfectionist. You’ll get it,” she repeated.
After supper, Cee Cee left, saying she was going to meet with a client and would be back in a couple of hours, but didn’t say where she was going. I chose not to be nosy.
I locked the door after she left and did the dishes even though she said she’d be angry with me if I lifted a finger around here. But I didn’t like being a bad guest, so I looked through her record collection and pulled out a Sam Cooke album—his greatest hits collection. I took the record out of the sleeve and carefully placed it on the player that Cee Cee kept next to her altar. I put the needle on the first groove and then I put the record sleeve on the coffee table. As the music started, I placed the dishes in the sink and filled it with dishwashing liquid and hot water.
While I let the dishes soak, I took a shower. By the time I got out, got dressed and dried my hair, the record was over, leaving just the white noise of the needle at the end of the record and the hiss of the speakers. I went back into the living room to restart the record and then finish the dishes.
When I went into the room, I stopped in my tracks. Something wasn’t right. I took a quick glance around, trying to figure out what was wrong. The door was still locked. The dishes were in the sink, the faucet dripping every few seconds. The TV was off. I remembered that we turned it off before supper. The chairs were still pushed under the table which I had done before I gathered the dishes.
The music.
I picked up the album sleeve from the couch and looked at the tracks. I added up the track lengths on side A, and it came out to roughly forty minutes. I quickly ran through my activities after I put on the record. It took me less than five minutes to put the dishes in the sink and run the water. I spent about ten minutes in the shower and another fifteen or so drying my hair and getting into my night clothes. That was only about thirty minutes.
Maybe the record skipped?
I liked that explanation. I took the needle off the record, picked it up and examined it. Not a scratch on it. Something else occurred to me, something that made me tense up.
The album sleeve. It was on the couch. I had left it on the coffee table. I started to tremble, frightened, searching my mind for any possible explanation. Was I mistaken? Did I put it on the couch before I put the dishes in the sink? No. I put it on the coffee table. As soon as I took out the record, I put the sleeve on the coffee table. Cee Cee! Maybe she came back to get something, picked it up to look at it and put it on the couch.
It was the only logical explanation I could allow. Just the same, I grabbed a butcher knife from the kitchen drawer and started going through each room, not caring about how foolish I probably looked. I searched in closets and under beds. I was shaking badly the whole time, but managed to perform a thorough search. When I deemed the apartment clear, I started to feel very silly. I put down the knife and called Cee Cee on her cell. I just got her voice mail. I left her a quick message, asking her if she had come back to the apartment while I was in the shower. I hung up and put the TV on while I finished the dishes, every now and then looking over my shoulder.
By the time I was done with the dishes, it was nearly 7:00 PM. Cee Cee still hadn’t called me back. I picked up my phone to call her again but decided not to bug her. I called Clothilde instead. Lyla answered the phone and hearing her voice comforted me.
“Hi, Aunt Leigh!”
“Hey, sweetness. How’s it going over there?”
“Good. Hey, guess what?”
“I give up.”
“I healed another animal today.”
I should have been happy for her, but I found myself feeling jealous. She was healing animals left and right while I could barely get my hand beyond lukewarm. “Oh, really?” I said, trying to sound happy for her.
“Uh huh. A cat. It got hit by a car, and it was all bloody and gross and—”
“Lyla, I don’t need to hear the details, okay? But I’m glad you fixed it and made it better.”
“Maw Maw Clo said I can keep it if I take good care of it and it stays outside so it can catch mice.”
“Well that was nice of her.”
“You want to talk to her? She’s right here.”
“Yes, please.”
“Okay. Love you! Bye!”
“Love you, too.”
I heard her hand the phone over, and Clothilde’s voice came through with an edge of warning. “You been behaving for Miss Cee Cee?”
“Yes, ma’am. In fact I just did the dishes for her.”
“Good girl. And how’s the training going?”
“Not so good.”
“Keep trying. You’ll get better.”
“Yeah, that’s what Cee Cee keeps telling me.”
“Mais, it’s true!”
“Yes, Ma’am,” I said. “That was nice of you to let Lyla keep that cat,” I added.
“I’ve been noticing too many mice around here.”
“Well, I’m going to let you go. I just called to say hi.”
“Okay. Call if you need anything. Good night, Leigh Leigh.”
“Night Maw Maw.”
We hung up, and I continued to watch TV until Cee Cee got back home. She told me she saw I called but couldn’t figure out how to access her answering machine. I asked her if she meant voice mail, and she laughed and said that’s what it was.
“What’s the matter? You look a little spooked,” she said. I told her about what happened with the album sleeve. She looked perplexed and then said, “I wouldn’t worry about that. Sometimes we trick ourself into thinking things happened that didn’t. You prob’ly put it on the couch and forgot.”
“I didn’t forget. What if it’s a ghost or something?” I whispered. “What if it’s Les Foncés?”
“Trust me, baby, they can’t get in here. I have a special protection around my apartment. Nothing bad can come into my house. I’d like to see it try!” She laughed, but I still felt uneasy. “Now you had just put it on the couch and forgot.” She smiled reassuringly.
I smiled back and decided to drop it, thinking she could have been right, even though that annoying part of my psyche kept telling me I knew good and well that album sleeve was on the coffee table.
About an hour later I got ready for bed. I brushed my hair and remembered something else. My hairbrush was on the bed when I got out of the shower. Before I went in, my brush was on the nightstand. I set the brush down on the nightstand, feeling chills run down my spine. Could I maybe have left it on the bed and forgot? I wanted to tell Cee Cee, but decided not to. I was feeling crazier by the minute.
I peeked und
er the bed and in the closet once more before I closed my bedroom door and locked it. I decided to sleep with the lamp on, though I found it hard to fall asleep. I tossed and turned for about twenty minutes, my mind racing. I flipped over my pillow, and something flew onto the floor. I looked over the side of the bed to see a small black bag with draw strings. I picked it up off the floor and thought for a second if I should open it. I had forgotten that Cee Cee said she put something under my pillow to help me sleep better. I carefully untied the strings and opened the bag. There were seven small items in it: some holly, a sprig of mimosa, a marigold petal, a silver coin, a piece of amethyst, a small hunk of rose quartz, and a black plastic charm made to look like three letter Zs.
I gazed at it curiously, wondering how any of those things could make me sleep better. I shrugged, tied the bag closed and put it back under my pillow. It took me nearly an hour to fall asleep. I slept with the lamp on the whole night and woke up refreshed, wondering how I could ever have doubted Cee Cee’s power.
7
Rough Ride
When I arrived at Miles’, I saw Ruby’s car parked in the driveway. After the long day I had with Miles yesterday, seeing both he and Ruby today was not something I was exactly happy about. I rolled my eyes but forced a happy face as I got out my car and knocked on the front door.
When the door opened, Miles was on the other side with Ruby behind him in the foyer. They stepped outside with me, and Miles closed the door behind him. She had a sour look on her face.
“There’s been a change of plans today,” he said to me. “Instead of going to the convent to train, I need you to help Ruby look for the mask today.” I glanced at Ruby. She was staring off into the distance, clearly displeased with Miles’ request.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go to the convent? I need a lot more training. Besides, you don’t really need two people to go to an antique store. I mean not that I minded going with Nadia yesterday—”
“Your training can wait a day. The mask is more important right now. I would prefer you to go in pairs.” His tone indicated that was the end of the conversation. “Now if you’ll excuse me, ladies, I have to get going.” He left in his car, and I awkwardly stood with Ruby in the driveway, waiting for her to tell me what we were doing.
“We’re taking my car. Get in,” she said, unlocking the doors, taking special care not to look at me.
She took us to Highway 90 and drove us across the bridge leading to New Orleans’ West Bank and into Algiers, a neighborhood that felt like a small, working-class town with warehouses and rail tracks and older generation locals who spoke with a New York, Brooklynese accent, most often leaving the “r” off the end of a word. Algiers was not without its appeal, including the old courthouse, a hulking Romanesque structure on Morgan Street. Most of the charm, however, resided with the Algerines themselves.
Ruby came to a stop in front of three-story apartment building that looked like it was built in the ‘70’s, but also looked well-maintained. She parked on the street, not bothering to feed the parking meter. A few people waved at Ruby from the porches of their small, weather-beaten homes. She returned their waves, and they eyed me a little suspiciously.
Ruby and I walked up to the front door of the building, and she punched in some numbers on the dented call box. After a few moments of Ruby looking aggravated with the wait and the awkward silence between us, the voice of a young woman came on the intercom.
“Yeah?” she said with a light Brooklynese accent.
“It’s me,” said Ruby.
“A’ight.”
A buzzer sounded, and Ruby opened the now unlocked door. We entered and walked up to the third floor because the tiny elevator was out of order. Once on the third floor, we continued down a barren hallway with old carpeting that was worn thin in a few places, but otherwise looked clean. We stopped at apartment 318, and I could hear a baby crying on the other side of the door. The door was ajar, and Ruby walked right in and set her bag on a little table next to the door. I followed, closing the door behind me.
“Hey, girl,” said the woman inside. She was short, about five feet, five inches tall, with curvy hips and streaks of dark red in her jet black hair. She was pretty, maybe twenty-seven years old. She was in the kitchen running some water in a skillet that had remnants of scrambled eggs. Beside her, in a high chair, was a crying, adorable baby boy who looked to be about a year old.
When Ruby saw the baby, she did something that shocked me: she smiled. And then she softly squealed and walked up to him with her arms out.
“He just finished eating. He just started fussin’ a minute ago,” said the woman as she dried her hands on a dish towel draped over the back of the high chair.
Ruby gently lifted the baby boy into her arms and held him up, looking him in his eyes. “What’s the matter? Did you miss me? Did you miss me?” His cry died down to a whimper, and Ruby laughed at him. He grinned at her and immediately started to pull at her Tiger’s eye pendant around her neck. She cradled him against her hip and held the pendant up for him to see. “Yes! That’s Auntie’s necklace! You can’t have that right now. No, you can’t,” she said sweetly to him, still smiling.
“How ya doin’? I’m Tonya,” said the woman, extending her hand.
“Leigh. Nice to meet you,” I replied, shaking her hand.
“Can I get y’all something to eat?”
“No, I’m good, but thanks,” I said.
“Already had breakfast,” said Ruby, still smiling at the baby. She grabbed the dish towel, draped it over her shoulder, walked off with him to the living room and sat in a rocking chair.
“You have a beautiful baby. How old is he?” I asked.
She beamed. “Thank you! Devon’s fourteen months.” She gestured toward the living room. “Let’s go sit.”
I followed her into the other room, and we sat on the sofa. The living room was very lived-in with baby toys scattered across the floor and a neatly folded pile of laundry in a basket waiting to be put away, sitting on another chair. Behind me, draped across the top of the sofa, was a lovely hand-made quilt.
Ruby had Devon leaning against her with his head over the dish towel. She gently patted his back, softly humming a song in his ear as she rocked. He soon belched, and Ruby grinned. “There you go!” she said, pulling him back up and wiping his mouth with his bib. He giggled at her, and she started to bounce him on her knee. This had him laughing hysterically.
“He’s usually a nightmare for me, but as soon as she gets here, he lights up like a Christmas tree,” said Tonya, shaking her head. “I think she put a spell on him on something.” She laughed.
“No spell,” said Ruby. “He just loves his Auntie Ruby, don’t you, Devon?” Devon replied by giggling loudly. Then he motioned that he wanted to be put down. She set him down on the carpet, and he started playing with some of his toys.
Maybe I was wrong about Ruby. Maybe.
Ruby got up and grabbed her bag by the door. She came back to the living room and pulled out a little brown satchel tied with string. “Here,” she said to Tonya, handing it to her.
She took it. “Thanks.” Tonya noticed my interested glance at the satchel. “Love potion,” she said, a little embarrassed. “Devon’s daddy’s long gone, so I’ve been eyeing this guy I work with.”
“Oh,” I said, smiling politely. “Does it work?”
“It did for Devon’s daddy,” she laughed. “But it’s just for attraction. It’s not guaranteed to keep ‘em.”
“Make sure to follow my directions,” said Ruby. “That’s the last bit of it I have. I can’t make any more ‘till September.”
“Yes, ma’am,” teased Tonya.
“So,” said Ruby, “What you got for me?”
“Oh!” Tonya set the little satchel on the coffee table and leaned back on the sofa. “So anyway, me and Carter were sitting out at that new café I was telling you about. There was this white man that come up to this woman next to us. He starts talking
to her and asking her about what she wants out of life and things like that.”
A grinning Devon went up to Ruby and proudly showed her a toy lion. “Oh, look at him!” she said to him. “You like that mean ol’ lion?” Devon laughed and went back to his toys. Ruby motioned for Tonya to continue.
“Anyway, I couldn’t help hearing what they were saying, so he keeps talking to her about how her life could be better by joining his Mardi Gras krewe. The Krewe of—what was it I told you?”
“Grigori,” said Ruby. I arched an eyebrow, but Ruby paid me no attention. The Grigori, these Watcher Angels that Nadia was telling me about, had a Mardi Gras krewe. That still seemed a little comical to me that these ancient, powerful beings have an organization of people who ride floats in Mardi Gras parades.
“Yeah. That’s it. The Krewe of Grigori,” said Tonya. “So, he’s telling her how everything in her life would be better if she joined him. I mean, he didn’t say it exactly like that, but that’s what he was getting at, you know. Now I never heard of a Mardi Gras krewe recruiting people like that.”
“What else did he say?”
“She sounded interested. He told her that they were going to have a Mardi Gras ball at their house and then gave her directions.”
“You know where the Grigori House is?” asked Ruby.
“Pontchartrain Beach. The old fairgrounds.”
“U.N.O. has a research center out there with the Navy.”
“Not the whole area. Keep going down that road a few miles and you’ll see a big house with a lot of land that expands away from the original fairgrounds and continues along the beach.”
“Anything else?”
“She said she would love to go, and then he gave her a ticket and told her to bring a guest.” Tonya thought for a moment. “You know it was funny because he just talked to her. There were about twelve people outside at the café, but he went straight for her.”
Nancy K. Duplechain - Dark Trilogy 02 - Dark Carnival Page 6