by Emery, Lynn
“A boy.” Savannah bite her lip remembering the lonely pangs of a little girl for a brother she would never know.
“Therese got desperate to get pregnant again when the doctor said there was no reason she shouldn’t do fine the next time. Folks was sayin’ Francine and Monmon Odette was burnin’ candles on Therese. Therese got pale, couldn’t sleep, and cried all the time. When she did get pregnant with you, I was worried she was gettin’ too weak. But she had you without too much trouble. At first I thought things would be okay. Then you turned out to be a sickly baby, colic, high fevers. We was up all night with you cryin’ night after night. Therese was beside herself. No matter how old Doctor Butler tried to tell her you was gone be all right, she got to sayin’ it was her fault. Sayin’ that Monmon Odette took her first child, now she was gone take this one, too. Her health went down. She got to where she wouldn’t leave you alone for a second. She stayed up all night watchin’ you even though your crib was in our room. This went on right up until she died.” Antoine rubbed his face with both hands as he moaned softly once.
“Poppy,” Savannah leaned against his knees hugging them as she had all those years ago when she had been too young to understand completely. She felt a cold fear work it’s icy fingers up her spine.“What killed her.““Aneurysm on the brain Doc Butler said.”
“But folks say it was voodoo. Mama was slowly driven insane then killed by Francine in revenge.” Savannah’s voice trembled.
“Now you listen to me, the autopsy showed your Monmon had Lupus. Doc Butler said it attacks the body like that. He said most likely the disease, Lupus, weakened her arteries.” Antoine pulled her away to look her straight in the eyes. “Your mama was sick for a long time and we didn’t know it. That was probably why she lost the first baby.”
“But the gossip—” Savannah was stunned by this explanation that she had never heard before.
“Was nothin’ but foolish superstition.”
“But why didn’t you tell me this long ago? Why didn’t Tante Marie say something?”
“It was my fault she didn’t see a doctor, maybe even check into a hospital for tests. I knew wasn’t no voodoo makin’ her get sick. There were times…” Antoine’s voice broke momentarily, “There were times I fussed at her. Told her she was bein’ silly lettin’ Francine and Monmon Odette make her believe that nonsense. Maybe if I’d been a little more patient. I closed up. Whenever I tried to talk about to you, to anybody, the words would stick in my throat.”
“You couldn’t have known.” Savannah put her arms around his neck. Pressing her cheek to his, their tears blended.
“I tried to tell them all, including Marie, but back then folks didn’t really understand somethin’ like Lupus. Voodoo they could understand. That Monmon Odette made Therese take sick and die, that they understood. Didn’t matter what name the doctor give it. Me, I was out of my mind over losin’ Therese. I didn’t have the strength or will argue, to do much of anything. I just crawled into some dark corner of my soul. It was all I could do not to scream out loud at the thought of livin’ without her every day for the rest of my life.”
“Her disease would have progressed no matter what you did because there’s no cure for Lupus. And you fell in love like any young man. From what I’ve heard about Francine, she was already using too much alcohol and had emotional problems long before that.” Savannah cupped his face in her hands.”
A lot of the things Francine done was outta hurt. She wanted somebody to care ‘bout her. I coulda treated her better. And I shoulda helped your mama more. I let ‘em both down.” Antoine hung his head.
“No, Poppy. You couldn’t have done any more. It wasn’t your fault Francine or Mama died,” Savannah cradled him in her arms.
“Oh, cher. I still miss her so.”
“It’s time for both of us to let ourselves heal.“For another hour they held each other, talking about the past, and began to mend.
*****
“What are our options?” Claude sat in the large executive leather chair, elbows on the large conference table, his long fingers forming a steeple in front of his face. He looked at the men seated around him. He had summoned Devin, Singleton, Quentin and Paul to Batton Chemical to plot their next move.
“At this point, try to convince the judge that you acted in good faith and not to impose the maximum fines,” Devin said.
“Why don’t we appeal?” Quentin slapped the table.
“Because the trial isn’t over yet. We’re into the penalty phase where he considers how long you were operating without the proper permits, what kinds of emissions occurred—”
“This is outrageous. He was supposed to be advising us on this.” Quentin pointed an accusing finger at Paul.
“As you eloquently stated, you didn’t need me. You were taking advice from your own chemical engineer. Besides, I was not hired by Batton Chemical, and certainly not to give you advice.” Paul spoke in a low cool tone. He sat opposite Claude at end of the table away from the others.
“Be quiet, Quentin. How bad is it, Mr. Martin?” Claude said, his voice tight with irritation. He continued to stare ahead.
“If he finds that the plant has been operating without the proper permits since it opened, the fines could be enormous. As high as 1.5 billion dollars.” Devin consulted figures in front of him.
“Sweet Jesus.” Singleton turned white as a sheet and began mopping his brow with a large white handkerchief.
“Is that a real possibility?” Claude still sat as before. He wore the steely look of a general considering which battle plan to follow. Clearly he had no intention of surrendering.
“I think Judge Duplessis will take into account the jobs involved, and again we could make a case for confusing regulations, play up the feud that went on between the state DEQ officials and the feds over the permits. But you still could be looking at millions.”
“Then let’s begin to prepare for either outcome.” Pressing a button on the phone at his elbow, he barked into the intercom. “Elizabeth? Get our accounting firm on the line. Then put in a call to Clayton in Shreveport. No offense young man, but I want everything that hugely expensive law firm has to offer.”
“By all means. In fact, he should be expecting your call since I talked to him this morning.” Devin nodded crisply. He began gathering other notes and typed documents to be reviewed in preparation for questions from his boss.
“The accountants? Why are you calling them?” Quentin blinked rapidly.
“Because my dear boy, if hefty fines are going to be assessed against Batton Chemical we need to know where that money is coming from and how to minimize the financial impact on the rest of our interests.” Dismissing him, Claude turned his attention to Singleton. “I’ll expect you to work closely with them to get a full accounting of the every penny.”
“But we don’t know yet that we’ll even have any fines. We might even appeal and win. Get an injunction to stop the fines.” Quentin’s voice rose stridently. “I don’t think—”
“No, you generally don’t. I have neither the time nor patience to argue something that is obviously the best course for us to take now that we are in this position,” Claude said, his tone that of a parent speaking to a trying child.
“But what about putting up a fight? If word gets out that we are doing that it could start a panic with the stockholders, key staff could start jumping ship. I really don’t think this is necessary.” Quentin’s voice cracked.
“Singleton, get in touch with Wilkes in Rio,” Claude, already making plans for his next steps, did not bother to answer him.
For twenty minutes, Claude issued orders, discussed legal strategy once Clayton was put through on a conference call that included the other senior partners, took several overseas calls, and gave instructions to the accountants. Claude even smiled coolly as he plotted to out maneuver his opponents and use the system to his advantage. With Clayton and the accountants, a plan to restructure Batton Chemical began to take shape. P
aul fidgeted and looked for an opening to make his exit. Finally he stood up.
“I’ll be going since your business plans don’t involve me.”
“No, wait.” Claude waved the others to silence seeing Paul heading for the door. “I need you here. We may have some questions about improving operations. Besides, I value your opinion enough that I’d like you to be in on more than just that. Please stay.”
Paul was amazed at the way Claude began to marshal his forces. Once again, Claude showed that he was an astute businessman. He was very much in control of the situation, grasping wide range implications immediately. But watching him, something began to bother Paul after a while. With everything moving so fast, phones ringing, rapid fire conversations, a disturbing new picture of Claude began to take shape.
“Get Ed Legarde on the phone. He told us that those permits would hold up under fire. I thought he had taken care of those state inspectors.”
“Remember Taylor resigned unexpectedly last year as head of the Department of Environmental Quality. The new guy didn’t play ball, I mean appreciate our position fully.” Singleton glanced at Paul uneasily.
“I thought our friend had that under control.” Claude frowned referring to a top state official without naming him even in a small group behind closed doors.
“The new guy’s one of those professors. A real maverick,” Singleton snorted in disgust.
“Dammit, he knows what’s at stake here. He should have laid it on the line for this guy early in the game.” Claude’s fist made a loud bang on the desk top.
“I have another appointment. I’m leaving.” Paul got up abruptly to stride from the room. His body language left no doubt that he would be leaving this time.
“All right, but listen.” Claude rose and crossed to him and placed a hand on Paul’s arm. He stood close to Paul near the door. “We’ll be busy for the next few days. If you’re sure you don’t want to be here could you at least come back by my office maybe Thursday. There are some things we need to discuss. Important things.““Singleton and I are going to be in New Orleans for the next day or so with Babin. I don’t think—” Quentin spoke loudly through clenched teeth.
“I know that, Quentin. Well, will you come back?” Claude squeezed Paul’s arm slightly.
“Yeah, sure. I, uh, should be free then.” Paul felt Claude’s grip on his arm relax. A curious tremor started in his chest seeing the intense look in Claude’s eyes.
“Good, good,” Claude said, his face eased into a smile.
*****
“Oh, Oh. Here it comes.” Sam watched Paul packing boxes, labeling them, arranging them neatly for moving.
“Now are you talking about?” Paul’s eyes swept the trailer for any items that were still to be put away.
In the two weeks since the verdict, Paul had begun his preparations to leave Beau Chene. Since his lease was only from month to month, arranging to move when it was convenient for him was not a problem.
“The old man is going to offer you big money, a bribe to keep your mouth shut.”
“I don’t know anything that would be worth money to him.”
“What about that stuff you heard today?”
“Nothing I heard could be used as evidence that they were doing anything illegal. It was bits and pieces, no names, no details.” Paul lined up boxes along the wall.
“Yeah, but it might be enough to put a sharp investigative reporter or prosecutor on the trail to finding the evidence they’d need.” Sam picked through a basket of fresh fruit then selected a large orange.
“No, I didn’t get the impression that it was anything like that. Besides, if he had been worried about me hearing too much he could have let me leave when I wanted to earlier.”
“Well, just be real careful you don’t let him drag you into his shady deals. Say, you stripped this place clean.” Sam gestured to the bare walls and table tops.
“Might as well. No reason to stay any longer. I’d have gone back to Lafayette two weeks ago except for some loose ends with that last bit of work for the university.” Paul shifted the boxes again.
“Get serious. The only work you were doing for the university was that report on Big River, and it was finished well before the trial,” Sam said.
“They asked me to review some of the research Simmons presented at the trial. They want to study this kiln process to evaluate the usefulness of it. In fact, they want to do a longitudinal study of the aggregate and compare it to health statistics in areas where it’s currently being used.”
“Uh-huh, so hanging around has nothing to do with hoping Savannah might call?” Sam raised an eyebrow at him skeptically.
“Damn right.” The muscles in Paul’s neck went rigid. “She made it clear where she was coming from, too clear.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have assumed her seeing Devin meant that she still has a thing for him.” Sam went to the kitchen sink to wash orange juice from his hands.
“I can’t believe this. You were the one who said she was using me. You were the one who said not to trust her.”
“I didn’t know her back then. Look, all I’m saying is from what I could see, she isn’t that type at all. Savannah said she might see the guy to find out anything she could, she told you that.”
“She told me sure. But she knew I wasn’t crazy about the idea. Waiting until I was out of town tells me she had something to hide.” Paul shoved a couple a boxes so hard there was a loud rattle from inside one of them.
“You didn’t bother to ask her for an explanation before you jumped her case about.”
“From the way they were looking at each other in court that day I testified, I could tell there was more between them than she led me to believe.”
“Now come on—”
“I should have listened to you back then and gone home. Just as well that we have a chance to get in on the work being done on the chemical and oil spill in Kuwait with waste eating microbes. I’ve wasted enough of my time here.”
“You just going to hop on a plane to fly thousands of miles away without at least giving her one more call?”
“You bet. Say, since when did you get so romantic? What happened to `Man, just move on to the next one’?” Paul crossed his arms on his chest.
“Maybe there are times it’s worth the effort. The easy way ain’t always the best way.” Sam stared down as he rubbed his hands together.
“You’re not just talking about me now. What’s up?”
“Nah, I’m trying to help you out. I don’t want to see you miserable.”
“Don’t even try it. Some sweet honey has turned your head clean around. Danielle? Umm, I don’t think…” Seeing Sam squirm, Paul blinked once then slapped his forehead. “Charice? You got a thing going for Charice! I gotta sit down on this one.”
“What’s wrong with Charice?” Sam’s squinted angrily.
“Nothing, she’s a great person. An attractive woman. A wonderful mother of two fine children. You know, what you’ve always described as little short people who drain bank accounts, tie you down, and get in the way?”
Since their days together in college, Sam had been the classic stereotype of a man studiously avoiding romantic commitments. He quickly ditched any woman who showed signs of wanting more than a relaxed dating arrangement. Having grown up in a poor family of twelve children, he swore to never be trapped with such a burden. Paul marveled at his abrupt about face.
“Okay so I’ve been a little wary of taking on responsibility. But this thing snuck up on me. Before I knew it, I was dating her and bouncing them on my knee.”
“Then that’s it. If you’re playing with the kids and liking it, ooo-wee you are hooked.” Paul smirked.
“Why are you enjoying this so much?” Sam demanded.
“Because of all your bragging about how no woman was enough to hold your attention for more than six months. How the only thing a woman with children could do for you is step aside so you could get to the woman without any. Ho, thi
s is too good!”
“All right, have fun. But you never know how lonely you can be until you meet somebody special and then lose her.” Sam leaned forward putting a hand on Paul’s shoulder.
“Forget that. She put on a good act, I admit, but she finally showed her true self. And I’m glad to get the hell away from here.” Scowling, Paul got up and began lining up his belongings for easy removal. “And if I hadn’t told Trosclair that I’d meet him, I’d be on the highway heading home for good right now.”
*****
A procession of five cars snaked through the inky night. They drove on an isolated blacktop road that wound its way deep into bayou country. A road so poorly maintained it forced the cars to move slowly, frequently bouncing over cavernous potholes. Dense vegetation crowded toward them on either side. The hot night air dense with humidity. Crickets and cicadas sang, their chirping as thick as the foliage that hid them. The smell of wet leaves, damp earth was so strong it seemed almost palpable in the atmosphere. No sound came from the occupants of the cars as they looked straight ahead solemnly as if seeing their destination. The lead vehicle, a small truck, turned off onto a dirt path that seemed to have been hacked out of the tangle of palmettos, swamp maple, and oak trees. When the small truck stopped at a large clearing, the cars drove around it forming a circle as they parked. A very tall woman stepped forward and lit a torch. After setting a pile of wood in the center of the clearing ablaze, she proceeded to light tall black candles that were set at the four corners of it. One by one, headlights winked out. A crowd of about twenty-five men and women began to moan softly, some to sway. The light from the fire illuminated dark faces, some with wide eyes as if startled at some fantastic vision before them. Others with eyes half closed, but all with a glazed glassy stare.
A hole had been dug to one side of the miniature bonfire. With shuffling steps, the group began to spread out just inside the lines drawn in the dirt connecting the candles. Suddenly a hooded figure, dressed in a purple satin robe bordered in red with a red sash belt at the waist, drifted from the woods. The figure passed among them with out stretched arms. The purple robe shimmered even in the feeble firelight as the figure began to undulate in time to the moans. At a sharp chopping motion of the arms, all voices fell silent. In the hush that followed, the slap-slap of water could be heard nearby. With a whispered chant, twigs were gathered and formed into a broom. A short stout woman brought forward pine straw. Another soft chant and she handed it to the robed figure. A crate was dragged into the clearing. They pried it open and a goat was led forward to the hole. It stood dazedly in the center of the group. The voices began again in a low chant of bizarre syllables. The figure began to chant more loudly than the others, the female voice rising until all others were drowned out. Soon hers was the only voice heard.