by Emery, Lynn
“O great one, good mother. I come to you with bowed shoulders and a bruised spirit. My enemies have sorely tried me; have caused pain and suffering to my beloved ones; have taken from me my worldly goods and my gold; have spoken meanly of me causing friends to lose faith in me; O great one, woman goddess of majestic power, I beg that this I ask for my enemies come to pass:
That the south wind shall scorch their bodies and make them wither and shall not be tempered to them. That the north wind shall freeze their blood, numb their muscles and that it shall not be tempered to them. That the west wind shall blow away their life’s breath and make their bones to crumble. That the east wind shall make their minds grow dark and their sight shall fail. Let agony and despair be their constant companion.” The voice took on a sing-song quality as it grew louder. Folds of the full robe rippled as the figure began to quiver in agitation.
“I ask that their farthest generations will not intervene for them before the great throne. I pray that their children be feeble of mind and paralyzed of limb. That death and disease forever be with them and they writhe in agony. That the sun shall not shine upon them with benevolence but instead beat down with burning rays to shrivel their bodies. That the moon shall not give them peace but shall mock them causing shriveling their minds. That their friends shall deceive them and cause them loss of gold and silver. That their enemies prevail and their cries for mercy go unheeded. That all about them be pestilence, destruction, and bloody torturous death. These things I ask of you, Great Mother, because they have dragged me in the dust, destroyed my peace, broken my heart, and caused me to cry out in pain. Let it be, O great one. So let be written, so let it be done.”
Reaching out to grasp its head, the speaker stuffed straw into the nostrils of the goat as it struggled. The gleam of a large steel blade flashed and the animal dropped to its knees, then fell prone with its mouth open. Slips of paper were thrust into the gushing wound at its throat. The broom was dipped in the blood and the ground swept vigorously the length of the twitching body. The sweeping went on as long as the blood flowed. With a sharp stick, an outline of the sheep was drawn. Being careful not to touch the sheep, pairs of hands holding gardening spades began to dig so that ground under it dropped the body down into the growing hole. Nine sheets of paper were laid upon the carcass then dirt was heaped upon it. A white candle was jabbed into the grave. The twigs of the dying fire popped and crackled as the group straggled back to the waiting cars.
“You know what to do.” The robed figure spoke to two others who nodded their assent.
Chapter 12
Quentin paced up and down in front of the couch where LaShaun sat serenely sipping mint iced tea. For twenty minutes she had attempted to arouse him to no avail. He was too preoccupied, too overwrought.
“That audit will show money has been diverted from several accounts for payments to non-existent companies for non-existent services. Not to mention, showing transfers to non-existent accounts.” Quentin chewed on his fingernails.
“Make up an excuse to delay it.”
“I’ve tried. The old man doesn’t listen to me. He acts like I’m not even there, discussing business details with everyone but me. The old bastard!”
“Well, you have to admit some of the things you do don’t exactly inspire trust and confidence in your business decisions.” LaShaun shook the glass and watched the ice twirl inside.
“He’s never given me a fair chance or the authority to make real decisions. I’ve been sabotaged at every turn.”
“Oh really, Quentin. You have made a few, shall we say, boo boos?”
“Shut up!” Quentin pulled her roughly from the couch shaking her. “You got me into this with your demands, your blackmail.” His fingers dug deeply into her arms.
“Calm down, lover.” LaShaun spoke soothingly.
“I’ve been up all for three nights in a row trying to figure a way out. If the old man finds out I’ve been using company money to buy drugs, he’ll— there is no telling what he’ll do.” Quentin released her and resumed pacing.
“What do you care with the money you’ve made so far? You have what you wanted.” LaShaun stood in front of him causing him to stop pacing. “You have the millions you need to start your own company. You have the contacts to get it going. Let him find out.”
“Are you nuts? He would cut me off without a cent from the Trosclair fortune. I could wind up in prison for the things I’ve done.” Quentin raked shaking hands threw his hair.
“No he won’t. Stop and think!” She grabbed his hands forcing them down to his sides. “For generations your family has been obsessed with the right of direct descendants to the Trosclair fortune. No matter what he says, he won’t cut off his only grandson. He hasn’t yet, has he? No. Claude Phillip Trosclair is too proud of his bloodline. And he will never see you go to prison, not even charged. Claude will never see the family name disgraced by such a scandal. Sure he may tie the money up into a trust that gets doled out to you, but so what? You said yourself, Clayton has ambitious associates. You might bribe the attorney into making it vulnerable to attack later on. Think it through.”
“I don’t know, the old goat can be unpredictable sometimes.” Quentin resumed chewing his fingernails.
“Listen to me, all we have to do is examine all the possibilities and have a plan of action for each one.” LaShaun took his hands again. Bringing them to her lips, she began flicking her tongue along his knuckles.
“What about your friend, Savannah St. Julien. I’d like to see her pay and pay dearly. Her and that father of hers, too.”
“I’ve already made plans for them both. Dark horrors await the St. Julien clan.” LaShaun laughed deep within her throat.
“Such as? Tell me.” Quentin’s breath quickened.
“The warnings I’ve been leaving for the uppity bitch will seem like love tokens compared to what comes next. She’ll go right over the edge. And take her loving father with her.”
“But we have to do something about my grandfather, damn him. This could all be solved if the old man would just drop dead.” Quentin murmured. His eyes narrowed as he watched her hands move down his stomach.
“As I said, all possibilities can be explored.”Stepping back, she allowed her robe to fall open. Her brown body still glistened from the scented oil she had massaged into her skin earlier. Letting it drop to her feet, she used her palms to caress herself.
“You know how I am when I get tensed up like this.” Quentin gripped her arms tightly, his fingers digging into her.
“Yes.” Stroking her hips against his, she could feel his excitement.
“And you know what I need.” Quentin’s voice was raspy. LaShaun, her eyes gleaming, turned without answering and went into the bedroom. Quentin shrugged off his robe before joining her.
*****
Savannah worked feverishly day and night. It was the only way she could keep thoughts of Paul from crowding out everything else. It was the only activity that made being without him somewhat tolerable. At least, less painful. Not that the feeling of a great yawning hole in the center of her being ever really went away. But work is like all narcotics, she gradually needed more to numb the hurt. Because of this, she went to the shop early and stayed late. Mercifully she was thrown into the frenetic preparation of getting a line of Tante Marie’s seasonings, Creole sauces, and recipes on a national shopping channel. Savannah had gotten the idea during all those long, lonely nights of watching late night television. Through her tenacious efforts to make contacts, she had finally won an interview with one of the buyers.Charice stopped in one night while Savannah was working late at the shop. She shook her head in wonder at the projected sales figures from the marketing department of the shopping network. “Damn, I’m scared of you. Y’all are going to be millionaires real soon.““We did a limited test sale in just a few of their markets. Our products sold out in two hours! This is just the beginning.” Savannah began counting the stacks of boxes ready for shipment the n
ext day to the shopping channel’s distribution center.
“Savannah—”
“We hired four people down at the pecan shelling plant. Mr. Benoit was nice enough to rent us the space to pack Tante Marie’s products. Take that Mr. Claude Trosclair. We can find other ways to put people back to work.” Savannah thumped down a package of red beans seasoning into an open box.
“Savannah, this is all well and good but…” Charice said putting a hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t,” Savannah pleaded.
“You’re going at top speed constantly, working like crazy. You’re pulled as tight as a piano wire. I’m afraid you might snap under the strain.”
“It may seem that way, but working like this is therapy for me. Get that worried look off your face.” Savannah pinched her cheek playfully.
“I’ve just never seen you like this before. I hate to see you hurting.”
“Hey, this isn’t going to kill me. Besides, Poppy and I had a long talk about Mama. He told me things he’d kept pent up inside for years. We’re closer than ever. So, while one relationship may have bombed, another one has blossomed in a beautiful new way. I feel like I’ve got my father back finally.”
“That’s great, fantastic. But it’s not the same.”
“I’ve made up my mind not to be dragged along by what other people do. I’m going to take control of my life like I started to do when I left Clayton, Briggs, and Schuster. No more distractions. I’m working on Project Me.”
“Go, girl. Now come on, it’s after seven o’clock. Why don’t you call it a night. By the looks of it you’ve done the work of three men in here.” Charice looked around her at the neatly stacked boxes, typed price lists, and recently organized shop.
“No, I want to finish up a few more things. I won’t be too much longer,” Savannah said picking up a ledger. “Besides, when Poppy gets back from market in New Orleans, there will be tons of extra work for us.”
“It’s late and hardly anybody is around here. With all the stuff that’s been happening lately, you shouldn’t be in here alone.”
“Go on home. I know you have to pick up the dynamic duo and get them ready for bed.”
“Ain’t that the truth. It’ weird, if they don’t get to bed by eight thirty I catch hell trying to get them to unwind for another two hours at least.” Charice shook her head.
“Well by my watch, your time is running out.” Savannah laughed.
“Oh wow, you’re right. Promise not to stay too long?” Charice paused with her hand on the door knob, a slight frown on her face.
“Go home, please. I’ll be in bed before you at this rate.”
Making sure to lock the door behind her, Savannah plunged back into reviewing the figures. She was more than pleased with what she was finding as the whirring of the adding machine produced a printout of the profits. Satisfied, she began projections on how well Antoine’s wooden carvings might do. Savannah had the idea of offering them as numbered and signed limited edition pieces on the shopping channel. Two hours passed quickly as she became engrossed in her tasks.
A thump followed by the creaking of wood seemed to echo in the quiet shop. Savannah left the tiny office thinking maybe her father was at the front door. Seeing no one, she decided it was as good a time as any to take one last break before finishing up. She stretched, her muscles stiff from sitting for two hours bent over paperwork. Pushing the last few boxes into the store room she heard a soft rustling sound behind her. She whirled around, her heart beating hard. Cautiously, she took slow deliberate steps back into the shop. Noticing that the light in the office was out, she began to tremble.
“Don’t be stupid, probably just an old light bulb went out,” Savannah chided herself.Still she checked the front door to make sure it was locked. Sighing deeply after finding that it was, she giggled nervously with relief. That relief evaporated when she found that the light bulb was missing from the desk lamp. The wall switch for the overhead light had been broken for weeks and T-Leon hadn’t gotten a chance to fix it with all the new orders coming in. Fumbling in the dark, Savannah searched a file drawer for the package of extra light bulbs. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the light behind her blink out. For a few heartbeats she froze in place, too frightened at what she might see if she turned around. All of the nightmare visions that had terrorized her for the past few months flooded back at that moment. Gripping the desk, she fought to steady herself and think clearly. If someone were in the shop, her exit that way was cut off. Cautiously she moved to the back door feeling her way along in the dark, trying not to make any noise. Suddenly her knees banged against something hard and she fell forward. Not all of the boxes would fit in the storeroom, so she had stacked them high in the office against the only clear wall; which effectively blocked the back door.
With a soft cry, Savannah moved back to the desk. Her hands swept the desk top and in her haste to find it, she knocked the phone to the floor away from her. Now unconcerned about being silent, she moved quickly in the direction of the dial tone from the receiver. As she bent over frantically searching the darkness, a large hand covered her mouth. She was roughly pulled back into the office. The door leading into the shop slammed shut cutting off even the faint glimmer from the street light outside the large front window.
“Your soul belongs to us now, p’tite fils.” A husky whisper close to her ear sent shivers through her.
A strangled laugh sounded to her right and she felt hands roaming her body. Fingers plucked at her clothes trying to find a way to open her blouse. Savannah struggled to get free, clawing at the hands over her mouth. She bit down with all her might tasting sweaty skin. Letting out a high pitched wail, her captor let go.
“What the—” The other voice shouted in surprise.
“Goddamn wench bit me, man!”
Before they could react, Savannah bolted around the voices. Groping madly, she found the door knob and yanked open the door. As she headed towards the faint light of the street lamp outside, she crashed into a wide display case.“Come on back, honey.” A voice came from her left.
“We ain’t done with our party. I might forgive you for bitin’ me if you real sweet to me.” Another voice came from her right.
“Yeah, be sweet to us.” The first voice now came from somewhere in front of her.
Savannah still tried to make it to the front door, but strong hands clutched her. His grip tightened as she struggled to break free.
“Since you like it rough, I’m gonna give you what you want.” Hot, fetid breath brushed her cheek. His hold loosened as his hands squeezed her breast.
Savannah used both arms to push up and out, breaking free. Running blindly, she dashed away only to realize with horror that she was back in the office.
“We back where we started, little girl.”
“Yeah, and we gonna have our party right here.”
Two dark shapes loomed in the doorway, blocking any means of escape. Savannah backed away from them, she bumped into the desk. Suddenly, the six inch blade she used to open boxes was in her hand.
“Get away from me!” she screamed as she slashed wildly in the dark.
“Fi de putain!“The curse rang out followed by a grunt of pain. Savannah could feel the blade connecting with bodies. She heard fabric ripping as she swung savagely in circles. The enclosed space that had been their means of capturing her now became their torture chamber. With loud banging and shouts they searched frantically for the door.
“I’m cut Teedy, man. Oh Lord, get me outta here!”
“This bitch done gone crazy! Yeow!”
With a crash, the door flew open. In a mindless state of fury, Savannah continued her rampage striking out at any movement near her.
“Freeze! Everybody freeze!” A huge circle of light appeared.
“Savannah? Is my daughter in there?” Antoine yelled above the clamor.
“Daddy, I’m here,” Savannah cried out as the light in the shop came back on.
“C
ome outta here, come on,” Sheriff Triche closed a beefy fist on one man’s arm. He motioned a deputy behind him to grab his groaning, bleeding accomplice.
“My poor baby. Oh, cher.” Antoine hugged and kissed Savannah.
“Oh, Poppy.” Savannah, now spent, went limp against him. She sobbed uncontrollably.
“My little girl. It’s all right. They can’t hurt you now.” Antoine spoke in a soothing voice.
“Hurt her? By the looks of it, dey oughta be glad we got here to save dem. Mon dieu! Look like a buzz saw got hold of dere asses! ‘Scuse my language, ma’am.”
“Thank God you came.” Drying her eyes, Savannah took a shaky deep breath. She was calmer now but still clung to her father. “How did you know?”
“Charice called for you. Her and Marie got worried you still wasn’t home. ‘Bout that time I drove up and we tried callin’ the shop. When the operator told me the phone was off the hook, I decided to call Sheriff Triche. With all been goin’ on, I didn’t wanna take no chance.” Antoine kissed her forehead. His tender expression turned hard when the deputy approached dragging along a scruffy man.