by Emery, Lynn
“Sheriff, this is Teedy Wilson. And this his buddy they call Boo-Man. His real name is Jules Brunet. Real undesirables,” The deputy said glaring at each in turn.
“What is dis here you wearin’? Look like some kinda Halloween outfit.” The Sheriff plucked at the heavy fabric of the black robes the two still wore, though now torn and bloody.
“J’ai rien a dire.” Teedy growled. Yet his eyes were wide with fear.
“So, you gonna exercise your right to keep your mouth shut, huh?” The deputy snorted in disgust.
“We ain’t done nothin’.” Boo-Man muttered, then winced as he tenderly touched a cut to his lip.
“‘Course you ain’t. Dis is all a big misunderstandin’. You boys lost your way tryin’ to find the all night liquor store I guess? Get ‘em outta here.” Sheriff Triche cut off their howls of protest.
“Do we need to come down to the station?” Antoine said, still holding Savannah close to him.
“Won’t take long, I promise.”
Twenty minutes Savannah sat in the local sheriff’s station. With his two prisoners tucked away neatly in cells on the second floor of the old station house, Sheriff Triche played the solicitous host offering them coffee and cracking jokes to help calm Savannah. Antoine had gone back to the shop with one of the deputies to see if anything was missing or there was more evidence.
“Yeah, we got pretty much all we need tonight,” Sheriff Triche said, looking over the two typed statements his deputy had handed him. “Dem two was runnin’ dey mouths ‘til I tried to find out what dey was really up to. Lots of folks mad wid y’all over protestin’ against that plant, yeah.”
“You don’t think they just broke in to steal?” Savannah signed her statement.
“Teedy and Boo-Man don’t break in while nobody ‘round. No, what dey do is to wait ‘til the place empty. Dey sneak in and clean the place out. Seems like dey knew you was in that shop by yourself.”
“You’re right. I guess I was hoping…. And those robes they were wearing.” Savannah rubbed her shoulders as if cold.
“Sure somethin’ funny ‘bout dat, yeah.” Sheriff Triche looked at her thoughtfully.
“Yes,” Savannah said, her eyes flashed with anger.
“Those two ain’t gone tell who put ‘em up to dis. Too scared.” Sheriff Triche shook his head.
“But I think I know,” Savannah replied.
“Dem Rousselles?”
“How do you know about that?”
“I been livin’ in dis town all my life. I been sheriff twenty-two years. Ain’t much I don’t know ‘bout what done happen ‘round here.”
“Like you said, they won’t talk. So there’s nothing you can do.” Savannah rubbed her eyes.
“You let me decide that.”
“I have plans to deal with this.”
“Now I can’t let you take the law in your own hands. Don’t go do nothin’ foolish.” Sheriff Triche shook a warning finger.
“If you mean break the law, then you don’t have to worry. I promise.” Savannah stared straight ahead.
“Now you listen to me—”
“Well, everything all locked up tight. Not too much was damaged.” Antoine came through the station door.
“Please don’t mention what we just talked about to my father. Please,—” Savannah whispered frantically.
“Shush, cher. I know.” Like a kindly old uncle, Sheriff Triche patted her arm in reassurance.
“What y’all sayin’? Ain’t nothin’ else happened since I left?” Antoine became anxious seeing the tense expression on Savannah’s face.
“Oh no. I was just telling the Sheriff thank you.” Savannah smiled.
*****
“You sure you want to do this?” Charice stood well back from the card table set up in Nenaine Shirleen’s small storage shed. She did not like to be too close to the items on it.
“Yes, I’m sick of these games being played on me.”
“Maybe I should go with you.” Charice offered feebly, her voice squeaky with nervousness.
“No, this I have to do by myself.”
“Thought you didn’t believe in this stuff?”
“But they do. I think it’s time I used the same power of the mind they’ve been using against me.”
After a fifteen minute drive to Rousselle Lane, Savannah stood outside the large house with her heart pounding. Her resolve wavered now that she had arrived. The long windows offered no glimpse inside, though they were open. She could see the curtains inside move slightly in the spring breeze. A long porch stretched the length of the house. On it were chairs painted white with gaily colored cushions in them. There were potted plants scattered along the edge of the porch. Standing in the warm sunshine, it was hard to imagine that there was anything in such a tranquil looking home which could generate the fear she felt. Seeing no car and no sign of movement within, Savannah got back into her car to leave.
“Come on and sit wid me on the gallery a while, sha.” Monmon Odette came onto the porch, her feet scraping the wooden floor as she took short careful steps. Choosing the chair nearest the door, she eased down.
“I was just passing this way on some errands—” Savannah got out of the car but stood with the door open.
“You curious ‘bout old Monmon Odette, eh? Been wantin’ to see where we live, ah know.” Monmon Odette nodded to herself. She raised a knarled hand and beckoned for Savannah to come closer.
“Is LaShaun home?” Savannah asked as she climbed the steps.
Monmon Odette ignored her question. “Sit right here,” she said, patting the arm of the chair next to her. She smiled with satisfaction when Savannah sat down. “See on that table, some lemonade. Knowed you was comin, mais yeah.”
“No, thanks.” Savannah was perched stiffly on the edge of her seat.
“Go on now.” Monmon Odette pointed a crooked finger at the picture of pale liquid.
“No, really.” Savannah stared at it with obvious suspicion.
“What? You tink ah put somethin’ in dere, sha? Monmon Odette don’t pull no trick like dat. No? Suit youself.”
“Where is LaShaun?” Savannah resisted the urge to peer into the windows.
“Not here. Off somewhere runnin’ round. She off every other Thursday. Switch turns working on Sundays with Miss Eveline down at dat museum. You didn’t come to see her. Knowed already she wasn’t here.” Monmon Odette shifted so she could get a better look at her. “You is pretty, yes indeed.”
“Thank you.” Savannah fidgeted beneath her scrutiny.
“My Francine was pretty, too. Look here.” Digging into the basket next to her chair, Monmon Odette pulled out faded photographs.
“Look, can’t see so good dem old picture done fade, but her hair was coal black. Hung down her back. See? Skin like warm coffee wid just a bit o’ cream.” Monmon Odette was quiet for several minutes letting Savannah study the picture. “Know what killed her? Broken heart. Sho, dey say she die in dat fire. She die long ‘fore dat.”
“And you blame my father.” Savannah’s back became taut sensing confrontation.
“She loved him so. Tried to tell her she have anybody she want, but no. Got to have Antoine.”
“My father didn’t make her do the things she did,” Savannah said in a firm voice.
“Oh, here come LaShaun. You gone git to visit wid her after all.”
“So, you’ve accepted our invitation? Welcome.” LaShaun said after getting out of the Cadillac, a bitter smile twisting her lips.
“I only—” Savannah stood up.
“Wanted to see if we have a huge black cat, burn incense, and have cobwebs hanging from the rafters. Sorry to disappoint.” LaShaun threw a large canvas bag on the floor. Standing on the top step, she blocked an easy exit.
“I don’t want a fight with you, either of you. My father feels badly about Francine, has for years. He cared for her and really cared that she suffered so. You must believe that. To carry on a grudge because a young man fell
out of love with one girl and in love with another is senseless. They were all children together, but children grow up and infatuations fade away. My father has to learn not to live in the past, as do you.” Savannah tried reasoning with her.The lighting change of LaShaun’s expression from scorn to wrath warned that she could not hope to succeed.“You through with your high tone speech making? Let me tell you something, starting with you everybody in this town has been treating me like trash for years. You with your sappy sweet self, got nerve to come here telling us what we have to do. Your daddy screwed my mama in more ways than one. She wasn’t good enough for the all mighty St. Juliens. Humph! The St. Juliens are nothing but a group of uppity ex-maids and yard men sniffing the ground for the white man’s scraps. Well, honey you got some surprises coming to you. Everybody in Beau Chene is going to be falling over each other to get on my good side.” LaShaun’s eyes blazed as she spat out the words in a rush.
“You’re an even bigger fool than you were when we were kids. Nobody looked down on you until you started shooting off your mouth insulting people because of that ten pound chip on your shoulder.” Her resolve and anger back, Savannah brushed past her to stomp down the steps.
“You no good bitch—” LaShaun growled.
“By the way, those little presents you’ve been leaving around for me?” Savannah threw them on the porch. All were scorched. “Nice try, but don’t get your hopes up. And the next time you send some of your playmates after me, I’ll send them back to you in pieces. If I even think you or you,” Savannah said looking past her to Monmon Odette, “are trying anything like that on me again, I’ll lay something on you so strong you’ll be pissing in your pants for days. Oh, and one more thing. That little party you had a few nights ago in the woods won’t work either.” Savannah’s lip curled in a contemptuous smile.
“Who told you—”
Savannah stretched herself to her full height. Taking a deep breath, she spouted the string of patois Nenaine Shirleen had taught her. She spat three times on the ground. To her amazement, a fine gray mist rose from the ground. The sunlight dimmed for a few seconds, then the mist disappeared as quickly as it had formed.
“Mais Jamais! Go! Go way from here, gal!” Monmon Odette scuttled backwards into the house like a crab.
“Contre la force y a pas de resistance. You cannot fight me and win now.” Savannah spoke calmly.
LaShaun seemed unable to move, her eyes wide and unblinking. Laughing, Savannah pointed first at the house, then at the two women. As if in no hurry, she went to her car. Throwing one last disdainful glance their way, Savannah left.
*****
“What does it mean, Nenaine?” Savannah sat in the sunny kitchen of her godmother. She gazed about her in wonder at how different the world looked now.
“You feel what it mean, cher.” Nenaine nodded slowly.
“Colors look sharper. Conversations, the way people move all have messages deeper than what’s on the surface. You know what I’m saying?” Savannah shook her head as though dissatisfied with her descriptions.
“You seein’ clear now, Savannah.”
“Something weird happened at LaShaun’s house today. I went over there to psyche her out. Then…” Savannah groped for words.
“Then a power came out you wasn’t expectin’, heh? Didn’t even believe.” Nenaine set a cup of herbal tea in front of Savannah and eased her wide hips into the wooden chair next to her.
“Superstition and the power of suggestion, that’s what I would have said six months ago. But now—”
“Voodoo been ‘round long time, yeah. Come from over in Africa. It’s a healin’ thing, cher. To bring you in tune with your spirit. Them old ones in Africa, they understand ‘bout how Le Bon Dieu use nature and spirits to deal with mankind. We what know the true voodoo, know it a religion. Healin’ religion, cher.” Nenaine spoke in a soft, intense way. Her eyes glowed.
“Nothing has ever been said about LaShaun and Monmon Odette using voodoo to heal, always to hurt others.” Savannah frowned as though seeing the two malevolent women before her.
“There’s a good and evil side to everything on this earth. Monmon Odette and her Monmon, on back for generations been using some of the spirits that way, true. Nothin’ but evil come of that, cher. They is a high price to pay. Look at the grief they done had.”
“Then why couldn’t my mama be healed, Nenaine?” Savannah said in a small voice. Her lip trembled.
“I don’t know, child. Done studied it a long time. Sometime we just ain’t gone know the way of God. One thing, Therese soul at rest. We done the ceremony an’ we got the sign. Therese is at rest, cher.” Nenaine covered Savannah’s hand with hers.
“Thank you, Nenaine.” Savannah gripped her hand. Tears flowed down her cheeks, but these were tears of relief. Deep within she sensed the truth of Nenaine’s words and found great comfort knowing that her mother was indeed at peace.
*****
At last Savannah felt free of the cloud if fear that had hovered over her since childhood. Since the confrontation with LaShaun and Monmon Odette, the dark nightmares had ended. So did her dread of unseen forces, of voodoo. Strangely, she felt comfortable knowing that not all things could be neatly defined. She felt connected to these forces in a way she found it hard to explain. Tante Marie and Nenaine had been right all along.
And with Teedy and Boo-Man facing stiff sentences, she felt no human threat hanging over her. She could almost be happy now. Almost. A longing, hollow feeling lingered. Knowing that Paul was still in Beau Chene was even more agonizing. At every turn she expected, wanted to see him. Yet dreaded it, too.
“He’s packing up to leave,” Charice said soon after Savannah answered the phone.
“Who?” Savannah put on her best flippant tone.
“You know who. You really want to let him go like this?”
“For the hundredth time, it’s over. I’m not going to crawl or beg his pardon. And how do you know he’s leaving?”
“Sam told me last night. He’s going back to Crowley then—”
“Fine. Where he goes is his concern, not mine.”
“Just thought I’d give it one more shot.”
“I know you’re trying to help, but it’s no good. Hey wait a minute, what this about you and Sam being together last night?”
“Well…” Charice stammered.
“Well nothing. You pretended like he wasn’t your type, like you didn’t even like him. All the time you were moving in on the poor sucker. Bet you reeled him in before he had a chance to put up even a little bit of a struggle.”
“Honey, he thinks it was all his idea! Which is fine by me. I could tell that if I had shown too much interest, he would have bolted like a jack rabbit. So, I just played it cool. Let him make up his own mind.”
“But you knew he wanted you, girl,” Savannah teased.
“There it is,” Charice twittered.
“Seriously, I’m happy for you. He seems like a really good person.”
“He is. And good with the girls, too.”
“That’s great. Before you say anymore,” Savannah said in a rush cutting her off, “I’m going to be just fine, okay? Now when I see you Saturday I want all of the juicy details, don’t hold anything back.”
Savannah went back into the den after saying goodbye. Despite what she had said to Charice, the reality that Paul was at that moment preparing to leave hit her hard. Once more she turned to work brought home as a way to escape the hurt.
*****
“Can I get you something?” Claude stood at the handsome bar mixing himself a drink.
“No thanks. I’ll be driving tonight,” Paul replied.
Paul took in the large second floor executive office. It was opulent with rich rosewood tables, dark red leather chairs, and a large window overlooking a creek behind the office building. He had only been on the first floor and hadn’t realized that Claude kept this office for himself. There was another elevator leading to this large suite fr
om a covered parking lot behind the building.
“So, you’re leaving then? Singleton had mentioned you might be.” Claude sat in the large chair next to him.
“Well, my work is through. No reason to stay really.” Paul stared out of the window.
“I see.” Claude took a long sip of the amber liquid. “Have you given any thought to the contract? Surely your lawyer has examined it thoroughly enough by now.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“The contract provisions are fine. But my partner and I— we’ve decided we have our hands full already.”
“The money would allow you to hire more people to do the extra work. Think of the contacts you would make.” Claude put the drink down on the low table between them.
“We have contacts now. We’ll expand but in another year or so.”
“This isn’t about being too busy to take on more or not wanting to expand. You’ve been actively seeking new ventures, new technologies to make your services attractive to more companies. You’ll be leaving for Kuwait soon. And you’ve been in touch with…” Claude went to the large desk and opened a brown folder, “A California company called Enviro-Tech about a new type of sponge for cleaning up oil spills.”
“That information isn’t in the company materials we provided to you or the university.” Paul’s brows drew together. “Where did you get it?”
“We did some checking on our own naturally since we wanted more— detail. The point is this contract fits right in with where you want to go. So what’s the real reason for your refusal?” Claude turned.
After a long pause, Paul looked up at him with a stern set to his jaw. “The way you do business.”
“The way we do business is no different from any other large successful corporation in this state, or this country for that matter.” Claude waved a hand dismissing his objection.
“Not all of them, and not mine for sure. Back door deals with politicians and public officials willing to sacrifice the health of their constituents; definitely business practices I want no part of.” Paul said, a hard edge in his voice.
“Don’t be naive or too hasty to pass judgment. Those politicians and public officials are smart enough to know that we are their constituents as well.” Claude sat back down smiling at him indulgently. He was the picture of calm, secure in his position in social order. “Our interests are as valid as a whining group of malcontents who can’t possibly contribute to the economy what we can. They would starve without us.”