Baker's Dozen

by Cutter, Leah

  However, it was still early, and too many drunken tourists stumbled through the Quarter. Jolene bought whisky from the local grocery shop just down the street, and she already had the beads in her purse. Then she went and sat in the back of Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop, drinking plain soda and listening to the piano. It was a little quieter back there. Although everyone was having a good time, singing along with the music, Jolene just wished they’d all go home so she could do her business.

  Finally, after 4 A.M., the bar closed and people drifted away. Jolene walked back up to the lady, her palms sweating even though the night air was cool. The lady still sat there at her table. Jolene wondered how many other people saw her, if anyone without a gift could find her.

  Carefully, Jolene laid three of her six strands of beads on the sidewalk at the lady’s feet. Then she tipped the whisky up, splashing it against the lower part of the wall, trying to avoid the lady’s boots. She spilled some on her fingers and without thinking, licked them. Her face grew pinched at the strong taste, and fire burned from her tongue down, warming her all the way inside.

  When Jolene looked up, the wall had changed. It had taken on a gray color, as well as extended back, as if Jolene now stood at the entrance of a room. A white lady sat primly at a small, round table, pouring herself tea from a blue pot. Her hair was dark brown and her antique gown was made of light purple and gray silk. The beads Jolene had laid on the ground now hung from the back of the lady’s chair. A window in the corner of the room overlooked a busy street. Jolene couldn’t hear the traffic, but she saw the old-fashioned black cars cruising up the street.

  “The whisky is perfect with this,” the lady murmured, finally looking up. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Jolene said, startled.

  “So I suppose you’d like to know something,” the lady asked, looking down on Jolene from her perch. “Something about your future.”

  Jolene tried not to bristle, but be polite instead. “Yes, ma’am. Will I have any kids? Can I?”

  The lady gave a very unladylike snort. “You’ve got all the plumbing you need to get pregnant,” she said.

  “But I can’t hold onto any!”

  The lady tilted her head to the side and looked at Jolene. “There’s a chance you’ll carry a babe. But you’ll have to catch its soul, first.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve told you your fortune,” the lady said, turning in her seat and looking out the window.

  “Not very well!” Jolene sputtered.

  “You asked a question. I answered.”

  Jolene sighed, then considered. “I have more beads,” she said, pulling them from her bag. “Not just glass, either.” She separated the clear strand from the two colored ones. “Crystals.”

  Jolene forced herself to stay where she was when the lady turned back toward her. The lady’s eyes had grown black and wild, like an animal’s. Her smile glistened, and she had too many teeth.

  “Very pretty,” the lady crooned. “Put the beads down and I’ll tell you how to catch a soul.”

  Grandma Loretta’s warnings came back to Jolene. “You tell me first, then I’ll put the beads down.”

  “You’ll just walk away without giving me anything,” the lady said.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Jolene said. “I promise.”

  “Human promises,” the lady sniffed. “Not worth much. Or I wouldn’t still be here.”

  Jolene wanted to ask what had happened. She knew she couldn’t. She couldn’t lose her chance. “I’ll give you these to start with,” she said, holding out two strands, the solid blue string and the string that had the tiger’s-eye pendant. “Then after you tell me, I’ll give you the last one.”

  “Deal,” the lady said, showing her toothy grin. “Give me.”

  Jolene laid the other two strands down on the ground next to the wall, then stood up. She kept the crystal one dangling on her finger.

  The night was still, but suddenly Jolene felt a breeze against her legs. When she looked back down at the sidewalk, the beads were gone.

  “Very nice,” the lady said. “I may just keep these and not tell you anything more,” she added, fingering the tiger’s-eye bead.

  “Not just beads,” Jolene said, gently swinging the remaining necklace on her finger. “Crystals. They throw off rainbows of light. Like diamonds.”

  “Light?” the lady asked mournfully. “Like sunlight?”

  Jolene nodded.

  “I don’t get true sunlight here. Only shadows.” The lady sighed, then said, “You can’t hold onto a child because his or her soul gets stuck in the worlds between. You have to go catch a soul there and bring it home with you.”

  “Do I have to be pregnant first?” Jolene asked, puzzled.

  “No, just swallow it whole,” the lady told her, still fingering the beads on the table before her. “If you hold it in your body, your little one can grab it easily.”

  Swallow a soul whole? Jolene shuddered. “Isn’t there any other way?”

  “Have a baby in one of the bubble worlds.” The lady shrugged. “The problem with that is you don’t know what kind of soul your baby will catch—if it will be human or not.”

  “How do I catch a soul?” Jolene asked, resigned.

  The lady laughed. “It isn’t like hunting some wild boar. It’s mainly a matter of finding an unclaimed one in the bubble worlds.”

  “How do I get there?”

  “I can take you,” said a deep voice beside her.

  Jolene turned quickly, very startled. The professor stood beside her. He wore a seersucker suit, white and blue, and carried a large wicker basket in one hand, while he leaned on a cane with the other.

  “Yes,” the lady said, nodding. “He can.”

  Jolene looked at the professor narrowly. “What’s it gonna cost?”

  The professor laughed softly. “You’ve grown sharper, Little Seer. I like it.”

  Jolene waited.

  “I just need you to look at something for me. Now, come along. There isn’t much time before the cracks between the worlds close.”

  “You want to go now? But I promised—”

  “And you promised to pay me, too,” the lady said. “Give me my necklace.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” the professor advised. “You’ll be glad of such trinkets where we’re going.”

  Jolene hesitated. It was the last string of beads she had.

  “You promised,” the lady accused.

  “She can bring you another one. Tomorrow, or the next day,” the professor said. “Come, we have to hurry.”

  “Snake,” the lady hissed, not at Jolene, but at the professor. “That was mine! I earned it. I told her the truth.”

  Jolene looked from the lady in the wall to the professor. The man’s gaze chilled her, as if he were already tasting her soul and finding it too small. “Let’s go,” she told the professor.

  As soon as he turned away, Jolene laid the beads on the sidewalk.

  Grandma Loretta would have had Jolene’s head if she ever found out about Jolene playing tricks that way. Even with a white lady.

  “Look under the ferns and the cabbage leaves,” the lady whispered as she swooped to pick up the last strand.

  Jolene rushed to catch up to the professor. “That may not have been wise,” was all he said, not looking at her.

  “Maybe not,” Jolene agreed. “But it was the right thing to do.”

  * * *

  The night grew quieter as they walked; no people were on the street. Even the cars playing rap so loud that Jolene could feel the beat in her breastbone had stopped driving by. She liked the Quarter like this: the cartoon colors of the houses dimmed by the streetlights, the air soft and cool, the time ripe with dreams.

  “Where are we going?” she asked after they turned up Dauphine.

  “Cabrini Dog Park, just ahead.”

  Jolene hadn’t been to this part of the Quarter very often. However, even she could tell t
hat there was something different about the entrance to the park. A low brick wall with a chain-link fence surrounded the park, about four feet tall. The gate, though, stood at least eight feet high, and was made out of ornate wrought iron.

  Before Jolene could ask the professor, he told her, “Hurry up!”

  One of the gate doors was already closed. The other had started swinging shut.

  Jolene rushed down the last few yards, plunging through the gate after the professor without a moment’s hesitation.

  On the far side, Jolene stopped. She’d never seen a park so beautiful before. The grass looked smooth and thick like a carpet, instead of prickled and brown. Graceful oaks spread across the field like game pieces on a chessboard, their boughs dipping like dancers. A fountain gurgled off to the side, the water glistening against the pure white marble.

  Jolene turned to the professor. He watched her with calm, golden eyes. She saw more of his gator soul now, though he smiled at her with perfectly normal, human teeth. “Picturesque, isn’t it? The land of the Seelie court.”

  “It is.” Jolene felt awkward and out of place. This wasn’t her home, or even someplace she’d like to visit. It was too far from the city.

  “But the beauty here is fading,” the professor said with a sigh. “The queen, Queen Yvette, has been stolen.”

  Jolene looked out over the park again. Now she saw the sadness she’d missed before, how the leaves drooped on the branches, how the water fell like tears from the fountain columns.

  “I sometimes see fortunes of people, their true path,” Jolene said slowly. “You don’t expect me to somehow find the queen, do you?”

  “No, no. That’s beyond the ability of our own people,” he said, grimacing. “I want you to look at the court, however. See if you spot a crown.” At Jolene’s silence, he sighed and added, “I want you to see if there’s already someone whose fate it is to be her heir.”

  “I only ever see musical instruments!” Jolene protested. “Not just any kind of fate.”

  “You’ll see more here,” the professor told her confidently.

  “Is this a bubble world?” Jolene asked as they started walking across the park. Her shoes sank into the lush grass, though it wasn’t wet like she thought it would be.

  “No, this is the soap itself,” he said, laughing. “See, soap!” he added, pulling back the cover on the basket he carried. It was full of bars of handmade soap. Jolene could suddenly smell the exotic spices and flowers that were in it.

  “I don’t get it,” she admitted.

  The professor sighed. “The Seelie court is the originator of the other worlds, of all the bubble worlds. This world colors all the others. Just imagine what all the worlds, including the human one, will be like if we don’t find the queen. Or her heir. This beauty will be lost, drained away from all of them.”

  Beyond the park they found a small dirt trail that led farther into the woods. As they walked, Jolene finally asked the one question that had been plaguing her. “Why me? Why bring me here?”

  “Because you were convenient,” the professor said smoothly. “And you’re disgustingly, almost one hundred percent, human.”

  Jolene was surprised that she knew the professor was lying. Maybe she could see more here.

  The problem was, she didn’t know which part wasn’t true: her handiness or her humanity.

  * * *

  As the trees grew denser, Jolene grew more nervous. She’d never been in the deep woods before. The only time she’d ever left the city had been for Katrina. The forest looked impenetrable. Bushes with thorns, spiky vines, and ferns grew in between the trunks. The only way through was by the path, which Jolene didn’t trust either: It seemed to meander as it pleased. It wasn’t as real, or immutable, as a sidewalk.

  At the top of a slight rise, the professor had them stop and pause for a moment. He wasn’t out of breath, he just commanded Jolene, “Look.”

  Down at the bottom of the valley stood a large clearing, at least as big as a football field. People gathered in clumps across the green. Huge oaks dotted the edge, with soft lights strung between their boughs. Music floated up to them. Though Jolene only heard snatches of it, she wanted to hear more.

  “Stay close to me,” the professor warned. “And don’t be scared by what you see. Their bark is almost always worse than their bite.” He gave her his toothy grin.

  “Weird don’t scare me, darling,” Jolene told him with more bravado than she felt. “I grew up in New Orleans.”

  The professor chuckled. “Let’s go meet the court.”

  Jolene followed him down the hill, the music getting louder as they approached. It made her want to dance, like a good jazz band did. She tried to peer under the trees now and again, looking at the ferns. She didn’t see anything hiding there that looked like a soul.

  They entered the open area from the back. Jolene blinked and kept what Grandma Loretta called her “church smile” plastered on her face. While the professor had some gator, others were more mixed. A woman with gazelle horns and a long face swept by them, dancing with a man who had a porcupine mane. Two tree men skipping in circles followed them, tall and spindly. Something that looked like an amalgamation of rocks and bones slowly slid past, followed by a walking vine.

  Jolene watched them all carefully, not because she was nervous—or, at least, that’s what she told herself. No, she was here to do a job. She looked for some kind of crown or scepter, anything that looked regal. She looked for charms as well, and was surprised by how many different ones she saw: not just musical instruments, but hammers, wheels, tiny mirrors, even an old-fashioned phone. Given the wild nature of the people, she didn’t expect the charms to be so man-made. She had no idea what they meant.

  They walked through the crowd, down one side. As they passed the musicians standing on a raised stage, Jolene looked extra carefully. More than one of them a wore musical charm, which made her feel better. A crane-like girl played a fiddle made of bone; sparks carried on the notes she flung out into the crowd. A tree danced next to her, sawing away on a fiddle made of fire.

  At the far end, Jolene saw the queen’s empty throne. It had been carved out of the stump of a tree. The back arched up on either side like giant butterfly wings, trimmed with red flowers and strings of silver beads. Braided branches, covered in moss, made up the arms. Jolene could almost feel the presence that usually filled that seat: beautiful, thoughtful, and passionate.

  Just beyond the throne was a cleared circle under the trees. Ferns as tall as Jolene grew there. A leaf rustled here, then there. Jolene peered closer, trying to see if there was a soul there.

  “Can you see the little one?” the professor asked, coming beside her.

  Frustrated, Jolene shook her head, refusing to tear her gaze away. “What’s it look like?”

  “A shadow,” the professor said. “Like a baby, but not quite here.”

  “Why can’t I see it?” Jolene asked, her heart sinking.

  “Because you’ve always denied your gift,” the professor said, shrugging.

  Jolene knew this was her one chance to have a baby. She’d never come back here again, to the Seelie court. “Can you help me?” she asked, knowing that she might be giving up some of her normal life. “Help me see better?”

  “Of course, my dear,” the professor said too smoothly.

  Jolene looked at him with clear eyes, accepting her fate, knowing she might never be able to turn away from the fates she saw.

  The professor put his hand up against Jolene’s forehead and said, “Close your eyes.”

  Jolene closed them and felt the heat of his palm warming her entire skull. It didn’t hurt; she didn’t see any bright lights behind her eyes. Just steady pressure.

  “You can open them now.”

  Jolene looked around the clearing. More beings stood there now. She knew they weren’t ghosts, because according to Grandma Loretta, ghosts repeated the same actions over and over again. It was part of why they were ghost
s. These shadows, while out of phase with the living, moved with more purpose.

  “Bubble world,” Jolene breathed out. They were reflections of beings from the other worlds.

  The professor looked at her sharply, surprised. “Very good, Little Seer,” he said. “Can you see both sides of the beings here? Not just their true nature, but the side they show the human world?”

  Jolene examined the beings who inhabited the Seelie court more carefully. Now she saw their human natures as well. Some looked plain, ordinary. Jolene would have passed them on the street without looking twice. Others were extraordinarily beautiful. One African American man had beautiful light brown eyes and his hair relaxed, his skin darker than ink. His friend was the whitest boy she’d seen in a while, with skin so pale it reflected the light, tight red curls, and freckles.

  With a start, Jolene realized that the dark man was related to the queen. “Her son, isn’t he?” she asked softly.

  “Very good,” the professor said with a chuckle. “And?”

  “No crown,” Jolene said after another minute. Nothing but that regal bearing of his.

  “That’s too bad,” the professor said. “We’re going to have to go look one more place.”

  The professor didn’t sound sad at all. He had that look of greed back in his eye.

  “Then I can come back and find me a soul?” Jolene asked.

  “Yes. If you still want it. Come.” The professor turned and walked past the throne, back into the woods.

  “Where are we going?” Jolene asked, resigned, following him.

  “You’ve seen the Seelie court and said there was no heir. So now we go to the other court.”

  “What other court?” Jolene asked, still confused. Two courts?

  “The Seelie court is called the light court. They value beauty and passion. The Unseelie court, well, they still value beauty and passion. Just different. Darker. You’ll see.”

  Jolene was very much afraid that she would.

  * * *

  “You want me to do what?” Jolene asked, still standing on the dirt trail while the professor waded through the underbrush to a large branch.