The Juju Girl

by Nikki Marsh

  "Gabbie, how did you sleep last night? No more bad dreams, I hope." Suspicion laced her tone.

  "No bursts of cold air or dark shadows?" She almost purred.

  "No, Auntie. I dreamt about Popá." This wasn't true, but I wanted to put her at ease to stop her prying.

  "Good. You know, you can put a pair of open scissors under your pillow to take away any bad dreams, don't you? Ask Felicie for a pair."

  "No, I didn't, Auntie, but I'll keep that in mind."

  Over the next few days, I mined more of the family history from Felicie. Auntie had fallen in love with Uncle Phonse, even though he didn't live up to her own or Granpopá's expectations for a husband. It didn't help that he had a wife and stepson back in Buras. Uncle was Auntie's single lapse in maintaining the family's standards. So, when Suzanne died suddenly, they married, and Uncle kept his promise to Suzanne and adopted Stefan. When Brigitte was born, Granpopá gave Uncle more responsibilities and, over time, he recognized Uncle had a good head for business. By the time he died, Granpopá loved and trusted him to manage his business affairs.

  ✽✽✽

  My tutoring lessons began soon after that. Mr. Beauregard, Beau, reminded me of a scarecrow with his wiry yellow hair, tall, angular body, and pale complexion. He had a ghoulish look about him. His eyes darted around the room whenever he spoke, as if he were on the lookout for someone. He rarely looked me in the eye and constantly fidgeted with his handkerchief, raising it to dab his nose as if he had a perpetual cold. His voice was unusually deep for such a scrawny man.

  Beau had tutored Brigitte and Stefan periodically for several years. He was happy to take me on since Stefan now attended the military academy, and Brigitte's recent illness. He probably worried he would catch whatever ailment she had if he worked too closely with her. Auntie liked him, and he was more at ease around her. She often chatted with him after I finished my studies, and he frequently stayed for supper. For my first lesson, Beau sat cross-legged in one of the fluffed-up chairs in the library. He quizzed me. I surprised him by getting most of the answers right.

  "Gabbie, you are a very strong student," he raised his eyes from the carpet to a spot just above my head. "You must have spent a lot of time with your studies."

  "I did."

  This was not exactly true. Learning came easy for me, so I didn't have to put in extra time. But since he thought I was smart, I wanted to impress him.

  "Good. We'll build on your strong foundation and concentrate on history and the classics. You’ll need to learn French, too, since it wasn’t taught in your old school."

  "What about math and science? I like those subjects."

  "A young lady has little use for those subjects." His eyes now focused on the table beside him, and he tapped his fingers in a rolling beat.

  "Honestly, Mr. Beauregard, science and math are a lot less boring than history and the classics."

  He frowned and rubbed his right temple, as if I had given him a headache.

  "You're the first girl I've taught who has any interest in mathematics or science. Very intriguing. But why?"

  "Science explains things, and math is very logical. I like facts."

  After a few minutes of reflection, he said, "I'll include a little science and mathematics, if your Auntie doesn't object, but they won't replace the other subjects. They will be in addition to them."

  He looked me directly in the eye as I stood up to leave.

  "You're a very interesting girl, Gabbie. I'm going to enjoy working with you."

  “Me? Interesting? I promise you I’m anything but that,” I smiled as I left the room, pleased that someone thought I was interesting.

  Chapter Five

  Making Friends

  The next night, after everyone was asleep, I tiptoed to Felicie's room just off the kitchen. I tapped on her door. After a few minutes, she appeared, holding a candle in one hand and rubbing her eyes with the other.

  "What's the matter? Is it Missy Brigitte?"

  "No. I need to talk with you. It's very important."

  "So important, you cain't wait till the morning?

  "Yes."

  She let me in. Her room was larger than I had imagined, furnished with a small bed, dresser, washstand, and a small table with many curious items.

  I told her about my ghostly visitor and what Maman told me. She became agitated.

  "No way am I goin' to take you to my Maman without Miss Lucinda knowin' it. Ain't gonna get on her bad side. Don't want her to put no bad juju on me."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean she can ‘fix’ me or you if she wants."

  "What makes you say that?"

  Felicie said nothing right away.

  "Well, how do you know?" I insisted, determined not to give up. I wanted to learn everything about this family.

  "Cause I seen her do it," she said as she crossed her arms.

  After she let that cat out of the bag, she sat on the side of her bed and continued in a whisper.

  "One day, 'bout two years ago now, when I was cleanin' Miss Lucinda's bedroom, right there on the bed I saw a red wax heart with seven pins stuck in it. That's a real bad sign for somethin' - somethin' to do with somebody's heart. I picked it up to get a good look, but no sooner than I did, Miss Lucinda walked in and started goin' after me. She grabbed my broom, beat me and yelled for me to put it down. I tried to tell her I had to move it to make the bed. She got a wild look in her eyes, pointed that broom at me, and ordered me to leave if I knew what was good for me. I threw that heart on the bed and ran out as fast as my feet would go. I swear, I had a headache for seven straight days and nights."

  "She hit you that hard?"

  "No, but pointin' a broom at somebody brings on terrible headaches and worse." Just remembering it made Felicie grimace like her head still hurt.

  "Later on that evening, Miss Lucinda came into the kitchen actin' so sweet, like nothin' had happened. Just told me to fix a special supper for the next day 'cause Miss Blanche, the neighbor lady, was coming to dinner."

  Felicie scanned the room despite the fact we were the only two people in it.

  "Now, Miss Blanche and Miss Lucinda might have been good friends at one time. That changed when Miss Blanche's husband died a few years back. Miss Lucinda started thinkin' Mr. Phonse got a little too friendly with the widow for her tastes. He'd been steady visitin' her, helpin' her out with some business stuff and with her son Julian. A blind man could see Miss Lucinda didn't like it none and didn't trust him neither. I heard them arguin' 'bout it more than once."

  Felicie detailed the menu she prepared before continuing.

  "Anyways, Miss Blanche and her boy, Julian, came over the next day. It sure sounded like everybody was havin' a grand time laughin', singing, playin' games and such. Julian is sweet on Missy Brigitte, you know, and he really enjoyed himself. Next day, I found melted red wax and pins in the fireplace in Miss Lucinda's bedroom. I asked my Maman what that meant... a melted heart and pins. From my own Maman's mouth to my ears came these words, "Miss Lucinda done put a fix on Miss Blanche."

  One week later, Miss Blanche started witherin' away. One month later, she took to her bed, and Miss Lucinda took to bringin' her little treats every day. If you ask me, she got her hands on some bad conjure and put that stuff in those treats. Miss Blanche ain't never had a chance. One year after I found that melted heart and pins, she died. A sudden illness, they say. But it weren't no illness that took her away."

  Felicie said this with such certainty, I believed her.

  "Now, it's just her boy, Julian, and his Grann. And that boy and Stefan are best friends," she said matter-of-factly.

  "I ain't saying no more 'cept - I don't plan to cross Miss Lucinda, and you shouldn't either."

  When she ended her story, Felicie walked over to the small table and pulled out a small bone from a red pouch.

  "This here bone's from a black cat, and I put it in my apron pocket every day so she cain't put no more fixes on me."
<
br />   "Where did you get it?"

  "Maman gave it to me and told me to keep it with me every minute I'm in this house."

  I decided I could use this last bit of information to reason with Felicie and get her to agree to take me to Neni.

  "Since the cat bone protects you, then Auntie can't hurt you. We could be so careful she wouldn't suspect anything."

  To humor her even more, I added, "Could you get me one of those bones for protection?" I planted this idea to make her feel safe enough to take me to Neni.

  "I'm goin' to have to talk to my Maman 'bout this. I ain't makin' no promises 'till I do."

  "In the meantime, Missy, don't tell your Auntie 'bout no more bad dreams or visits from the spirits. In fact, don't mention nothin' 'bout it to nobody. And don't make no more night visits either." I agreed. Since Felicie only went home once a week, I had to wait to hear Neni's answer.

  I got in the habit of waking up early to visit Felicie before the others awoke. She always asked about Maman and cooked something she thought she could eat, never failing to add conjure herbs she got from Neni.

  A few days after my night visit, I heard an unfamiliar voice coming from the kitchen as I entered. Stefan had come home unexpectedly for a few days. Standing there in his uniform, he mesmerized me with his dark, brooding eyes. It wasn't just his eyes. It was his manner. For me, it felt like we were the only two people in the room.

  "Well, ain't you two goin' to say something?" Felicie asked.

  He walked over to me, bowed with a flourish, took my hand and kissed it. He greeted me not as that awkward girl of five years ago, but as a young lady. I struggled to keep my feet on the ground.

  "What a beautiful young lady you have become, Gabrielle."

  Words escaped me. I tried to compose myself. Before I could, he continued.

  "I'm so glad you're here, but sorry it's because of your tragic loss. Losing a parent is brutal.”

  Somehow, I found my voice and filled him in. I remembered he had lost both his parents and his sister. He understood how I felt, but I didn't want sadness to sabotage this moment. I changed the subject.

  "Brigitte thought she wouldn't see you until the holidays. She'll be happy you're home."

  "So, you've been checking up on me, little cousin?"

  He unnerved me. I thought I'd done a better job hiding my feelings. When he laughed, I realized he was joking. We both laughed.

  "Phonse wrote me. He thought a surprise visit might cheer her up."

  "I agree."

  I'm glad Brigitte told me they had become like brother and sister. Otherwise, I could misinterpret his intentions.

  "To be honest, I have another reason for coming home."

  "Cain't imagine what that is," Felicie said sarcastically as she smiled.

  "While I'm here, I plan to spend some time with Emilie before the ball. I wrote her that I was coming, and she invited me to lunch this afternoon."

  Turning to me he added, "You should come with me, Gabbie."

  "No, she shouldn't." Felicie interjected. "It ain't proper for Gabbie to visit her without an invitation. Even I know that much."

  "Felicie's right. I should wait for an invitation."

  "This isn't a formal event, and besides, she would love to meet you. You're family. You'll like her. She's very popular and from one of the best families in New Orleans. I won't take 'no' for an answer," he insisted.

  Brigitte was wrong. Stefan liked Emilie a lot. He wanted to see more of her.

  "I sure hope Brigitte will be well enough to go to the ball," he continued. "Julian's looking forward to escorting her."

  "How is Brigitte, Felicie?"

  "The good days and bad days are battlin' each other, but the bad days are winnin' now." This prognosis prompted Stefan to excuse himself to look in on Brigitte, but not before he exacted my promise to be ready to leave for Emilie's at noon.

  ✽✽✽

  Emilie lived a short distance away. We strolled along brick streets lined with a canopy of trees. Emilie's house was a mansion surrounded by a fancy wrought-iron fence. It was much grander than Auntie's.

  I regretted the visit as soon as she opened the door.

  The moment I laid eyes on her, any hope I had about competing for Stefan's affection faded. With her ivory complexion, violet eyes, and silky black curls, I had to admit I was out of her league. I'd never seen eyes that color.

  "Bonjour, Stefan." She beamed as he kissed her on the cheek.

  "Bonjour, Emilie."

  Qui avez-vous amené avec vous ?

  "My little cousin, Gabbie. She's living with us now. I wanted her to meet you."

  "Of course. Miss Lucinda told Maman about your misfortune, Gabbie. I'm so sorry."

  I apologized for coming without an invitation and told her Stefan insisted.

  "Nonsense. You're Stefan's family and always welcome here." She led us to the dining room.

  A luncheon of Turtle Soup, Andouille & Chicken Jambalaya, Okra and Tomatoes, and Pain Perdu Bread Pudding, awaited us. Emilie’s Maman was there to greet us.

  "Lucinda told me about the terrible tragedy your family has suffered. Veuillez accepter mes condoléances."

  Emilie and her Maman enjoyed showing off their French and spoke it sporadically to each other during lunch. I guessed they were talking about me and complaining that Stefan brought me. It was rude. Even a girl from Buras knows that.

  "Once you get yourself settled, you'll appreciate all New Orleans offers proper young ladies. Emilie and Brigitte will introduce you to the right friends."

  Stefan chimed in, "Auntie will make sure she does."

  After lunch, Mrs. Duvalier excused herself to officiate on one of her many charity committees. We adjourned to the music room where Emilie showed off her considerable musical and singing talents, then politely showed up my lack of them.

  "Now, it's your turn to regale us, Gabbie." She smirked.

  "I never learned to play the piano or any musical instrument."

  "Didn't you take music lessons in your school at Buras?"

  "No."

  "No private tutor, either."

  "No private tutor either."

  "Oh, my!"

  "Well, surely you can sing. I'll play the piano. You can sing."

  "I have a terrible voice," I bluntly responded. Stefan chimed in.

  "Few young ladies can compare their accomplishments to yours, Emilie. That's for sure. Buras is a small town without the opportunities available in New Orleans. Now that Gabbie's here, I'm sure she will take advantage of new opportunities that interest her."

  I appreciated Stefan defending me.

  "How on earth did you entertain yourself in Buras?"

  "Mostly reading."

  "What about drawing or painting? I took art lessons just to better myself."

  "I never had an interest in art and had no idea I needed to better myself. I thought I was good enough just the way I am."

  Stefan laughed at my tongue-in-cheek answer. This agitated Emilie, who doubled down on her effort to embarrass me.

  "What on earth were you interested in back home?"

  "Cooking, sewing, needlework. Mostly domestic things."

  "Did you make the dress you're wearing? I like it."

  "No. It's one of Brigitte's dresses she's outgrown."

  "You're lucky to have a cousin with such good taste," she continued.

  "Are you planning to attend the Convent School? It's run by French nuns. That's why I'm so fluent in French. Every young lady with social standing speaks French - fluently. You must learn it."

  In one afternoon, Emilie showed Stefan how utterly superior she was to me. Not only was she beautiful, she played the piano, sang, spoke French fluently, didn't wear hand-me-down clothes, probably danced splendidly, and told us she had the lead in a theatrical production at school. She confirmed my belief I didn't belong here. I hated her.

  ✽✽✽

  Brigitte didn't eat at all that day. The sight of food nauseated
her. Auntie worried more than usual at dinner and, after Brigitte returned to her room, she announced Brigitte would not attend the ball. What's worse, she designated me to take her place.

  My face twisted into a frown. I didn't try to hide my reaction. I had never attended a ball before, and I didn't want to go with a complete stranger. I knew better than argue with Auntie. I didn't want to anger her by refusing her command. So, I pointed out one major problem.

  "Auntie, I'd love to go, but I can't dance." I thought my inability to dance would disqualify me as a suitable candidate. She found a solution.

  "The ball is still a few weeks away. Stefan can teach you enough while he's here so you can follow a lead."

  Before I could agree, Stefan objected.

  "I can barely dance myself, and besides, I'm planning to return to school in a few days."

  "I thought you would be here longer." Auntie complained.

  Stefan offered an alternate plan.

  "What about Julian? He's a much better dancer and would be the one to enjoy any improvement in Gabbie's dancing, wouldn't he?"

  They talked as if I weren't in the room. I didn't like that.

  "You're right, Stefan," Auntie said. "That's a better plan as long as they practice at his house. I haven't told Brigitte she's not going yet, and I don't want to upset her any more than necessary. I'll speak to Julian's Grann."

  "Gabbie, you'll need a formal dress, but the best seamstresses are too busy to make a new one on short notice. Felicie can take you to my seamstress. I'm one of her best customers, so she will make the time to alter one of Brigitte's dresses. You'll only need new ballroom slippers."

  It occurred to me that, between dancing lessons with Julian, visits to the seamstress, and shopping for slippers, I should be able to sneak in visits to Neni.

  ✽✽✽

  The next day, Stefan offered to walk with me to Julian's on his way to Emilie's.

  Before we left, I checked on Maman, who dozed in a chair by the window. Her head wound was healing, but her heart was not. She sometimes had trouble remembering things, and she hadn't regained her strength, only able to sit in the chair an hour or two a day.