The Juju Girl

by Nikki Marsh

  "Maman. I am going out with Stefan. How do I look?"

  I normally didn't care much about my appearance, but I wanted to look my best for Stefan, even if his romantic interest was elsewhere. After blurting this out, I realized Maman was not fully awake, and I had disturbed her.

  "Gabrielle?"

  "I'm sorry I woke you up, Maman. I wanted to tell you I'm going out with Stefan."

  She struggled for a second to remember Stefan.

  "You remember Stefan, don't you? He's sort of Uncle Phonse's stepson."

  "Oh. Suzanne's little brother."

  "Yes, but he isn't so little anymore," I laughed.

  "Where are you going?"

  I explained that Auntie insisted that I take Brigitte's place at the Sweetheart Ball, so I had to learn to dance. She smiled. That pleased me.

  "I remember how much I enjoyed the ball."

  "Well, how do I look?"

  "Very grown up, especially with your hair pulled up like that," she replied.

  I tried to rein in my wild hair to look more ladylike.

  "Do you like it, Maman?"

  "Yes, I do, but then I would love your hair no matter how you fixed it. When I'm up to it, I'll find my old silver combs. They must be around here somewhere."

  "I would love that, Maman. I remember how beautiful they were when you wore them to Granpopá's funeral. I hope they turn up before the ball."

  A few minutes later, Stefan knocked and came in.

  "Hello, Auntie Aimee. I hope you're a little better today."

  "Thank you. I am, Stefan." She was lying.

  "You're all grown up, Stefan. The years have passed so quickly."

  "I thought the same thing when I saw my beautiful little cousin. Now I have the pleasure of escorting her to her first dance class."

  After more small talk, we left for Julian’s. I was happy that Stefan was walking with me to Julian’s, but I wasn’t happy about going to a ball with a complete stranger who wanted to go with someone else. I decided to keep an open mind. How bad could he be?

  Chapter Six

  Julian

  On our walk to Julian's, Stefan did most of the talking. He thought Maman suffered as much from losing Popá as she did from her injuries. He assured me that someday she would come to terms with her loss. I believed him. He had lost his mother, father, and sister, and gone on with his life.

  "Losing both my parents so young devastated me. My world ended, but then Suzanne and Phonse took me. Mind you, I will always miss my parents, but Suzanne convinced me that they would always be there for me. So would she and Phonse. In a way, Suzanne replaced my mother."

  "Was that true? Did your memories of your parents get you through your troubles?"

  "Gabbie, you don't understand. At first, I didn't either. I thought she meant their memories, too. I didn't understand what she meant until she became ill. That's when they came to me one night."

  "Your parents?"

  "Yes."

  I got a terrible premonition he had communed with the dead.

  "They came in a dream." These words put me at ease.

  "Do you believe me, Gabbie?"

  "I do."

  "Right after Suzanne died, Phonse was a wreck. He blamed himself for spending so much time in New Orleans. When I got older, I realized he didn’t have to keep me. He could have sent me to live with my elderly aunt, especially after he married Lucinda. No one would have blamed him because he wasn't my actual family. I worried a lot about my future.

  "One night after I fell asleep, something rubbed up against my cheek. It woke me. At first, I thought it was my cat, Tiptoe, but when I looked around, he wasn't there. I called out for him, but he wasn’t in the room. An icy wind swirled around the room and blew the door shut. That scared me, but I slipped into a deep sleep. That's when I heard my parents' voices, first my Maman and then my Popá. They reassured me. Maman told me not to worry about the future. My Popá told me Phonse loved me and needed me as much as I needed him now. I would stay with him, no matter what."

  "And Suzanne. Did you hear her, too?"

  "No, I didn't. They told me her spirit couldn't cross over because she’d departed life so suddenly. When that happens, it takes longer for a spirit to crossover. It can get stuck between two worlds and can't let go.”

  He stopped and grabbed me by my shoulders. He expected to see disbelief, but he saw fear.

  "Don't be afraid, Gabbie. I haven’t told another soul. No one would believe me if I had.”

  “I would. I believe every word, Stefan.”

  “That day in the kitchen with Felicie, somehow I knew I could trust you,” he said.

  After a few minutes of silence, I asked if he was happy living with Auntie and Uncle.

  “My life is wonderful. My parents were right about Phonse. He gives me whatever I need or want. He treats me like family…like I am his son. Even Brigitte and I are close."

  "What about Auntie Lucinda?"

  Stefan stopped again.

  “When Phonse is around, she puts up a good front. When it’s just the two of us, it’s different. I am a constant reminder that Phonse had a wife and a life before her. She hates having a constant reminder. It's something I feel, but I would never bring up with her or Phonse."

  "I wouldn't either," I added. "I wouldn’t want to get on her bad side."

  "No?" We both laughed!

  We found Julian in his parlor slouched on a sofa, wearing rumpled clothes and uncombed hair. He was nothing like Stefan. He didn’t stand up to meet me and wasted no time clarifying that taking me to the ball wasn’t his idea.

  "It's too bad about Brigitte,” he said to Stefan. “She’s the reason I wanted to go to the ball.”

  I didn’t like Julian. He acted like I wasn’t in the room.

  “Your Auntie told my Grann that Brigitte didn't want me to miss the ball. If I did, she would blame herself. That's the only reason I agreed to take your cousin.”

  "Despite your profound disappointment over the turn of events, my friend, I'm determined you and my little cousin will have a splendid time."

  When he called me his little cousin, I set the record straight.

  "Actually, Julian, we're not blood cousins. And, I'm not little anymore. I'm 15."

  Stefan smiled. "She's correct. In any case, Gabbie needs dancing lessons before the ball."

  With that, Stefan moved to the settee, leaned back, and crossed his legs. He and Julian talked about their friends and who would go to the ball and with whom. They left me out of the conversation and made me feel out of place and backward because I needed dancing lessons. It didn't help that Julian didn’t want to go the ball with me. I no longer wondered if I belonged in this fancy world of military uniforms, balls, hand-me-down gowns, and young gentlemen. I knew I didn’t.

  I missed my old life where I didn’t worry about these things or how I should act. I acted like myself. I walked over to the window so they couldn't see my eyes misting.

  After they finished catching up, Julian noticed me staring out the window.

  "Don't feel bad about not knowing how to dance. As long as you can follow my lead, you'll be OK."

  That sounded like pity. I seethed and turned to face him.

  “Why should I feel bad about not knowing how to do something I never learned to do, Julian?"

  My brash comeback surprised me. I didn't want his pity, and I found the confidence to stand up for myself and join the conversation.

  "Furthermore, I've never been to a ball before, so I never needed to learn to dance."

  "I'm sorry, Gabbie. Now that you mention it, I remember a time when Stefan and I needed dancing lessons, too."

  Stefan laughed. “Julian’s right. We had to endure formal dancing classes from Madame Dumas, as I remember. So, you're having the best of it, Gabbie, your own private dancing tutor!”

  "If you can put up with me as your teacher," Julian added, "you should be able to dance tolerably well at the ball."

  “I'll
leave you in Julian's capable hands,” Stefan said with his disarming smile. “Should I stop by on my way home from Emilie’s to walk you home?"

  I liked that idea very much, but before I answered Julian volunteered.

  "You don't have to do that. Spend as much time as you want with Emilie. Gabbie and I could use the time to become better acquainted. I suspect I haven’t made the best impression on your cousin. Besides, knowing your dance partner makes you a much better dancer."

  "It does?" I asked.

  "It does. Since you're not dancing with a stranger, you won't be so nervous," he reasoned.

  "That makes sense," Stefan added. With that, he left.

  Julian's Grann came in a few minutes later to play the piano while we tackled the waltz for the next hour. Afterwards, she brought in a plate of pecan lace cookies and the best lemonade I'd ever tasted.

  "Gabbie, with a little more practice, you will be quite a good dancer." She smiled in an all-knowing way. I imagined it was a look only a grandmother could give.

  "I hope you're right, Grann." She’d insisted I call her Grann.

  “I don't want to embarrass either of my two dance partners at the ball."

  Grann laughed and declared with authority, “You’ll have more partners than Julian and Stefan, my dear." She had that look again.

  “It wouldn’t surprise me if your Programme du Bal didn't fill up after the first dance!"

  “What is a Programme du Bal, Grann?"

  "It's a little card for young ladies to record the names of gentlemen who wish to dance with them. You'll get one at the ball and carry it on your wrist. When a young man introduces himself, he will ask you to save a dance for him, and you will write his name in your program”.

  Now I was worried.

  "I hope you’re wrong about a full Programme du Bal. I won’t be ready to dance with just anyone."

  "You will. In fact, I predict, by the end of the ball, you'll be quite in demand.”

  Then, she added, "You're quite a beauty, you know."

  No. I didn’t. My parents always told me I was pretty, but parents must think that. I’m not beautiful like Maman. My skin is not as fair. My hair doesn’t fall in loose wavy curls. My green eyes are haunting like cat-eyes, but they laughed like Popá's. I wasn't ugly, but I wasn't beautiful either.

  "Thank you, Grann.”

  I wanted to know more about Julian, and on our walk back home I got my chance.

  "Do you go to the military academy with Stefan?"

  "No. Military schools are not for me. I'm not that self-disciplined."

  "Isn't the reason for going to military school to get some self-discipline?"

  "Perhaps. But, like my father, I'm a Holy Cross man, and I'm proud of it."

  "I can tell,” I smiled. What's it like?"

  "In a way, it's the exact opposite of a military school. Don't get me wrong; it's just as rigorous, but it was founded on the principle that, ‘The mind will not be cultivated at the expense of the heart.’ Our motto is, 'Become the Man You are', he laughed as if joking, but I could tell he took it seriously.

  “I like that motto. I wish I could go to a regular school rather than have a tutor, but Auntie won’t hear of it,” I added.

  “Give her a little time, she’ll come around.”

  "Are you sure you have time to teach me dancing? You must be very busy with school.”

  "I'll make time. School wraps up around 2 p.m., but, since I'm a senior, I get out at noon every Tuesday and Thursday. Would one o'clock on Tuesdays and Thursdays work for you?"

  "Perfect!" I was relieved that I’d only be practicing twice a week.

  I told Julian how much I liked Grann. I never knew either of my grandparents and told him how lucky he was.

  In the back of my mind, I wondered about what Felicie told me about his Maman. Did she die because Auntie Lucinda “fixed” her? I wanted to find out, but I didn't want to bring up the subject. When he said how sorry he was about Popá and asked about Maman, I got up enough nerve to ask him about his parents.

  "You must miss your parents. Losing both must have been hard."

  "Losing my Maman hurt me more than losing my father. Don't get me wrong, I loved Father, but he spent most of his time on business, away from home. He wasn't part of my everyday life. I guess I loved him from a distance."

  We felt so different about our fathers. Popá worked on orchards far away, but he was always close to me no matter how far away he traveled or how long he was gone.

  "Losing my Maman was another story," he added. "I adored her, and I was the center of her life, especially after father died. She loved life. We explored all parts of the city, sampling the food, visiting curiosity shops, having our fortunes read, talking to people we would never have met otherwise. We would have explored the world, if she had lived."

  I saw my opening. "Had she been ill long?"

  "Not really. Father died unexpectedly on one of his trips. It devastated her. That's when my Grann came to live with us. Your uncle helped Maman a lot with settling his business affairs, which were not in the best shape, and he always included me on outings with Stefan. That's how Stefan and I became so close."

  I told him how Uncle found Popá after the storm and gave him a proper burial in his family's cemetery. After a few minutes of silence, Julian continued.

  "I can't remember my mother ever having more than a cold until her illness. Her health took a turn for the worse every day. Doctors never discovered the cause but insisted she would get better. We still don’t what killed her. I sometimes think she grieved herself to death."

  After a few minutes of silence, he asked, "Do you think a person can die of grief, Gabbie?"

  "If that were true, Maman and I would be dead by now."

  His question started me wondering, "What if Maman is grieving herself to death?"

  ✽✽✽

  Julian surprised me when he showed up the next afternoon with a small bouquet of flowers. He wanted to visit with Brigitte. After I checked with Auntie, I took him to our room and left them alone.

  When Julian emerged, we sat on the porch swing and talked for a while.

  "She doesn't look good. Every time I see her, she's worse than the time before. She tried to put on a brave face for me, but I saw right through it."

  I thought about telling a harmless lie to make him feel better but decided to be honest.

  "We're all very worried about her. Auntie has exhausted herself trying every remedy she could find to help Brigitte. Nothing works."

  "Just like my Maman."

  “Let's hope not, Julian. Let's hope not.”

  By the time he left, my opinion of Julian had changed. I don’t know why, but I trusted him and suspected we might become good friends, or at least good allies.

  Chapter Seven

  Miss Marie

  A few days later, between shopping at the Place d'Armes and dance practice with Julian, Felicie took me to Neni. She had changed little since the last time I saw her. Sitting in her rocking chair on the front porch shelling peas, she seemed only a little frailer.

  "You and your Maman been weighin' heavy on my mind. With all my aches and pains, it's gettin' harder and harder to get around these days. Cain't do the things I used to, but I pray real hard for Miss Aimee every day. Felicie keeps me up to date. Seems like she just cain't get no better."

  She gestured for me to come closer. She wanted a better look.

  After nodding her approval, she chuckled, "My, my, my. How you have growed."

  "Why did your Maman send you to me, chile?" she asked.

  "She suspects I have the power to pierce the veil that separates the living from the dead, and you could help me." Speaking those words out loud, I realized how crazy it sounded.

  "Well, can you?" Her eyes demanded an answer, but I was unsure what to say.

  "I don't know."

  "You don't or you don't want to know?" She raised her eyebrows.

  "I don't know, but I want to know.
"

  "What gives your Maman the idea that you have the Gift?"

  "I heard Granpopá's voice at the cemetery the day of his funeral five years ago."

  Neni thought, nodding her head up and down before asking, "Well, did anyone else hear him?"

  "No."

  "What else?"

  "I saw a shadow standing at the foot of Brigitte's bed. Maman believes it was a spirit."

  "Um hmm." She paused and then, "Could you make out anything else 'bout the spirit? Man, woman, child?"

  I told her I couldn't, but I told her about the chill when the shadow appeared.

  "They surely are some signs all right." She paused before continuing.

  "What do your Maman think I can do?"

  "She says you are wise about these things."

  "You believe her?"

  "Yes."

  "Good. I know certain things, but there are other things I don't. Your Maman knows that."

  Neni piqued my curiosity, and I felt more comfortable with her. I asked her what she knew.

  "Conjure - healin,' protectin,' banishin', how to keep the bad things away. Things like that."

  "Like Felicie's cat bone?"

  She cracked a mischievous smile. She had lost one of her top front teeth since our first meeting.

  "Yes. I gave Felicie that bone for protection," she continued.

  "I'm wise 'bout healin' sicknesses of the body, but not 'bout sicknesses of the soul. I cain't put no curses on nobody, nor take no curses off nobody, nor devine the future."

  "What about my Maman? Can you heal her?"

  Neni shook her head side to side.

  "Your Maman's sickness isn't in her body. I've given Felicie mighty powerful conjure herbs that should have healed her body by now."

  I interrupted her.

  "If you think it's her soul that's sick, you're wrong. Maman is a good person. There's nothing wrong with her soul."

  I stared at her defiantly, but she shifted her gaze to the bowl of peas in her lap. In a few minutes, she spoke again.

  "Chile. I know your Maman like I know Felicie. She had a life long 'fore you came along, a life you don't know nothin' 'bout." Now, she was being hurtful.