by Nikki Marsh
"I put one on someone. It worked too well, and I'm trying to figure out how to fix it."
I didn't want to tell him the details, but he saw right through me.
"Does this 'little curse' involve Stefan?"
I confessed and told him the whole story.
He stood up to walk away from me, but he turned around.
"I knew it!" he barked.
"You are in love with Stefan! You would do anything, hurt anyone to get him." He paced the length of the room before he continued.
"Maybe, I understand how much you love him, but I don't understand how you could do that to Emilie. From what I saw at the ball, she went out of her way to be nice to you."
"I didn't know exactly how the spell would affect her. When I realized what a mistake I made, I wanted to do something."
"Why didn't you?"
"Remember, I told you I wanted to leave, but you didn't want to go?"
"So now I'm to blame somehow? Even though you weren't honest with me?
"I'm so ashamed of myself. Turns out, I like Emilie." I desperately wanted Julian to believe how much I regretted what I had done. I needed him to believe me.
"Yeah. You like her, but you still want Stefan for yourself, don't you?" He demanded an answer.
"All right. I admit it. I love Stefan, and because I do, I did a stupid, horrible thing. I've learned my lesson. I realize now trickery isn't the way to get someone to love me."
"Really?" He needed more convincing.
"Really. And, after I tell you the rest, you'll understand why."
I told him the whole lurid story of how Aunt Lucinda used love potions and conjure to make Uncle Phonse fall in love with her. I told him about Granpopá and Maman's role in Suzanne's death. I told him that Maman accidentally killed Suzanne.
He looked incredulous for a moment.
"I'm guessing you've kept the object of your affection in the dark, haven't you?"
"Yes."
"Is that because he will hate you after he learns the truth?"
"Yes."
"Don't you think he has a right to know who killed his sister?"
"Yes, and I will tell him when I'm ready." Julian didn't believe me.
"I promise to tell him when the time is right."
"Why are you telling me? Stefan is my best friend. You must know I will tell him?"
"I hope you won't. I promise I will tell him." Julian calmed down a little.
"You might want to sit down for the rest.” I gestured for him to sit next to me on the settee.
“I've been thinking about this, especially about Auntie."
"You can't put this all on Lucinda, Gabbie."
"I know, but don't you see, she's at the center of everything. She did those horrible things to make Uncle Phonse love her. I believe she has done even more horrible things to keep him."
"Like what?"
"Like killing anyone she sees as a threat."
"Like who?"
"Like your Maman."
"Now I don't believe you, Gabbie. She wouldn't do that. She liked Maman. They were close. She had no reason to kill her."
"Don't you see, Julian. The more time Uncle Phonse spent with your Maman, the more Lucinda resented her."
I told him about the wax heart and pins that Felicie found and what she suspected. I watched him fume as he put the pieces of the puzzle of his Maman's death together.
"I believe Lucinda killed your Maman. I suspect she cursed her and laced the treats she brought every day with some kind of bad conjure or poison."
His eyes widened. He jumped up, clenched his fist, and hit the wall so hard the picture hanging on it fell.
"That bitch!" he exploded.
His scared me. If it were anyone but Julian, I would have raced for the door. He wanted to confront Auntie right then, but I convinced him we couldn't let her know about our suspicions yet. We had to confirm them first.
We spent the rest of the afternoon going over everything that had happened. Julian vowed to help me. He said he owed it to his maman to get to the truth.
He walked me to the door.
"Gabbie, if she had any part in killing my maman, I swear, I will make her pay."
“Yes, but now we know how dangerous she is, so we must be careful. Who knows what she’s capable of doing?
Chapter Fourteen
Forgiveness
When I arrived home, I found Uncle Phonse alone in the drawing room.
"You're home early. Is it all right if I sit with you awhile?"
"Sure, but I warn you, it's terribly quiet and lonely in this room."
"It's quiet and lonely in this house."
Grief had left its mark on him. Hunched down in his chair, he looked older than his years. Brigitte's death had snuffed out a candle inside of him. I didn't know what to say. I started with small talk.
"Have you had your supper yet?"
"No, I don't think I've eaten all day."
"That's not good. Can I get you something?"
"I've lost my appetite, but I thank you for thinking about me."
"I have been thinking about you a lot, Uncle."
"Really?"
"I am worried about you."
"Now, I don't want you to worry none about me. I'll be all right. In time."
"I know you will. Definitely."
He looked a little surprised at my certainty, and I continued.
"I've grown up a lot since Popá died. I've thought about how important you are in my life. I've realized how strong you have been for all of us, how strong you were when we lost Popá, and how strong you have been since we lost Brigitte."
He smiled. "I'm glad you said 'we'. You loved her too, didn't you?"
"How could I not?"
He smiled and continued. "I had to be strong. Your Popá was a brother to me. When he died, I couldn't imagine my life without our fishing trips and our shared memories of all the wonderful times we had growing up. He would want me to protect you and Aimee. That's what kept me going then." He continued, "I've lost my two closest friends, Gus and Julian's Popá, and now I've lost my little girl. Her death has plunged me into a darkness I only experienced one other time, when my first wife died."
I wanted to hear more about Suzanne, but I had to tread lightly.
"What was she like?"
"Beautiful both inside and out. That's what made her so special. She loved helping folks, loved tending to the sickly, loved feeding the hungry, loved sharing whatever we had with folks less fortunate. We were poor and didn't have much, but she shared whatever little we had. When her parents died, she didn't have to take in Stefan. He could have lived with her aunt. No one expected her to raise her little brother." His eyes welled up with tears, but he continued.
"Instead of sending him away, she wanted us to raise him. Family meant everything to her. We were young and happy, and taking him improved our lives. She was my life, my love for as long as I could remember."
He lowered his head and stared at the floor.
"I let her down something awful after I moved to New Orleans for work. I can't even explain to myself why I did it. It's like I became somebody else. I forgot what we had. I hurt her so much. She died of a broken heart - she died because I let her down. I blame myself for her death."
Looking at things from his perspective, what he believed made perfect sense. But, he didn't know she was murdered. It broke my heart to see how much he suffered. I wanted to make him feel better.
"I'm sorry I never knew Suzanne. It sounds like I would have liked her a lot."
The woman he described bore no resemblance to the shadowy spirit who haunted and killed Brigitte.
"She must have loved you a lot."
"We loved each other a lot."
"Do you think she would want you to blame yourself for her death?"
"I wouldn't blame her if she did. She should. I took up with Lucinda while I was still married to Suzanne. That's how I betrayed her. Maybe she wants me to feel guilty."
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Suzanne had not crossed over for all these years. I wondered if it was because she couldn't be at peace as long as Uncle blamed himself. That and her determination to settle the score with Auntie and Maman shackled her to this life.
"When Popá first died, I thought he might not be at peace because he left us behind and worried about what would happen to us. I don't worry about that anymore. He is at peace because he doesn't have to worry about us. He's at peace because he knows you will take care of us."
"I'd like to think so, Gabbie."
"What if Suzanne can't be at peace as long as you blame yourself for her death? What if she can't be at peace until you forgive yourself?"
"Are you saying she might not be at peace?"
"If it were me, I couldn't be at peace as long you blamed yourself. Maybe I'm talking nonsense."
"You aren't a little girl anymore, Gabbie. You might be right. I never thought I could hurt her even more in death than I did in life."
"Since Popá died, you have made Maman and me feel like we're a part of your family, much more than Auntie has, and she's a blood relative!"
"Your Auntie hasn't made me feel part of the family since Brigitte died either. She has to blame someone - anyone."
"I see that. But, I've been thinking. Since I've lost Popá, and you've lost Brigitte, I wouldn't mind if you thought of me as a daughter substitute. I could never take Brigitte's place, and I wouldn't want to, but you could be my Godfather since I don't have one."
"You don't? I'm surprised. But, to answer your question, I'd very much like to be your official Godfather, if Aimee agrees. Yes, indeed. I'd be mighty pleased with that."
He stood up and took my hand. "What do you say we find something to eat? I'm famished."
✽✽✽
Over the next week, Maman had more good days than bad, and I waited for a sign from God. Stefan still suffered terrible headaches and planned to finish his term at home with Beau. I had mixed feelings. On one hand, if he stayed, Auntie might try to harm him. On the other, I had more time to get closer to him.
A few days later, Lucinda emerged from her bedroom and joined us for breakfast. She announced her intention to oversee the markets again, something she did in the old days before Brigitte was born. They weren't doing as well as she thought they should, and she blamed Uncle Phonse. He was right. She needed someone to blame. She blamed him and Maman and didn't disguise her increasing hostility.
Uncle tried to explain that specialty markets had sprouted up over the years. They took some business away. Even so, the markets earned hefty profits.
"Well, I don't like any decline. I must do something about it," she quipped.
Auntie needed something to occupy herself. This might take her mind off her grief, at least for part of the day.
"Stefan, you can come with me every Wednesday while you're home. It's high time you learned something useful. And, you must reconnect with Emilie. It's outrageous that you haven't contacted her since the ball. No visits, no letters, nothing. Her Maman expressed her disappointment to me after mass last Sunday.”
“I'm sorry about Emilie, but I don’t think she’s the right girl for me.”
I tried to conceal my excitement, elated that he had no interest in Emilie.
“I don’t mean to hurt her feelings, but what should I have done? Should I have led her on?”
Auntie continued to probe.
“Has your interest shifted to someone else, someone more suitable?”
“No, and I’m not looking for anyone either.”
My heart sank again.
“You could do a lot worse than Emilie, young man. Your background doesn’t recommend you to the highest echelons of society. Without the Martial connection, your marital choices would be limited.”
“Now, Lucinda, Stefan is a part of this family. You shouldn’t make him feel he isn’t.”
“I know she’s only looking out for my best interests, Uncle. I want to make a good match, too, but not now,” he turned to Auntie.
“I’m sorry I disappointed you with Emilie.” After a few minutes of silence, Uncle turned to Stefan.
“You need to do something about this, Stefan. There are ways to separate your affections for a young lady without hurting her pride. It wouldn’t be fair to let her indulge in the fantasy that you’re interested in her.”
“You’re right, but I don’t think she has that fantasy any longer. I’ll figure out a way to let her know my feelings have changed.”
“She knows they have changed. Stefan. She just doesn’t know why,” Uncle clarified what Stefan needed to do.
“Point well taken. I’ll take care of it.”
✽✽✽
The first Wednesday Auntie and Stefan left for the market, I told Felicie my suspicions about Auntie putting a "fix" on Stefan. I enlisted her help to search his room. She would know what to look for.
"Ain't you in 'nuff trouble already 'cause of your spells?"
"Yes, but it's not like that. I'd be looking for evidence that Auntie is trying to hurt Stefan. Is that a bad thing?"
"No, it ain't if you just gonna be lookin'. I don't wanna get on Auntie's bad side. If she finds out, no telling what she would do to me."
"If she finds out, I'll take all the blame. I'll even say I asked you to help, but you refused."
"No, you ain't gonna say that 'cause then she'd be mad at me for not telling her."
I hadn't thought about that.
"OK, I'll keep you out of it. I promise. Will you help me?" I begged.
"What you want me to do?"
"You know what to look for, don't you?"
"Mostly."
"I don't know as much as you."
Her attitude changed. She smiled with a sense of pride and gratitude, grateful for the recognition I gave her. Grateful I knew her value. Grateful that I showed her some respect. She rarely got that. She agreed to help.
We hunted for charms, bones, chicken feet, melted wax, black candles, gris-gris bags or anything unusual. I stripped the bed, inspected the pillows, looked under it and the rug for any evidence of a curse. I found nothing. Felicie sifted through the ashes in the fireplace and searched the shelves of the bookcase. When I started to search the armoire, she stopped me and explained she knew how to search it, leaving no evidence. I suspected she had used this skill before.
Not finding anything made me feel better and made me think my imagination had run away with me. That did not last.
"Well, well, well. Looky here."
"What?"
"On the back of this shelf."
"What?" I repeated.
"Someone done turned Stefan's picture face side down." She showed me an old framed picture of Stefan with Suzanne. They looked happy. Stefan held his big sister's hand and looked up at her with complete admiration. She looked just as Uncle Phonse described, beautiful and kind.
"Stefan loves this picture. It's the only one he's got of his sister. He keeps it out of sight in the armoire 'cause Auntie doesn't want any reminders Mr. Phonse had a wife before her."
"That sounds like Auntie, but what does it mean?"
"It's a Headache Curse." She continued.
"When you turn a picture of somebody upside down or face down, that means the person is gonna get head problems."
"That's what's causing his headaches?"
"Um hum."
"If you turn it over, won't that break the curse?"
"Sure, but Auntie will know somebody is on to her. That somebody would be you, not me."
"You're right. Is there anything we can do?"
"Don't know 'bout you, but I can."
"How?"
"Come to my room tonight. Make sure you don't make no noise. If you get caught, you just say you were gettin' a little snack."
Later, after everyone had gone to bed, I tiptoed to her room. A green candle stood on a plate next to her bed. She lit it while reciting:
Let this candle burn so bright.
That it burns
throughout the night.
Mold the wax into a ball.
On the object then install.
The next morning, while cleaning his room, Felicie removed the picture from its frame, pressed a small, thin disk made from the melted green wax onto the back of it, and put the picture back in the frame. She left the picture upside down so Auntie wouldn't be suspicious. I hoped this would work.
I avoided Maman as much as I could. I didn't want her to ask me questions that would require a lie, like what I had done or what was happening with Neni. When she appeared for breakfast a few days later, she surprised us. She hadn't joined us for breakfast in a week. I got out of my chair to give her an enormous hug.
"Careful, Gabbie, or you'll push me over. I'm still a little frail," she scolded, pushing me away gently.
Maman surprised me. She always absorbed my enthusiastic hugs. She wasn't half as pleased to see me as I was to see her.
"I'm sorry, Maman. It's just I'm so happy that you're getting stronger."
"And looking better!" Uncle added.
Maman looked better than her old self. Happy eyes replaced those once sad, distant ones.
"Well, well, well. Everyone seems to be better now," Auntie added. "Stefan isn't complaining so much about his awful headaches anymore."
She glared at Stefan, "Have they stopped?"
"Now that you mention it, Auntie, I haven't had a bad one for a few days now."
My stomach rose to my throat. She knew her spell no longer worked, but I hoped she didn't know why.
"And, Aimee, dear sister, how wonderful you are strong enough to join us for breakfast."
"Thank you, Lucinda, for taking such excellent care of me. I'm much better, and I've slept soundly the past few nights, not waking up fretting or worried. I'm feeling more like my old self again."
"And, as for you, Phonse, you have borne your grief so well, working hard at the market, spending so much time away from me."
Uncle Phonse admitted he found solace in work and prayer, but he added he worried about her.
"Me? Don't worry about me. Be thankful your relentless praying comforts you," she scoffed. "I know what keeps you away from home so much. You go to church every evening, praying in solitude for hours and hours. But, for what? Your prayers are as useless now as they were the day our daughter died."