Possessed (24 page)

Mrs. LaPlante insisted that the land
was simply going to waste if it just sat there. She wasn’t like
Jacques at all. Jacques was warm while she was cold and indifferent
towards us. I could tell that she never truly loved him but wanted
him for his name and wealth. Although her family was supposedly
wealthy we had heard rumors of how they were facing massive amounts
of debt. It was common practice, especially among the wealthy, to
put on false appearances.

I stayed because there was simply
nowhere to run and somewhere deep within me I still held hope that
he would remember me. I suppose that an outsider looking in on my
life would have called me foolish for not trying to gain my
independence and running for my life but I knew that there was no
point in running if it wasn’t going to get me anywhere worth being.
The truth was I wanted to be by Jacques’ side; it was the only true
freedom I’d ever known.

Jacques was never cruel to any of the
slaves but the drivers were terrifying and harsh. They put on an
act whenever he was around and the brutality that went on in the
fields was well hidden.

I was fortunate enough to work in the
big house as a nurse and a cook and rarely ever had to help out in
the fields, but that brought its own set of problems.

“
Why are you leering at my
husband?” Mrs. LaPlante caught me shamelessly daydreaming while
staring at Jacques.

I couldn’t help it. With every passing
year he became increasingly handsome. Having the one you loved so
close yet so far was like living in a state of eternal turmoil and
despair. I wanted to hold him, smell the scent of his warm skin and
run my fingers through his hair. A few years ago they would have
been such simple gestures but now they were impossible. I imagined
that this is what death would be like. Being so close to the one
you love but being unable to touch or communicate with them. To
Jacques, I was dead.

I lowered my head as I placed the tea
on the table. “Sorry,” I muttered, as I fought back bitter
tears.

She grabbed my wrist and dug her claws
into it. Her wide brown eyes were deceptively kind on the surface
but I could see right through them. I could see her soul and it was
full of greed and hunger. “Don’t you ever look at him.” She knew
that I knew what she had done.

Arelia would have shouted screw you,
but Marie simply nodded.

I had resolved never to ask the spirits
to cause harm to another person. After all the pain I’d experienced
throughout my life, the last thing I wanted was to transfer that to
another person. Besides, the world I lived in was one which was
full of fear and superstition. The whispers of Voodoo-related
arrests and persecutions sent shivers down my spine. Even though
everyone knew that wealthy upper class woman employed Voodoo Queens
to land husbands, case in point Mrs. LaPlante, all of that was
swept under the rug. The public was made to believe that
Voodoo/Hoodoo was a savage and heathen practice that involved mass
human sacrifice and spirits that were only pleased through lewd
acts. The truth was people feared what they didn’t understand.
People feared what made them uncomfortable. I made the world
uncomfortable, so I bowed my head and tried to fit in as best as I
could.

I took a deep breath and mumbled some
excuse about all the work I had to do. Instead, I grabbed a knife
and snuck out to the rose garden. When all hope was lost and I felt
like I had nothing to live for anymore the rose garden was the one
thing that kept me going.

The air was sticky and sweet. It was
March and the world was coming alive again. The white and pink
roses danced around me and at that second I knew I needed Jacques
to recognize me, even if it only was for a moment. I needed him to
remember so that maybe he could free himself. I needed to feel his
love.

Under a large bush of pink roses I kept
a secret altar decided to Erzulie. I stabbed myself seven times and
called upon her:

Seven stabs of the knife,
seven stabs of the dagger,

Lend me the basin so I can
vomit my blood,

Seven stabs of the knife,
seven stabs of the dagger,

Lend me the basin so I can
vomit my blood,

My blood is pouring
down.

“
Marie. Marie. Some things
are meant to be but cannot because others make them impossible,”
whispered Erzulie.

I kneeled on the wet ground.
“Why?”

“
I know you’re in pain, my
child, but do not give up hope. Never give up hope that tomorrow
will bring a better day and a brighter future.”

“
Give me a reason to stay
hopeful. Please make Jacques remember me, even if it’s only for a
few hours, please. That will give me enough hope to last the rest
of my life. Please.”

“
A price needs to paid, you
know that. Are you willing to exchange your freedom for a few hours
of his love? Are you willing to be a slave at Darkwood for the rest
of your life?”

I nodded without even thinking about
it. I wasn’t free anyways. The world I lived in was that of rules
and restrictions that were so oppressive that even if I gained my
freedom, it would be in name only. The only freedom I had ever
known was in Jacques’ embrace. “Yes. Yes.”

“
Very well, my dear. Very
well. Come back here tonight and he will recognize you, but only
for a few hours.”

“
Thank you. Thank you,
Erzulie.”

That night I put on my cleanest dress.
Sadly I was back to wearing potato sacks but I didn’t care. I knew
that Jacques would look past my outer appearance and directly into
my soul. He had been the only one who had bothered doing
that.

The moon was the exact same shape and
size it had been when I had met Jacques in the swamp. My heart
raced as I stepped inside the rose garden. The sweet smell of roses
surrounded me and when I saw the outline of Jacque’s broad
shoulders under the moonlight I nearly fainted.

“
Jacques.”

He turned around and our eyes met. He
was my Jacques. “Marie.” His eyes filled with tears, as he ran
towards me and took me into his arms. “Marie, m'ange de le lux. I
feel like I’ve woken up from a nightmare. What’s
happened?”

“
We don’t have much time,” I
said, as I took his hand and ran towards the swamp.

The moon guided us as we fought our way
through the maze of wild oak branches. The swamp animals hummed and
sang as if they were welcoming us back after a long
absence.

“
Do you remember?” I asked
him, as I guided him to the spot where we had first met.

“
The last thing I remember
is waiting for you at the ball, but you never came back and then
the world went dark.” He examined me intently. “Why do you look so
sad, Marie. What have I done?”

I let out a small sigh. There was no
point in explaining it to him. Even if I did he wouldn’t remember
and I didn’t want to waste the precious few hours Erzulie had
granted me. I softly stroked his stubbly cheek and looked deep into
his troubled eyes. “Nothing. You’ve done absolutely nothing wrong.
Look,” I said, as I pointed up at the sky and tried to get a smile
out of him. I wanted to remember him exactly as he had been. “We’re
always going to hop from the stars to the moon and then back again
in a world that doesn’t have outdated rules and
regulations.”

He smiled and his face lit up. He held
me close, and when his lips pressed against mine the ugliness
seemed to disappear again.

Chapter 37

My Baby

New Orleans, December,
1836

My baby was born on Christmas day. He
looked exactly like his daddy from the moment he came into the
world. He loved to smile and found wonder and joy in everything.
Everything from his chubby little toes to his deep eyes were
perfect. When I held him in my arms for the first time I sobbed
uncontrollably. Not because I was happy. I was devastated and
heartbroken that I wouldn’t be able to give him the life he
deserved. I brought him into this world, but he would never be able
to be free because of whom I was. I was torn because he could have
had such a wonderful life if it wasn’t for the ugly world we lived
in and the circumstances that surrounded us. However, from that day
forward, Louis became my light, joy, reason for living and hope
that there would be a brighter future to look forward
to.

I told everyone that he was the son of
William Jones. William Jones was a runaway slave of mixed race who
had recently been attacked and killed by blood-thirsty hounds. No
one questioned who his daddy was, and if they did they dared not
say it aloud. The last thing Mrs. LaPlante wanted to hear was that
her husband had gotten a lowly slave pregnant, especially when she
had just given birth herself. Even if they did say anything,
Jacques would adamantly deny it because he didn’t remember any of
it. He didn’t remember us.

Lucus LaPlante was born on the exact
same day as his brother. He was a little angel with a mop of loose
curls and eager eyes. He was an exact replica of his father, and it
wounded me just to look at him; yet I always wanted to make sure he
was safe and protected. I nursed him anytime he was ill, sometimes
even leaving Louis alone in the cabin. I loved them both equally
and with all my heart. I sang them the same lullaby:

Hush-a-bye, don't you
cry,

Go to sleepy little
baby.

When you wake, you shall
have,

All the pretty little
ponies.

Blacks and bays, dapples
and greys,

Go to sleepy you little
baby,

Hush-a-bye, don't you
cry,

Go to sleepy little
baby.

Daddy's boy Mama's
joy

Watching my poor Louis suffer and work
in the fields was heartbreaking, but he was eternally hopefully and
joyful. Before my eyes Louis and Lucus transformed into handsome
young men who led very different lives. I found it funny that I was
the only one who bothered to notice how similar they were. I
suppose when you really love someone you search for a piece of them
in everyone around you.

I dreamt of a day where Louis and Lucus
could officially meet and embrace each other as brothers, but given
my situation, that day seemed like a distant dream. I kept my head
down and avoided drawing attention to myself or to Louis. Sometimes
the only chance of survival you have is keeping your head down and
hoping that tomorrow will be worth living for.

Chapter 38

My Death

New Orleans 1853

It happened on a dreadfully rainy
night. The fever was running wild at that time and the state of
Louisiana was in a constant state of fear and paranoia. I had
warned Lucus may times that he should stay away from the city but
he was wild and never paid attention to warnings. He was too busy
gambling, drinking and taking part in the chaos that drew so many
to the most prosperous city in America.

“
Marie! Marie! They need you
in the main house. Lucus is dying from the fever!” shouted Simon,
another slave.

I grabbed my bag of herbs and oils, and
without thinking started to run towards the main house. Watching
Lucus die would be the same as watching Louis die- there was no way
I was going to allow that to happen. As I ran, I grew weaker and
weaker until I fell into a hole so deep and so dark, I knew that I
would never return to the land of the living again. The last thing
I remember was rain drops bouncing off my body and attempting to
wash away the ugliness that had surrounded so much of my life. I
wasn’t angry or sad that my life had ended the way it did. I was
worried that I left my baby alone in darkness and he would never
know what happened to me.

Eventually, piles of dirt were thrown
on top of me and Papa Ghede called my name.

“
Marie. Marie. Time to party
with us on the other side.”

“
No. Please. Please.” My
soul knew that my baby was in trouble and there was nothing I could
do to help him.

“
Marie. Marie. Do you really
wish to stay in that cemetery until the end of time? You’ve got an
awfully long wait, darling.”

“
Yes, please. I need to
makes sure my baby is safe.”

“
You do realize that if you
ever hope to leave this cemetery, another soul needs to stay here
in your place and you need to use their body to communicate with
the living?”

“
I understand. I’ll wait
till the end of time to make sure he’s safe. I’ll wait forever and
forever. It doesn’t matter how long.”

Chapter 39

Of Course

My head emerged from under the filthy
swamp water and I was relieved to find that I was back in my body,
even though I was utterly drained and exhausted. Walking a mile, or
a few years, in someone else’s shoes was a lot harder than most
people assumed. What I had seen had left me horrified and shocked
beyond belief, but above all it left me with more understanding. I
had felt Marie’s pain and her love. I had shared her grief and her
hopes. I could understand why she made the choices she did. She
wasn’t mad at all. She was just a girl who had a really hard life
under really difficult circumstances.