Standing at the Scratch Line (91 page)

An image flashed across Serena’s consciousness of her arriving in San Francisco without Amos and having to explain to King that he didn’t come because of LaValle. Tears started running down her cheeks. “Please, Amos! Please, don’t do this! It’ll never happen again, I swear to God!”

With a vision that seemed beyond his years Amos said, “What we want ain’t real, Rena! Like what Daddy want ain’t real. He want me to stand shoulder to shoulder with him in church singin’ hymns on Sunday and he want to beat me for no good reason on Monday with a horsewhip and then expect me to be back in church with him the followin’ Sunday. It just ain’t real.” Amos stood up and said, “I’s ready to go now, Rena. Do I got to walk back or can I get a ride?”

“Amos, I’m begging you to wait until tomorrow morning,” Serena pleaded. “If you still want to go then, I’ll have you driven back to Reverend Small’s farm. Please do this for me.”

“Okay, Rena, if that’s what you want, but I don’t see what’s gon’ change by tomorrow.”

“Thank you. Thank you, Amos,” Serena rushed forward and hugged her brother. “I’m so sorry, Amos. Please forgive me!”

The sincerity of his sister’s words and the pain in her voice caused Amos to break down and put his arms around her. She sobbed on his shoulders and Amos, feeling awkward, patted her on her back as he had seen mothers do to crying children. “It gon’ be alright, Sis,” he said encouragingly.

From the adjoining suite came the sound of LaValle’s heavy coughing. Serena pushed back from Amos. “You’ve always been such a help to me. You’re the best brother I could have. I love you and I promise to treat you right.” She turned and walked through the connecting door. Shortly thereafter, the door closed and Amos was left with his own thoughts.

It was a difficult night for Serena. LaValle had a fever and his coughing had grown more frantic and grating. Several times during the night, she sent down for hot tea and cold compresses. Around one in the morning there was a soft knock on her door. She was tired and irritated. LaValle had finally fallen into a fitful and restless sleep. Wearily, she got up and answered the door. In the hallway stood one of the maids on the hotel staff along with another woman. The second woman wore a bright yellow bandana tied around her head and had numerous gold bangles hanging from her ears. She was brown skinned and had deep-set, penetrating black eyes.

“This here is Sister Bornais,” introduced the maid. “She got potions and poultices and herbs that can cure yo’ boy. I thought maybe you might want to let her see yo chile.”

Even as a child, Serena had heard of Sister Bornais. Serena’s mother had often called on her to assist with difficult childbirths. Serena stepped back and opened the door wide. She was not going stand in the way of anyone who could help her son.

Sister Bornais gestured to the maid. “You best come on in with me, Mattie. I maybe gon’ need yo help!”

Serena led the two women to LaValle’s bed. Sister Bornais knelt down by the boy’s sleeping form and sniffed the air above him. Then she placed a hand on his sweating forehead and within minutes his fitfulness stopped and he sank into a deep sleep. Serena watched from an overstuffed chair. Her mother had once told her that Sister Bornais was no run-of-the-mill voodoo woman. She had special powers. Watching Sister Bornais at work, Serena believed what she had been told. Her son was sleeping deeply for the first time in days.

Sister Bornais sent Mattie down to brew some tea with some herbs that she gave her. After the maid left, Sister Bornais took out a mortar and pestle and began grinding up small batches of herbs and other materials. She wrapped each batch up in cheesecloth and tied it in a tight little packet. Mattie returned with a mug of hot tea. Sister Bornais dropped one of the packets she had prepared into the mug and waited for it to cool. Once it was cool enough, she awakened LaValle, who started to whimper, but Sister Bornais quieted him with a gentle caress and guided the cup to his lips. He gulped down the potion as if he possessed an unremitting thirst. He was asleep and snoring before she laid him back down on his bed.

Sister Bornais turned to Serena and said, “This chile’s just got a tetch of the ague. He’ll be over it by tomorrow eve.”

“Thank God!” Serena said gratefully.

“The ague ain’t really his problem,” Sister Bornais continued. “It’s just the way the real problem show itself. This here boy is troubled, troubled by spirits, and I can’t get no clear picture from him. Let me hold yo’ hand.”

Serena got up and went over to Sister Bornais. She extended her hand. Sister Bornais took it in her leathery grip for a few minutes and then jerked as if she had been shocked.

“You King Tremain’s woman!” Sister Bornais stated.

Serena looked at Mattie before she answered. “Yes, I’m married to King Tremain.”

“She didn’t tell me nothin’, girl! I knows all about you! Yo’ mama was Rebecca Baddeaux. I see it all in yo’ hand!” She turned to the maid and said, “You can go now, Mattie. You been a big help.” After the maid left, Sister Bornais turned back to Serena and said, “You’s King’s wife, but this ain’t his son. I see from yo’ hand that King got two sons, but this chile here sho’ ain’t one of them.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Fear gripped Serena’s throat. Would LaValle ever escape the nature of his birth? She declared indignantly, “You must be listening to idle gossip!”

“The sign don’t lie,” Sister Bornais said with a frown. “I see three boys, two related through their father and two related through their mother. The sign say that you and King only had one chile together.”

Serena was having difficulty breathing. She didn’t want to talk anymore. “I don’t see that my children are any business of yours! Perhaps it’s time you leave!”

“Perhaps,” Sister Bornais mused, not making any effort to move. “What I don’t see is why you’s actin’ so hincty about this. It be clear to me that you knows what I’m talkin’ about. I just can’t see why you’s denyin’ it! Let me see yo’ hand again.”

Serena pulled back. “I don’t think that’s necessary. You’ve told me all I need to know.”

Sister Bornais sucked her teeth and then said in an angry tone, “If that was so, I’d have got up and left. There’s plenty people who’d pay good money for what I’s tellin’ you for free. But I owe it to King Tremain to try to right the wrong I see hangin’ over his boys’ heads. I didn’t ask for this, it come to me. I just see things, kinda ’round the corner; sometime it be days, sometime it be years; sometime it’s a vision, sometime it’s a feelin and sometime I just know, like I been there and witnessed it. And with you, I is witnessing. I is tellin’ the buck-naked truth! There ain’t no mistake!”

“Please sell your powers somewhere else,” Serena said, standing up. “I’m really tired. I haven’t slept in—”

“Sit down and shut up, girl, ’less’n you wants me to leave a curse on yo’ head!”

Aghast, Serena sat down.

“What I see is this. If’en you want to help this here chile, you got to help his older brother. The problem with this here chile is there is a spirit that be hangin’ over him like a dark cloud. Only way to get rid of that spirit is to do right by the oldest. I’s beginnin’ to see it now. You got the power to change it all for the better, but for some reason you won’t.” Sister Bornais took Serena’s hand and studied it carefully.

“But I got a clear vision of what’s gon’ happen if’en you don’t do right. This chile gon’ be a mama’s boy all his life, which ain’t gon’ be that long really, and mo’ than that, he gon’ be the cause of the death of his youngest brother. You don’t follow what I say, you gon’ be left with no sons at all! King’s oldest boy gon’ be alright no matter what you do, he just won’t ever know his daddy. If’en you keeps to the path you’s travelin’, you ain’t gon’ have no chil’ren and the only decent grandchile you gon’ have is gon’ hate you. You done messed with a powerful and vengeful spirit! You done stuck yo’ finger in destiny’s business and ’less’n you right it, you’s got an unhappy life ahead! If you don’t take care of it right, I see it spreadin’ to yo’ family members, to yo’ sisters and yo’ brother, stopping yo’ kin’s seed from flourishing, makin’ you the only chile from yo’ family that bears chil’ren. You best take heed and pay the price to make that spirit move on! I can’t say it no clearer and what will be will be.”

The color had drained from Serena’s face. She sat as if she had been turned to stone. Her eyes were sightless as she stared out into an invisible distance. She made no motion as Sister Bornais got slowly to her feet. Serena remained frozen in her position. Only Sister Bornais saw the connecting door to the adjoining room close quietly, but she said nothing as she gathered her belongings and left the room.

Amos had been ready to sneak out and make his own way back to the Smalls’ ranch when he opened his door and saw Sister Bornais with one of the maids standing in the hall at Serena’s door. The mention of Sister Bornais’s name had him filled with curiosity. She was a legend throughout the parish as an expert in voodoo and black magic. People traveled hundreds of miles to buy her gris-gris. He couldn’t leave without hearing at least one of her spells. He had cracked the door as quietly as he could and listened intently. He heard everything and it stunned him. After closing the door, Amos went and sat on the edge of his bed.

What did it mean, “ ‘. . . if Serena didn’t do right by the oldest?’ ” Who was this other son and why did Serena have to do right by him? And could Sister Bornais really predict that LaValle would always be a mama’s boy, or that he would be the cause of his younger brother’s death? Amos wasn’t quite sure what Sister Bornais meant when she said that Serena would be the only one in her family to bear children. Della was already pregnant and due in three months. It was confusing, but he knew one thing was for sure: Serena was in trouble and she needed help.

Amos put his bundles against the wall and began to undress. He couldn’t leave his older sister while she was in such distress. She might need him to help her do the things she had to do to chase away the evil spirit. As he went to sleep he envisioned dangerous journeys and foreign cities.

Sunday morning was overcast, and a cool breeze came off the gulf, smelling of salt sea and foretelling of rain. The gray, rain-laden clouds lay in the south far out to sea, but they were marching inexorably northward across the sky like a dark army ready to envelop all in its billowing grasp. Against the pale gray of the sheathing clouds, the sun had barely made its presence known. Only a fading rust-colored tinge low on the eastern horizon gave evidence that the sun had indeed risen.

When Serena knocked on the connecting door between their rooms, Amos was dressed and staring out the window at the continuous parade of vendors on the street below. “Good morning. May I come in?” she asked.

Amos gave her smile and said, “Sho’, don’t see why not.”

“I’ve come to apologize,” Serena began. “I want you to know that wherever we are, you will have a right to privacy and LaValle will not be allowed to interfere or trespass against you. You don’t have to worry about anyone bothering your banjo again! Oh, here is something that I think you need.” Serena handed Amos a package of banjo strings.

“Gosh, thanks. These are top quality! When did you get these?”

“I sent out for them yesterday,” Serena replied as she turned and walked over to the bags of new clothing. She pointed to them. “These are yours. You owe me nothing. Accept them like your family has bought you clothing. You don’t need to feel obligation. We have volunteered to assume the responsibility of helping you get to manhood: clothing, food, and education are all part of that. I want you to know the reason you’re with us is that we’re family and we love you.”

“Gosh, thanks, Sis. I mean, uh, really, uh—I ain’t got no words. I just want us to be family too.”

“We are family!” Serena affirmed. “I’d just like to explain about LaValle. I’ve never said this before, but it’s taken me a while to reach this conclusion. LaValle’s got some special problems, but I’m working to resolve them. I hope I can count on your assistance with him. He’s still a little boy. I hope you can find it in your heart to give him a few more chances.”

“No problem, Sis. We’s family!”

“Good! Good! The last big question, will you come with us to California?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, Sis. Wouldn’t miss it!”

Serena smiled with relief and gave him a hug. “When we get out there, I’ll find you the best banjo teacher around. What do you say?”

“Sounds good to me, sounds real good!”

The day passed quickly. LaValle, Serena, and Amos attended church with Della and her husband’s family. Afterward, there was a barbecue at Della’s father-in-law’s house. People were playing cards, especially whist and pinochle, and there were a couple of horseshoe games going on as well. Children were playing tag and kick the can, while the adolescents stood on the fringes and talked in soft murmurs. It turned out to be a wonderful day. Although the sky had threatened a heavy storm, there were only a couple of showers and then the sun escaped from its gray prison and turned its brilliant smile upon the earth.

Amos was pleased to see Della. She was six months pregnant and looked so happy and beautiful. She was filled with laughter and her husband seemed to have a good spirit as well. There were many jokes and signifying remarks directed at Charles Baddeaux, but on the whole their exchanges rose above his banal existence. Finally, when the mosquitoes came out to take charge of the evening air, it was called a day. LaValle was asleep on Serena’s lap as they were driven back to the hotel. Amos was exhausted himself, but on the edge of sleep he heard Serena ask the driver, a man from southeast Texas, about colored orphanages in that region of Texas. He replied that he knew only of one in a little town outside of Port Arthur that was run by the Oblate Nuns, the oldest order of colored nuns in the United States.

On Monday, Serena hired a car. Both LaValle and Amos accompanied her as she made various stops around the city as she prepared for their departure the next day. One stop was at a colored orphanage for girls. The orphanage was located on the bottom floor of a run-down cathedral. LaValle and Amos could hear the high-pitched voices of the girls all the way out in the car, which was parked off the grounds. The next stop was a lawyer’s office, then the bank, and after that a shipping office near the wharf. It was a long day, even though Amos and LaValle seemed to have worked out a truce. LaValle didn’t bother Amos and Amos returned the favor.