Cursed (9 page)

The bus let her off on the backside, far corner of the block where her father’s apartment building was located. No matter which way she went, she’d have an equal distance to go around the block. She hurried down the street.

She kept close to the buildings in the hope of hiding beneath awnings from the rain and skirting clumps of people taking refuge. Trotting past the alley acting as a short cut through the block, she reached the opposite sidewalk and paused.

If she went through, she’d end up right at her dad’s building. If she continued, she had to finish circling the block. Her eyes settled on the familiar garbage dumpster near the other end of the alley. A few bums were huddled in soaked boxes or beneath rain ponchos, but none of them appeared to be a threat.

Wet iPad or run through the alley?
She asked herself.

She started down the alley at a jog. When she reached the center, she slowed some, glancing around. The rain had faded to a drizzle. She expected the guy in the red sweatshirt to appear out of thin air.

He didn’t.

Was she relieved, or did she want to see him? To ask him what he knew about her sister? In daylight, he wouldn’t be as scary. At least, she hoped he wouldn’t.

Adrienne reached the dumpster and paused again, glancing back.

Her heart leapt, and she stifled a cry of surprise.

He was there, where he’d been the night before, his features still hidden beneath a hood. Without the night to play tricks on her eyes, she was able to see his form this time. He was tall and strong, wearing the same baggy, dark jeans and red sweatshirt.

“Your daddy should’ve told you to stay out of the alleys,” he told her.

Adrienne clutched her purse to her chest, uncertain how to take his words. They were more of an observation than a threat. Hopefully, that meant he wasn’t the neighborhood serial killer.

“I’m sorry,” she said, glancing around. It was possible he lived there with the other bums, though she saw no makeshift shelters at this end of the alley. “I wanted to ask you how you knew my sister.”

“Why do you think I knew her?”

“I don’t know,” she murmured. “You knew her name. I thought maybe …”

He turned away as he had last night and began walking.

“Wait!” she called. “Will you at least tell me if you did know her?”

“Give me your name, sister of Therese.”

Adrienne swallowed hard.

He waited.

“Adrienne,” she whispered. “Adrienne St. Croix.”

“Yes, I knew her. Briefly.”

Emotion surged within her. Unable to sort through it, Adrienne was lost in her thoughts for a few seconds. His movement pulled her free.

“Wait!” she repeated. “Who are you? How did you know her? Did she -”

“One question, Adrienne,” he replied. “Which do you want me to answer?”

She thought furiously. Of all the things she wanted to know, she also feared learning the truth. What if her sister had been involved in something bad? Or died horribly? Was she ready to know?

“Your name,” she said.

“Jacques. People around here call me Jax.”

Jax. She’d look him up in Therese’s journal.

“How well did you know her?” she asked.

“Why?”

“I’m curious. It’d be real nice to know she had friends or something when she was here. Sometimes I think … well, I mean, they didn’t find no body.”

Jax faced her once more. “Don’t you go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“But she’s my sister.”

“Why you asking me all this? Did … someone contact you?”

“No. Like who?” she asked. “Police?”

“They have no idea what goes on around here.” Jax chuckled. “Listen, sister of Therese. These are my streets. Nothing happens that I don’t now about, and I determines what happens to people who don’t listen to me. I don’t want to hear of you asking these kinds of questions. You hear me?”

She swallowed hard.

“Do you?” he demanded.

She nodded.

“What happened to your sister is none of your business.” He turned away and began walking once more.

“I miss her,” she murmured.

“She didn’t die, Adrienne,” he replied without stopping. “Be a good girl and drop it.”

Taken aback, she watched him walk the length of the alley the way he had last night.

She’d been to Therese’s funeral, which they’d held in New Orleans. Even if she didn’t recall much about her eldest sister, the funeral was emblazoned in her memory. The transition to spirithood was a time to celebrate among the voodoo community, and there was no funeral procession like one in New Orleans. She’d been in awe of the days of magical rites honoring ancestors and gods, and the colorful, musical procession to the graveyard that featured a band of horns and the presence of every family member and friend they’d ever met. They’d had leftovers of flavorful Creole food for weeks.

Maybe Jax didn’t know her sister after all.

Except that his words only confirmed the instinct that grew more insistent by the day. There was a reason she was receiving mysterious sticky notes and her sister’s journal. She was meant to dig into her sister’s disappearance, perhaps to prevent her own fate at the hands of the curse.

She didn’t die.
What if Jax spoke the truth? Was this why the mark of the curse was on Adrienne’s shoulder?

Adrienne hurried inside, itching to read the journal for any mention of him.

Her father was home early, sitting on the couch with a beer. He wore his work pants from the mechanic shop and a white t-shirt. The two-bedroom apartment was cluttered and filled with oversized furniture that made it feel even smaller, and his legs were slung over the wide coffee table splitting the space between the couch and television stand.

“Rough day, Daddy?” she called as she walked in. She dropped her book bag near the door.

“Your mother called me at work about child support. I’m working double time now. Gonna have to get another job to pay for the kids.”

“That sucks.”

“I’m doing my best, pun’kin.”

Adrienne went to the kitchen to start dinner. She put a pot of water on the stove before running to change out of her wet clothes. Upon returning, she picked up the phone from the counter. There was no dial tone.

“Um, Daddy, did you pay the phone bill?”

“Nah. I had to cut out some things last month.”

“Omigod, dad!” she exclaimed. “I have
friends!
How am I supposed to talk to them and remind Lilian when to give Mama her meds? What if I get a boyfriend?”

“Tell your mama to put you on her cell plan. Probably cheaper than my monthly bill. Don’t they give out phones for free now anyway?”

Adrienne ignored him, wishing he’d consider her every once in a while. She took care of him and even chipped in for groceries.

Then again, he was sending the extra money to her mother to help support the three sisters Adrienne left behind in Atlanta. Was she being selfish?

She tied her hair back and checked the pot on the stove.

Her dad moved to the doorway, frowning. “You have a boyfriend already?”

“No, Daddy.”

With a sigh, he sat down at the cramped table in the kitchen. Adrienne handed him a new beer then set out their plates.

“I can’t believe you’re seventeen,” he mumbled. “You should have a boyfriend. But I don’t want you to. This is what they call denial.”

“Oh, god. Have you been reading one of them self-help books again?” she asked with a smile.

“Them self-help books say not to drink,” he pointed out and lifted his beer. “You’re beautiful, Adrienne, almost as pretty as Therese. You should have a boyfriend.”

She rolled her eyes at him again.

“Just don’t get knocked up. Remember your dating rules.”

“No dating anyone with darker skin than mine. That’d be racist, Daddy.”

“Read the stats. Most black boys end up in prison as criminals. They get no education and will use you for money.”

“I don’t have no money,” she said. “You’re still bitter about the War of Northern Aggression, Daddy.
My
generation is way beyond that.” Her thoughts went to the guy from the cafeteria. He was way too good looking to be interested in someone like her anyway. But if he were …

“I met someone.”

She whirled, surprised. “Who? Where?” she demanded.

“Her name’s Candace. She brought her car into the shop a month ago and came back to pick it up today. Real pretty. Her family owns a coffee shop.”

He was in a good mood, a rare occurrence from her experience living with him the past two weeks. Adrienne was burning to know more about her oldest sister. She’d always feared asking her daddy anything. A glance at the smile on his face made her think he might humor her.

“Daddy,” she started. “What happened the day Therese disappeared?”

The glow left his eyes. His features grew shuttered, and for a long moment, he was still enough to be a statue. Finally, he responded.

“Don’t never ask me about that, Adrienne.”

She swallowed hard, disappointed and upset she’d caused him pain. She turned away and dropped macaroni into the boiling pot.

“Sorry, Daddy,” she whispered. “I miss her.”

“You should know better than to talk about such a thing.”

“I know, Daddy.” Adrienne cleared her throat and watched the pasta swirl in the pot. After a tense moment, she changed the subject. “So…what’s Candace like?”

“She’s special,” he replied. He had recovered from her question, though the glow in his eyes hadn’t yet returned. “Real special.”

“Pretty?”

“Beautiful.”

Smiling, Adrienne drained the macaroni in the sink with a glance in his direction. “You really like this Candace lady?”

“Yeah.” He was thoughtful. “It’s the first time I’ve felt…good. Just talking to her.”

“Daddy, that’s wonderful,” Adrienne said. “Really. Are you going on a date?”

“Lunch date tomorrow.” A slow smile crossed his face, something she hadn’t seen in too long. “We might go out this weekend, too.”

“Can I meet her?”

He hesitated. “I’m protective of my little girl. It might be too early.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I won’t be.”

“Omigod.” She mixed in the cheese powder, butter and milk, making his favorite meal of mac’ n’ cheese from a box. He was easy to please, and she was starving after the salad she had for lunch. “You want chips?”

“Yeah.”

Adrienne crossed to the tiny pantry and retrieved a bag of chips for him. She placed bowls on the two plastic place mats on the table and sat down across from him.

“How was school?” he asked.

“Meh.”

“What’s the adult translation?”

“It was school,” she said with a shrug. “Made a friend, might’ve ruined one uniform after spilling soda on it. Vocals went awesome. The instructor is fantastic.”

“Did you tell what them talent scouts at the mall said?”

“Yes, Daddy. She was impressed. Said I might just have what it takes to get into one of them jazz bands. She wants to work with me first, but says I got a good future in music.”

“She sounds real nice.”

“She is.”

“How are the snotty rich kids?”

“Just like any other kids,” she said. “I miss my old school. It’s scary to start over somewhere new.”

“Don’t I know it. Like with Candace. I keep thinking I’ll mess it up, like I did with your mom.”

“You’ll do fine, Daddy. You’re a good man.” Adrienne smiled at him. After their disastrous venture into the topic of Therese, she was happy to hear that he was interested in dating someone. “I really want to meet her.”

“I’ll think about it. You’ve gotta work this weekend anyway. That puff cereal you like ain’t free.”

“I know,” she murmured. She was paying for her lunch money, books, clothes, basically everything she needed while in town. “I’m helping pay my own way like I promised when I got into the rich kid school, aren’t I?”

“You are,” he agreed. “I appreciate it, Addy. I can’t afford to have you living with me otherwise. You’d be back with your mama.”

“God gave me my gift for a reason,” she told him. “Don’t you worry, Daddy. Things will get better and I’ll take care of you and Mama. I promise.”

“I reckon you will.” He was despondent again, and Adrienne guessed his thoughts were on Therese.

They ate in silence, and she retrieved her backpack from the foyer. Her dad returned to the television, and she pulled out the iPad containing all her textbook files and homework.

What she didn’t tell him: some of the classes were beyond her. The kids were much more cultured and advanced than she was after years in a school more focused on the bible than math and science. She felt like she was reading Dr. Seuss while they were quoting Shakespeare. It’d take a lot of work to keep up and pass the classes. Her scholarship required at least C grades across the board.