Healing the Bayou (14 page)

“Shh,” he demanded. “Get dressed!”

“What the hell, Samuel?”

After he finished pulling up his pants, he charged toward me, so I stood to face him.

“Look…” He jerked my chin up to meet his gaze. “I have the rest of my life to make love to you, and I intend to do it every single night for as long as you let me. But right now, we have to go. There’s a festival today just on the other side of that bridge, and somebody is going to catch us.”

My face heated. Every single night? I was up for that, for sure. I really didn’t care if anyone found us, but I could tell how uncomfortable he was, so I went along with it and searched for my undergarments. Hanging on a bush right next to us I found my panties, but for the life of me I couldn’t find my bra. Samuel told me to leave it. I vowed to come back and look for it after the festival. Every girl had their favorite and this one was mine.

We scrambled to his car and took the short two minute drive back to Aunt Vivian’s, where he cut the engine and quietly coasted into her driveway. The clock on the dash read 9:54, so we knew we had no chance of sneaking in before she woke up. She made a habit of being awake at 7:00 a.m. sharp, no exceptions.

Having prepared ourselves to be questioned about why we had come home at midnight with Camille and Marcus, we had all planned to say we spent the night out on the town together dancing and drinking, doing what all twenty-somethings do to have fun. But we had no rehearsed explanation for coming home the next morning, especially sans Camille and Marcus.

We crept up the porch and peeked in the window. Around the table sat Aunt Vivian and the rest of the household, laughing about some witty story Marcus was telling. She didn’t look mad. Maybe she didn’t know we weren’t in our rooms.

“OK.” Samuel started with his plan. “I’ll help you climb up the tree to your window. Wait at least twenty minutes before you come downstairs.”

By the looks of my reflection off the window pane it, was going to take at least forty-five minutes for me to get myself presentable. My hair looked like a rat’s nest with sticks and leaves sewn in. I couldn’t believe I let him see me this way. He looked perfect, as always, and without any effort. It really wasn’t fair.

“What are you going to do?”

“She’s used to me staying out all night. After you’re up the tree, I’ll just walk in and sit down. She won’t suspect anything.”

It was better than anything that I could come up with, and if Samuel had proved anything last night, it was lifting me was not a challenge for him. I trusted that he wouldn’t let me fall.

Slithering along the side of the house, dipping under any windows that we came across in the most theatrical fashion imaginable. It was as if we were playing a game of hide-and-seek, and judging by his exaggerated steps, he was having as much fun as I was. My stomach clenched in response to the far too rare, boyish grin.

He hoisted me onto a low-hanging branch. I drew my leg up over and straddled the bark. Thank God I had found my underwear, or I could have ended up with splinters in the most inconvenient of locations. After shimmying as far as I thought the wood would hold me, I carefully brought my feet underneath me and pushed myself up to a squat. Stretching my arms out, I opened the old window frame to my bedroom.

Once I ungracefully hopped from the branch to inside with a stealthy silence, I gave one last glance down to give Samuel a signal that I was good to go, but he had already gone. My chest compressed with disappointment. I already I missed him.

I really didn’t want to shower. I wanted to keep his scent on my skin as long as it would last, but if I was reasonable about it, I had to imagine that to someone else the smoky smell of the bonfire was probably far more noticeable than his pheromones were. Besides, my hair was going to need some serious conditioning if I was going to accomplish anything at all with it.

After a hot, twenty-minute wash, I slipped into a pair of Camille-short white shorts and a form fitting black and white striped shirt with sleeves that came to my elbows. Another thirty minutes to straighten my hair and apply my mask and I was finally ready to make an appearance. Quietly, I tiptoed down the staircase and casually strolled into the kitchen.

“Well good morning, sleepyhead,” Aunt Vivian teased.

“I’m sorry I overslept.” Flashing a weak smile, I sat between her and Camille at the table.

I wouldn’t let myself look at Samuel, who was sitting on top of the island counter top with a bowl of cereal in his hands, still in the clothes he was wearing when I left him. I knew the moment I did look at him my face would give away something had happened. I could hardly keep from grinning like a love sick school girl as it was.

“Are you feeling all right?” Vivian rested her flattened hand on my forehead. “You look flushed.”

“I’m fine. I just had a long night. I couldn’t get myself to sleep.”

“Were you dreaming?”

“I think I must’ve been.” I pinched my own arm under the table to stop myself from giggling.

“I would say you were having nightmares from the sound of it.” Camille came to the rescue. “You were tossing and turning all night long.”

“You know, I had the strangest dream last night,” Aunt Vivian said. “It was about your initiation.”

“My what?”

“Your baptism. I’m sure you haven’t decided yet, but I swear the Spirits were trying to tell me you were to call on Damballah for direction during your ceremony.”

“Um, who…who is Damballah?”

It was harder to play dumb than I had thought it would be. This was all supposed to be new information. I listened to her repeat Camille’s explanation from the night before and feigned an interest in it, forcing myself to not let my mind drift back to Samuel.

“I see.” I took a sip from the coffee Camille had just handed me. “Why do you think someone so important would want to speak with me?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea. Maybe there’s some news he wants to share with you, or us. Or maybe just you.”

For just a moment the faintest slip of bitterness swept across her face before she took control of herself again and pushed it back, replacing it with a smile intended to convey that she was proud of me. I wasn’t buying it.

She didn’t really give me a reason other than the phony act she was putting on, but I had the urge to call her out. I was wishing to the Spirits that they had given me some cold, hard facts to lay on the table. If I had them, I probably would have said something. For now all I knew was she was pretending, but that was enough. My mother always taught me to be an honest person and to never lie about who you were. I couldn’t wait to expose this woman for what she really was, whatever that may be.

Samuel picked up on my quick turn to vengeance and decided now was a good time to bring his bowl to the sink, which happened to be directly me behind me. When he was through cleaning up after himself, he stood behind me, massaging my shoulders as if trying to melt the anger from me. It was working. His firm, rough hands kneaded the knots that were loosening into submission, and my mood returned to a more mellow state. Until I picked up on the fact that everybody was staring at us.

Shit! He was touching me! I was supposed to be writhing in agony. I did the only thing that I could think to do: I widened my eyes, mirroring the rest of them, pretending to be just as shocked.

“Samuel…” Aunt Vivian’s mouth hung open. “What on earth are you doing?”

He jolted his hands away and stuttered.

“I, well see, I… She’s drained. I could tell that she’s been drained and I thought maybe if she relaxed a little, she would recover quicker.”

What did he mean I was drained?

“Eliza, who drained you?”

I shrugged. “I don’t even know what that means.”

“When you come into contact with someone for a long period of time, eventually your power burns itself out. Like a light bulb,” she explained.

My heart sank. “Wait, does that mean that my powers are gone now?”

“Only temporarily. They will return once you’ve rested some. But what happened?”

“I… I don’t know.” I couldn’t even attempt to come up with a fake explanation.

“I’ll bet it was Pascal,” Marcus offered.

“It could have been,” Vivian conceded. “What’s this?” She took hold of the djakout that dangled from my neck.

“I gave it to her,” Samuel spoke up. “I thought after her run-in with Pascal she would need some protection.”

“Were you wearing it last night?” Vivian asked me.

I knew I couldn’t say I was if she was going to believe Pascal was the reason I was drained, so I shook my head.

“No, I took it off so it wouldn’t tangle in my hair while I slept.”

She cursed in Creole. It looked as if she was accepting our story, and a collective wave of relief rolled throughout the room.

“Could Aunt Vivian and I speak alone?”

Samuel darted a protective stare in my direction, but I wasn’t going to let up. If I was going to tell her I was planning to stay and convince her it was a decision I had come to without divine intervention, I couldn’t be distracted by an audience. Especially when one of the spectators was Samuel.

It took a moment, but he finally relented and ushered the others from the room. Camille and Marcus needed to get to work anyway, and I knew Samuel wouldn’t be far if I needed him.

“Is something wrong, dear?” Aunt Vivian asked with the sweetest Southern Belle charm she could muster.

“Not at all,” I assured her. “I just wanted to let you know I’ve made a decision. I’m going to stay. I think it’s what’s best for everybody.”

“Well, I happen to agree with you on that. But may I ask why you’ve had such a sudden change in perspective?” She narrowed her eyes on me and I refused to let it intimidate me.

“Camille and I had a really good talk the other day and she got me thinking. There really isn’t anything left for me in Florida. I have family here. My roots are here. Nobody out there is going to accept me for what I am.” Really, Samuel was the one to be credited with that, but I wanted to leave his name out of the conversation. “And I can help people here.”

“You could help these people far more than you know. But I don’t think you understand how involved the preparation is for the initiation. You won’t be allowed to just get your toe wet on the bottom floor the way everybody else does. You’ll be expected to jump right into the role of mambo, skipping two other steps of membership. Usually that process takes years.”

“I’m OK with that. When can we do it?”

“The best time to hold the ceremony is on Saint John’s Eve, especially if we’re going to summon Damballah. That’s in one week, so you just came in under the wire.”

Sighing heavy, she sank into her chair, as if the reality of how much there was to do weighed on her shoulders.

“What do you need me to do, Aunt Vivian?”

“You’re going to have to study. A lot. A lifetime’s worth of teaching in one week. Plus you’ll have to fast. You can’t have anything at all to eat until the ceremony and only water to drink.”

Suddenly the muffins in the center of the table looked ridiculously tempting. I hadn’t even noticed them until she said the word fast.

The studying didn’t bother me. I was an exceptionally fast learner. I managed to maintain a 4.0 GPA without any extra hours cramming. Anything a professor said in class stuck with me, and I didn’t expect this would be any different.

But not eating? That was going to be a challenge. I totally understood it. I was a full-blooded American girl who loved her trans fats and preservatives, but I would imagine the Spirit of Spirits wouldn’t be inclined to accept my audience with so many impurities floating around my body. Still, this was going to be hell.

“I understand.” I lowered my voice, hoping it didn’t sound as uncertain to her as it did to me.

“You and I are going to have to spend a lot of time working on your control,” she continued. “You’re going to need to learn to regenerate your energy level after a healing session, and I can think of no better opportunity than right now to do it, considering how weak you are.”

“That’s a great idea. I feel like crap.”

“I imagine you do.”

She went to a cabinet and pulled out a few candles, placed them around the table, and lit them.

“Place both of your hands on your stomach,” she instructed me. “One on top of the other. Lean back and relax. Close your eyes and repeat after me.”

“Sweet loas of my God, Bondye. With the power you have given me, I heal myself. To continue your bidding and to promote your will, I require renewal and rebirth. Bring your light into my hands and give me strength, be it your desire.”

My voice echoed hers after each line, and my hands became hotter and hotter, transferring the heat of healing from them into my torso and spreading through my entire body. My blood surged as my powers returned, stronger with each word I spoke, and I couldn’t help but wish I knew about this long ago. It would have saved me countless hours of pain.

“All right, go and fetch Samuel from the other room. We’ll need him to ready the hosts for the ceremony.”

I opened my eyes, expecting to feel groggy but was pleased to find I was completely refreshed as if I had gotten a full night’s rest. I was ready to tackle this fasting thing head on.

Knowing Samuel wouldn’t have gone far, I went into the living room to find him. I was not surprised that he was leaning against the couch, arms crossed and mean faced. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Come on.” I tugged at his shirt. “Aunt Vivian has a job for you.”

“I promised Filomèz I wouldn’t let her hinder you.” He gritted his teeth.

“She isn’t going to! She
wants
to help me. She wants to help all of you too. I think whatever idea you have about her is wrong.”

“Eliza, you don’t know what you’re—”

His ears actually appeared to perk up, and he darted into the kitchen, dragging me by the arm behind him. When we came into the doorway he unexpectedly halted, and I crashed into the back of him.

Peeking around his shoulder, I caught a glimpse of her. She didn’t even notice us standing there, but she was holding a cloth doll and she lowered her head to blow air into its nose.