Napoleon's Gift (6 page)

I embraced Abel, then turned towards home with the portrait of my mother.

I placed the portrait next to Granny’s bed, then sighed as I looked at it.

I figured my father had been
correct in his statement, because the more I looked at that portrait, I realized I was a carbon copy of my mother. The only exceptions were, I was lighter skinned, and had hazel-green eyes, where hers were brown.

I sighed again, kissed
Granny’s cheek, then left the room.

***

As I walked through the tall oaks, I thought
of Benjamin.

What
would he look like now, after all these years?

My mind instantly went back to a hot summer
day; we had spent at the river together.

“I do declare
ye are the finest swimmer I have ever seen Ginny.” Benjamin said grinning, and I smiled as I rose out of the water, and his brow rose as we watched me.

He swallowed hard, then walked towards me.

“Has anyone ever told ye, that ye are absolutely beautiful?” He whispered, then kissed me.

“You are insanely
addling Benny.” I cried as I moved away from him, then cuffed him.

He frowned, then grinned.

“I have no notion what came over me, however, I do say that I am famished.” He laughed, and we both hurried to put our clothes on, then ran towards the house to see what Marié had made for luncheon.

I grinned to myself as I walked towards Ms. Claudette’s home. Even then, Benjamin had been a very handsome lad.

Although I was completely and haplessly in love with him, I never told him the truth, especially after the incident with Maribel Clavier and her cousin at Basil-leaf plantations, and the Dubios’ annual summer ball.

I frowned as I walked on, because what I felt for Benjamin after that day, waned, even if he swore it
was not his fault.

Ciel ici-bas (
heaven on earth
)

Plantation

I saw Claudette walking across the gardens, and ran to catch up with her. She turned, saw me, then smiled waving me towards her. If ever I had seen a beautiful woman, it was Claudette. Her mother was French Creole, and her father pure African. Mrs. Mongè was a beautiful woman herself. However, because she was French, she was a bit more liberal than the whites here were, and she had had a scandalous affair with a strapping slave named Marcus, and nine months later Claudette was born.

From what I heard, she high-tailed it back to
France, leaving Claudette here with Marcus. Claudette was so fair of skin, that most people around here forgot she was half-African, so she was a bit more privileged. Not to mention, Marcus Bonaparté was a free colored, and I believed related to Napoléon some how.

“Well hello chil, what brings you out today? I heard the dreadful new of Mari
é, and I am so sorry.” She said, as she kissed both of my cheeks, and I returned her kisses.

“I know, I
am at a loss. Abel thought you might have some kind of labor for me to do, to take my mind off the situation. I have no means of paying the doctor for his services, and the medicine Grand-mier will need.”

“I truly wish I did chil, but as of right now,
père
is in France with              

Monsieur
Boule. I know how frighten you must be.” She replied as she motioned to the swing on the veranda.

“I have nothing without
Granny Claudette.”

“And you
r father, did he not make arrangements for you to be taken care of in his last testament
amoureux
?” Claudette asked, and I looked up at her surprised.

Did everyone know he was my father?

Of course,
Granny finally told me, but I was twelve years old by the time she did.

“I have no notion, Mr. Charles came last week with a writ, which he assured us, gave him permission of the lands, and the people.”

“That foul
bâtard
, I shall never believe Tobias would give him the dirt under his fingernails, let alone his daughter!”

“
It is exactly what Granny said, but we have no means of proving it, not to mention it would be a colored’s word against a white. Moreover, now that Granny’s in coma, I am at a loss as to what to do. I cannot buy the things doctor Augustin needs, to take care of her.”

“Well, chil, I can take care of that.” Claudette said, and I shook my head.

“I’d rather you did not. There may come a time, when I just may have to ask for something more substantial, so I would see it then. I have no notions of what my living state will be now that Mr. Charles has taken over the properties. If it were his wish, since we are all free, he could actually have us removed.” I countered, and she nodded.

“Well, papa will be back soon, and as soon as he does, I’m sure he will find something for you to do.” She countered smiling, and I nodded again.

I kissed both her cheeks, said I would visit her at the end of the week, and she nodded as I waved good-bye.

What the devil would I do?

Granny needed that medicine.

When I reached
Granny’s, I immediately went to her room. I was surprised to see old Millie there.

“Well how’s
ma petit
today?” She asked as she kissed my cheek, and I returned it.

“
Pas très bien du tout
.” Not very well at all, I replied as I sat down on Granny’s bed, then leaned in to kiss her cheek. Her eyes fluttered for the briefest of seconds, then she was still.

“
Mon amour
, I have a little
argent
saved, surely you can…”

“Ms. Millie, I love you for that, but what happens next time? I have to find some kind of occupation
that will keep Granny and I secure. Equally, Granny told me you were saving that money to bring your daughter up from Mississippi; I could never take it from you.”

“And what shall you do chil, surely Miz Claudette has something?” She questioned, and I shook my head.

“Abel sent me there this morning, but she said
Monsieur
Marcus was in France at the moment, so as far as some kind of occupation, she would not know until he came back. I need to find work now Ms. Millie. I fear if I do not, Mr. Charles will realize I am no longer in the house, and come looking for me. At least if I have some kind of occupation, I can buy Granny’s medicine, and avoid Mr. Charles at the same time, until Mr. Waverly gets here; which God only knows is when. Can you stay with Granny?” I asked, she nodded, then frowned.

“And
où vas-tu
?” Where will you go, Millie asked, her frown deepening.

“
Pour le seul endroit que je connaisse où une fille de couleur peuvent trouver du travail Mme Millie
.” To the only place, I know of where a colored girl can find work Ms. Millie. I said, and she gasped.

“
Mais sûrement, il doit y avoir un autre moyen pour vous de trouver du travail              

Fillette?
” Surely, there must be another way for you to find work chil, Millie cried, and I sighed.

“I have no intentions of doing that Ms. Millie, maybe I can be a servant girl or something
. Anything that will allow me to buy Granny’s medicine. Now, I will return as soon as I can. Can you please stay with Granny until I return?” I asked as I gathered my shawl, kissed Ms. Millie on the cheek, then walked from the room as she nodded.

Vieux Carré

(
The French Quarter
)

Rue Bourbon Street…

As I walked towards
the Absinthe House, I felt a chill spring up my spine.

The Absinthe House had many a tale to follow it. The building endures the name of
Jean Lafitte
, because of the rumored meeting of the
Pirate Jean Lafitte
and
Andrew Jackson
, as they planned the victory of the battle of
New Orleans
on the second floor.

Built in 1806, this building was erected by Pedro Front and Francisco Juncadelia of Barcelona, to house their importing firm.  For the next forty years, trade continued in the bartering of food, tobacco and Spanish liquor. In 1815, the ground floor was converted into a saloon known as
“Aleix’s Coffee House”
and was run by the nephews of Senora Juncadelia. This coffee house was later rechristened
“The Absinthe Room”
and has been called that ever since.

For those not familiar with Absinthe, Granny says it is
liquor made from, among other things, wormwood.  It is said to have a bitter, licorice flavor and is greenish or chartreuse in color.  Originally brought to popularity in Europe, Absinthe found quite a following here in New Orleans, our own little Paris of the New World. 

Of course, when in New Orleans, the Absinthe House is a favorite spot for those who wished to imbibe the spirit. Absinthe was a favorite drink of many, many famous people
Granny said, particularly artists and writers who found inspiration in their Absinthe-induced stupor.  It is said that Edgar Allen Poe’s writings were essentially under the influence of nearly fatal mixtures of absinthe and brandy.  Many have been welcomed through its doors according to Granny,
Oscar Wilde, P.T. Barnum, Mark Twain, Jenny Lind,
and
General Robert E Lee
.  It was also said that Poe transformed himself into the
“enchanted spaces of the unreal.”

As it turns out, Absinthe
is indeed a dangerous substance, as the wormwood used for making it has narcotic properties.  The consumption of Absinthe is associated with hallucinations, delirium, madness and even death sometimes. I had never partaken, but I did know a few people who had. I daresay it is not something one should mess about with.

Granny warned me of this part of town; however, I saw no other choice. I passed Madame Soleil’s, paused, then frowned as I glared up at the establishment.

From what
Granny told me, the earliest recorded mention of prostitution as an occupation, appeared in Sumerian records from before 4000 BC, and describes a temple-bordello operated by Sumerian priests in the city of Uruk.

The
‘kakum’
or temple was dedicated to the goddess Ishtar and housed three grades of women. The first group performed only in the temple sex-rites, the second group had the run of the grounds, and catered to its visitors. The third and lowest class lived on the temple grounds, but was free to seek out callers in the streets.

In later years, similar
“temple”
or
“sacred”
bordellos and parallel classifications of females were known to have existed in Greece, Rome, India, China and Japan.

 
I sighed again.

Could I truly do that?

Could I truly make myself available in that manner?

I saw a pair of
very attractive colored girls glancing my way, then giggle.

 
“Elle ne serait jamais!”
She would never, the first one laughed, and the other nodded.

“Vous pouvez voir briller la pureté partir d’ici.”
You can see the shining purity from here, the other laughed and I frowned. I squared my shoulders, sent them both a look, then pressed the entry open.

As I walked in, I was in awe.

The place was drenched in red satin, deep burgundies, and the carpet under my feet was a striking red and yellow. A curved staircase led its way upstairs, and I gasped as I saw the half-clothed women lingering on the stairs, in a variety of outlandish outfits, with their gentleman callers following.

The beautiful chandelier, hung from the ceiling in all its glory, the shards of light reflecting off the women’s faces, who sat on the numerous settees,
eloquently sipping their wine, with the men practically throwing themselves at their feet.

The deep
wine-red curtains shrouded several rooms from view, but it was fairly obvious what the happenings in there were, from the laughter, not to mention the subtly slap of flesh.

I gasped as I saw
old Mr. Simmons from
Dieu Ciel
plantation sandwiched between two young women, who were feeding him grapes.

I noticed Madame Soleil in the far right corner, squared my shoulders again, then resigned this as my fate.

Madame Soleil was a stern looking women, one not to be trifled with. Conversely, in quite the contrast I also noticed a softness about her as well. Something so quite, her years of service to her craft had most likely deadened. Her long ebony tresses hung to her waist and her full bosom was accentuated by the tight fitting black and red bodice. However, it was her piercing green eyes, which drew attention, and right now, they were trained on me.