Oppressed (17 page)

After making sure the Edmond doll was
carefully hidden I quietly crept back into bed and watched him.
Slowly but surely his mouth started to twitch and his blue eyes
snapped open. He crawled out of bed and clutched his stomach and I
could taste his confusion and desperation as he tried to make sense
of what was happening to him. He thrashed wildly from one end of
the room to another until he finally fell onto his
knees.

Down on your knees big
m
an. Down on
your knees tyrant.

I watched with gratification as
his eyes started to water and the fine veins on his temples started
to swell and madly bulge. Hi
s face turned as bright as the cayenne peppers and
I could see strands of sweat drip off his forehead and glisten
under a thin stream of moonlight.

He struggled to understand what was
happening to him and looked at me pleadingly. He tried to say
something but the words came out as a low, desperate gargle. The
bitter aloes were doing their job nicely. I watched him silently
and without an ounce of compassion as an inky dark stream of blood
trickled from his nose and onto the waxy floor. When words finally
found him his voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper. “Cecile.
What has that heathen done to me?”

His words and sheer arrogance disgusted
me. He was still suspicious that Justine was conducting secret
Voodoo/Hoodoo rituals in the house and had made it his personal
vendetta to locate an altar just so he could sell her back into the
market. Did he know he was sleeping with the real heathen? For a
minute I wanted to tell him, just to see the expression on his
face.

He attempted to rise but with every
attempt he fell onto his knees and his pupils started to wildly
swell and dance from side to side. This went on for several minutes
before I grudgingly got out of bed and kneeled down beside
him.

“
Edmond, what’s wrong? Did
you have too much bread pudding with praline sauce?” My voice was a
fake mask of concern. I played the part perfectly and savored every
minute of it.

“
My insides are burning,”
he gasped. “The words the words I want to.” A dramatic gargle
escaped his throat and interrupted him in mid-sentence. “Blood.” He
suddenly became conscious of the fact that he was bleeding and
starting to foam at the mouth like a wild beast.

“
Poor sweet
Edmond.” I lovingly stroked his
cheek and put my arms around him. “You feel like a prisoner, don’t
you? It’s such a terrible feeling having all of that fire being
bundled up inside of you, isn’t it?”

“
It feels like peppers, hot
peppers.” His eyes turned red and started to rapidly squint. I
could see that he was struggling to retain his grip on reality as
he watched the shadows dance on the walls around us. “Shadows and
spirits,” he moaned as he pointed to the candle flame. “Ghost,
ghouls, sinners, saints, Mary and Jesus. I’ve sinned haven’t I? God
is punishing me. I’m going to Hell. The flames of Hell are all
around me. They’re consuming me. Oh Lord, sweet Cecile, death has
come for me!”

I bit my tongue to stifle my laughter and
once I was composed I let out a sweet dainty laugh. “Spirits, sins,
and punishment? Don’t be silly. You’re probably having a bad
reaction to something you ate or drank. Wait here. I’ll go grab
some water for you. I swear it’ll make it all better.” I got up
from the ground and gave him a sickly sweet smile before I turned
my back on him.

“
No, please don’t leave
me. Please,” he begged. His expression was completely innocent and
I felt remorse take a hold of me.

“
I’ll only be a minute. I
promise.”

As I made my way back to the pantry I
cursed myself for not having the guts to let him suffer more. My
original plan had been to leave him in agony all night but after
twenty minutes I had caved. I took the Edmond doll out of its
corner and burned it and let out a little sigh. It had been fun
while it lasted and so liberating. I filled glass with water and
did my best to keep the guilt off of my face.

When I got back to the bedroom Edmond was
still in the same miserable position I had left him in but his nose
had stopped bleeding and his pupils were no longer diluted. I
helped him up off the ground and brought the glass of water to his
lips. “Are you okay?” I whispered. I needed to know the answer more
for myself than out of concern for him. If I had killed him I
wouldn’t have been able to live with myself, which confused me
because I completely despised him.

He nodded. “Thank you, my sweet
Cecile, you’re my angel. I know that no harm could truly come to me
as long as you are mine.”

Those words sent a shiver down my
spine.

Chapter
Seventeen

Drama, T
ension, and Plenty of Angst at
the Théâtre d'Orléans

Théâtre
d'Orléans

New Orleans, 1853

The luxurious and
undeniably
magical Théâtre d'Orléans with its exquisitely detailed
Doric columns, spacious pit, large gallery, two-tiers of boxes, and
glittering chandeliers was only one of the reasons why New Orleans
had quickly become the opera capital of the country. I soaked in
the intoxicating blend of sweet and spicy Parisian perfume that
engulfed me, admired the splendidly dressed people that filled the
opera house, and let the spellbinding music of
Le Chalet
carry me away.

Displays of shameless wealth and luxury
were everywhere, such as the tiaras that rested on heads, the
elegantly-painted fans that were held in hands, the dazzling jewels
that hung around swan-like necks, and the silk and satin that
embraced smooth skin. For a moment I panicked and wondered if the
sleeveless wine-red silk gown with its velvet bodice and exquisite
lace, pearl, and tiny diamond trim was the proper choice for the
night’s performance. At affairs such as these it always seemed as
if everyone else was better dressed than me.

The opera was the one thing that all
wealthy Creoles, regardless of whether they were white or colored,
loved and flocked to in droves every autumn and winter. Perhaps it
was the dramatic nature of the performances that resonated so well
with the crowd because we found them to parallel our own
lives.

The theatre, like so many other aspects of
society within the city, was built on intricate layers of
contradictions. Both colored and white people were admitted into
the theatre but had to sit in separate tiers, which meant it was
perfectly fine for a white gentleman to sit with his real family in
the first tier while having his mistress and other children look
down on them from the second tier. Needless to say, the air was
always full of tension, drama, and plenty of angst- case in point,
Maman, who sat next to me looking radiant in a dark green satin
gown with a dangerously low décolleté. Despite her refined
appearance I could sense that she was nervous because she waved her
fan furiously and kept looking at the first tier in hopes of
catching a glimpse of Papa.

I was extra relieved to get out tonight
because the theatre was one of the few places that Edmond could not
be publicly seen with me, so I didn’t have to put up with his
company all night; but I did have to worry about his ever-watchful
eye.

Two weeks had passed since I
had cast the infamous
Keep a Big Man Down
spell and life had returned to normal.
Edmond and I continued our relationship as if nothing had happened
and I dreaded every moment of it. Every touch, every scoff, and
every condescending remark drove me closer to the edge of madness.
I was beginning to fear that if I didn’t do something soon I would
simply explode.

Each and every day this sense of
desperation and urgency was growing and growing, but I didn’t know
where to turn. I had seriously considered taking Tante Celeste up
on her offer but had talked myself out of it mostly because I
didn’t want Edmond’s ghost to haunt me for eternity.

Inside I was a ball of
tightly-
knit
nerves because I was dreading seeing Edmond walk in with his wife,
secretly dying to catch a glimpse of Lucus, and also praying that
Antoine would stop by our box and say hello because I missed him so
much. I kept casting glances at the Dupart box and hoped that
Antoine would somehow read my mind and come over, but so far he
seemed enthralled by the opera and was singing along like he always
did. He knew every word to every single opera played at theatre,
which was both remarkable and a little frightening.

“
What are you staring at?”
Maman glared at me in disapproval.

“
The crowd,” I lied and
quickly turned my attention to the tier below me. I was randomly
observing the crowd when my eyes rested on a pair of broad
shoulders and locks of glossy dark hair that I instantly
recognized. I panicked and hid behind my fan even though there was
a large dim gulf between us.

“
Cecile! Have you gone
mad!” Maman hissed and yanked the fan away from my face.

“
No.” I grabbed the fan back
from her and looked down below again. As if he had somehow sensed
my presence, Lucus caught me blatantly staring at him, which
prompted me to freeze. I wasn’t sure if I should smile or quickly
turn my head away and pretend that nothing had happened. Before I
could make up my mind he threw me a quick wink, a knowing grin and
then mouthed the words,
Good evening my Chalotte. Beautiful
spirit.

I had to take several short
breaths to keep my cool. I fanned myself shyly and gave him a small
smile. Then boldly and without thinking
I mouthed,
Good evening my
DincIusin
. I
reminded myself that this was nothing than… I wasn’t sure what it
was. Lies. It didn’t matter what it was, because the last thing I
wanted was a repeat of what had happened the last time I had
interacted with him.

I looked away when I heard Maman start to
cry. I knew that she had spotted Papa and his family and the tears
would go on all night. Surely enough, in the distance I saw his
auburn hair and his wife’s shiny blonde locks, along with the
angelic blond curls of their two little boys. My brothers. The
brothers I would never have a chance to meet or openly associate
with. No matter how many times I saw them, the sting of jealousy I
felt never seemed to vanish. I placed my arms around her and held
her. “It’s okay,” I whispered.

She fanned herself and gave me a tight,
unconvincing smile. I let my eyes wander over the sea of
spectators, hoping that Lucus would turn around again, when I felt
another pair of eyes on me. A horrible uneasiness crawled up from
the tips of my toes and grabbed me by the throat. I knew exactly
who it was. Her hazel eyes held look of hatred and disapproval that
made my blood run cold. Her rose-colored lips were turned down in a
melancholy frown, and I was mortified.

It was Edmond’s beautiful wife
and it was clear that she knew about me and did not approve of her
husband’s arrangement. I wanted to shout,
He’s all yours please keep
him
, but
that wouldn’t have been very appropriate. My heart ached for her
and I wished that somehow I could do say or do something to make
everything better. Edmond gave her a stern nudge and she quickly
turned around. The night progressed and I felt as if I were trapped
in a grotesque nightmare in which the only light was the few times
Lucus turned around and gave me one of his toe-curling
smiles.

The music died and the audience cheered as
the first act came to an end. Maman excused herself to say hello a
neighbor; as soon as she left my focus turned back to Antoine’s
box. Elation filled me as he got up out of his seat and his tall
thin frame made its way towards me.

“
Antoine!” I gave him a huge
bone-crushing hug not caring who saw and what they thought about
me. My Antoine was as handsome and as snobby as ever with his grey
Parisian waistcoat, crisp shirt and a green silk tie which was the
exact shade as his eyes.

“
Cecile.” He abruptly released
himself from my embrace and studied me carefully, with concern.
“How are you?”

I didn’t want to be fake with
him so I let all of the pent-up emotion out. “You were
right,
mon
ami
. You
were so right. It’s awful. I feel so awful. I despise him and I
despise myself even more for thinking that this was for the best.
This arrangement has turned into a horrific nightmare that I cannot
wake up from. ” I waved away my tears with my fan. I didn’t want
anyone asking questions or gossiping the next day.

Antoine’s eyes hardened and the
muscles in his jaw tensed as he looked down at the first tier. His
nostrils flared and I could feel his anger as his eyes rested on
the back of Edmond’s head. There was an agonizing silence and I had
to break it.

“
Antoine.” I shook him
lightly until he snapped out of his angst.

His eyes met mine and he took my hand into
his and gave it a tight squeeze. “Cecile, don’t let him do this to
you. As your friend I’m asking you, please. If I could I would
challenge him to a duel myself but you know that’s not possible.” I
could feel his frustration and knew exactly how he felt. “The
thought of you being hurt in any way infuriates me to no
end.”