The Devil in Canaan Parish (24 page)

Read The Devil in Canaan Parish Online

Authors: Jackie Shemwell

Tags: #Southern gothic mystery suspense thriller romance tragedy

BOOK: The Devil in Canaan Parish
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“There you go!” he crowed, “that’s it!
 
I’ll come and get you next week, then. My cousin has a truck.
 
We’ll come over here in the morning, after Miss Sally and Mr. Bram leave, and you’ll come with me, alright?”

I began to think that the plan might work.
 
“Go where, Gabe?” I asked. “And how will you get me out of here?
 
Miss Sally locks me in the room.”

“Locks you in the. . .” he started, then shook his head, “never mind that, Melee.
 
Just you never mind.
 
I fix enough broken doors to know how to jimmy one open. You just be ready next Sunday for me, you hear?”

I nodded, suddenly feeling hopeful.
 
Perhaps this would work, after all.

The days leading up to Palm Sunday dragged by slower than any week in the previous six months. I became more and more anxious as time wore on. When the day finally arrived I was nearly ready to burst. I worked hard to contain my excitement and waited until Sally finally got herself ready to go.

“I’ll be back this evening, alright?” she said. “Bram won’t be home, so I’ll leave the door unlocked and you can go to the kitchen if you need to. I made you some sandwiches and put them in the icebox for you, okay?”

“Yes, thank you,” I smiled.

“Be sure you eat, now, you hear?” she fussed.
 
I needed to remember to take those sandwiches with me.
 
Sally would be angry if she came home and thought that I had starved myself.

“Yes, I will,” I agreed.

After more fussing and admonishing to stay off my feet and rest, she finally left with Bram.
 
It was one of the few times that she had done so in months.
 
Sally associated with Bram as little as possible, and usually only for obligatory functions.
 
Palm Sunday was one of them. Sally had told me that her family held a large gathering every year at the Landry plantation.
 
Of course, they did so for every major holiday and celebration, and I wondered that they would not be doing exactly the same thing next week for Easter.

I did not have to wait too long for Gabriel to arrive.
 
It seemed only a few minutes after the rumble of Bram’s car disappeared down the road, I heard the loud banging of an ancient engine approaching. I ran out to the kitchen to wait at the back door. A hopelessly beat up old truck appeared around the corner. One of its fenders was missing, and the body was covered in rust, with most of the paint peeling off. I was horrified for a moment that it reminded me of my father’s old truck, but shook off the feelings of revulsion.
 
This was not my father coming back to get and drag me away.
 
This was Gabriel, come to rescue me.

The truck came to a stop behind the house and Gabriel bound out the passenger door, a huge grin plastered on his face. I left the house and made my way down the stairs, and he caught me up into a bear hug.
 
I worried for a moment that he would feel my belly.
 
I was sure that he had, but he did not seem to notice or mind it if he did.
 
I had worn an old dress that Peg had given Sally.
 
Not too fancy, but nice.
 
It was very large, and swallowed me up, and I hoped that people would think that I was just a poor girl who had no clothes and had to wear dreadful hand-me-downs.

“You ready to go have some fun?” asked Gabriel, doing a little dance from side to side.

“You know it!” I grinned in return.

The next instant, Gabriel was lifting me up off my feet.
 
I grabbed his neck and gasped in surprise.
 
He lifted me up over the side of the truck and put me into the back. There I saw a large quilt spread out.
 
Gabriel leaped in after me, and then gave me a sheepish grin.

“Sorry about this,” he explained.
 
“I know you don’t wanna be seen, so I expect you’ll need to lie down here in the back. There ain’t enough room for you in the cab to get down on the floor.”
 
I nodded in agreement.

“Hope you don’t mind it too much,” he added.
 
“I’ll stay back here with you, if that’s alright.”

“Sure, that’s alright.” I murmured.

Gabriel lay across the quilt and pulled me down next to him.
 
He put his arm around me and I leaned my head against his shoulder.
 
Then he pounded a fist against the back of the cab to let his cousin know we were ready to leave.

It was a giddy, bouncy ride from the Palmer’s house down to the Bottoms.
 
Gabe’s cousin took it as slow as he could, so not to jar us too much. I gazed straight up and saw blue sky, sometimes broken up by tree branches or a bird passing overhead.
 
When we drove through town, I heard the sound of the church bell ringing and knew that Sally and Bram would be going in for mass holding palm leaves, the priest leading them in the annual procession. Occasionally the truck would hit a hard bump or pothole and Gabriel would fly up into the air for a moment.
 
Each time he would ask me if I was alright and each time I would giggle in reply.

When we finally arrived at his house, it was getting late in the morning. The truck stopped and Gabriel sat up and checked around.

“Coast is clear,” he winked at me, and then pulled me up on my feet.

We were parked in front of a tiny wood framed house.
 
It was painted a bright robin’s egg blue and had white columns holding up a front porch.
 
Seated in a rocking chair was an old woman. She smiled up at us and waved.

“Grandma!” shouted Gabriel, bounding towards the woman.
 
He bent over and hugged her and then she grinned a toothless smile and patted his cheek.

“Grandma, there’s someone I’d like for you to meet,” he gestured toward me.
 
I walked to him, shyly, wondering what his grandmother would think of me.
 
She held out two wrinkled and gnarled hands toward me, and I placed my hands in hers.

“Grandma, this is Melee,” said Gabriel.

She peered at me through narrowed eyes. I could see the cataracts in them and knew that she must be nearly blind.

“Hello, child,” she whispered. “Lay your troubles at the door, Sugar, you safe enough here.” And she gave my hand a squeeze and then released me.
 
Gabriel grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door.
 
Izzy was standing there, hopping from one foot to the other.

“Miss Melee!” he shouted, overjoyed.
 
I smiled and gave him a hug.

“Izzy I ain’t seen you in so long, where you been?” I asked. He was about to answer when a woman’s voice called from the other room.

“ISRAEL JOHNSON!
 
You get back in this kitchen this instant!
 
I done told you I need you to take out this trash!”

“OK MOMMA!” Izzy hollered back. He rolled his eyes, and then gave a me a wink and ran off toward the back of the house.

Gabriel ushered me inside where I was greeted by heavenly smells:
 
baked ham, fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, collared greens, black-eyed peas and homemade biscuits.
 
I recognized each distinct smell.
 
It reminded me of Marraine’s house so many years ago.

“Momma she’s here, she’s here, she’s here!” I could hear Izzy shouting excitedly.

“Hush child, yes, I know, now get this trash on out of here!”

The next moment, Gabe’s mother emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.
 
Annie Johnson was a beautiful woman. Her black hair was pulled back in a bun, and wisps of it floated around her head like a halo. She was sweating a little, giving her dark skin a polished glow. She was petite and her features were small and delicate, but her arms were quite muscular and she seemed incredibly strong.
 
She held her arms out and took my hand in hers, staring directly into my eyes.

“Miss Melee, my son has told me so much about you.
 
It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

I blushed, unused to such genuine kindness.
 

“Thank you, ma’am,” I replied, “thank you for having me.”

“I hope that you’re hungry!” she smiled.
 

Gabriel slipped his arm around me and led me to the kitchen. The room was hot and the windows were steamy from all of the cooking that Annie must have been doing since early in the morning.
 
I realized that Gabe’s family was going out of their way for me.
 
I was sure that they must have skipped church that morning, and I felt a pang of guilt when I realized that Annie, who worked so hard every day of the week, was spending her only day off cooking for me. We kept going through the back door, where a picnic table was waiting, a blue checked table cloth covering it. The dishes and silverware were already set. Gabriel led me to the table and helped me get seated.
 

“I’ll be right back!” he promised.

For the next few minutes, he, Izzy and Annie scurried back and forth between the kitchen and the picnic table, bringing food bowls, bread baskets, lemonade and iced tea. When all was nearly ready, Gabe went around the front of the house and returned a few minutes later, pushing his grandmother in a rickety old wheel chair.

When everyone was seated, Annie took Gabe and Izzy’s hands, seated one on either side of her and bowed her head. Gabe grabbed my hand, and his grandmother took the other.
 
We all bowed our heads and waited for Annie.

“Dear God, we thank you today for family and for the joy that family brings.”

“Yes, Lord,” whispered Gabe’s grandma.

“God, we just lift up those seated here at this table, that you might wrap your loving arms around them, Lord.”

“Praise you Jesus!” the old woman mumbled.

“And God, I want to thank you for our guest, Miss Melee, bless her, dear Lord, protect her and bring her not into temptation but deliver her from evil.”

“Praise God!” Gabe’s grandmother was getting louder.

“And God we just ask all these things in your son’s precious name,
 
Amen.”

All around the table echoed Annie’s “amen” and then Izzy’s hand darted toward the basket of biscuits.
 
Without looking up, Annie reached over and slapped it.

“Mind your manners, boy!” she snapped.
 
“We are going to serve our guests, first.”

Izzy slunk back in his chair, ducking his head in disappointment.

Immediately, Annie’s frown was transformed into a dazzling smile, and she passed me bowl after bowl of delicious food.
 
It wasn’t long before we were all talking and laughing. Izzy’s antics and Gabriel’s wild stories had their mother in fits from time to time. As she wiped her eyes with a corner of her napkin, I could tell that she was brimming with pride. Her boys were her life, and they fulfilled her.
 
She lived for these Sundays and time with her family, and I felt blessed to be a witness to so much love and joy.

After the meal, I helped Gabe and Izzy do the dishes, against Annie’s protests.
 
She finally agreed to go and rest on the front porch swing with her mother and left the three of us alone in the kitchen. Gabe and Izzy teased and wrestled with each other.
 
I washed, Izzy dried, and Gabe put the dishes away. I felt young again.
 
Younger than I had in years.
 
I wished that I could stay here always.
 
I felt so warm and protected every time I was with Gabriel, and it was never suffocating. I knew that he loved me only for myself and not for what I could do for him.

When the afternoon finally drew to a close I was saddened to hear the approaching roar of Gabe’s cousin in the old truck.
 
He honked the horn a couple of times to let us know he was out front waiting.
 
I gave Izzy a long hug goodbye and another to Gabe’s grandmother.
 
Finally I embraced Annie.

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Annie,” I said.

She held me close to her and kissed my head.

“You are just so welcome!” she said, “Any time.” I could see tears welling up in her eyes and suddenly I felt the urge to cry too.

“The Lord is with thee,” she whispered in my ear. I pulled away and stared at her, surprised to see the knowing glint in her eyes. The next moment, Gabe had circled his arm around me, and was pulling me toward the door.

All the way back to the Palmers’ house I thought about what Annie had said.
 
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against Gabriel, knowing that it would be a long time before I could be with him again. He leaned over and kissed my cheek softly.
 

It had been one of the best days of my life.

Chapter Seventeen

It was Good Friday, and I was alone, cleaning up the store.
 
Bordelon had closed up at three o’clock as he did every year. After doing the receipts in his office, he locked the door and came out to put on his coat and hat.
 
It was raining outside, a heavy April shower that soaked the streets and ran in tiny rivers down the windows.

“I’m gonna head out now,” he said.
 
“I gotta go home and change and then go pick up Sally.”

Sally’s parents were driving her to church that evening. It would be a long service. The priest would lead the faithful through the Stations of the Cross. I dreaded it and wished that I could somehow excuse myself, but I knew that I would be expected to join them.

“Sounds good, sir,” I answered.
 
“I’ll see you at the church in a little while.”

Bordelon grunted in reply.
 
“Lock up and turn out the lights when you leave,” he said over his shoulder.

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