Bayou My Love: A Novel (16 page)

Read Bayou My Love: A Novel Online

Authors: Lauren Faulkenberry

“How
big?” I asked, but his partner, Mike, started the saw up again, drowning me
out. Randall waved and turned back to the hole. As I walked back to the porch,
I thought of the bill doubling, tripling. The dog grunted from under the
hammock, her paws over her ears.

It
seemed like every time I fixed something in the house, something bigger fell
apart. I hadn’t expected it to be easy, but I thought I’d been making steady
progress until all of this happened. During my first walk through, I hadn’t
seen structural damage or anything that indicated I’d be falling down this kind
of rabbit hole. But now this house felt like it was buckling under its own
weight and dragging me down with it. For the first time, I thought of calling
my father and asking him to send reinforcements, or telling him to take care of
it his way because I’d been too earnest. I hated the idea of confessing this to
him, though, because I knew he’d already thought it. He’d humored me, sending
me down to Bayou Sabine, and he was probably sitting in his office right now,
waiting for my phone call. Hell, he’d probably even made a bet with the rest of
the staff to see how long I could hold out down here.

That
thought alone made me want to tough it out and finish.

And
then there was Jack. If I gave up, he’d be out on his ass. I needed to hold up
my end of this arrangement just as much as he did. I wanted him to stay, and as
long as the house needed work, he would. I just needed to make myself a little
less crazy about him, because that was the fastest way to complicate things.

 

~~~~

 

Just
after four, the roofers started loading up the truck. Wayne came to the porch,
where I sat sanding banister rails.

“Miss
Parker, we’ll see you in the morning,” he said. “It won’t take too much extra
time to fix that mishap. We found a couple more weak spots, but we’ll have her
fixed in no time.”

“But
tomorrow’s Sunday.”

“We’ve
got another job starting Monday. I want to get you finished up before that one
starts.”

I
thanked him. Working on Sunday was completely unheard of.

“Mike
got that bedroom all cleaned up,” he said. “Most of it anyway.”

“I
really appreciate it,” I said, still a bit dumbstruck. These guys must have
owed Jack big time. I made a mental note to thank Jack properly. What exactly
that would entail, I wasn’t quite sure.

Mike,
who looked all of nineteen, approached, carrying something under his arm. “You
know this was back there?” he asked. He held out his tanned arms, holding what
appeared to be an alligator skull.

“Mike!”
Wayne scolded. “What have I told you about snooping in people’s yards?”

“You
going to tell me that was in the roof?” I said, and the older man laughed.

“No,
it was out back,” Mike said. “Half-buried. I saw a jawbone sticking out and got
a little curious—I sort of collect skulls and things.”

Wayne
shrugged as if to say,
Kids these days.

I
turned it over in my hands. Green and red dots were painted around the eye
sockets, faded but still visible. It looked like something had been carved in
the snout, but I couldn’t make out anything legible.

“You
want to keep it?” Mike asked. “You mind if I take it?”

“Mike,”
Wayne said. “What did I tell you about bumming things off people?”

“I
guess the dog dragged it up,” I said, eyeing the skull. “But let me hang on to
it for the time being.”

Mike’s
brow furrowed.

“Son,
you got a hundred of those things,” Wayne said. “Where would you put one more?”
He rolled his eyes and gave me a smile. “See you in the morning,” he said,
steering Mike away.

I
turned the skull over in my hands, staring at the empty sockets, the ragged
teeth. Bits of dirt clung to it, though it looked bright enough to have been
bleached. I shivered, thinking of the animal it had belonged to and the last
place I had seen one like this.

It
had been resting on a shelf in Duchess’ voodoo shop.

 

 

Chapter
12

I
was in Vergie’s room, sweeping bits of plaster and tar into piles when I heard
Jack open the front door. I’d worked myself into a frenzy by then, worrying
about that stupid skull and how it ended up in the yard. When Jack called my
name I was already coming down the stairs, stuffing it into a duffle bag.

“I
need a favor,” I said, rushing past him to the door.

“So
you want those tires on?” Holding a jack and a wrench by his sides, he looked
like the poster boy for Triple-A roadside assistance. “I figure it’s probably
my fault, so—”

I
slung the bag over my shoulder and said, “There’s no time.”

“Say
what?”

“I
need you to take me somewhere.” I pulled on his arm, but he didn’t budge.

“It
won’t take but a little while to put them on,” he said.

“We
have to go now.” I pried the wrench and the jack from his hands. “She won’t be
there much longer.”

He
raised an eyebrow. “Who won’t be there? What’s going on?”

“Come
on,” I said, hooking my arm in his. “I’ll explain on the way.”

“Darlin’,
what’s got into you?”

“Give
me your keys,” I commanded. If he moved any slower, I’d have to dig them out of
his pocket myself. An enjoyable task, I thought.

Focus
,
Enza.

“Look,”
he said, “if you’re thinking of going out looking for Remy, you can forget it.
I don’t know what you’re—”

“I’m
not going after Remy, you big lug nut. I have to see Duchess. Now will you
please just come on?”

“Who?”

I
tugged on his arm until he started walking.

He
muttered under his breath as I ran along ahead of him and climbed into the
truck.

He
slid into the driver’s side with what had to be a deliberate ease meant to
teach me some sort of lesson regarding patience. Nobody moved in a hurry down
here, especially when you asked them to.

Turning
the key slowly, he asked, “And where to, ma’am?” drawing out every syllable.

“Don’t
make me regret letting you drive,” I said. “The faster you hit the highway, the
faster I’ll explain.”

He
smirked as the gravel churned beneath us. “Oh, sure,” he said. “Now you want to
move fast.”

 

~~~~

 

He
shook his head each time he looked at me, but he drove down into the Quarter
anyway.

“You’re
cracked,” he said.

“There
was a skull lying in the yard. We need help.”

“One
of us does,” he said flatly.

When
we got out of the car, he slung the duffle bag over his shoulder, still
frowning. As I led him around the corner to the little yellow building, he
said, “You don’t actually think this is going to help, do you?”

“How
do you explain the sudden influx of crazy?” I hissed. “The house is falling
down around us, and it was fine when I got here. Now I’ve got gris-gris and
skulls and dolls and all kinds of weird shit turning up in the yard—and all
hell breaks loose! You, Remy, the house, Miranda. How the hell else do you
explain it?”

He
eyed the duffle bag. “This is nonsense. Skulls and dried flowers do not make a
house fall apart. Rot and hurricanes do.”

“You
have to admit, this is a strange conjunction of events.”

“Welcome
to the bayou, cher. That’s our whole history in a nutshell.”

I
shoved the door open, and the bell clanged overhead.

Jack
shook his head as I parted a beaded curtain and the strings flopped back in his
face. The beads tangled around his neck, and he swatted them like gnats.

“Good
grief.” He scanned the rows of potions and the baskets full of dolls, then
picked up a chicken foot and waved it at me as he spoke. “You seem like such a
rational gal, and then you drag me to a place like this. Talk about a strange
conjunction.”

“Shhh…
Have some respect.”

He
paused, running his finger along an alligator skin that was hanging by a row of
shelves. “It’s your money, darlin’.”

I
went to the back of the shop, carrying the alligator skull in the crook of my
arm.

“We’re
about to close,” Duchess said, her voice trailing out from the back room. “Come
back in the morning.”

“It’s
me again,” I said, peering in the back. “It’s kind of an emergency.”

Duchess
looked up from her work table, staring at me over the rim of her glasses. “Oh,
Lord. Thought that gris-gris would’ve lasted longer than this.”

“I
might need something stronger,” I said, laying the skull on the table.

There
was a clatter in the front room, and I winced, following Duchess’ gaze as she
leaned past the doorframe to peer into the store. She frowned and turned back
to me.

“Sorry,”
Jack said, catching a bottle just as it wobbled on the shelf. He shoved his
hands in his pockets and turned away.

Duchess
raised an eyebrow and said, “So this is the fella, then?”

I
nodded.

“Mmm-hmm.”
Duchess looked back at the skull. “This ain’t good. Ain’t good at all.” She
pushed her chair back and hoisted herself up. Her bright green dress billowed
as she sashayed into the front of the store. Squeezing past Jack, she paused,
looking him up and down. “Mmm-hmm,” she said, then continued to the front door.
She flipped the lock and turned the sign in the window to
Closed
. “This
is gonna take a while, sugar,” she said to Jack. “Try not to break anything.”

He
smiled. “Yes ma’am.”

She
raised one eyebrow, as if she’d seen the kind of damage that sort of smile
could do a hundred times over.

“Come
on, child,” she said to me. “Let’s have a look at that thing.”

Duchess
sat stone faced while I told her about the slashed tires, the way the house
seemed to be falling apart more every day. I felt like I was talking to a
shrink, spilling all the details about Jack’s fight with Remy, the rash of
fires, the sudden appearance of Miranda. I wasn’t holding back any more.

“Sorry,”
I said. “That’s probably way more than you wanted to know.”

“Now,
you wouldn’t go to a doctor and only tell them about one of your ten symptoms,
would you?” She leaned back in her chair and pushed her glasses up into her
hair. “You got to tell me everything. And believe me, it ain’t nothing I
haven’t heard already.”

“This
just turned up today,” I said, pointing to the skull. “At my house. Where Jack
lives too.”

Duchess
picked it up and handled it for a good long while. She was so quiet that she
made me nervous. Nothing good ever comes of people being that quiet. The only
other sound was Jack’s boot heels thumping along the floorboards in the other
room.

Finally,
Duchess sat the skull on the table between us. “Somebody’s got it in for a body
in that house, big time,” she said. “Maybe you. Maybe the fella.” She paused.
“Maybe both.”

I
glanced at the skull. “What do you think?”

She
shook her head. “I couldn’t say. But this is bad business right here. Somebody
wants one of y’all to suffer.”

“What
can we do?”

“Well,
lucky for you, this ain’t the first time I’ve seen somebody this riled up.”

There
was another crash out front, followed by a flurry of French curses. The big
orange cat bolted into the office, his ears flattened.

Duchess
raised two fingers to her temple and sighed. “How ’bout you go keep an eye on
that bull you brought in here and I’ll get something ready for you.”

I
thanked her and parted the beaded curtain.

“Mmm-hmm,”
Duchess said.

 

~~~~

 

It
was dusk when we left the shop.

“I
still can’t believe you bought all that,” Jack said, his eyes shifting from the
road to the bag in my lap. “But I suppose it’s good of you to support small
businesses.”

“We
need all the help we can get.”

I
unzipped the duffle bag and took out the skull. Duchess had painted a different
pattern on it with red and orange paint, then stuffed bundles of dried flowers
in the sockets. It reminded me of skulls decorated for the Mexican Day of the
Dead, how the blend of bright colors and flowers turned the ghoulish into something
beautiful. Duchess said this would reverse the original spell brought on by the
skull.

“Would
you put that thing away?” Jack said. “It’s giving me the creeps.”

I
held it out to him, wiggling the jaw.

He
shivered, turning back to the road. “Lord, have mercy.”

“You
heard what she said. We both have to believe in it to keep the house safe.”

“You
can believe enough for the both of us.”

“Jack,
you can’t deny there’s something weird going on around here.”

“Weird,
yes. Voodoo, no.”

“Would
it hurt to give this a try?”

He
downshifted as we entered the cypress grove, his knuckles white in the
moonlight. “I don’t like to see you taken advantage of.”

His
eyes met mine for a second before resting on the road. I shoved the skull into
the bag and leaned back against the seat.

“Don’t
worry,” he said. “I won’t let that bastard within a mile of you.”

“Who?
Remy? You think he did this?”

“He
likes to screw with people. And he’s got it in for me, but he won’t lay a
finger on you. I’ll see to that.”

All
this time, I’d been convinced it was just Miranda, lovesick and broken-hearted.
But to think of Remy skulking around the house, trying to sabotage Jack—that
was enough to ensure I never slept again. Miranda might want Jack back, but I
didn’t think she’d really do us any harm.

Remy
was a different story entirely. There was no denying the hatred I’d seen in his
eyes when he’d stared Jack down at the bar. The thought of him behind all of
this made my stomach twist in on itself. He’d use this as a distraction for
something else—I was sure of it. And it made me sick to think of what that
something else might be.

 

~~~~

 

Back
at Vergie’s, Jack wandered into the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine. “Have
a drink with me, jolie? Help chase those bad spirits away.”

“Sure.”
I pulled my boots off, wincing as pain shot through my ankle. It had swelled
again, aching after having walked on it so long.

He
handed me a glass and took a long swallow from his, nodding toward the cabinets
strewn across the floor. “I’ll take care of those tomorrow. They should be dry
by now.” He turned the radio on, and the room filled with a scratchy blues
song, the whine of washboards and steel guitars.

I
felt bad for fussing at him earlier. The truth was, the room looked better
already. “They look great,” I said. “I’m sorry about before. I was being a
jerk.”

He
shrugged, leaning against the counter. “Yeah, you kind of were. But it’s OK. I
should have asked.”

“It
was nice of you to do.”

“Just
part of our agreement, right, cher?” His voice had a sad lilt to it that I
didn’t quite understand. Deep down, he seemed as vulnerable as the rest of us.
He just wanted the same things we all did—to be needed and appreciated.

I
slid my hand over his shoulder as I passed him, limping a little as I walked to
the sofa.

He
came out of the kitchen with a bag of frozen peas and the bottle of wine.
Sitting next to me, he pulled my feet into his lap. “Here,” he said, laying the
peas on my ankle.

I
leaned back into the cushions, closing my eyes, letting the music wash over me
like a breeze. Finally, Jack said, “I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this.”

“What
do you mean?”

He
shook his head, pouring more wine into his glass. “You wouldn’t need gris-gris
and gator skulls if it wasn’t for me. You wouldn’t have all these messed up people
in your life.”

“It’s
all right. My life was a bit dull.”

“Something
tells me you didn’t want this particular kind of excitement.” He slid his hand
along my ankle, drawing tiny circles with his fingers. “My life’s a real mess,
darlin’. And I feel like I just pulled you into it blind. And now you’ve got
the scratches and bruises to prove it.”

“If
you hadn’t noticed, my life was already a mess. Now it just spans a couple of
extra states.”

He
frowned. “I should have left when you first got here.”

Hearing
him say that caused a twinge in my chest. That’s when I knew for sure: I needed
his help, but I
wanted
him to stay. And not just because of repairs.

There
was no way I’d let him walk out of this house now.

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