Oppressed (25 page)

He grinned. “Fencing practice and
café,” he said. He fell in step with me, and he extended his arm
for me to hold.

My stomach was a knot of nerves and I
silently cursed myself for indulging in so much gumbo just minutes
before. I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate for so-called ruined
women to feel this way. Looks of disapproval and silent disgust
followed us as we meandered the streets. “I see. As much as I’d
love to get some café I’m off to St. Louis Cathedral to feed the
Saints and Spirits. You’re free to watch me while I hold three
scorching-hot Guinea peppers in my mouth for a few hours,” I
said.

“
How can I refuse an offer
like that? Who are we saving today?”

“
The Delmonts.”

“
The Delmonts? Why do they need
help? They own half of the casinos in the city. And Madame Delmont
never stepped foot in the Vieux Carré.”

“
I know, but you should have
seen Madame Delmont’s face when she walked into my parlor and
begged me to save her son’s life. She offered to give me her
diamond wedding ring, while Monsieur Delmont offered to buy me a
new cottage on Rue St. Anne. Imagine! They’re desperate and they
have no one else to turn to. I can’t let their son die. They’ll
hang him if he’s convicted. He’s not much older than us. He has his
whole life ahead of him. And he’s their only child.”

“
Do you think he did it?”
Lucus asked.

I shook my head. “No. I know he didn’t
kill that man on purpose. He was only defending himself. There are
always two sides to every story.”

He gave me a wide smile. “I know,” he
said. “So we’re off to save the Delmont boy!”

“
Yes! Little by little
we’re starting a revolution!” I dramatically threw my free hand in
the air.

“
A revolution?” he asked, as he
glanced at me with one eyebrow raised.

“
Yes. There are a hundred
million ways to start a revolution. You can weld a machete and pour
gasoline over people or you can attack their hearts and minds,” I
said, channeling Bade and Erzulie. “I’m determined to attack the
hearts and minds of the fine people of New Orleans with spirit.
It’ll be like an infectious disease. I’m going to help whoever I
can! Rich, poor, blue and green. It doesn’t matter. Soon the spirit
will be unstoppable and maybe in a few million years we’ll finally
learn how to appreciate our differences.”

Lucus laughed. “It’s going to take a
few million years? Are we really that hopeless?”

“
Yes,” I said seriously as
I caught a glimpse of the slave coffle that passed us. “With the
way things are going it will take a few million years if we’re very
very lucky and work very hard. It might take a little longer but I
have faith that people will finally wake up one day. But in the
meantime it’s the Delmont boy!”

He smiled widely. “I guess we have to
start somewhere, don’t we?”

I nodded. “We
do.
”

We stepped inside of an empty St. Louis
Cathedral and I felt a sense of wonder wash over me as it always
did when I was inside the beautiful church. With its stained-glass
windows, lavish altars that were always full of fresh flowers and
blazing candles, extravagant murals that covered the ceiling and
walls, it was the very heart of the city. Almost everyone in New
Orleans was baptized here, including slaves, free people, and
countless Queens.

“
Are you sure you want to
do this?” I asked.

Lucus nodded and gave me a large grin.
“I want to help. I want to be a part of your
revolution.”

I smiled and wanted to
say
you
already are
,
but I wasn’t that fearless yet. We kneeled on a pew. I took out the
peppers from the bag. “When you hold the peppers in your mouth you
have to concentrate on the Delmonts. Focus on asking the Spirits
and Saints for their blessings.”

“
I think I can manage
that.”

I smiled and shyly handed him three
colorful peppers. Together, hand in hand, we fed the Spirits and
Saints. Tears of pain filled our eyes, our faces reddened and sweat
dripped down our foreheads, but we didn’t give up. I focused on how
pale, desperate and fragile Madame Delmont had been when she had
walked into my room with a full veil obscuring her delicate face,
and how the usually stern and intimidating Monsieur Delmont had
burst out in tears at the very thought of losing his boy. They were
one of New Orleans’ wealthiest couples, but they knew that no
amount of riches would ever replace the life of their
boy.

After a couple of hours of strict
focus and dedication we finally stopped and I turned to face a very
red Lucus.

“
That wasn’t so bad, was it? Did
you feel them? Did you feel the Saints and Spirits?” I asked,
hoping that he wouldn’t run out of the Cathedral shouting, ‘You
heathen! What kind of savage non-sense is this?’ “I know they’re
going to help the Delmonts, I can feel it. They have
to.”

Lucus was eerily silent as he stared at me
in quiet wonder. His focus shifted and for a few seconds he stared
at the colorful flowers that rested on the altar in front of us.
Particles of dust caught the light that streamed in through the
stained-glass window behind him. They swirled around his head,
giving the illusion that there was a halo around his dark hair. I
searched his face and tried to read his mind.

He was still for a few minutes and then
suddenly and without warning I felt his arms wrap around me,
crushing me against his chest as if he were trying desperately not
to let me slip away. I could feel his heart beat against mine. I
devoured the smell of the hot peppers on his breath mixed with the
slightly sticky scent of his skin. His lips covered my forehead in
soft but fiery kisses before making their way down to my eyelids
and cheeks. They lingered on my skin and I vowed that I would never
ever take another bath again or wash my face.

Abruptly I pulled away before he had a
chance to kiss my lips. “I can’t,” I said pleadingly.

“
Why not?” he asked. His
voice was barely above a whisper and there was a slight frown on
his lips. His eyes were eager as they searched my face for an
explanation.

I decided to just come out and say exactly
how I felt because I had already spent so much of my life pushing
my real feelings aside. “I don’t want to be a placée. I don’t want
to be second to anyone. I don’t want to wait at home crying,
wondering why you’re not there and who you love more. I don’t want
to sit in the second tier at the opera and look down on you and
your real family. Or pass you on the street and pretend I don’t
know you when you’re with your real wife. I don’t want to carry
children you’ll never really know, or have them be born into this
vicious cycle, not knowing they have brothers or
sisters.

“
And if you kiss me right now
that’s what’s going to happen. You’ll marry one of the hyena twins
and buy me a house on Rue de Rampart. We’ll rationalize that it’s
different but it won’t be because... It wouldn’t be.” To my shock
and frustration I started to cry. I hadn't cried since Maman had
kicked me out or I had found out that Emilie was my sister. Yet
here I was, crying. “You’ll see me as a fashion statement. Nothing
more.” Flashbacks of Edmond hit me and the tears kept on flowing.
“Then there’s your cousin and family and…” The list went on and on.
“But you see, I don’t want to be seen as a fashion statement. A
disposable novelty that you’ll trade.”

I thought of all Antoine had taught me
and I wanted to make him proud.

“
I thought we were
starting a revolution,” he said simply.

I looked away and counted the thorns
that rested on the head of the Christ statue.

“
Look at me, Cecile,” he
said softly but with a distinct ring of determination. “Why can’t
you look at me?”

I was unresponsive as I obsessively
counted the thorns. One. Two. Three. Four.

“
You’re a hypocrite.” His
voice was calm and devoid of anger or emotion.

I turned to look at him. The fire in
his eyes unnerved me and my lips trembled violently as I tried to
make sense of his accusation. “Hypocrite?”

“
Yes. You speak of revolution
and filling the hearts and minds of people with spirit, yet you
shut yourself off completely. You preach equality and the
abolishment of divisions, yet you continue to create boundaries in
your own life. These lies and contradictions make you a hypocrite.”
He crossed his arms and glared at me, openly challenging me.
“Didn’t you say that true revolution begins with the heart and
mind? Well, maybe you should start with your own heart and
mind.”

His arrogance and supposed truths
infuriated me. “I’m not a hypocrite!” My voice came out in a low,
acidic stream. “You have no idea what I’ve been through! How dare
you judge me? It’s easy for you to sit there and make dramatic
professions and come to conclusions. Do you have any idea…? ” The
words got caught in my throat and memories of Edmond came flooding
back. The touches, the scoffs, and constant humiliation that I
endured over and over again. I clenched my fists and my body
trembled but I refused to shed another tear. “I don’t need another
oppressor disguised as a savior.”

He lowered his lashes and took a small
breath. After a few seconds he looked up and his determined eyes
met mine while a small smile danced on his lips. “I’m not trying to
oppress you. I’m trying to love you.” He said the words slowly but
with fierce passion and conviction. “I want to love you, that’s
all.”

I closed my eyes and tried to shut out
his words. “Why would you want to love a heathen, a savage someone
supposedly ruined?”

“
The same reason you love
someone who drinks too much, wastes his time in questionable
gambling dens, and has no clear plans or ambitions aside from
painting painfully horrible portraits. Yes, I know you love me even
though you’re too afraid to say it.”

I laughed and shook my head. “You’re
so arrogant.”

“
If speaking from the heart is
arrogant, then yes, I am arrogant. If saying what I know is the
truth and understanding that life is a beautiful mystery is mad,
then yes, I am a madman. Love is the only truth, which makes what I
feel for you the only truth I know and the only truth I will ever
know.
Je
t'aime
.”
There was an all-consuming conviction in his voice which both
terrified and shook the very marrow within my bones. He was
perfectly insane and perfectly perfect.

A suppressed laugh escaped from
me as, unwillingly, tears continued to roll down my cheeks. As much
as I wanted to sneer and tell him he was sadly mistaken I knew that
he was right. There was no way to explain or rationalize
les
mysteries
. I
had been with Edmond for months and in those months I hadn’t felt a
fraction of the happiness, giddiness, wonder and elation I had felt
with Lucus.

“
Where will it end? It can’t end
well- it won’t end well.”

“
It’ll end where and how
we want it to… You’ll always come first. Always. There will never
be anyone else.”

“
How can you have so much
faith in something you can’t prove?”

“
How can you have so much
faith in spirits most people can’t see?”

“
Because I can feel
them.”

“
And I can feel this. What
makes your truth anymore valid than mine?”

I shrugged and lowered my lids. “It
may take a million years,” I whispered.

“
If Dinclusin
can wait for
Chalotte and take her constant demands and stubbornness, I can do
the same for you.”

“
Demands
?” I pretended to be offended. “You
think I’m demanding and stubborn?”

He grinned as he wiped away my tear
with the tips of his finger.

“
Pralines,” I whispered.
“Maybe we’ll be together when we’re both pralines.”

“
Pralines,” he murmured as
he drew closer.

I felt his powerful arms around me once
again. The heat of his fingers as they gently stroked my neck was
dizzying and I lost myself in the moment completely and utterly.
His lips pressed against mine evaporating all of my reason and
logic. Full of the fiery energy of Guinea peppers, under the ever
watchful eye of the Saints and Spirits, I experienced my very first
real kiss. Sweet exhilaration filled me from head to toe and I
prayed that the moment would stretch on for eternity.

“
Ahem.” A very angry and
offended Pere Antonio stood over us and shook his head from side to
side while making a rather interesting clicking noise with his
tongue. “Blasphemy in the house of
Dieu!”

We quickly tore ourselves apart and stood
up. I smiled and reached for Lucus’s hand. “Forgive us Pere, for we
have sinned!”

We burst out laughing. Hand in hand Lucus
and I ran out of the Cathedral, leaving a very scandalized Pere
Antonio staring after us in disapproval and shame.

Chapter
Twenty-Six

Bedtime Blues