The Rosaries (Crossroads Series) (15 page)

Paul chuckled again. “Yeah, you did look kind of vulnerable when I found you in the woods that time.”

That fateful night, Paul had saved Melody at the eleventh hour – after going back to Louisiana with the Book, she had nearly fallen victim to Maurice
Abudah
, a man living in the
swamp who felt he had ownership of the sacred text. The Book was initially stolen from his mother by Melody’s great-grandmother, many years before, and he believed that the only way to avenge his mother was to take the book back and kill Melody. What transpired later was that Maurice’s granddaughter, Alex, was the one who had orchestrated the whole thing, wearing Maurice’s mother’s wedding dress to make him think she was the spirit of the deceased woman, and use his madness to claim the book as her own. In the end, Alex accidentally shot her brother, fled into the night, and Melody survived. However, the tome Melody had promised to keep safe disappeared in the shuffle and washed away with the heavy rains that ravaged the bayou that night. It was when Melody left the bayou to return home, disappointed and distraught for having lost the book, that she met
Elegba
, the spirit that visited Paul at his shack in the Atchafalaya Basin. The very same one Paul called ‘
Legba
’ without an ‘E’ at the beginning of the name, due to his loyalty to the Haitian tradition which has a big influence in that part of the bayou . She heard, later on, that Mario’s brother, Federico, found the book and fled with it, only to crash his car shortly after. By the time authorities arrived, both Federico and the book were gone, so nothing was ever confirmed.

“I thought the same thing, Melody. I’m getting too old for chasing ghouls and crazy men and women. Mostly, I don’t want you to get in any kind of danger…we might not be as lucky next time.”

Melody felt a surge of affection for the old man on the phone. All considered, she was happy that
Grandmama
had steered her toward the bayou. If her grandmother’s dying wish of having her ashes brought back to her native bayou hadn’t taken place, Melody would have never met Paul or his daughter Olivia. “I’m a big girl too, Paul. You don’t have to worry about me. In fact, let’s talk about you…Olivia told me you’ve been dealing with some health issues.”

“Nah…nothing to worry about, Child. Doc said my cholesterol is high, and my blood pressure acts up once in a while. He wanted to put me on this crazy diet that would never work – could you see me giving up fried chicken, or bread pudding, or crawfish cakes? That’s nonsense, that is, for sure.”

“Paul, I think you should listen to your doctor. A good diet will only give you extra energy, which you will need to travel across half the world to see your little girl say I do.”

“I’ll be alright, Melody. There
ain’t
nothin
’ a good shot of rum won’t fix.”

Even if she was worried, Melody couldn’t help but smile at Paul’s stubbornness; in so many ways he reminded her of her beloved
Grandmama
Giselle. Melody had a lot of trust in Olivia, however, and she felt comfortable knowing two things: Olivia would make sure Paul remained on the right track, and Paul would do anything to please his daughter. “Well, I’d better be going, Paul. I have a lot of chores I still need to attend to.”

“Go on, child. Be good and tell Mario that I’m looking forward to kicking his butt at Chess.”

Melody laughed. “I will tell him, Paul, but he’s been practicing with a guy from work, so he might be more of a challenge than you think.”

Melody could picture Paul smiling affectionately.

“I hope so for him; that way his pride won’t be hurt too badly. Bye Honey, enjoy the rest of your day.”

“
Bye
Paul. I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

When she hung up the phone, Melody felt a fleeting twinge of pain shoot through her heart. She was more worried about Paul than she allowed herself to think. How many good years did he have left? She contemplated going down to
Louisiana
and spend a little quality time with him when she got back from
London
. Mario was always at work anyway, so she wouldn’t feel too bad at the thought of leaving him to fend for himself for a few days. There was a low level of anxiety simmering below the surface of her being, and Melody didn’t know if it was worry over Paul’s health, or if it was something more. She wondered why she was being asked to bring the rosary to London;
Grandmama
asked her to safeguard both items she entrusted to her, and Melody lost the book – was the same fate awaiting the rosary? She mentally prepared for a new battle ahead.

After all the guests finally left, Angela and Philip went into the family room to have a drink. It was a hard day, and they had been successful in keeping a united front for the sake of appearances. Now, alone at last, tension was free to surface, and it took little time to bring the atmosphere in the room to a sub-zero temperature. Angela Sanders sat on one of the Queen Anne chairs at the far end of the room; her face was tight as a cord, and she looked as a tigress ready to
pounce. Phillip Sanders sat as far as he possibly could, in the opposite side of the spacious living room; he appeared shrunk and pitiful, and he swallowed often, as if to stop himself from shedding tears of guilt.

Angela stood up abruptly and walked up to the bar to fill her glass with more Scotch on the rocks, breathing deeply. “That tramp! I can’t believe she would do that to me, her sister…and all along she played the part of the poor, sacrificial little maiden. What nerve!”

Phillip swallowed again. “She wasn’t a tramp, Angie, you know that. It was a moment of weakness for both of us. We were both at wits end, and sought each other for a moment of comfort. That’s all it ever was, I swear.”

But his tone wasn’t convincing enough – Angela jumped at the chance to slaughter him. “Oh, so you swear, do you? You also swore that you would be faithful to me, for better and for worse, and what happened to that promise? You forfeited it for a moment of filth with a pathetic whore!”

Phillip stood up, and his half attempt at defending himself came through as an admission of guilt. “That’s enough, Angie! I understand you are upset, but you are taking things out of context. Catherine and I did not have an affair, and she was not a whore. She was your sister, for God’s sake, and she died a few days ago. Can’t you even respect the dead? Maybe if you weren’t so cold and insensitive, so selfish and judgmental, people would actually think twice before they behave certain ways around you.”

“Oh my God! Are you implying that it is
my
fault
you
strayed? How dare you? I want you out of here, right now. This is the same house where you and my sister slept together, where you screwed her while I thought you were dealing with a difficult case. Get out and don’t come back. I don’t need you in my life!”

Phillip dropped his glass on the table so hard that he thought it would shatter in a million pieces, but it merely clung when the two surfaces collided. He strode out the door, almost knocking Natalie down as she came in. She looked at her father’s drawn face, then at her mother’s accusing eyes, and debated with herself whether she should even ask what was happening – she was sure it had something to do with the letter her mother had found in her purse, when she accidentally left it inside the church. There was little, if anything, she could do to help her parents – they had been beyond help for a long time, and had embodied the concept of “dysfunctional family” since Natalie was a young child. She didn’t want any part of their
drama, and was somewhat saddened by the fact that she felt no affection, nor compassion, for the two people who raised her. To Natalie, they were no different than perfect strangers.

She did nothing to stop her father, and it only took one glance in the direction of her mother to decide it was best to stay away. She turned on her heels and marched up the staircase, heading toward Aunt Catherine’s room. When she was there a few days before, she was so overwhelmed with the discovery of Catherine’s artistic skills that she didn’t inspect to see if there were any other things of interest in her room. The upstairs were dark, and Natalie turned on the hallway light to make sure she didn’t trip anywhere, since she wasn’t too familiar with Aunt Catherine’s house. She passed by
Lakeisha’s
room, and heard soft chanting filtering through the closed door. It was charming and haunting enough for Natalie to stop and listen. She couldn’t understand the words, but whatever she was singing had a strange feel to it, and Natalie felt oddly relaxed and liberated by it. Suddenly, she felt compelled to knock on
Lakeisha’s
door. She heard the chanting come to a stop, and then an assortment of small sounds as
Lakeisha
came to open. When the door opened,
Lakeisha
stood in the doorway, blocking Natalie’s view of the room.

“Miss Sanders…what can I do for you?”

Natalie took in the image of the woman standing in front of her –
Lakeisha
was wearing a loose white gown, not a nightgown per se, but rather an attire that called to mind African garb; her head was wrapped into a white scarf, and she wore a cross pendant around her neck. Her face was void of any traces of make-up, and Natalie noticed all the rings
Lakeisha
normally wore had been removed from her fingers. When
Lakeisha
shifted slightly on her feet, Natalie saw the flickering of a candle flame. “Nothing in particular,
Lakeisha
. I was going to Aunt Catherine’s room, and couldn’t help hearing you sing; it was absolutely beautiful.”

Lakeisha
smiled gently. “Thank you, Miss Sanders. I’ve already started packing some of Miss
Bouvier’s
things, to make it easier for you and your mother.”

“Thank you so much for doing that,
Lakeisha
; Aunt Catherine told me just the other day how efficient you are – I see that she was right. What will you do now that Aunt Catherine is gone?”

“I’m not sure, Miss Sanders. I suppose my job here is done, and I assume I will be discharged soon.”

“
Lakeisha
, can I talk to you about Aunt Catherine for a moment?”

“Of course, Miss Natalie. If you can give me a moment I will get dressed and come out to talk to you.”

Natalie’s curiosity was running in high gear, and she wondered what
Lakeisha
was doing in her room. In the past few years she had dabbed in alternative paths of spirituality herself, and was always eager to learn about others. “May I just come in a moment,
Lakeisha
? I see you are burning a candle. I do that myself often, when I pray.”

Lakeisha
stood on the door for a moment, her mind working fast to decide whether she should allow Natalie into her private world; she relented and stepped away from the door to allow Natalie into her room.

Natalie was wrong – there wasn’t a candle burning, but eight of them, arranged on the table to resemble a Christian cross. The room was pristine clean, and Natalie could detect a slight scent in the air, but couldn’t figure out what it was. A white cloth was laid out on the floor in front of the table, and another one was under the candles. Beside the candles she saw a shallow dish of water and some white Lilies. There was also a plate with something in it that looked like food, although Natalie couldn’t understand what kind of food it was. The most interesting piece of
Lakeisha’s
room was, however, a large white snake coiled around a faux tree inside a glass case.

“Oh my God,
Lakeisha
! I didn’t know you have a snake in here. What kind is it?”

“It’s an albino King snake, Miss Natalie. Please don’t be afraid, it’s not aggressive.”

Natalie couldn’t take her eyes off the magnificent animal inside the large case. “I’m not afraid at all. I find snakes to be charming and intriguing. Does my mother know you have it in here? She is terrified of snakes.”

“No, Miss Natalie, I can’t say that I’ve ever volunteered the information of its residency here. I figured nobody really needed to know, since it only leaves its case when I’m in the room.”

Natalie was mesmerized by the beauty of the snake. She had seen, and held, snakes of different types before, but she had never seen an albino at such close distance.

Lakeisha
sat quietly, studying Natalie as she gushed over the snake. Suddenly Natalie turned around, and looked in the direction of the altar.

“That’s a beautiful set-up,
Lakeisha
. What is it for?”

“I’m just praying, Miss Natalie. I normally do this on Sundays, but I needed guidance tonight.”

“Whatever you’re doing must be very peaceful,
Lakeisha
. It feels amazing in here. I’ve only ever been into another place that felt this good, before. It was the home of a lady I went to see to get a Tarot reading. Her house felt so peaceful, that I didn’t want to leave.”

Lakeisha
smiled. “
Obatala
is the most gentle and peaceful of all
Orishas
; maybe your friend had a little bit of His essence in her house.”