The Rosaries (Crossroads Series) (35 page)

“We bury our dead differently here, Ms. Sanders; after a year and a day, the coffins, which are manufactured of simple wood and not sealed to assist in a quicker decomposition of the body, are opened and the bones are taken out and placed in a smaller box. The box is placed in the back of the tomb, to make room for the next member of the family.”

They came up to an open tomb, surrounded by a small group of nuns; a wooden coffin was already placed inside the tomb, and fresh flowers were arranged on the ground. Natalie swallowed hard. Her friend was in that coffin, and looking at it now brought home the reality that she would never see
Lakeisha
again.

Sister Justine opened a small book of prayers, and led the sisters into a chant that quickly flooded the empty pockets of silence. The sun shone bright, and the sticky hot air felt as an invisible embrace from all the souls that stood there as witnesses of this solemn moment. Natalie
stood on one side, her eyes fixed on the open mouth of the tomb. She silently said her good-byes, and prayed that her friend would watch over her in the days to come.

Melody returned to the farm alone. She was numb throughout Mario’s funeral, and barely heard Father
Rudino’s
words during the service. She still didn’t have the nerve to tell her mother about Natalie. Although she was sure Annie would be thrilled, she was too exhausted to deal with the drama that would surely ensue from the revelation.

She went inside the farmhouse and went directly upstairs to her bedroom, the same one that had belonged to
Grandmama
and Grandpapa Henry, and nearly collapsed on the large bed. She lay there until the light of the day switched shift with the first shadows of the evening. Suddenly, something caught her eye, a picture of
Grandmama
, happily smiling from a small portrait on the dresser, and in that same moment she felt her child flutter inside of her the first time. She protectively touched her abdomen, feeling an overwhelming sense of love toward the tiny being, and she was taken by a deep sense of peace. She had, so far, only shared the news of her pregnancy with Paul and Olivia, but she knew now that it was time to tell Annie.

“
Grandmama
” she thought out loud, “did you know all this was going to happen? Did you know that my life was going to turn upside down when you first sent me to Louisiana to bring your ashes? So much has happened these past two years that I don’t know what I need to do next. I have a baby I am responsible for now. Please give me a sign of what I must do next.”

She listened to the silence of the room, waiting to hear something, but nothing came. She sat up on the edge of the bed and her eyes focused on the small key charm she normally wore around her neck, which was now resting on the dresser beside
Grandmama’s
photo. She walked up to the dresser, picked it up, and held it tight in her hand. Strangely, it felt warm to the touch, although it had been sitting there since before the funeral when she took it off to wear a different necklace. “Please,
Elegba
, don’t abandon me now,” She said to the long shadows dancing in the orange light of a glorious sunset, “Stand by me until my purpose is fulfilled.”

Ryan Wheeler took Ashton’s hand into his own as they walked together toward his parents’ house. As they neared the door, Ashton stopped and locked eyes with Ryan.

“You can still change your mind, Ryan. You already know that your parents will not accept me with open arms.”

“It doesn’t matter, Ashton. I love you and if they love me they will need to accept you, because you are going to be a part of my life. It’s time the Wheelers catch up with the current century. Besides, I have no doubt they will fall in love with you in no time; just bear with my mother trying to teach you how to play Bridge.”

“Your mother is an amazing woman, Ryan. I have always admired her, although I doubt she even knows I exist.”

“She’s a good lady, Ashton, just a little too attached to status, but she will come around; I’m sure of that.”

They rang the doorbell and Mr. Wheeler opened the door. “Why, hello Son; what good wind blew you around?”

“I came by to say hi, of course, and I also would like to introduce you two to a very special lady.”

“Well, come on in then. It is very nice to meet you…I’m sorry, what is your name, young lady?”

“Ashton Logan. Ashton, this is my father.” Ryan interjected.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Sir.” Ashton said, shaking Mr. Wheeler’s hand.

“Likewise, Ashton. Please come in.”

Mr. Wheeler led them in the living room, where his wife was sitting and reading a magazine. She raised her head and smiled as soon as she saw Ryan walking in. “Hello sweetheart! What brings you over?”

Ryan was tempted to lie, then decided to take the bull by the horns. “I came by to introduce you to my girlfriend, Mom and Dad. In fact, I should say my fiancée since I asked Ashton to marry me.”

Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler exchanged looks, and Mrs. Wheeler spoke first. “My dear child, as parents we are -- rightfully so -- the last ones to find out happy news, but I do need to share something with you…I have known for a while that you and Ashton were an item.”

Ryan looked at his mother without speaking, already bracing for the harsh words he knew were ready to come. Sensing Ryan’s uneasiness, Ashton ran to his rescue. “Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler, I know I was not raised in a privileged life, and it might take me a while to catch up
with all the rules of etiquette, but I can promise that I will do my best to learn quickly. I love Ryan, and I will live to be a good wife.”

Mrs. Wheeler laid her reading glasses on the marble-topped coffee table, and settled back on the black leather couch. Her husband, afraid to say the wrong thing that would set his wife off, chose to keep silent. For a moment, the air in the room felt thick with judgment.

“Well, how do you plan on catching up, Ms. Logan?”

“I…I am not sure yet, but I will do everything in my power to not be an embarrassment to your family, Ma’am.”

“The thing that would embarrass me most, Ashton, would be to have a daughter-in-law who can’t play Bridge. I will expect you here at five when you get off work, tomorrow, to start your training.”

It took Ryan a moment to process what was happening, before his face lit up. He hugged Ashton and shook his dad’s hand, then he leaned over his mother and softly kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry, Mom, you’ll make a champion out of her in no time at all.”

Paul had already closed his store and was stocking up some items, when the sun began to set. Lately, he stayed at work past closing time more often. He missed Olivia, and although he was comfortable knowing she was happy, he loathed being home alone. Even if Olivia never formally moved to the bayou and preferred to keep her address in New Orleans, she spent more time at his house than at her apartment in the city, and Paul was always happy to rush home and cook a good country meal for her. Now there was no one to cook for, and he found it easier to stay at the store until bedtime.

He finished stocking up for the next business day when he felt a sharp pain shoot through his chest; it only lasted a few seconds, but it left him breathless. Thinking he had maybe pulled a muscle while lifting the heavy bags, he tried to stretch out his arms. He decided to move on to something lighter, and went to the back to get a case of soft drinks, but as soon as he lifted the box he felt the shooting pain again. This time it lasted longer, and his arm went slightly numb. His forehead was beaded with sweat but he felt chilled at the same time; his stomach started hurting as if he had swallowed a rock.

“That stew I ate for lunch didn’t agree with me,” he thought out loud as he walked toward the bottle of Rum he kept behind the counter. He opened the bottle and took a long swig – the spiced liquor traced a fiery path to his stomach, and he figured he would feel better within minutes.

The air in the store felt stuffy and hot, so he went outside to take a breath of the cooler evening air; he listened to the door chime when he opened the door – funny, it rang three times, as it had the night
Elegba
came to visit. He sat on the bench outside the front door, instantly welcomed by the mating song of cicadas. There was no place like the swamp at night; when the sun went down life literally pulsated through the thick forest.

He felt the sharp pain again, stronger this time, and his breathing became labored. He gulped air in, hoping to slow down his racing heart. What was happening? Then a memory flashed through his mind…
That’s your final task, Paul; then you will be free.
The old man’s words echoed into Paul’s mind as the song of the bayou sped its tempo and became louder.

Saving Melody was his final task, and he was now free to go. But he didn’t want to go…what would be of Olivia, and of Melody even, now that Mario was gone? Who would be there to take care of them?

As quickly as that thought came on, so did the answer to the question – Olivia was married now, and Graham was a good and decent man; Melody was going to be fine, too. What had
Elegba
said? Oh yes,
Be careful, because who you think is, is instead who is not,
but Melody had nothing to worry about any more; he was just as surprised as Melody when he saw Mario and Alex at the gallery, and at first he wondered if Alex was whom he should protect Melody from once again. As it turned out, Alex had changed and was no longer a threat to anyone – especially Melody, the keeper of one of the sacred rosaries. Two new chapters of Melody’s life had just begun – she had found a long lost sister and she was going to be a mother. Yes, Melody was going to be alright.

When a new surge of pain hit, Paul closed his eyes and took a deep breath; he needed to feel the sweet air of the bayou enter his lungs for one last time. He focused on the darkness ahead, and saw shadows dancing among the trees, before his attention was stolen by the sound of the chimes on the door ringing three times. With one final breath, Paul was gone.

The cleaning crew was rushing around in the gallery.

One of the workers, a large Jamaican woman in her early fifties looked at the hands of the Grandfather clock, and wished they could move faster. Her granddaughter was coming over tonight, and she was determined to get home on time. She normally didn’t mind to work a few hours past her regular schedule; the money was good and Mr. Hadley usually threw in a nice tip for her when she did extra work, but tonight she was eager to be done. She vacuumed the floor and dusted the window sills, and was ready to close up when a large spider came out from behind one of the baseboards and scurried across the tiled floor. The cleaning lady screamed. She didn’t like spiders to start with, and this one was so big! She stepped on it only seconds before it disappeared behind the clock, and took a deep breath of relief knowing the ugly beast would not be there to surprise her again the next day. She turned off the lights and double checked that all doors were locked; then, with sugarplum visions of her little angel clinging tight to her neck she went home for the night.

When the door closed, the spider, still alive, dragged its mangled body a few steps on the polished floor. Its legs were broken, and its head was almost completely crushed. It felt life slowly seeping out and curled up waiting to die. A few seconds later, Belinda Allen was finally free to join her husband Jim, and looked gratefully upon the discarded shell of the spider she had been allowed to inhabit, briefly, to make things right; her mother told the truth – spiders guard the dead and restore justice. Jim was waiting by the door. Belinda smiled as she walked toward him and into the light.

                                                      THE END
                                           

About the author…

Sandra Carrington-Smith is an Italian-born author who relocated to the United States in the late 80’s after marrying a US soldier who was serving overseas. Moving to a new country provided several challenges, the biggest one being the language barrier she encountered when she first arrived. In order to become fully integrated, Sandra tapped into her love for reading, and over time her vocabulary grew extensively. Her first novel,
The Book of Obeah, was followed by
a self-improvement book,
Housekeeping for the Soul: A Practical Guide to Restoring Your Inner Sanctuary.
Currently, Sandra is working on
a new novel,
Shadows of a Tuscan Moon
.
Killer in Sight (A Tom Lackey Mystery)
was released in May 2012. Sandra Carrington-Smith lives in Raleigh, NC, with her husband, children and three cats.
(Photo by Wall2Wall Photography.)