Possessed (21 page)

Rumor had it that more debt collectors
were knocking on his door, so he was eventually going to have to
sell off more of us in and I knew I was next in line. No one wanted
to be sold into the market because of how awful and humiliating
life inside a New Orleans slave pen was supposed to be. I had no
intention of experiencing that type of humiliation so one night I
decided to run. I packed some cornbread, candles and my secret
stash of herbs and oil and just ran. I had nothing to live for and
nothing to lose, so I had no fear. It’s funny the things you’re
capable of doing when fear abandons you. I had faith that the
spirits would guide me and protect me. That somehow they would show
me where I belonged.

I ran for what felt like hours and even
though I was beyond weary I refused to stop. In the distance the
howl of tracking dogs captured my attention and I knew I had to
keep on running. A full, phantom-like moon illuminated my way into
the dangerous but protective swamp where I knew I would be safe.
Snakes, alligators and bugs didn’t bother me because I knew they
were harmless when compared to most humans. In the savage and
unpredictable world my life was, the only person who had ever shown
me any true kindness had been my mother, and now that she was dead,
I had no reason to stay on that plantation waiting for my fate to
be decided.

The earth turned to mush under my bare
feet and swarms of mosquitoes attacked me as I meandered further
into the swamp. The hiss of snakes, hoots of owls, and cries of
birds were all welcome and soothing sounds and reminded me that for
the time being I was safe. I let out a huge sigh of relief as the
outline of Spanish moss dangled against the full moon and I saw
clumps of cypress trees with yellow and blue wild flowers and
berries growing in tangles around them. The night air was
unbelievably humid and sticky but it was glorious. I was free and
for the first time felt alive.

I extended my arms and took in the damp
smell and sound of the wild animals and…

“
Help me please,” whispered
a voice with a heavy French accent. It totally interrupted my
moment of liberation.

I hid behind an intimidating cypress
trees and crouched down on my knees. I wasn’t naïve enough to
answer. One wrong move could mean death or capture and there was no
way I was going back to that plantation.

“
Please. I beg you, please
help me.”

I didn’t respond.

“
Please. I’ll do anything.
Help me.”

I let out a tired sigh and rolled my
eyes. Wow. Who knew Marie was an eye roller too? I slowly got up
from the ground and eyed my surroundings.

“
Who are you?” I asked.
“Where are you?”

“
I’m dying. I’m dying.
Please stay with me. I don’t want to die alone.” The voice was
barely audible.

I always thought that dying alone was
the most tragic thing that could happen to a person, so I felt bad
for whoever was about to die.

“
Where are you?” I asked
again.

“
Over here. To your
right.”

Slowly, I walked to my right until I
almost hit the edge of the swamp. The moon shone down on the dark
water and cast an eerie glow on the mystery figure.

There in front of me lay a man who
wasn’t much older than me, perhaps twenty or so. His dark hair was
caked with mud and his skin was an unsightly shade of yellow and
bronze. It wasn’t the type of bronze that came from a sun tan, but
the type that indicated he was dying from yellow fever. As I got
closer I saw that dark blood was gushing from his mouth and nose.
His white shirt was unbuttoned and torn. His eyes fell on me and my
heart unwillingly fluttered. Even though he was dying, his gaze was
strong and determined. Despite the fact he was covered in mud and
blood he was still the most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes
on.

I instantly got down on my knees and
brushed away the strands of hair that were stuck to his high
cheekbones. “What possessed you to run off into a swamp when you’ve
got the fever?” I asked.

He looked at me and gave me a smile
that made his eyes gleam. Even through his pain he was alive. “So I
could die in your presence, Ma Cheri. Come lie down beside me and
help me count the stars.”

At this point, Arelia would have rolled
her eyes again, but Marie didn’t. As Marie, I smiled and let out a
girly laugh. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had given me
a compliment like they truly meant it. I hadn’t laughed for so long
that the ring of my own laughter was foreign to my ears. No one had
ever invited me to look at the stars with them. I lay down beside
him and looked up at the canopy of twinkling stars and for the
first time really noticed them.

“
How many stars do you
suppose there are?” he asked.

“
I don’t think we’re meant
to know the answer to that. It’s a mystery.”

“
What is your name?” he
asked, as his eyes met mine.

“
Marie.”

“
Marie. Marie. M'ange de le
lux,” he sang. “How did you find me, Marie? I’ve dreamt of you my
entire life.”

My cheeks glowed and immediately knew
that I couldn’t let him die. “What is your name?”

“
Jacques.”

“
You’re not from Louisiana,
are you, Jacques?”

He shook his head. “I’m from
Paris.”

He took his warm hand into mine. His
fingers were long and graceful like they belonged to a pianist or a
painter. It was the first time I held hands with a man, and it
filled my stomach with butterflies. We looked at the stars in
silence but with every passing second I could feel his energy
slipping away and Papa Ghede calling his name.

“
Have you ever been to
Paris?”

“
I’ve never been
anywhere.”

“
I’d take you to the stars
if I could. We would bounce from star to star.”

I let out a big laugh. “I prefer the
moon over the stars.”

“
Well then we could bounce
from the stars to the moon and then back again. There are no rules
when it comes to the stars and moon.”

“
There are too many rules
and regulations in my world,” I said.

“
In mine too. That is why I
chose to die in a swamp, so I could at least die free.”

“
Do you want to die,
Jacques? Or do you want to live?”

“
I want to live, but that’s
not possible.”

“
I can make it possible,” I
said, as I slowly opened the small sack of oils and herbs. The
spirits had to help me save this man. I didn’t know what it was
about him, but I couldn’t let him die.

“
Are you a spirit? You must
be a spirit. I’ve heard countless legends and myths about the
beautiful spirits of New Orleans. Paris doesn’t have
spirits.”

I smiled shyly and wished I was wearing
a fancy dress instead of a potato sack- not that I’d ever owned a
fancy dress. “No. I’m not a spirit, only a human, but I can speak
with spirits and ask them to help you.”

“
Why do you think they would
be willing to help a silly Parisian who chose to die in a
swamp?”

“
It’s a mystery.” I winked.
“I’ll be right back. Stay right there,” I said, as I got up and
searched for some wild berries. I knew that I needed to make an
offering to Papa Loco. He was the loa responsible for healing and
preferred his offerings in the form of fruits, vegetables and other
types of vegetation. I scanned the trees and air for a butterfly; I
knew that one of Papa Loco’s favorite forms to take was that of a
butterfly because it allowed him to travel with the wind and listen
in on people’s conversations with them being unaware of his
presence.

After finding some wild berries, I
wrapped them in green leaves that I found scattered on the muddy
earth and hung them on a cypress branch.

“
Papa Loco. Papa Loco,” I called.
“Please help me save him, please.”

There was silence.

“
Please Papa Loco. Please,”
I begged.

There was a gust of warm wind and the
swamp water rippled madly for a few seconds. “I can feel you,
please show yourself. Please help me.”

Dead leaves from the muddy earth
started to gently float in the air and on top of one of them rested
a breathtaking blue butterfly. It fluttered in the wind and then
landed on my shoulder. My skin tickled and I let out a laugh.
Everything felt so vivid and colorful. Full of hope and
possibilities. “Papa Loco?”

“
Hello Marie,” said a deep
and infinitely wise voice.

“
Hello Papa Loco. Will you
help me? He’s over there, look.” I walked over to where Jacques lay
and kneeled down beside him. His eyes were closed and his skin was
hot and clammy. I knew he didn’t have much time left.

Papa Loco landed on Jacques chest and
examined him for a few seconds. “Why Marie? Why would you like to
save him? He’ll cause you nothing but pain if you do.”

I let out a low sigh. “Maybe I’m being
foolish, but the few moments I spent with him have given me more
joy than the last nineteen years of my life have given me. Surely
anyone who is capable of bringing that much joy to another person
must be worthy of living?”

“
It’s not always wise to
think with your heart, little one. You should run. You should run
until you get to the end of the river. Head up North where the air
is cold and freedom awaits you. Leave him here. If he’s meant to
die, he will. If he’s meant to live he will survive.”

“
No, please, Papa Loco.
Please. He’s so young. Please give him a chance. I’ve seen so much
cruelty in my life. All I want is a sign that some good still
exists in this world. Please help him; please show me that not
everything about this existence has to be cruel and painful. I
don’t wish to see anymore needless death and suffering.
Please.”

Papa Loco sat on Jacques’ head for a
few seconds and then after a moment of silence he finally spoke.
“Fine, Marie. I will spare his life, but remember it’s foolish to
get your heart involved. The heart may want what it wants but
sometimes it is not always for the best. I’ll save him but you need
to save yourself. Hide here until tomorrow night. He’ll be stronger
by then. Once he’s better, you run and never look back. Make sure
your paths never cross again.”

I nodded reluctantly but inside my
heart was broken. I didn’t want to leave him. “And if our paths do
cross?”

“
There’s always a price to
pay.”

I stroked Jacques forehead with my
hand. ‘I’ll do as you say. I promise I’ll leave him tomorrow at
nightfall.”

Chapter 29

Giggles and
Kisses

A few Miles outside of New
Orleans July, 1830

The sun caressed my face and I let out
a small yawn. Around me there were colors, sounds and shapes that
were so vivid and almost overwhelming. Swirls of pillowy clouds
danced in the sea blue sky. Birds hummed, snakes hissed and yellow
wild flowers and purple wisteria blooms hung so low from the
cypress trees that they tickled my nose and prompted me to giggle
for no reason. I felt like giggling at everything because I was
free. Despite the fact that I was sleeping in a muddy swamp where
snakes dangled from the trees and ravenous alligators were inches
away, I felt safe. Safer than I’d ever felt.

Beside me, Jacques was snoring softly.
I couldn’t help but admire the shape of his full lips and how they
turned slightly upwards as if he were always smiling. I ran my
fingers over his stubbly chin and traced the shape of his strong
jawline. His eyelashes were so long and perfect and his skin was no
longer the hideous shade of yellow bronze it had been the night
before, but now a lovely shade of tan. His fever was gone along
with the blood that had been dripping out of his nose and mouth the
night before. For hours I watched him sleep just to make sure he
was alright. I was worried that he would suddenly disappear; I
would wake up and find myself back in Deep Oak
Plantation.

When his eyes finally opened and looked
into mine, my heart melted.

“
Marie. Marie. I knew you
were m'ange de le lux.”

I giggled, as he softly stroked my
cheek and smiled at me.

“
How are you feeling?” I
asked.

“
Brand new,” he said, as he
leaned over and kissed me. He was still weak but I could see that
he would live.

I’d never been kissed before and was
shocked and taken aback.

That single kiss told me that I never
wanted to leave his side. I wanted to be with him regardless of
what Papa Loco had told me. We spent the entire day lying under the
sun like children listening to the birds sing, the humming of the
swamp animals and speaking of our dreams. His dreams were big while
mine were small. He wanted to travel the world while I only wanted
a small home with a rose garden. I also wanted to learn how to read
and write. The day was a flurry of giggles and kisses.

When I was with him I didn’t feel like
a slave or a free person because he didn’t see me as one or the
other. I forgot the color of my skin, how tall I was, the fact that
I was wearing a potato sack or that I had never had anything to
really call my own. I just felt like a girl. For the first time in
my entire life I knew what it felt like being truly happy. That
night, I fell asleep in his arms listening to the sound of his
heartbeat and I finally understood the meaning of love. He showed
me that even in a world that was capable of being so ugly and
cruel, good still existed. Papa Loco had warned me to run away but
I ignored him.