Punished (21 page)

God. An eternity of lashes seemed atrociously cruel even for this guy.

A hand grabbed me and thrust me to the ground. I felt a boot against my ribs and let out a bitter scream. The hollow cry of distant birds filled my ears. As the driver’s boot dug into my ribs, I saw a snake slithering towards me.

“Squeeze the snake Arelia. Squeeze the snake like you want to squeeze this little man, and I’ll take care of the rest,” urged Mait’ Carrefour.

I looked up at the driver’s face and then back down at the snake. It was either me or the snake.

“Make your choice Arelia. Sacrifice the snake in my name or be an eternal prisoner here.” Mait’ Carrefour bent over and lightly stroked my forehead.

I saw the driver pull out his whip, and I knew what I had to do. I took a deep breath and grabbed a hold of the snake. I closed my eyes and focused all of my rage into squeezing as hard as I possibly could.

A lash of a whip crackled in the night air, and my eyes snapped open. The driver fell to the ground as Mait’ Carrefour stood over him, whip in hand.

“Keep on squeezing Arelia, and I’ll keep on whipping,” he said, as he dished out another lash. “If you kill that snake in my name, I’ll take him with me.”

I squeezed harder. The driver’s screams grew louder. He blindly searched for the offender. Mait’ Carrefour calmly smoked his pipe and continued to whip.

The driver’s screams were deafening, as blood oozed from his wounds.

I stopped squeezing and let go of the snake. It slithered away at a sluggish pace. I caught my breath and lifted myself up from the ground.

Mait’ Carrefour stopped whipping, and the driver lay still and silent. I went to where he was and saw that he was still alive.

“Not strong enough to make the sacrifice?” asked Mait’ Carrefour.

I examined his handsome face. “Thank you for your help Mait’ Carrefour, but I don’t want to be as ugly as him.”

Then, I ran like hell.

Chapter 23

Beautiful Spirit

As I got closer to the main house, I was out of breath and cursed myself for not working out. I was trembling from what had just occurred, and my cheek ached like hell. I tried to wipe away the blood, but it kept flowing in a seemingly never ending stream. My hands were stained, and I felt like a monster for almost strangling a poor snake to save myself. I wanted to cry some more, but I was too tired and the numbness was gradually taking over. Deep within, I knew that the nasty slave driver deserved everything he got, but he was still a human, and I couldn’t help but feel a little remorse for what I had done.

When I finally regained my composure, I saw that the magnificent house was fully lit and the drunken chatter of people radiated from the front porch. As I peered out from behind a gigantic oak, I could see a cluster of colorful ball gowns and expensive tuxedoes. Obviously there was some kind of ball.

Lively laughter and entrancing piano music flooded the night air. It was so carefree and oblivious. I was horrified that none of the guests were exactly sympathetic to the pitiful lives of the slaves that resided just a few feet away. I felt like an unworthy intruder as I watched all the happy and incredibly wealthy guests. Their conversations reeked of entitlement and consisted of stocks, slaves and the latest European fashions. Strangely, it wasn’t much different from the lives of the wealthy in present time except for the slave part.

To distract myself from my horrid state, I wondered if Lucus was at that party and if he was, would he recognize or even bother to acknowledge me? Would I be another meaningless slave to him? I wanted to find out; I was morbidly curious to see what would happen if I crashed the ball. Would he laugh at the sight of my mud-stained face with streaks of blood on it, or would a piece of him remember me? I was beginning to sound like one of those Nicholas Sparks characters that grand-mere swooned over and realized that I had to stop it. Next I would be saying stupid things like heaven forefend and sugar.

“You don’t have time, Arelia. Come here,” beckoned a deep voice from within the forest.

I recognized the voice as Brise’s and let out a giant sigh of relief when I saw him perched on an oak branch. Today, he had decided to take the form of a brown owl instead of his usual grey color. He was a lovable spirit regardless of his self-esteem issues, and I was lucky he was near rather than someone like Sousson Pannan.

“Brise? You remember me? I told Erzulie about you. I kept my promise,” I said, as I blindly stumbled into the thick maze of oak trees. “I didn’t forget. Please help me get out of this mess alive. I just want to go home.”

“Thank you Arelia LaRue,” replied Brise. “She thinks I’m beautiful.
 
She called an ugly spirit like
me
beautiful.” His voice was filled with rapture. “You’ve done well Arelia. You kept your promise. You didn’t abandon me, and now, I won’t abandon you. I know who can help you.”

“Who?” I asked confused.

“The one you love.”

I let out an exhausted sigh. “Brise, please don’t speak in riddles and puzzles. No one I love is here. I’m all alone, only you can help me. I’m begging you, please.” I was on the brink of insanity.

“Arelia if a beautiful spirit like Erzulie can find an ugly spirit like me beautiful, why don’t you think the one you love finds you beautiful?”

I felt like screaming, but I had to be respectful. Yes, be respectful to spirits. I had to keep reminding myself that.

“Brise, can you please speak, so I can better understand what you’re trying to tell me?”

“Lucus,” he replied.

“Lucus?” I asked, confused, yet strangely thrilled. Why was Lucus here? How did he get here? “But how?”

“Silly Arelia, you leave a little piece of your soul behind everywhere you go and in every year you live.”

“Hold on, are you saying that Lucus, as in 1852, Lucus is here?”’

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” he replied.

“Are you a spirit?” asked a familiar voice.

I stood frozen, as my eyes adjusted, and the figure became visible. My stomach filled with waves of unexpected joy. It was Lucus. He was a striking and beautiful figure dressed in a dark coat, crisp white shirt and a black bowtie. He slumped against an enormous oak and sipped from a bottle of whiskey.

My face flushed as I suddenly realized that I was drenched in sweat, mud and blood and probably smelled like crap. I took a step towards him and was shocked to see how different he looked. Although he was the same age, this Lucus had no sadness behind his eyes. He was surrounded by an air of exhilaration and careless freedom.

“Are you a spirit?” he asked again, as he took another swig from the bottle. “You have to be a spirit, that dress isn’t from this world, and I haven’t ever seen you around the city before. I would remember a face as beautiful as yours.”

So, this Lucus was a smooth operator. Surprisingly, I kind of liked it, and was thankful that he wasn’t horrified by my grimy appearance. Since he was drunk and I was supposedly a spirit, I didn’t feel awkward accepting his cheesy compliment.

I had no idea how I could explain the bizarre situation to him, so I just went along with it. “Yes, I’m a spirit. I’m lost; I need to find my way back to the swamp. Can you help me?” My instinct told me that if I got caught by another slave driver, Lucus would protect me.

He immediately straightened up and extended his arm. “I have no choice, but to help a lovely spirit who happens to be lost on my family’s property, now do I?” His eyes gleamed in drunken delight.

I latched on to his arm and gave him a bright smile, and tried my best to act all otherworldly and graceful.

“But hold on a minute.” He squinted and focused his eyes on the gash that marked my cheek. “I never knew that spirits could bleed.”

“Of course we can.”

“That’s not right, a beautiful spirit like you shouldn’t be allowed to shed one drop of blood.” He took of his jacket and poured some whiskey on it and used it to pat away the blood.
 

I bit my tongue in an attempt to suppress the blinding pain.

“It’s okay to scream spirit,” he said, as he gently stroked my cheek. “What have you done to your hand?” he asked, as he saw the sight of the seven dagger stab wounds.

“I…” I was out of lies.

He sighed dramatically. “You shouldn’t be so clumsy beautiful spirit.” He tore off the sleeve from his shirt and poured some whiskey on it, then covered my palm. “You’re going to be okay,” he said soothingly.
 

 
“Why aren’t you at the party?” I asked.

“She’s not there. Can you believe she said she was too busy to see me tonight? So, I’ve decided to drink her away.”

God, he was probably talking about the girl he had been in love with. I didn’t want to hear him talk about it, but I was supposed to be a spirit. Sprits were theoretically supposed to be above things like jealousy. Although given my experiences, I knew that they weren’t.

“I can’t believe that,” I said. It was true why would anyone stand him up?

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Maybe she’s in love with someone else. All of a sudden, I can’t even remember her name now that you’re here. Where can I take you tonight?”

“Take me?”

“Yes!” He grabbed my non-wounded hand and twirled me around. “Look up at the sky, the stars are out, and the night is just beginning, can’t you smell the jasmine in the air? You’ve magically appeared before me, and now I can’t imagine my life without you. Beautiful spirit, I need to show you the glory and blissful chaos that is New Orleans.”

“Are you insane?” Geez, this Lucus was pretty hyper. He wasn’t guarded at all.

He placed his arm around me, and pulled me close to him. “Not insane, I simply know what I want, and I want you.”
 
He brought his lips close to mine, but I pushed him away. He gave me a carefree smile. “I see that you’re not only beautiful, but extremely stubborn, as well. Not ready to admit that we belong together, are you?”
 

This had to be a dream. This Lucus was so happy and untroubled. His energy almost made me forget the horrific experiences that I been through. I actually wanted to go. I wanted to see New Orleans with Lucus by my side, but I knew that it was impossible unless I wanted to stay here forever.

“You can’t go with him,” Brise warned. “You don’t have time. Ask him to guide you back to the swamp. He’ll make sure you’ll get there safely.”

“I’m not stubborn, I need to get back to the swamp and find my way back to where I belong.”

He took another swig of whiskey. “Why do you want to go back to the swamp when you can go out there? We can go to the Common Street Gallery; my favorite rat is racing tonight.”

“Your favorite rat?”

“Yes.” He leaned against a tree and pulled me close to him again. He smelled exactly the same, enchanting. “Dotty is my favorite rat, and she never loses a bet. The chicken races and bull-fights are alright I suppose, but they’re nothing compared to the rat races. I swear Dotty will double our money, she always does.”

He examined by bewildered expression and let out a deep laugh. “My beautiful spirit doesn’t like rats? How about I take you to the Cafe de Quatre Saisons or the finest drinking house in town, the Gem on Royal Street? Maybe the Opera House?” He nuzzled my neck softly, and I closed my eyes, as his soft breath met my skin. “We can take in a show, go gambling and drink ourselves silly. What do spirits like to drink?” he asked.

“Blood,” I whispered, half-joking. I wanted to get a reaction out of him, see if he would freak or something.

“Then I’ll let you drain me dry,” he said, not all bothered.