Wild Swans (11 page)

“I am truly sorry, Mrs. Ramsay. I really am.”

“You’re getting far too uppity in your ways missy,” Mrs. Ramsay replied. “Putting on airs and acting like a fool, trying to marry that daughter of yours off to some fine rich man like he’ll never figure out you’re one of the poorest coon-asses on this bayou. And they’ll figure it out, you know. They will and when they do those fine rich folks is going to tear the roof down on you. And then what are you going to do, miss high and mighty?”

“The phone is dead,” Cally said, interrupting Mrs. Ramsay’s tirade as she stepped out onto the veranda. “It quit that weird buzzing a few minutes ago and now it’s just...” Her voice trailed off as she looked past the women and out toward the lawn. “Would you look at that? Have you ever seen anything like it in your life?”

“What?” Ruby asked.

Cally pointed toward the lawn. Ruby gasped.

The lawn was covered with fireflies. They lay on the grass, a good inch or two thick in some places. They were flickering a sickly green while clouds of fireflies flashing a garish reddish purple swarmed above them.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Cally repeated, “
les moiselles
out this time of day. And look at those purple ones. Have you ever seen anything like that in the world?”

“They’re not from this world,” Mrs. Ramsay said, “or any other world hereafter.”

“What does that mean, Mrs. Ramsay?” Ruby asked.

“I promised not to tell,” she replied.

“They scare me, you know?” Cally said. “It’s just not natural. There’s never been
les
moiselles
that flashes colors like that. And they never come out in the daytime.”

“And how is it that we didn’t notice them before?” Elly asked. “There are a lot of dead bugs on the ground. This has been going on for a while, and yet we didn’t see it until now.”

“I don’t know,” Ruby shuddered.

“And look at the normal ones. They’re all dead or dying,” Elly said. “You’d think this place was sprayed with DDT or something.”

At least they’re not buzzards
, Ruby told herself.
I don’t think I could stand it if they were buzzards.

“It’s the purple ones scare me the most too, Cal,” Elly said. She stood; her hands trembling as she lightly touched the smooth surface of the table. “This is so wrong,
cheres.
Violet moiselles
are not in God’s plan.”

“No,” Cally said. “No, I suppose not.”

“Maybe I should be going.”

“No not now,” Cally replied. “I think you should stay here with us.”

“It wouldn’t do to get caught out in that,” Mrs. Ramsay said, motioning toward the lawn with her cane. “Mr. Lindt will be back directly. He’ll put a stop to it.”

Ruby’s mouth went dry. Again, the buzzard perched on Assisi’s head came to mind. She shuddered. “I think we ought to go inside.”

“Why? They’re only
moiselles
after all. They can’t hurt us,” Cally said.

Ruby shuddered. “Something’s bad wrong. Especially with critters that shouldn’t be out during the daylight. Or shouldn’t exist at all. We need to go inside and stay there until this blows over.”

Cally offered a halfhearted laugh. “Blows over? It’s not a hurricane, Sister. And it’s not like we can catch rabies from them. Sure, they’re spooky looking. But honestly, what can they do to us?”

“That’s true, but still, I’m ready to go in,” Ruby said.

The fireflies buzzed and swirled around the lawn, the swarm becoming denser as it moved closer towards the veranda.

“They’re coming this way,” Elly said, the tension in her voice belaying her fear. “It’s like they’ve seen us or something.”

“You don’t suppose those things can actually set the house afire do you?” Cally asked.

Elly offered her a half-hearted laugh. “Why that’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard of; fireflies
actually starting a fire. Please ladies; let’s not let our imaginations run away with us. Sure this is peculiar but still...”

“I don’t care, those things still make my skin crawl,” Cally replied.

“Even so,” Ruby amended, “the swarm is getting much bigger. You can hardly see Elly’s car from here.”

She looked over at Cally and Elly. Both of them were pale and frightened. The fireflies grew denser as they moved closer toward the house. The gesture was menacing, and Ruby found herself standing up and slowly backing toward the door.

“I think you’re right,” Cally replied. She, too, took a step backwards toward the door. Her hands were trembling as she saw the creatures, now a violent wall of black and purple approach. “We should go ahead inside.”

Cally and Elly gently helped Mrs. Ramsay up and they all headed toward the door.

“But what about Mr. Lindt?” Mrs. Ramsay asked as the younger women gave her the bum’s rush across the threshold. “We should wait for him here. He’ll take care of those things. You wait and see.”

“Why, they’re only
petite moiselles
, “Ruby said, only half listening as she helped usher the elderly woman into the house. “That’s all they are, they can’t hurt anybody. Besides, we don’t know where he is, do we?”

“But your Althea’s out there,” Mrs. Ramsay protested. “She’s out there somewhere and he’s not back yet—”

“She’s still in town,” Ruby said, fear slamming like a chunk of ice into her gut. “I doubt there’s any lightening bugs out that far.”

“Don’t push me so hard,” Mrs. Ramsay protested as she, Cally and Elly stumbled into the short foyer. “If they’re not dangerous then why are you acting like an A-Bomb has gone off? Besides, I don’t want to go. You know how stuffy it gets in there during this time of day.”

Ruby looked back and gasped. The wall of insects rushed towards the house. Ruby’s heart pounded against her ribs. Cally grabbed her by the elbow and hauled her deeper inside while Elly slammed the door.

“Just do as I ask this one time please,” Ruby said, gently aiming the elderly woman toward her apartment door. “Stay inside and whatever you do, keep your windows shut.”

“But I’ll smother in this heat,” she protested, balking at the doorway.

“Only until the
moiselles
have gone,” Ruby reassured her. She laughed. “There’s a huge swarm of them. Can you imagine how awful this’d be if they all came into the house? We’d be fighting them off with bazookas.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Mrs. Ramsay replied as she opened her door and entered her apartment. “That would make quite a mess wouldn’t it?”

“Yes ma’am it would,” Ruby agreed. “Now go ahead and take a nap and when this is over we’ll all have some sweet sherry and teacakes,” Ruby said as she closed the old woman’s door. Ruby heard the old lady’s muffled reply but was distracted by what sounded like hailstones pounding on the roof.

The fireflies attacked the porch, obscuring the table where the women sat moments earlier. They launched themselves at the door; slamming against the little cut glass window with so much force Ruby was sure they’d break it. The heavy oak door trembled inside its frame. Cally looked at Ruby. Elly gasped and put her hands to her face.

“They’re trying to get in,” Elly whispered. “They know we’re in here and they’re trying to get inside.”

“Ruby,” Cally said her voice hushed and tense, “the fireplace.” Ruby turned, placing a trembling hand against her mouth.

The foyer opened to a short hallway, where a flight of stairs rose up to join with the landing. The landing itself was horseshoe shaped, spacious with delicate wooden railings that curved around the landing and ended at the fireplace positioned on the kitchen side of the wall.

At one time the fireplace had a double fire box; one side was exposed to the kitchen and the other side faced what at one time had been a small living area before Mrs. Bristow had the room remodeled. The kitchen side fireplace had been walled up ages ago, but the living room facing firebox was still in use. The facade was constructed of river stones. Its chimney, also made from the same stone, rose between the landing ends. The firebox was swept clean, its bricks gray and sooty from over a century’s use

Ruby shuddered. She had cleaned the fireplace that morning and opened the flue to let in some air. The fireflies were inside the chimney, she could tell, because the fireplace thrummed as if it were filled with a dozen hives of angry hornets.

Swallowing hard, Ruby went to the fireplace, and reached up into the firebox. Her fingers found the flue lever. Before she could pull it closed, something that felt like a gust of hot air poured down onto her hand. She yelped, and Elly shrieked. Ruby pulled her hand out of the fireplace, noting several big red welts rising on her wrist. “They’re coming in,” Cally warned, her voice tense as piano wire. Cursing, Ruby smashed the bugs with the little ash shovel they kept next to the firebox.

“I’ll take that,” Cally said, as she snatched the shovel away. “You get the flue.” Cally slammed the shovel down onto the hearth where dozens of the insects had lit. Some were crawling up Ruby’s knees. She ignored the scalding burns as she reached up into the fireplace again, whimpering in pain as the bugs attacked her arm and shoulder.

Ruby heard shocked grunts and furious stamping as the women killed the attacking insects. Ignoring the searing pain, Ruby tried to slide the flue vent shut, almost breaking out into a shrieking fit when she realized the bug’s bodies were jamming the works. She backed up the lever and shoved hard, cutting off the fireflies’ entry into the main hall. Ruby leaned against the masonry, feeling the high pitched thrumming against her cheek. Her arm burned and ached, her thighs felt as if someone put out a lit cigarette on them. She cradled her injured arm, feeling strangely shaky, as if she had been swimming for a long time and had just stepped onto shore.

“There must be so many of them they’re choking off the chimney, otherwise we would have gotten swarmed, a lot worse than we had,” Ruby mumbled, surprised at how faint her voice was. She slumped, her forehead touching the hearth.

“Sister,” Ruby whispered.

“Ruby?” Cally called.

“Cal—” Ruby broke off.

“My God, Sister, you’re blistered all over,” Cally exclaimed as she raised Ruby’s arm. “And your hands are badly swollen too, like you got off into a nest of yellow jackets.”

“I’m okay,” Ruby said, her tone weak.

“Let me look for stingers.”

“It burns, just like someone stuck a cigarette to my skin.”

“Let me get you something for that then.”

“I can’t imagine what it’d be,” Ruby said, feeling light-headed. “What can you put on a
firefly bite?”

Elly stood at the door, looking out the little diamond shaped cut window watching the storm of fireflies as they pressed against the glass. She rubbed her arms as if she was chilled. “This ain’t right,” Elly whispered. “This ain’t part of God’s plan.
Les Moiselles
don’t swarm like that. And they don’t sting either.”

She turned and looked at her friends. “This is the devil’s work. And we all know who the devil is. He’s living here right under your roof!”

“Let’s go into the kitchen,” Cally said, ignoring Elly as she helped Ruby up. “I’ll put some calamine lotion on those burns. And please,
mon ami
, come away from the door. I need you to help me with Ruby. Her legs have gone all rubbery.”

Elly crossed herself, then stepped away from the door. “Now,” Cally said, “Take her up under the arm like so, and we’ll get her into the kitchen.”

“I’m fine,” Ruby protested, but sounded unconvincing even to herself. She let the two women stand her up, and half walk half carry her to the kitchen table where she flopped down onto a chair. Elly sat beside her, looking frightened. Ruby looked down and saw that her fingers were swollen and purple, looking almost like spoiled
boudin
.

“What’s happening to me?” Ruby asked. Elly stared, her jaw slacked, her eyes wide.

“You’re having a little allergic reaction that’s all,” Cally said. “Elly, would you please go upstairs and get the calamine lotion out of the medicine cabinet? And bring her inhaler too. It looks like she’s about to have an asthma attack. It always happens after she’s been stung.”

Ruby heard a faint acquiescence and clomping of hurrying feet up the stairs. Cally had gone to the kitchen sink, Ruby noted, and was running water over a clean wash rag. She returned with the cloth dripping in her hand. She knelt before her sister and began dabbing cold water on the bites. The coldness eased the intense burning, but the roughness of the terry cloth rag made the bites itch. She reached up to scratch and Cally knocked the hand out of her way. Ruby was astonished at how easy it was for her to do.

“Keep still now, Sister. I can’t do this while you’re squirming.”

A deep ugly sensation rose up inside her. Ruby’s eyes grew wide. “Where’s Althie?”

“Don’t you remember? You left her in town.”

“In town,” Ruby repeated, feeling a constrictive burning in her chest. She uttered a long agonizing wheeze. “I have to go get her.”

“You’re not going anywhere. Althie is safe, I’m sure. She’s got a good head on her shoulders. For all we know
les moiselles
ain’t even in town.”

Ruby inhaled and realized with horror she couldn’t exhale. She grabbed Cally’s forearm with her good hand, her jaws clenched, her eyes pleading.
If something happens to me, she thought, what’ll happen to my Althea?

“Don’t panic. You’re having an asthma attack. You have one every time you get stung by something,” Cally paused, turned and said, “Ah good, here’s Elly with your medicine. Now open your mouth so I can put the inhaler in.”

Ruby pleaded with her eyes. She tried to shake her head, desperate to communicate but was unable. Behind her, she heard Elly mumbling a novena.

“Elly hold her head. I’ve gotta pry her jaws loose.”

Ruby felt Elly’s soft hands on her cheeks. She tilted Ruby’s head, and she caught a blistering view of the ceiling light. She tried to close her eyes, but realized that she couldn’t. Ruby clasped her skirt, her fingers twisting the fabric, while Cally grasped her upper lip and jaw and pried her mouth open.

“Good Lord, don’t break it,” Elly warned.