Blackwater (15 page)

Her white dress floats around her. She floats just as I imagined the ghostly whispers would. I'm paralyzed. I wish I had bunny. I wish Grandmamma were here.

"
Lorelei, how many times did I try to warn you? They been here before. She knows them and I tried to warn you."
She shakes her head back and forth. Her eyes are angry, disappointed maybe.

I shake my head. I know black streaks mark my face, where I have cried the Devil's tears.

She puts her twitchy white hands on her hips, "
Don’t shake your head at me child. I done told you. I done told you a hundred times, if I told you once. She's evil and now she's coming, Lorelei. She's gonna be coming for you."

She turns back into the wind and blows past me, through me.

I shiver and watch Aunt Tessa waltz and hum. Nothing is the way I imagined it.

The stairs just barely hold my body weight. The hallway upstairs looks the same. Everything upstairs looks like it did the day I ran. The day they all died.

I step into my sister's room and feel sickening guilt flood me.

"Don't look so sad, Lorelei." I spin and gasp. It's Emily but she is dressed like the lady from the Governor's party. A white pantsuit and short dark hair but her face is something I could never forget. I feel like I could pass out, if that were even possible.

She takes a step toward me. The boards of the hall creak under her weight.

"Impossible." I whisper.

She doesn’t float like the ghost in the garden. She is solid and makes the dust in the night's air swirl around her.

Her face twists, "You don’t look happy to see me, Lorelei."

I scream.

I scream loud.

I'm not the bravest undead thing.

She puts a hand over my mouth. It's cold but it's there. Her throat is white and creamy. Just as it was before their hands cut it and her blood sprayed me, and the wall.

A moan is still coming from my lips but she has it muffled.

"Dear sweet god, you still are the prettiest girl in all Louisiana," she says.

"Emily?" I ask but her hand muffles my words.

She nods. She doesn’t smile. Her blue eyes look the same but they're older. She hasn’t aged a day. She is beautiful.

She cocks an eyebrow at me, "I will bet you all the termites in this old hovel, we're thinking the same thing right now."

She drops her hands and I put a finger out to poke her cheek. She laughs. She still doesn’t look happy to see me. She ain't the same as before.

"How? Are you like me?" I ask, flabbergasted.

She rolls her eyes, "How can you be such a smart girl and yet so dumb, Lorelei? Bad taste in men, bad taste in friends, and bad taste in clothes. What are you wearing now?"

I look down at my tight black skinny jeans and denim jean jacket. My biker boots really complete the look to me.

I laugh nervously, "What's wrong with this? What about you? You're dressed like you belong in the sixties still." My words sound like we are still sisters and it's been a week apart. Not both dead and undead and forty-eight years separated.

Her eyes flash, "I'm still in the sixties, Lorelei. I never left. I never leave."

I'm lost. "What are you?"

She laughs bitterly again, "A ghost. Dang girl, what do I look like, the fucking tour guide?"

I flinch at her cussing and shake my head, "The scary woman in the white nightgown in the garden is a ghost. She looks like a ghost. You look real."

She shakes her head and walks into her room. She lies back on the bed and dust flies everywhere. "We can choose the form we take in our own home. This ain't her home. She's from Blackwater Bayou. She looks real there and here she looks like a ghost. If I were to go visit her there, I would look like the ghost."

Her face suddenly flashes in my mind again. I know her face, "Momma was from Blackwater. Was that momma?"

Emily laughs again, "No silly. That was her twin sister, Maria. That was Auntie Maria." She is speaking to me like I should know it all, but I don’t. I'm completely confused.

"She looks like momma."

Emily stands and swipes a hand across the dresser. The things on there go flying everywhere. Smashing. Dust clouds the air, but through it I can see her angry face. "I SAID TWIN DUMMY! HOW ARE YOU SO STUPID, LORELEI? MOMMA HAD A TWIN SISTER WE NEVER KNEW ABOUT! OBVIOUSLY!" She sits back on the bed and sighs.

I'm shaking along with the panels in the wall that tremble under the force of her anger.

She looks at me and is sweet again, "I missed you some bad. I tried to come and find you but I can't leave the house, not like Maria. I know what a chicken shit you always was, so I wished I could come looking like the grim reaper's bride and scare the snot out of you. Anyway, Maria couldn’t find you until now."

I look around at the disgusting mess, "Why didn’t you leave?"

She shrugs, "Momma did something to this old shack to make it so I can't leave. She learned she had to do that after Aunt Maria haunted your ass for nineteen years. Little did she know Momma was coming for me and not you at all." Her eyes focus on me and I see the light that flickers in there, unnatural light. "Where were you?"

My lips tremble, "I moved a lot. Saw the places I imagined you would want to see."

She stands and looks into my eyes, "You look the same. Can I see them?" She looks at my lips.

I nod and open my mouth. My fangs drop. I wince every time. It always hurts.

She touches one. "Sharp."

I nod again.

She scowls, "Wipe your face. You look like a horror show. All fangs and black tears."

I look around the room and start to laugh.

She looks angry again. She watches me lose my mind and starts laughing with me.

I turn and walk out of the room. I walk to my door and turn the knob.

She whispers and it echoes off the walls, "You don’t want to go in there."

I look back at her and push the door open.

The smell is unbearable.

It hits like fog, wet and heavy.

The room is destroyed. My bed is broken, as is my dresser. My clothes are all over the place, rotting into the carpet. There is a hole in the ceiling where branches and vines are climbing through.

My French doors are ripped off and smashed on the floor.

My chest burns when I see it.

Blood is smeared across the walls. I don’t know whose it is.

Emily did this. She destroyed my room. I know it.

I look back at her and know what I have done to her.

Pain fills her eyes. "I didn’t mean to."

I shake my head, "Me either."

She rushes me and wraps her arms around me. Her squeeze is intense. She sobs a dry cry into my neck. I wrap myself around her.

"I'm so sorry, Emily. I'm so sorry. I never knew. I never knew you were here." I sob.

She grips me and trembles. "Forty-eight years I've waited."

I'm ashamed. I'm always ashamed.

She pulls away and turns from me.

"Let's go bring Tessa in. She'll dance until she passes out."

I look around in disbelief. "Can we fix it? I can do the work. I can hire the help."

She looks back at me and smiles, "You would do that? You would stay?"

I frown, "How could I leave you now?"

She smiles and for the first time I really see my sister. She arches an eyebrow at me, "How did you know Momma was from Blackwater Bayou?"

I watch her eyes and wait to see if she is gonna flip out again.

"Grandmamma Holt. She was from over that way. Said the magic of Louisiana is in Blackwater Bayou."

She crosses her arms and nods, "Ramón's Grandmamma was from Blackwater Bayou, the same as momma? So they were both witches? That’s how she knew her?"

I gasp, "Momma was a witch?"

Emily smiles and nods, "Yeah, she's something alright."

I look around and almost whisper, "Is Maria evil?"

Emily laughs again, "Lord no. Momma let them kill her, vampires, like the ones that killed me. Maria's been a ghost since she was seventeen."

I nod, "Better than sixteen I bet."

Her eyes grow dark again. "Better than sixteen." she agrees.

We walk out to the old dance floor and I feel it in the air. I think it will always be there, like a stain on the earth. The dead linger here.

"I loved him so much, Lorelei. So much." She leans against a fallen pillar.

"I'm so sorry, Em." I hate myself.

She looks at me and smiles wickedly. "I bet you know that feeling don’t you? You know what it feels like to love something so much." She steps toward me and pushes my chest. I stumble back. The force in her anger is overwhelming.

"YOU KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO DIE FOR SOMEONE? I DIED FOR YOU! YOU KILLED ME, LORELEI!" She is screaming and scaring Tessa, who has stopped dancing and is watching us.

I shake my head, "I never knew. I never knew what he was."

She covers her face and screams. "MARIA WARNED YOU! DON’T GIVE ME THAT SHIT! SHE WARNED YOU AND YOU IGNORED HER! YOU KNEW!"

I walk to her and wrap my arms around her. She sobs but nothing leaves her eyes. I hold her and ignore the excuses that float through my mind. Everything I have is a petty excuse compared to the death of everyone and everything.

I stroke her soft head of hair, "I know, Em. I know."

Tessa smiles at us, "You girls must be ready for bed. I know I am. Lord, I'm tired tonight. All that dancing. All that jazz music. Whew." She wipes her brow and walks to us. I start to laugh again. Emily laughs with me and I notice more of the garden is dug up. The oak we walked past is tipped over. I pull her back and look at her, "You have to stop wrecking the house."

Her eyes glint in the light. "I can't help it."

I look around, "Where did the dead go? The others?"

She shrugs, "I don’t know. I wasn't here right away. I was just floating for a while. When I got here it looked pretty old and decrepit. Tessa was living here alone."

I look at Tessa, "Where did the bodies go? Who cleaned up and boarded things up?"

She shrugs, "Some men came in the beginning and said some rituals happened. Said that a bunch of folks was murdered in the rituals. Then men came and took the bodies." She shudders, "I was here as they were taking him. I tried to fight them and hold him, but they took him away." I know she is talking about Daddy. It's nonsense but I know what she means.

"If Maria is a ghost where is Momma?" I ask.

Emily gives me an icy stare and puts her finger to her lips, "We don’t speak of some things here." I don’t know what that means, but I assume it has something to do with Tessa.

We put Tessa to bed and I can feel the sun starting to rise. I look at Emily and smile, "I have to go to bed." I don’t trust her. I don’t trust my sleeping body in her care. She is volatile and hates me still, on some levels. I blame her for none of it. I would forgive her anything but I can't ask the same. Not when I took everything.

"Where you gonna sleep?" she asks softly.

I shrug and walk to the front door, "I'm going back to my truck. I'll get a motel room. I need total darkness."

She nods, "Okay. I'm sorry about your room, Lorelei."

I look at her and feel the black tears forming, "I'm sorry for everything else."

She smiles and I walk out the front door and try not to lose myself in the driveway or the remains of the oak alley. I walk and I swear I can feel his eyes on me. I pick up the pace, running to my truck.

Staying in a motel is annoying. Not as annoying as the general contractors I've met with. Being home is a horrid haunting feeling. I swear at every moment I can feel Whit's eyes on me. Out of the corner of my eye I swear I see movement. My hair on my arm raises. I should have picked somewhere else to meet with the contractors. Sitting in the window of the coffee shop with Luke, the contractor I'm gonna hire, feels too vulnerable. There are windows straight across the entire front wall. I ignore the feeling and look back at Luke. He makes me smile. I am definitely hiring him. Partly because he is sexy and partly because he restored an old house a few streets over from mine, and he did a great job. He has the pictures spread across the wooden table. I glance over them and force my brain to focus on the moldings and finery.

"Well this is some work, Luke." I mutter.

He grins and I try not to let my mouth water. I force my eyes back to the windows.

The parking lot is dark but I swear I see his dark eyes through the window. I'm determined to still hate him. Even though holding a grudge goes against my natural instincts and loving him is the easiest thing I have ever done. No, I have hated him for almost fifty years; I can easily eek out another fifty.

I reach my hands across the
table
and hold Luke's. I see the way he swallows hard and stutters. He is so cute.