Nancy K. Duplechain - Dark Trilogy 01 - Dark Bayou (14 page)

“Tell me you don’t believe what that man was saying,” I said, hoping that she would put logic before fables. She continued to prepare the roast, turning on the oven and basting the meat. “Answer me. Please.” I tried to remain calm, but I knew she could see through me. She turned to me with a heavy sigh and stared at me. She looked completely drained. “Why did you bring me there? What was the point of all of that nonsense?” I pleaded.

I let her take a moment to come up with the words to answer. After a long pause she said, “I didn’t want to take you there.”

“Then why did you?”

She looked down at the green linoleum floor that had been there since I was born. “I’ve tried to protect you from this ever since …” She looked back at me. “You needed to know. I needed to give you the choice. I can’t go no more. I’m too old. If Lyla hadn’t been in danger, I wouldn’t have even asked you to come back. But I can’t ignore it anymore.”

“So, you still believe this?”

I noticed a little fire starting to come back to her. “It’s true. All of it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure it is,” I muttered.
There was a long, uncomfortable pause. I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned around and opened the front door.

“Where are you going?”

“For a drive,” I said over my shoulder, and I closed the door hard behind me.

I hopped back into my car and peeled out, racing down the long driveway. I soon found myself on one of the back roads that ran off of 167. It was quite a few miles long, lean and curvy. I raced through it, getting up to as much as ninety miles per hour at times, slowing down only to take the curves. Most of the time, I could only see a green blur of rice, soybeans and sugar cane as I whizzed by.

I finally slowed down and took a side road. This was similar to the one I had just been on, but there were fewer farms here. I took another side road off of this one and then another and another. Soon I was lost among the tangled web of back country roads, not knowing if I was even in Vermillion Parish anymore. I didn’t care. I kind of liked it. It was quiet and there were no visual distractions. I was so far into the country that it had been at least twenty minutes since I last saw a house or any sign of civilization. Here, I was surrounded by woods and overgrown open fields and a few large crawfishing ponds. This particular road was bumpy, paved a very long time ago, but now filled with pot holes and loose gravel. I had to be careful here so that I wouldn’t get a flat or spin off the road.

I turned off a half mile later, onto yet another back road. This one was more up-to-date, paved more recently and fewer pot holes. I went for several miles through wooded landscape on either side of me, when I came to a clearing. As I approached, I instantly recognized it as the Bancker cemetery.
Figures I’d wind up here
. Without really knowing why, I pulled up alongside the cemetery. I stopped, but didn’t get out. Instead, I gazed out at the graves, spotting two with fresh flowers and yellow ribbons. They were David’s and Michelle’s.

I leaned my head back on the head rest and stared up at the ceiling. What was I doing here? I had come back for Lyla, so sure that the supposed Dark Man was going to hurt her. Could I have built the whole thing up in my head? It was so hard to ignore some things that were happening, like Jonathan’s dream and mine being similar. I hadn’t started my dreams of the Dark Man until after Lucas told me about Jonathan’s dreams. And how could Lucas have even known about the bird? And the pictures of my mother and Lyla mixed in with the ones he had taken of the crime scenes of his other cases?

I reached into the glove box and pulled out my mother’s picture. I had put it there before Clothilde got in the car. I was afraid that seeing her daughter again might upset her. I looked at the picture for a long time, remembering that day at the beach. I smiled and then looked back at David’s grave. I let my eyes move to the right and scan the area where the Stations of the Cross were. There was no one there. It was quiet and serene. I drove up a little to be closer to that side of the property. I stopped again and looked toward the replica of the grotto. There was no death smell here. No old man. Not even a bird in any of the trees that I could see.

“What do you want from me?” I whispered to no one. I laughed at myself for being so foolish. But it was an uneasy laugh. I took one more glance around the Bancker cemetery and was off again. As I drove back to Clothilde’s, I was already making a mental packing list to gather my things and head back to Los Angeles for good.

8

Answers

I
was nearing Clothilde’s long driveway. Coming towards me, in the opposite lane, was Lucas’ truck. He noticed me right away and tooted his horn. As we got closer to each other, I could see Jonathan in the front seat, frantically waving to me. Lucas put on his signal to turn right. I started to slow down. He started to slow, but it wasn’t soon enough. At that very second, a stray dog ran out in front of his truck. He couldn’t break fast enough. He ran over it and the truck lifted off the ground slightly, and then it leveled off. He turned into the entrance of the driveway, threw his truck into park and got out, Lyla following closely behind him. I parked on the right side of the road and ran to meet them.

The poor pooch was still alive, whimpering and trying to move his back legs, trying to move anything, but only his tail twitched slightly. He darted his eyes to us, frightened, hurt. He was a lost cause. I covered my mouth, tears already forming in my eyes. Jonathan screamed from the truck.

“I’m going to take Jon to the house and then come back,” Lucas said to me, trying not to tear up in front us. “I’ll put it out of its misery.”

It took me a second to realize what he meant. Then it clicked. He was a cop and carried a gun. While Lucas drove Jonathan down the long driveway to the house, I bent down to the poor dog, wanting to hold it. It looked at me helplessly. I couldn’t take it. I went back to my car and got in, leaving the door open. The tears streamed down my cheeks. I closed my eyes tightly and tried not to think of it. I couldn’t stand to see anything suffer. I opened my eyes again and noticed Lyla kneeling by the dog, her back to me.

“Lyla, don’t touch it!”

She didn’t listen to me. I groaned, got out of the car, crossed the street again and went up to her. I stood on the other side of the dog, facing Lyla. Her hand rested on his thick brown fur. Her eyes were closed, and she was in deep concentration.

“Lyla …” I started, but stopped. The dog closed his eyes, like he was in more pain for a moment. He whimpered again and his breathing escalated. I kneeled down to Lyla’s level. “Sweetheart, let Uncle Lucas take care of this, okay? It’ll be all right.”

She ignored me. I choked back some more tears and gently went to remove her hand from the dying animal. When I touched her, it felt like I had just touched a hot stove. I instantly withdrew my hand. I stared at her, studying her face to see if she had a fever, but she looked fine. Her eyes were still closed.

“Lyla? Are you okay?”

Suddenly, the dog’s eyes opened. His tail wagged and before I realized what was going on, he stood up on all fours and ran away like nothing ever happened to him. My mouth hung open. Lyla opened her eyes. I stared at her, and she suddenly became very self-conscious. She got up and ran down the driveway towards the house before I could say a word. I heard footsteps running towards me now.

“Where is it?” asked Lucas.

“It ran away,” I said in a slight daze.

“What? That’s impossible.”

“I know,” I murmured, looking in the direction the dog ran. I got up slowly and Lucas gave me another of those worried glances he was becoming famous for. “Let’s go in the house,” I managed, and started down the driveway.

“What about your car?”

I stopped, still in a daze. “Oh, yeah.” I headed for my car.

“Leigh, you all right?”

“Uh-huh.” He shook his head and walked back to the house while I got in my car and drove back. When we walked in, Clothilde looked a little relieved to see me. Jonathan ran up to Lucas.

“Daddy!” Fresh tears started to form in his little brown eyes.

Lucas picked him up and held him to his shoulder. “It’s okay,” he soothed. “The dog’s fine. Miss Leigh said it got up and ran away.”

“Really?” he beamed.

“Yeah. Now c’mon.” He set him down on the floor. “Let’s go get washed up for supper.” They excused themselves to the downstairs bathroom which was at the end of the hallway, near Clothilde’s bedroom.

“Where’s Lyla?” I asked Clothilde as I stepped into the kitchen. A pang of guilt broke me from my daze when I looked over at the table and saw the egg salad between a blackberry pie and a pitcher of sweet tea.

Clothilde pulled the pot roast from the oven and placed it on the stove top. “In her room, changing her clothes. She got a little dirty playing this afternoon.”

I nodded, but she didn’t see me. I watched her give the roast an ajus rinse. “Maw maw?”

She cocked her head towards me, but kept tending to the roast. I didn’t know what to say, what to ask. Too many questions I didn’t want to know the answers to. Lucas and Jonathan walked back in, and I kept my mouth shut. Clothilde kept silent, probably knowing what I wanted to ask.

“Can I help you with that, Miss Clothilde?” offered Lucas.

“If you could put it in this platter here and bring it to the table …” she said. Lucas lifted the hunk of meat with a couple of big forks and rested it on the platter. He carried it to the table and placed it in the center where Clothilde had made room. He held Clothilde’s chair out for her and then did the same for me. My mind was elsewhere, so it didn’t occur to me to notice his gentlemanly charm. I just accepted it and sat, staring at my plate.

Lyla came trotting down the stairs. I looked up at her, and it looked like she wanted to turn around and run back to her room. She descended the last couple of steps slowly and took her seat at the table with Lucas getting her chair, too. She sat next to Clothilde, as far away from me as she could get. She kept her eyes from me, too. Jonathan sat to my right.

Lucas carved the meat and then we all served ourselves. When our plates were set before us, Clothilde led a prayer in French as we bowed our heads and prayed with her. I remembered every single word from her coffee party days when she and her friends said their whole rosaries in French. I noticed that Lyla also knew the words. Jonathan didn’t know them, but he recited it anyway, phonetically sounding out each syllable. Had I not still been in somewhat of a daze, I would have smiled at how cute he was.

The food was delicious, as Clothilde’s cooking always was. But I couldn’t bring myself to truly enjoy it. Throughout the whole meal, my mind raced with questions. Lucas put on a happy face, being the natural charmer he always was. He entertained us with jokes and quips. But every now and then, I could see him stealing a worried glance my way. I wished I could be as casual as he was. I was sure that my face was saying things my mouth wasn’t. It seemed Lyla took after me in that regard. She barely looked up from her meal, pushing food around with her fork throughout dinner.

And something else crossed my mind. Lucas would want to talk to me before he left. He would want to know what was going on. I couldn’t tell him what was going on when I still needed answers. I would have to get rid of him early so I could talk to Clothilde. Getting rid of him wouldn’t be easy, though. I’d have to lie to him for now.

After dinner, I volunteered to wash the dishes. A nice monotonous job would let me think about what exactly I wanted to say to Clothilde. And then there was Lyla. I had to be careful around her. She looked like she would bolt if I asked her about what happened this afternoon. I decided to let her be for the night and just talk to Clothilde.

When I was done with the dishes, I joined everyone in the living room and took a seat on the sofa, in between Lyla and Jonathan. Lyla kept to herself. Jonathan rested his head against the arm of the sofa, his eye lids heavy.

“Looks like someone’s ready for bed,” I said, nodding at Jonathan.

“Ready to go, buddy?” asked Lucas. Jonathan replied with a half nod, his eyes drooping shut. We smiled.