Tell Me I'm Dreamin' (4 page)

Upon entering the room where Nadine would sleep, Catherine produced a box of matches from the folds of her dress and lit a lamp near the door. She released a heavy sigh, and began to talk in hushed tones.

“You have to understand Madame Deane, Miss Nadine. Her world is made up of the past and the present. For her, in some ways, they are one. But don't you think for a moment that she is not aware of what is going on around her. She is. Sometimes she just interprets it a little differently than other people. To tell you the truth, through the years I've come to enjoy it,” Catherine confided as she turned back the bed. “It brings the mystery and the power of the past into a somewhat uneventful present. And I knew she would react the way she did when she saw you.” She waved her index finger. “I believe it did me, as well as Madame Deane, some good to see that old spark return to her eyes. It used to burn all the time before her accident. But you need not worry about any of that.” Catherine tugged at her head wrap. “Just get a good night's sleep, and you will be able to go on your way tomorrow. I'll get Clarence, he's the handyman around here, to take you,” she remarked as she fluffed the pillows. “I believe it was Clarence who told you to follow him here. His ways take a little getting used to, but he's really not so bad.” She put her hands on her boxy hips. “Would you care for anything to eat?”

Nadine watched the Bajan woman puttering around as if she were her maid and it hit her again, how far away she was from Mississippi. “I really hate to put you through any more trouble than I already have, but I am hungry,” Nadine confessed. “I had a half of a sandwich for lunch, and that seems like eons ago.”

“Is that all you had during the midday meal?” Catherine leaned back. “Here, lunch is our main meal of the day. Don't worry.” She waved her hand. “I will bring you some codfish balls and cakes that were left over from supper today.”

Nadine had no idea what codfish balls were, but it didn't matter. She was hungry enough to eat anything. “Alright,” she replied.

“Good. But first you might want to clean up a bit,” Catherine said, removing a couple of leaves from Nadine's hair. “I'll be back with some towels, and something for you to sleep in. The bathroom is down the hall between this bedroom and Master Ulysses' bedchamber. He went to Barbados about three days ago and is not expected back until tomorrow,” she said before shutting the door behind her.

Glancing about the room, Nadine could see that it was tastefully decorated with an antique dressing table and bed. She walked over to the mirror that rose above the dressing table and was stunned by her appearance. She looked like she had been through a major ordeal. There was a strained look on her face and large pieces of leaves and twigs were sticking out of her hair. Nadine began to remove the debris and decided this had been the most harrowing day of her life. She comforted herself by thinking it was all coming to an end, and somehow, tomorrow, she would contact Dr. Steward to put her life in order again.

Her hands felt heavy as she removed the flexible ponytail holder from her thick, light-auburn hair. Once freed, it reached just below her shoulders. Nadine looked at it. Gloria, her dearest friend, had always encouraged her to wear her hair down. She said that Nadine's hair was one of her best assets, but Nadine had never worn it that way. She had felt it would call too much attention to herself, which would be a vain thing to do, and of course, in the Lord's eyes vanity was a sin.

With her thoughts far away Nadine unconsciously arranged her hair attractively around her face, but when she realized what she had done she stopped abruptly, and smoothed it back with her hands.

“It needs washing, that's all,” she said to the strange surroundings.

She steered her thoughts to the moment at hand, and how ill-prepared she was to spend the night away from her hotel room. She had very little with her in the fanny pack. Nadine unzipped the small bag, thinking of the toiletries she did not have, and was surprised to see the onyx slab. It had been forgotten in the midst of everything else that had taken place.

She attempted to take it out, but the task was difficult; the stone was stuck inside the pack with her large-tooth comb. When she was able to remove it a conversation surfaced in her mind. She had overheard her boss and a colleague discussing a collection known as the Gaia Series, a set of stone carvings that some believed were tied to a legend on Eros. Either way, for their artistic value or for their mysterious origins, they felt the set was very important. Nadine thought they said one of the pieces was an onyx unicorn. For a moment she considered the probability that the unicorn carved on the slab was the one they referred to, but she quickly discredited the thought. It would be highly unlikely that she had discovered one of the rare pieces during her first day on Eros. She placed the onyx slab in the lower drawer of the dressing table.

Nadine looked at the remaining items in the pack, her comb, her glasses, and a small care case for her contact lenses. She had bought the lenses the day before she left Memphis, but did not put them in her eyes until she arrived at the airport. It was her way of lessening her chances of running into someone she knew. Nadine wanted to anonymously get accustomed to living without the thicklensed glasses she had worn her entire life. On a deeper level, she had decided the contact lenses and the trip to the Caribbean were the first steps toward a new approach to her life. Although the notion was quite scary, she was determined to be a changed woman when she set foot in the United States again. A woman who was open to new, stimulating situations. A woman who was not afraid to live and to love.

Of its own volition Nadine's brow lifted. Yes, she was open to new experiences on Eros and Barbados, but not the unexpected situations she had thus far encountered. Here it was her first day: there had been an earthquake, she had nearly been killed by a rock avalanche, and now, at this very moment, she was staying in the bowels of this island at the home of some strange white folks, led here by a mysterious man, while the owner of the place, eccentric to say the least, thought she was someone called Lenora.

But even today's events hardly dimmed the sparkle of Nadine's delight over being in the islands. Her love for her work was unshakable. She was here to do the work she had aspired to: historical research. The Caribbean was a land she had always dreamed of visiting and this house and its occupants surpassed even her wildest imaginings. Nadine believed the Deane family had lived on Eros for many generations. Perhaps before she left tomorrow she could talk to Catherine, or even Madame Deane, although she was a little unbalanced. Yet Catherine had said she was well aware of the past and the present.

Nadine heard a warning tap before Catherine opened the bedroom door. The housekeeper brought in the towels and clothing she had promised.

“The food will be here by the time you return from your bath. The bathing area is behind the first door you come to, where the two hallways connect. I lit all of the lamps before I went to get the towels, so you shouldn't have any problem finding your way.”

“Thanks,” Nadine replied.

“I've already run your bathwater. I suggest you hurry before it gets cold. If you leave your clothes here while you're bathing, I can repair your pants and have them washed and ready for you sometime in the morning.”

“Wow. Such service,” Nadine exclaimed as she continued to be surprised. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

Catherine nodded then disappeared into the corridor.

Nadine removed her pants and top, and donned the homespun linen robe which had been provided for her. It felt soft and pleasant against her skin. Catherine had also given her rawhide thongs for her feet.

Finding the bathing room was easy. Carefully, Nadine opened the door which had carved dolphins on the surface. She kept thinking about everything that had happened to her within the last few hours. It was almost unbelievable, and the research possibilities were beyond belief. Nadine let out a shriek. The cause for her scare was her own reflection in an oval mirror.

“Oh, God,” she gasped, laughing to herself and shaking her head. “I can't stand it. I am nothing but a ball of nerves,” she explained to her image with exaggerated movements. “Now what would the ever-prepared Gloria advise?” Nadine leaned closer to her image in the mirror before she began to mimic her friend. “Just chill, girlfriend,” she said, then laughed nervously.

Gloria. The only real friend she ever had. Nadine wrapped both arms around the towels and held them close to her chest, placing her chin on top of them. I wonder what she is up to, she thought. I am sure she is the life of the party, picnic, community meeting, or wherever she may be, and out-dressing everyone at each event. But of course if things did get just the slightest bit dull, Nadine could see Gloria “throwing a little party,” and inviting everybody who was anybody in Atlanta's black community. Nadine smiled at the familiar images.

They had been such opposites at Spelman College. Gloria was the socialite originally from Atlanta, and she was the shy introvert from a small country town. All of the young women who felt self-confident and good about themselves loved to be seen with Gloria Turner; it enhanced their clout and their image on campus. But Gloria was no snob. She was as adaptive as a chameleon and could get down with the best of them. Yes, Gloria knew what was happenin' and she knew how to call upon her cultured side, whatever best served her purpose.

Nadine knew, in the beginning, Gloria had felt sorry for her. Most coeds thought she was a Holy Roller with country-bumpkin ways. Could be kind of cute, the guys would say, but you had to look hard to see it. As they put it, it was all going to waste underneath long dresses and skirts, and wide tops. The word was: she just didn't know what to do with what she had.

But fate had thrown Nadine and Gloria together in several classes. With time, and despite their differences, they discovered they genuinely liked one another. Eventually, Gloria took Nadine under her wing and taught her all sorts of female things that Grandma Rose had felt she did not need to know. Makeup. The colors that best suited her, and the kinds of clothes that complemented her curvy frame. She also picked up some tidbits about socializing on the way. But Nadine had never found any real use for her friend's lessons. So, she stored them away in her mind, as she stored away the beautiful lingerie she felt compelled to buy. Finding comfort in the knowledge that they were there, but never daring to wear them.

The last time Nadine had seen Gloria was at their college graduation, three years ago. They promised to always write or call, and for a while they did. Meanwhile Nadine furthered her education at the Brooks Art Institute in Memphis while teaching part-time in an optional school for exceptional students. Whenever she saw a very smartly dressed woman with class to match, she thought of her friend, and even though she admired such things, she felt they had no place in her life.

Gloria's letters were the highlight of those years. Filled with events and people that Nadine could only dream about, written from cities and countries she had only read or heard of. The last letter she received said Gloria was embarking on a trip to India, and she'd be hearing from her soon. But soon ended up being a year, and it was only a couple of months ago that she received a short note, nothing like the letters of old.

Nadine walked over to one of the long counters lining the walls of the room, put down the towels, removed her contact lenses, and placed them in the case. She noticed shampoo and body oils were neatly placed on one side of the marble slate, while bottles of varying scents huddled together in the center. Another huge mirror in a sculpted, painted frame hung above it, while stools crowned with ample cushions were spaced out below.

Nadine's attention was drawn to a spacious opening that led further into the interior of the unusually shaped bathroom. It grew darker as she progressed. Catherine had said she had lit all the lamps, so Nadine assumed one of the lamps had gone out on its own. She hurried out to get the matches Catherine had provided. Upon her return, she stepped inside the dark area. The wall felt finely textured as she rubbed her hand along the surface, feeling for the candle-like lamp that she assumed would be there.

“Ah, here it is,” she announced, striking the match and placing the flame against the used wick. Amazingly, an impressive sculpture of Poseidon sprang into view between clouds of steam. The massive object dominated the huge room with his furling beard and poised three-pronged spear. His scaly tail divided a mammoth sunken tub. Nadine could hardly believe her eyes. Had she lived a thousand years, never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined such a sight inside someone's home, let alone their bath!

The flame from the lamp created many foreboding shadows, and the sea god's icy stare did not help matters much as Nadine looked warily at the imposing, powerful figure.

“My, aren't we fancy.” She spoke aloud, finding comfort in her own voice. “Well, I tell ya. I've never undressed in front of a man before,” she professed teasingly. “So if you'll just close those big eyes of yours, I'd be awfully obliged.” She mimicked the Southern belles she'd heard so much about as a child.

Nadine began to untie the belt around her waist. Just as she had almost completed her task, she heard a husky, masculine voice coming from Poseidon's direction.

“I would love to see what is underneath that robe, but I do not know if you are ready to show it.”

Chapter
4

Nadine stared with disbelief at the magnificent statue.

“I can tell from the conversation you have been having with yourself,” the silky voice continued, “you probably believe this statue is the one who is talking. I hate to disappoint you and tell you it is not so.” There was ill-concealed mirth beneath the words.

Instinctively, Nadine grabbed the folds of the partially open robe around her. She stood there at a loss for words. The sound of parting water followed as Nadine watched a faint figure emerge from behind the sea god's tail. His movements were inappropriately calm, considering the circumstances. Slowly, the shadowy figure took on a more distinct shape as he progressed toward the front of the marble structure.