Under the Cajun Moon (32 page)

He was just chatting, unaware of the terrifying effect his words had on me.

“And you really did catch your first gator when you were only seven?” I asked, trying to distract myself.

“
Oui
, thanks to
Grandmere
Minette. She wanted to make stew but we were all out of chickens, so we went for a walk in the woods instead, saying we would cook up the first thing we found. I guess we were both a little surprised when the first thing we found was an alligator, caught up in one of our traps. By the time my
grandpere
got home that night, there was alligator stew on the table and a new pair of boots waiting for him by the door.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Aren’t you exaggerating just a little?”

“Well, now, there’s always that chance. Exaggerating is one of those things comes pretty natural to Cajuns, so sometimes it’s kind of hard to know.”

As Travis worked, he told me about more of the creatures of the swamps, the nutria and frogs and snakes and fish—not to mention things like wild boars and bobcats and even bears. Of course, that only served to scare me more, especially when a bat swooped down at the water right beside the boat, causing me to yelp.

“You know,” Travis said suddenly, turning his attention from the motor to me, “if you’re scared you can move a little closer.”

I did as he suggested, carefully sliding from the front slat to the middle one. Turning around, my knees just fit against the side of Travis’ leg. He was right. Being there next to him made me feel a lot safer. He went back
to work on the engine, and as he did, I realized that sitting so close to him made my heart pound in a different way altogether. Judging by the way he kept looking back at me, I had a feeling Travis was feeling the heat between us too. Finally, he closed something on the top of the motor, turned to me again, put a hand on my arm, and asked if I was okay.

“I think so.”

“Well, good. Because it just struck me that I might have to keep you
very
close, purely in the name of safety.”

The tone of his voice and the way he was suddenly looking at me let me know that safety wasn’t really what he was talking about at all.

“Oh?” I asked softly. “So if some big, nasty creature showed up right about now, we’d have to get even closer?”

He didn’t answer my question at first but instead just looked deeply into my eyes. From the tilt of his chin, I could tell he wanted to kiss me. I leaned slightly forward and tilted my head the other way, suddenly wishing he would do just that.

“Hey,
cher
? I don’t want to move in to anything you’re not prepared for,” Travis said softly, the heat of his lips very near mine.

“I think I’ve been preparing for this my whole life,” I whispered.

“No, I mean we’re drifting again,” Travis said, suddenly pulling back. “Grab the paddle,
cher
, or we’re going to end up under the trees.”

I spun around, mortified to see that the heavy, ominous branches were now only inches away. This time, Travis and I both grabbed a paddle, and worked our way furiously back out in the middle. As we did, I felt like biting my tongue, taking back that last, idiotic comment I had made in the heat of the moment.
I’ve been preparing for this my whole life?
Had I really just said that?

“What are we going to do, Travis? We obviously can’t stay out here all night, paddling like a pair of propellers every time we near the bank.”

“No need to,” he replied, sliding his paddle back onto the floor of our little boat. “I fixed the motor. Did I forget to tell you?”

With a wink and a grin, he reached back and pulled the cord, causing the engine to spring to life.

F
RANCE, 1719
J
ACQUES

Something was going on, something that stirred and frenzied the patients like animals in the forest before a fire. Jacques could sense it as soon as he awoke. Up and down the halls, everyone seemed to be working themselves into a fevered pitch. The patient noises had frightened him at first, but over the last month he had grown to identify most of them, the screamers and the criers and the moaners and the babblers. Though Jacques was clearly sane, he had been placed in the building reserved for lunatics. According to a conversation he’d overheard between the two Brothers who performed the bloodletting each week, Jacques was better off in here anyway, as the other buildings housed criminals and the severely ill. Eventually, Jacques had learned to sleep through the noise. Not this morning, though. This morning it sounded as though every single one of the men on this floor was at his most vocal.

Jacques, on the other hand, was one of the silent ones. It wasn’t that he didn’t have anything to say, it was that there simply wasn’t anyone worth talking to. The people here didn’t listen, and the Brothers and maids and servants didn’t believe him. The only choice he had was to keep his mouth shut and bide his time and wait for his case to be handled in its turn. He could only hope that he hadn’t been forgotten. Jacques knew that it wasn’t
uncommon for a man to be locked away in Charenton for many years without even so much as a trial. Jacques didn’t get much communication from the outside, but he knew two things: Papa was surely dead by now, and Angelique had been lost to him forever.

Given that, Jacques had come to the point where he didn’t really care how things turned out. He wanted to be free, yes, and he wanted to clear his name. But as neither event seemed likely to happen soon, if ever, he spent most of his time simply trying to survive, one sane man in the midst of madness.

“Key man! Key man!” one of the screamers yelled from the doorway. That guy seemed to get worked up every time anyone opened or closed the massive iron doors at each end of the long hall. This time, however, it sounded as though he wasn’t the only one yelling about it. Soon the phrase “key man” was being called out, up and down, in both directions.

Again, Jacques had an odd sense that something big was going on. He got up from his narrow cot and went to the doorway, which was packed with people. Pushing his way through, he finally got a glimpse of what the fuss was all about: The iron door at one end of the hall was propped open, something Jacques hadn’t seen happen since he had arrived.

“What’s going on?” he asked those around him, but of course he received no intelligible replies.

Pushing his way through the crowded hall, he tried to find someone sporting the telltale white garb of the servants, but he couldn’t find any.

When Jacques reached the open doorway, he realized that though all of the patients were clustering there, none of them were venturing past, even though there was nothing to stop them. They simply hovered at the edge of freedom and peered beyond, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever might be on the other side.

Jacques didn’t want to cause trouble or make waves, but the whole thing was ridiculous. Had the door come loose on its own? Had someone simply unlocked it and left it open? Jacques didn’t know what was going on, but he kept thinking of Peter in the Bible, Peter who had been locked in a prison and then miraculously set free. Miracle or not, Jacques decided to explore.

Emerging from the crowd, he stepped through the open doorway and ventured several feet into the large area at the top of the stairs. As he did, the patients went nuts, their already frenzied sounds and motions exploding with renewed vigor. The rooms on his floor had windows but they were all set high, far too high to see out of. Here, however, Jacques saw that there was a normal window, one that looked down on the grassy knoll outside.

Moving to that window now, Jacques would have been happy simply to drink up the sight of the trees, the autumn colors, the sunshine. But there was more to see out there, much more. Something indeed was going on. The lawn was covered with people.

Pressing his face to the glass, Jacques tried to understand what was happening. There was order in the chaos, though he couldn’t quite figure out the purpose of it all. From the looks of things, men and women were being paired together, tied at the wrists, and moved into some sort of line. Already, about twenty couples had been hooked together that way, with more in the making.

“Here’s one,” a Brother suddenly called from the stairs.

He was just coming up and had caught Jacques looking out of the window.

“I didn’t do anything. The door was already open,” Jacques said, backing up, afraid that he might be penalized for his infraction.

“I know, son. I’m the one who opened it.”

The man stood there at the doorway, cupped his hands around his mouth, and began calling out instructions at the top of his voice to the frenzied crowd inside. Jacques hovered nearby, trying to understand how this could be happening.

“Attention, everyone! Today you have the opportunity to change your life. Another ship is leaving for the Isle d’Orleans, and it needs passengers willing to go there and help settle the new colony. Anyone who is of sound mind and willing to go to the New World will be released to do so. You must be unmarried and healthy. If you choose to accept this offer, please proceed in an orderly fashion down the stairs. You will be directed where to go once you get there. If you choose not to accept this offer, please remain…”

Jacques didn’t even wait for the man to finish.

As fast as he could, he ran down the stairs and then eagerly continued on outside, to the place he was directed. There were plenty of servants out here, keeping everyone in line, making sure no one could run off. Blinking in the sun, Jacques got behind a short fellow in the same muslin pajamas they all wore, a man who kept giggling and rubbing his fingers together. What a joke, that the offer required one to be of sound mind. Who were they kidding?

Still, Jacques couldn’t believe this was happening. Could it really be possible? Had he just been given his ticket out?

As much as he loved Paris, life there had been ruined for him the day everything went wrong. He had heard terrible things about the Isle d’Orleans, but surely living in a colony in the midst of a swamp could be no worse than trying to survive in an insane asylum. Better yet, if Jacques had his freedom, he would be in a position to right the wrongs that had been done to him. Even from half a world away, he had a better chance of clearing his name from over there than he did from inside here.

The ship carrying the statuettes had set sail for the New World more than a month ago. Jacques had no idea whether or not John Law and his minions had been able to switch them out for the gilded ones before sailing, but either way he planned to follow the statuettes wherever the pursuit led him.

The line was moving forward, and soon it was Jacques’ turn at the front. He didn’t know why, but a woman was grabbed from a different line and tied to him at the wrist.

She wasn’t wearing the muslin pajamas of the asylum but instead the gray smock of the adjoining prison. They didn’t speak at first, but after an hour of being bound together in line, Jacques finally asked her name.

“Lily,” she said in a low, flat voice.

“I’m Jacques.”

Lily didn’t seem very healthy, and several times Jacques thought she might pass out in the heat of the warm autumn sun.

With his help, though, she managed to stay erect, and eventually they were herded onto a flat-bottomed rowboat with about fifteen other bound couples. From the talk on board, this boat would take them down the Seine
all the way to La Havre, where they would then board the ship that was to bring them to the New World.

Jacques drank in the views like a man rescued from the desert. As they sailed past the vivid oranges and yellows and browns of autumn, he couldn’t help but think that in the New World he wouldn’t mind it even if he had to sleep out in the open air. Anything was better than the feral, fetid existence he’d been living in the asylum.

As they neared Paris, he spotted two other, similar passenger boats waiting there and tied up to the dock. They tied his boat up as well, though Jacques wasn’t sure why as there were soldiers there with guns pointed at them, making sure no one got up to leave. They all sat there mostly in quiet until a fourth ship joined them from behind. Once it had been secured, a priest came out to the landing, opened his Bible and began speaking in Latin.