East of Orleans (40 page)

“I’m not sure,” cried Jacqueline. “But I’m pretty sure by Jules.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. If you want this baby, you cannot take this stuff. Do you understand what you could do to your baby?” Isabella said in a horrified voice. “Promise me, you will never touch this stuff again. Promise me!” screamed Isabella. “If you don’t care about yourself, think about Patrick.”

At that moment, Kate and Jesse entered the room “What about Patrick?” said Kate as she walked toward Isabella and Jacqueline. “Does this have to do with you girls being in debt with the cards?”

Isabella took a deep breath before speaking. “Jacqueline is going to have a baby and we have to find a safe place for her. I overheard Jules tell Hoyt to get Jacqueline out of her house and I’m afraid for her.”

Jesse’s mouth opened wide, he shook his head. Kate went to Jacqueline. “I’ll help you dear, don’t worry. I know of a place you can go to and be safe there.”

“Jules or Hoyt will find me,—” said Jacqueline in despair.

“No, no one will know and if they find out, they won’t be able to take you from there.” Kate removed her shawl and wrapped it tightly around Jacqueline’s shoulders. Isabella combed and arranged Jacqueline’s hair with hairpins. She took an electric blue taffeta dress out of a French armoire and threw it over Jacqueline’s head, helping her dress. Isabella buttoned Jacqueline’s chemise and the multitude of pearl buttons that closed the back of the dress. She grabbed an oval-shaped straw hat edged with pink cherry blossoms and tied the hat on the side of Jacqueline’s face the large blue bow.

Kate noticed how low the dress was cut, exposing much of Jacqueline’s bosom. With a hat pin in one hand and adjusting the dress with the other, Kate moved around tending to Jacqueline’s dress like a prim and proper mother.

“We got to hurry,” said Jesse, talking to the ceiling.

Isabella nodded and glanced out the window. The thunder had stopped, but the weather was chilled and murky. As the three women pulled their skirts up and went through the iron gate, Jacqueline began to cry. “I’m not going.”

“You have to go, there ain’t no other choice,” said Isabella.

“What if he takes my house, where will I go then?” asked Jacqueline.

“That ain’t gonna happen,” Isabella said as she patted Jacqueline’s face with her hand. Jacqueline closed her eyes and tears ran out. Isabella took Jacqueline’s hands in hers. “I promise you on my daddy’s grave that I won’t let Jules take your house. Just trust me, tell me that you trust me.”

Jacqueline opened her eyes and smiled. Isabella threw her arms around Jacqueline’s neck and said in a whisper, “I am your friend, I will not betray you. Do you believe me?” Jacqueline nodded and wiped the tears from her face. “Good,” said Isabella. “Now let’s hurry.”

The four of them rode in silence down the dimly lit tabby street. Jacqueline whispered to Isabella, “Will you visit me?”

“I promise,” said Isabella, squeezing Jacqueline’s hand. Isabella looked out the carriage and saw a small mulatto woman run up the street. It was Poppy, Jacqueline’s neighbor’s maid. Isabella wondered where she was going in such a hurry.

Poppy glanced up at Jesse and waved as she darted out in the street in front of him. “I wonder where she’s off to like a bullet,” said Jesse. Isabella looked at him and then turned away.

As she rode to her fate, Jacqueline crossed her arms and watched the carriage pass
St. John
the Baptist cathedral, and then the carriage turned toward the convent on
Liberty Street
. When the carriage arrived in front of the convent, Kate advised Jesse to park in the alley. Jesse gave her a puzzled look. “You sure this is where we need to be?”

“I’m sure,” said Kate.

Jesse got out and helped Kate to the ground. Jacqueline started to climb down from the carriage when Isabella said, “Wait.” Isabella removed the small gold cross necklace from around her neck and fastened it on Jacqueline. “This belonged to a woman of remarkable strength; I want you to have it.”

The three of them watched Kate approach two sisters at the door of the convent. The sisters shook their heads and looked at the new arrivals. They seemed to understand what Kate was saying. Kate turned and motioned for Jacqueline, Isabella and Jesse. The three hurried up to the door of the convent where the two sisters ushered them inside. There, a tall, stately woman who stared at them with understanding eyes and a warm smile met them. A short heavy-set sister approached the tall nun who was the mother superior. The sister said a few words to the Mother and seemed to protest, but then she picked up Jacqueline’s bag and disappeared down a long dark hall. Kate took Jacqueline’s hand, said a prayer, then kissed Jacqueline and turned to leave. Jesse ushered Kate out the door of the convent as Isabella stood, looking out a rose stained glass window with tears in her eyes. She heard the brushing sound of Jacqueline’s skirts and turned to face her. “I feel like a prisoner,” whispered Jacqueline.

“Here, you will be freer than you’ve ever been,” said Isabella. “I’ll be back,” Both Isabella and Jacqueline broke down and cried, and then Isabella ran out the convent door and into the waiting carriage.

Isabella gazed at Jules with hate in her eyes. “I would change everything if I could, but I can’t. Why did you leave?” asked Jules.

“I went to warn Jacqueline. I heard you tell Hoyt to get her out of the house on Oglethorpe. I couldn’t let you do that to her.”

“I would never have done that if the two of you hadn’t burned my fields. Why’d y’all do a crazy thing like that?”

“It wasn’t y’all Jules, it was me, me and only me. Not Jesse, not Jacqueline, just me. I did it because I was mad. I was sick and tired of seeing you profit and those poor sharecroppers practically starving. It ain’t right, Jules!”

“It wasn’t like you think honey, but no, you’re right, it ain’t right.”

“You give a man like Hoyt free rein over the sharecroppers knowing very well what he is capable of. You’ve got a twelve-year-old girl out there pregnant and I guarantee you Hoyt is the daddy of that baby. And not by that young girl’s choice either,” Isabella spat the words out.

“He didn’t hurt her, did he?” asked Jules.

“Who?” said Isabella.

“Hoyt, he didn’t harm Jacqueline, did he?”

“I don’t know. By the time we got there, she was pretty shook up. Hoyt was just leaving.” said Isabella, as she glared at Jules then started to walk inside the house.

“Maybe I should go check on her,” said Jules.

“No need, she ain’t there,” said Isabella.

“When will she be back?”

“Maybe never, Jules, but I promised her that I wouldn’t let you sell her house. I swore on my daddy’s grave. And that’s one promise I don’t intend to break.”

“You won’t have to,” Jules said. “She didn’t tell you where she was going?”

“It don’t matter. All I know is that she’s scared of Hoyt and she felt it best that she leave.”

Jules squinted his eyes. “He threatened her, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, he threatened her. What’d you expect?”

“I’ll settle with him shortly,” said Jules, tightening the muscles in his face. He lit a cigar and turned to walk away.

Isabella stopped him. “Jules, there’s plenty of rooms in this house. Pick one; I don’t want you in my room ever again.” said Isabella.

If that’s what you want,” Jules said as he kept walking.

Jesse came in and Isabella walked up to him and whispered, “Don’t worry, I answered his questions. I just told him that when we got to Jacqueline’s that Hoyt had just left and that he threatened Jacqueline. He knows Jacqueline left, but he doesn’t know where she went.”

“Did you mention Jacob?” asked Jesse in a low voice.

“No, we must never,” said Isabella.

“Does he know dat Jacqueline is pregnant?” Jesse asked.

“No, and he can’t know.”

The sun was setting, the storms had stopped and the sky the color of a blood orange. “I’m tired, I’m going to eat something and go to bed. If Jules starts to ask you questions, answer as few of them as possible. Just say you don’t know, you ain’t sure, or you don’t remember,” said Isabella.

“Where’s my daddy!” Elora screamed as Isabella walked toward the kitchen.

“He’s out on the porch, baby,” Isabella answered.

Isabella started to fix some scrambled eggs and toast when she felt someone staring at her. She looked up to see Priscilla. “What you looking at?” said Isabella, her voice cold and irritated.

“It’s a sad thing when a child love her daddy like dat young-un do and de mama don’t pay neither one of dem no attention,” said Priscilla.

Isabella pulled a ladderback chair over to the table. “For your information, if it’s any of your business, which it ain’t, I pay Elora plenty of attention. And as for Jules, he gets exactly what he deserves. What’s any of this got to do with you?”

Priscilla ignored Isabella and started to hang the wash on a clothesline off the kitchen. Isabella rolled her eyes, ate her food, and then went to bed.

Months passed Patrick O’Brien and Jules McGinnis both were at the end of their rope. There had been no word about the whereabouts of Jacqueline Rousseau, and to make matters worse, Jacob Hartwell had been reported missing by his family. Jules was not sure what Jacqueline’s disappearance had to do with Jacob missing, but he knew there was a connection. Patrick felt the same. And if that wasn’t bad enough, Hoyt, had been found a couple of months earlier beaten, left for dead and then thrown into the swamp for the alligators to dine on. The news of Hoyt’s death prompted Isabella to say to herself, “At last justice has been done.”

Locals and Negroes spent a lot of time around
Forsyth
Park
, talking about what had happened to the woman who had lived in the mansion on Oglethorpe and the disappearance of Jules McGinnis’s nephew. There were also whispers about Hoyt’s barbaric fate. The truth was everybody knew the three were connected; they just were not certain how.

Patrick noticed that his mother would leave, stay away for several hours, and that neither he nor his father knew where she had been. When Patrick saw Kate often leave with Isabella, he grew suspicious. He had cornered Isabella on numerous occasions, questioning her about Jacqueline’s whereabouts, but her answer was always the same; that she knew nothing and then she would hurry on her way. A week later, Patrick watched for Isabella to come for his mother. As always, they claimed that they were going to garden club meetings, appropriate places, but Patrick had his doubts. He decided to follow them.

Isabella found Patrick sitting on the front porch when she arrived at Kate’s. She stared down at his hands—he was holding a book. Patrick held the book up. “The Scarlet Letter,” said Patrick.

“I’ve read it; it’s a good choice,” replied Isabella.

“Fiction is nothing more than someone’s account of their life, wouldn’t you say, Isabella?”

“That could be; sure seems that way sometimes.”

When Kate came out of the house, it was obvious that Patrick was acting odd. She walked over, kissed her son on the cheek and said, “I left supper for you and your father. I should be back by early evening.”