Jenny Plague-Bringer: (Jenny Pox #4) (22 page)

“Does that mean I die?” Seth said.

“He takes you as a prisoner.”

“What about Jenny?” he asked.

Mariella closed her eyes.  A pained look crossed her face. “I can’t see her future
any better than my own.  It’s like a dark cloud.  All I can think is that her power
might block mine in some way.  I certainly can’t touch her.”

“That’s why I always have enemies among our kind,” Jenny said. “Most of them can’t
even try to control me or use their powers against me, or they’ll die from the pox.”

“Jenny can’t be tamed,” Seth said. “She’s like a wild animal.”

“That’s right,” Jenny said.

“A badger, maybe,” Seth said, and Jenny gave him a light punch in the arm.  Seth pretended
to cringe in pain.  He asked Mariella, “So, I get taken prisoner.  How?  Why?  For
how long?”

Mariella shook her head, her eyes still closed, her teeth grinding together. “I...
can’t
.  It’s never been so difficult, not with normal people.”

“We’re definitely not normal,” Jenny said.

“I can see the man dragging Seth away...but everything’s hidden behind a scramble
of colors and a cloud of sleepy fog.”

“What’s ‘sleepy fog’?” Seth asked.

“I don’t know, that’s just what I feel!” Mariella opened her eyes. “I must be involved,
that’s why I can’t see much.  Or Jenny is involved and I can’t see her future.  Or
both.”

“Involved how?  You’re helping him kidnap me?”

“No, of course not!  I wouldn’t,” Mariella told him. “All I know is that you become
his prisoner.”

“Is that all you see?” Jenny asked.

“Maybe I’ll see more later.  The sooner something will happen, the clearer I see it. 
So we must have some time.”

“How much time?” Seth asked. “Should I barricade the apartment or what?”

“A few weeks, a couple of months, maybe.” Mariella bit her lip. “I’m sorry!  I’m usually
much better at this.  Most people, I get more information than I ever wanted...and
most people don’t listen, either, even when I tell them they’re moving toward disaster. 
And they never come back and admit I was right, either.”

“No one believes you?” Jenny asked.

“Usually not.  A few times, people have listened to me and changed their futures...but
then they tell me I was worried about nothing, because they avoided whatever danger
I saw.” Mariella looked at Jenny’s hands. “It must have been difficult for you, growing
up.  Avoiding the touch of everyone.  It makes my problems look silly, people ignoring
me and not believing me.”

“I managed,” Jenny said. “You try not to kill anyone, but sometimes you can’t help
it.”

Mariella laughed, but there was a glint of fear in her eyes.

“I’m starting to think I might know who this man is, from the way you described him,”
Jenny told her. “I think I’m starting to figure out who you are, too.”

“I’ve been honest with you,” Mariella said, and then laughed a little. “Too honest,
maybe.”

“I don’t mean in this life, but in our last one.  You and him were both there...the
oracle and the seer.”

“Who?” Seth asked.

“That’s what we’ve called them in the past,” Jenny said. “She’s the oracle.  Her opposite
is the seer, a very nasty soul.”

“Are you talking about reincarnation?” Mariella asked. “I thought you didn’t believe
in that.”

“I can remember hundreds of lifetimes,” Jenny said. “I mean, not all at once, obviously. 
And the last few are the most difficult for me, because the person who opened my mind
to my memories...Alexander...he didn’t want me to remember those lives.  So he blocked
them, or kept me from opening them, or something.  I’m working on unraveling the last
one, because I think it matters now.”

“I knew it!” Mariella said. “I’ve always felt that I’ve lived before.”

“We all have,” Jenny told her. “And you were part of the last one, and so was your
opposite.  That’s why it’s important we figure out what happened.  It’s the only way
to figure out what the seer wants and how we can stop him.”

Seth was raising his eyebrows at her, clearly surprised she’d told Mariella so much. 
Jenny shrugged.  Let Seth judge for himself when he learned more about who she was,
Jenny thought.  Mariella’s past life didn’t necessarily tell Jenny who Mariella was
in this lifetime, and it was always best to be suspicious.

“Can you tell me about my past lives?” Mariella asked.

“I will, if you feel like listening.  The duck’s going to roast another hour.  I’ll
have to catch you up on the story so far...and this calls for another glass of wine,
so let’s pretend I’m drinking one.”  She slid her glass across the table to Seth,
who drank it down like it was Jell-o shot. “You might as well open the next bottle,
Seth.”

He smiled and walked to the kitchen.  Jenny’s plan was to get Seth completely sloshed
before Mariella left.  Maybe she could put off the big pregnancy talk one more day.

“The last time we saw each other, it was the Great Depression,” Jenny said, “1933.”

Just before they reached Charleston, Barrett took over the driving from Juliana, explaining
that city driving was a little more complicated, and there were rules to learn.

The city of Charleston was full of life, with street vendors hawking everything from
newspapers to fresh shrimp, trolleys crawling through the crowded downtown, music
playing from open windows and balconies.  It was a far more beautiful place than Juliana
had expected, full of masterfully worked wrought-iron gates and fences, brick walls
and high columns.  Mr. Barrett must have brought in craftsmen from Charleston to build
his mansion, Juliana thought, because the style was the same.

Massive old trees lined the streets, live oak and magnolias dripping with Spanish
moss and wisteria.  The towers of churches and cathedrals reached toward the sky on
almost every block.

“I love this city,” Juliana said. “You wouldn’t even know there was a Depression at
all.”

“You can thank the United States Navy for that,” Barrett told her. “They’ve expanded
the shipyards and they’re turning out battleships like clockwork.  Good for jobs,
good for business.  I was even lucky enough to invest in some of the companies that
provision the shipyard.  Really helps us weather the economy.”

“Battleships?” Juliana asked. “Is another war coming?”

“The more battleships you have, the easier it is to keep the peace.” Barrett honked
at a slow, horse-drawn wagon loaded with vegetables blocking up the street ahead of
them. “Remember, we have two big oceans to control, the Atlantic and the Pacific. 
That takes a lot of ships, and Charleston is proud to provide them.”

They finally reached a four-story, colonial-style office building a few blocks from
the wharf, its bricks painted a cheerful blue color, its windows trimmed in gold and
white.  The artfully carved and painted wooden sign by the front door listed several
businesses, one of which was “Barrett Mercantiles.”

“This is where I have to be dull and go through paperwork,” Barrett told them as he
got out of the car.  He circled around to open Juliana’s door, but Sebastian climbed
out first and beat him to it, holding her hand as she stepped down from the running
board.  Barrett gave Sebastian a smirk, then handed Juliana a pair of twenty-dollar
bills. “The city is yours.  Buy clothes, a suitcase, whatever you want for your journey.”

“Do we need to buy food for the trip?” Juliana asked.

“Of course not.  You’ll eat in the dining saloon, all expenses charged to my account,”
Barrett said. “You may want books and magazines.  It’s nine days at sea before you
arrive in Hamburg.  Meet me back here at sunset.” He tipped his hat and walked up
the brick steps into the building.

Juliana and Sebastian smiled at each other.  Such a fantastic city to enjoy, and such
an amazing amount of money with which to do it.

They explored the streets, shaded by the old trees and dappled with summer sunlight. 
Juliana bought herself new gloves and two dresses at a boutique, including a chiffon
evening gown with flapper-style beadwork on the long sleeves—she felt like she should
have something nice if she was traveling to Europe.  She picked out a simple white
collared shirt and trousers for Sebastian, after he vetoed a couple of fancier embroidered
options. 

They explored the city market, a few blocks of long, low sheds full of vendor stalls,
the area marked by “Market Hall,” a building that looked like an ancient Greek temple,
complete with columns and a sculpted triangular pediment.  Juliana was reminded of
the impressive courthouse in Fallen Oak.  Many of the merchants were black men and
women in colorful clothing, who spoke among themselves in some sort of African language
she couldn’t begin to understand.

They ate a gumbo of shrimp, sausage, corn, and potatoes, served by a woman who called
it “Beaufort Boil.” It was so thick their spoons could almost stand up in the broth.

They went to a picture show, where Juliana hoped to see the popular new Mae West film,
but the theater was showing a monster movie called
King Kong
instead, which Sebastian was pleased to discover.  They held hands as the lights
went down in the smoky theater.  Juliana was impressed by the movie’s special effects,
but she spent most of the time kissing and caressing Sebastian in the dark.

At sunset, they met up with Mr. Barrett, who took them for supper at a tavern by the
docks.  It was a dingy, dark, and loud place and served some of the tastiest food
Juliana had ever eaten—shrimp with a kind of barbecue sauce, crabs, and fried balls
of cornmeal called “hushpuppies.”  Barrett talked a lot about the history of Charleston
and South Carolina, but said little about Juliana and Sebastian’s coming voyage.

Afterward, they went to a speakeasy where a live band played bouncing, brassy jazz
that made Juliana want to dance.  The place served Caribbean rum and didn’t bother
being discreet about it, probably because the Prohibition laws were crumbling—beer
was already legal again, and there was talk that full repeal of the Eighteenth Amendment
was on the way.

From their wobbly table in the back, Juliana watched the city girls dancing on the
crowded floor, dressed in their extravagant feather hats and fringed dresses that
left much of their legs bare.  They drank, smoked, and flirted freely with the boys,
and Juliana thought they were quite glamorous.

“Come and dance,” Barrett said after a few minutes, reaching for Juliana’s gloved
hand.

“I can’t!  There are too many people,” Juliana told him. “It’s dangerous for you,
too, Mr. Barrett.”

“I very much prefer that you call me ‘Jonathan,’” he told her, not for the first time.

“As you like,” Juliana said.

“I would
like
for you to dance.  You won’t see great jazz bands like this in Europe.  Enjoy it
while it lasts.”  Barrett stood and held out his hand expectantly.

“I don’t know...” Juliana looked at the crowded floor, then at Sebastian.  He gave
a shrug and raised his glass, acting indifferent.

“Come along, before the night grows old and dies,” Barrett said.  He took her arm
just above the elbow, protected by her long-sleeved dress, which already had her hot
and sweating in the crowded nightspot. 

Juliana rose from her chair and swayed under the influence of dark rum as he led her
to the dance floor.  She did her best to imitate the swinging arms and wide steps
of the other girls.  Barrett himself was a skilled dancer and led her as best as he
could.  She laughed at herself but kept moving, unable to resist the fast-paced siren
song of the nine-piece brass band and the beautiful dark-skinned lady who sang in
front of them.  The tunes were light, all about dancing and flirting, though they
grew more ribald as the night flowed on.

While she was lost on the crowded dance floor with him and out of Sebastian’s sight,
Barrett stole a kiss from her, in spite of the danger, and her demon plague did not
hurt him at all.  Juliana would have slapped him, but she was too stunned at finding
him immune to her power.

Much later, the three of them staggered out into the street, the stiff breeze off
the ocean very welcome after the thick, smoky air of the speakeasy.  They clambered
into Barrett’s car, and he swerved wildly as he drove them away.  Juliana closed her
eyes, enjoying the feeling of the wind.

Barrett’s apartment in Charleston was the top floor of a regal old Tudor mansion with
a walled courtyard full of flowers and wrought-iron staircases.  He swayed heavily
as he led them up to an apartment furnished with dark wood, the tall windows hung
with thick curtains, creating the same tomb-like feeling as his house in Fallen Oak. 
Juliana had her own guest bedroom, while Sebastian slept on a long leather couch in
the sitting room, which had to be more comfortable than his cot in the roustie tent.

Juliana lay awake for nearly half an hour, staring at the moonlit door to her room. 
She’d left it unlocked, in the drunken hope that Sebastian would be bold and impertinent
enough to visit her in the night.  He never came, and she eventually passed out.