Lies Agreed Upon (38 page)

Here Louise paused. “Do you know da story of how Noah ended up a Cabirac?” she asked.

“I heard that Noah was found abandoned in a boat, floating in the bayou like Moses,” answered Tess and started when the old woman fell into a paroxysm of coughing. Tess was alarmed until she realized Louise was trying to contain mirth not a cigarette-induced fit.

“Dat’s a real good story,” she gasped out. “It woulda been even better if he’d growed up an’ led us to da promised lan
d. Now, here’s what happened for real. My papa took his truck an’ got down at da general store one day to make groceries. Yeah, an’ maybe he stepped in back for some moonshine wid his frien’s. When he fin’lly come out, he t’rowed his groceries in backa his truck an’ hopped in to go home. Den he sees a wad of blanket on da passenger seat. The bundle’s movin’ an’ whimperin’, so he t’inks maybe somebody dumped a puppy in his truck. But it’s dis itty-bitty newborn boy.

“Well, nobody can guess where dat baby come from, an’ da police
let my papa take him home temp’rary till it’s sorted out. He put da baby in a box an’ set dat box on da kitchen table like it was jus’ groceries. My mama’s busy at da stove when papa called out, ‘Come look at dis pooldoo I got. If you don’t want him, I’ll give him to Nina Thomas down da road.’ Pooldoo means a water bird, but it’s a pet name for a child, too. Not even turnin’, my mama said, ‘What you brung in dis house stays in dis house. I'll take care of it once da rice is cooked.’ My papa grinned an’ said, ‘Well, I t’ink he’s not gonna wait dat long.’ And sure enough, dat baby started to wail. Mama run over, cussin’ papa for his teasin’. She lifted up dat baby an’ rocked an’ cooed till he settled down. Papa told her dey jus’ got him temp’rary till da police find his parents or find a place for him.

“
But my mama looked at him real hard an’ said, ‘I mean what I say. What you brung in dis house gonna stay in dis house. Dis baby’s a gift from God, an’ I'm keepin’ him. I’m gonna name him Noah.’ And den dey adopted Noah to keep him from da orphan house. A bit later, I come along in da natural way.”

“Did your parents ever find out about Noah’s real parents?” asked Tess.

“Not till a long time after. Da only clue to Noah’s family was a gold cross on a gold chain in his blankets. It’s a pure-gold antique so my parents always figured his mama was from a good family but got herself in trouble. Now dat’s a true story,” concluded Louise.

So
Dreux’s fairy-tale story about Noah did have elements of truth, including the necklace, Tess concluded in surprise.

Louise reached into the
breast pocket of her shirt, and Tess cringed to see that she had pulled out a crushed cigarette packet and butane lighter. “I heard Noah’s real parents later funded his education and boarding at St. Paul’s in New Orleans,” Tess commented quickly, hoping to forestall the woman from lighting up. “Is that when you learned who they were?”

She su
ppressed a sigh of relief when Louise dropped the packet and lighter in the chair arm’s cup holder and proceeded to answer.

“Some bank stuff shirt drove up one day. He said he’d come on ‘behalf of a trust’ set up for Noah’s education. My parents axed who made da trust, but da bank man said it’s ‘confide
ntial.’ Mama an’ papa t’ink it gotta be Noah’s real parents. Sad part was now dey gotta tell Noah how he come to be adopted. So Noah learnt he was t’rowed out like a kitten in a sack. He learnt his blood family’s got money to send him to St. Paul’s but is too shamed to call him son in public. Mama and papa felt bad for his hurt, but dere was good in it, too, ’cause Noah was real smart an’ deserved better dan a local schoolhouse. Still it was hard on Noah to live by strangers in a strange place. Each time I saw him, he got more angry an’ restless. He said knowin’ about his real parents an’ tryin’ to fit in at St. Paul’s jus’ tore him up inside. ‘It makes me hate who I am—and who I wanna be, too,’ he told me.”

Tess
repeated her original question. “So how did you learn the identity of Noah’s parents?”

“Noah’s real mama
showed up to see him one fine day,” said Louise and smirked at Tess’s astounded expression. She paused and lifted the cigarette pack. She shook out a single cylinder and slipped it between her lips.

“Back in ’52, after
his trust fund was used up an’ Noah finished high school, he started a job at Desmond Donovan’s refinery,” she continued, talking around the unlit cigarette. “One day a woman called up an’ axed him to meet her at some restaurant in Metairie. She said she wanted to tell him about his ‘real parents.’ Well, he called us for advice, an’ we told him to go find out da trut’. So he met dis rich-lookin’ society lady in a restaurant—at a table tucked way back in a dark corner. She told him her name is Beatrice Cabrera, and she’s his mama.” Louise grinned as Tess's mouth dropped open. “Bet you didn’ expect dat, eh?”

“I can’t believe
it,” gasped Tess. “Snooty Bea? Did she say who the father was? Why was she coming forward at last?” Tess babbled.

The woman coughed and sparked her lighter with a single practiced flick of her thumb. She looked at Tess steadily through the flame. “She told Noah a story about why she give him up an’ all her tr
oubles. She begged him to keep her secret,” answered Louise with a contemptuous curl of her lip. “Could be true or not true, but here’s what Noah told me.”

Tess listened intently as Louise revealed the story of Beatrice Cabrera, n
ée Landry, as Bea had related it anxiously to her stony-faced son. She had explained to Noah that when she was just 15 years old, she had become enamored of a handsome young man of 20, who was the son of family friends. Bea Landry had been raised in pampered luxury and never denied anything she truly desired. The object of her passion was already engaged to be married, but she was a headstrong girl, as she acknowledged sadly to her son. Eventually, the young man succumbed to her determined pursuit, and the two had a short romance during the Mardi Gras season of 1933.

By her lover’s marriage date in June, Bea was four months pregnant. She begged her lover to aba
ndon his fiancée and marry her. He refused. She threatened to air her shame and his unfaithfulness to the world, but, to her shock, the young man was made of sterner stuff than she realized. Let Bea expose them both, but he would marry for love or not at all, he told her. He offered to take financial responsibility for the baby and nothing more.

Her desire
s never overrode her fear of social disapproval, and Bea kept silent. Burdened by her secret pregnancy, she dressed as a plump bridesmaid for the wedding of her lover.

It was an outdoor wedding, and Bea, ignored and miserable, was resting in the humid shade of the deserted dining tent before the ceremony. As she sat and glumly fanned her sweaty face, Bea overheard a conversation between her lover and
his father. They were standing on the other side of the canvas tent wall, out of her sight but only a few paces away. She listened as the older man lovingly awarded the young bridegroom an heirloom piece of jewelry, a gold cross on a chain, to give his bride. The young man darted into the tent and slipped the gift into the pocket of his tuxedo coat, which was draped temporarily over a chair back. He was too preoccupied to notice Bea, and, before he could don the coat, he was briefly called away by a caterer. 

Bea, driven by a sudden compulsion, dashed over, lifted the necklace from the coat pocket and slipped it into the bo
dice of her bridesmaid dress. She then exited the tent and joined the other bridesmaids. There was a hue and cry when the groom discovered the necklace was missing, but the jewelry could not be found. Bea smiled sweetly, the bride’s love token nestled securely in her bosom, as her lover married another. 

Her swelling body finally forced Bea to reveal her secret to her shocked parents. She r
efused to name the child’s father other than to admit that he was married. Before the rest of the world could guess the family’s trouble, the Landrys whisked Bea to a relative’s home north of the Manchac wetlands. The plan was to have Bea deliver the illegitimate child far from the prying eyes of society and then give the baby up for adoption. Bea was initially content with this solution. But when the teenager held her baby son in her arms, she could not bear to completely give up the infant, she claimed. Or maybe she couldn’t bear to give up her only hold on her lover, opined the cynical Louise.

Bea and newborn were bundled into a chauffeured car for the ride to an adoption agency
. At some point on the drive, she hatched a plan that would keep her child both near and distant. Between Lake Maurepas and Lake Pontchartrain, the driver made a quick stop. Next door was the general store where TinTin Cabirac was tippling with friends. The driver handed Bea a bottled cola, filled the gas tank and walked off to relieve himself. Bea wrapped the baby in a swaddling blanket and left the infant in the closest unlocked vehicle: Cabirac’s truck. At the last minute, she tucked the stolen gold cross into the infant’s blanket. She then swiftly wrapped her empty cola bottle in a bulky quilt to mimic a sleeping baby and awaited the driver’s return. The driver was grateful to see that the newborn—after a restless, squalling ride—was finally quiet, and they continued on their way to the adoption agency. No matter how much her parents later berated her, Bea would say only that the missing baby was safe “with local people.”

“How did Noah react to meeting his mother? Wasn’t she the one who anonymously paid for his years at St. Paul’s? Why did she finally make herself known to her son? What about
—”

Louise began to frown warningly at this spewing jet of questions, and Tess stopped abruptly.

“Most important t’ing you axed was what Noah felt,” answered Louise, drawing on her cigarette and exhaling a long plume of smoke into the thick, stale air. “Noah was cold as ice to her and spoke real calm. ‘You drop from da sky and t’ink all is forgiven ’cause I’m so glad to have a mama. But I got a mama who loves me. I don’t need you,’ he told her.”

“What could Bea say to that?”
asked Tess.

“Well, she swore she had loved him from da moment he
’s born, loved him so much she couldn’ bear to never see him again. She swore she’d secretly made sure he was wid good people. She claimed if he’d gone to da orphanage or a bad home, she woulda rescued him. She said she’d vowed to God she’d watch over him in secret an’ help him to a good life. Only, while he’s growin’ up in da bayou, she was lookin’ for a happy life for herself. She married Michael Cabrera, an’ she got another son. But God sent her a crippled an’ retarded son dis time. It was a hard reminder of da healthy son she’d t’rowed away an’ her broken promise to care for him. She said she was tryin’ to atone.”

“So Bea Cabrera was the anonymous donor of the educational fund for Noah, right? Why didn’t she come forward at that time?” Tess prompted.

“No, Bea Cabrera never paid for Noah’s schoolin’. She had to keep her secret from her husband. She told Noah she’d gone in secret to his real papa an’ axed him to help his son like he promised. He honored his word an’ set aside money for Noah to study and board at St. Paul’s. She only decided to tell Noah she was his mama since her husband had died in a car crash. Now she could do more for her son Noah an’ not worry about her husband findin’ out. But she still begged him to keep her secret from society. ‘I’m a widow wid a handicap child, an’ I t’row myself on your mercy,’ she said. She’s lucky her son was raised by my parents, who preached forgiveness. Noah pitied her an’ kep’ quiet.”

“But Noah didn’t get any financial help from anyone after high school,” Tess pointed out.

“Noah was proud,” smiled Louise and crushed out the stub of her cigarette slowly and intently as if she imagined the ashtray as the face of Bea Cabrera. “He told her to keep her guilt money. He was a man now, an’ he didn’ need it.” Louise sighed and leaned back.

“Did Noah ever learn the name of his real father?”

“Oh yeah, dat gold cross was da key unlocked dat mystery. You know, Noah always wore dat necklace since he learnt it was da only t’ing he got from his real parents,” remarked Louise and barked a phlegmy cough.

“In
her old age, Bea used to always wear a distinctive gold cross on a chain. I wonder if it was a substitute or reminder of the cross she gave infant Noah,” mused Tess.

“Dat was no substitute.
It was Noah’s cross. When Noah died, Bea Cabrera come to me in a real state. You know, she had a cold kinda beauty, skin smooth as marble an’ perfect lips an’ proud eyes. It was scary to see tears on her face, like a statue cryin’. She begged me for dat gold necklace to recall her ‘son.’ I don’t know why I give it to her ’cept my grief made it hard to look at. It reminded me of how secrets ate at Noah an’ swallowed him up at da end. Later I was sorry I did it.”

“Oh,” gasped Tess, “I just remembered a story from Phil Dreux, you know, the high-school friend of Noah. Bea threw a
Sweet 16 party for her niece, and Desmond Donovan brought Noah along as a gate-crasher. Bea got upset after being introduced to Noah and asked my grandfather Guy to escort him out. Bea implied she didn’t think Noah was a suitable dance partner for the young ladies, but I think she really was horrified to see her lovechild in her home. Her husband was still alive then, and she must have been desperate to keep her secret.”

“Hmm, Noah told me about dat party, I t’ink,” nodded Louise. “
It was before he knew Bea Cabrera was his mama. He said she wrinkled up her nose at da sighta him, an’ her eyes got wide when he started to dance, like he was gonna rape a debutante right dere. Imagine showin’ up later to tell him she’s his long lost mama! He said Desmond Donovan was da only one stood up for him. Your grandpapa Guy Cabrera called Noah a ‘coonass’ an’ tried to drag him out.”