Amaranth Page 2
“Camille. Camille Hart.”
“I’m Gavin. Gavin Devereaux. It was great knocking you over.”
“Yeah, thanks for that.” I shook my head, laughing.
“I just wanted to know you!” he shouted as he began walking backward, drifting away.
Waving goodbye, I watched him head back toward the chocolaterie, back toward the scene that would become the most cryptic memory of my trip to the city that had stolen my heart. I saw him stop to slip some money and a handshake to the older man we passed by earlier. I lingered at the sight and smiled to myself, realizing my mission was now underway.
I wrapped my dream coat tighter around my waist and readjusted my scarf while I stared at his name on the plain black business card. Maybe Gavin was right. In that moment, it felt like heaven to catch a glimpse of an alternate me, in the new life he suggested.
His body faded into the city’s sea and I stood there with only his crisp-edged business card and a vision of an improbable but appealing future. Apparently, Paris was an unstoppable force, a very skilled and thorough thief. Because now, it had ownership of my soul.
CHAPTER 2
Undead
The warm breeze washed over me when I stepped outside to get in my mud-smeared jet-black Jeep Wrangler to head to work. I welcomed the heat, inhaled deeply to let it move down my nose and throat. It felt like blazing fire at first, awakening the long-dormant life hidden away in my haven of a body. I was more than thrilled that it was summertime, had missed the uncomfortable hot weather and all its humid glory. My tank top already damp with perspiration, I stuck to the leather seat, my moist hair blowing effortlessly in the wind. It felt raw. Real. Alive.
I jumped on the highway heading for Lafayette, enjoying the sunshine as I drove, though after a year and a half, I was tiring of the trip to the city every day. I lived in the Breaux Bridge area, but was majoring in Literature at Louisiana State University, and worked in Lafayette too. There wasn’t much around my home except wide-open land, sparse neighbors, and a few family-owned restaurants and shops. I needed privacy though, and the rich French culture and history. A short commute to the city was a fair trade for my new life. Besides, I didn’t have classes this summer, so I wasn’t driving to and from Lafayette nearly as often.
In the bookstore parking lot, I put the car into park, lifted up my aviator shades and took a last drag off my cigarette, scanning the lot for any sign of his car. I hadn’t seen him in over a week, and I was hoping he took me seriously this time.
His dark blue Ford pickup wasn’t here. I threw an oversized oxford work shirt over my tank top, always thankful that it covered a multitude of sins, and popped a piece of gum in my mouth, gave a final glance around before I headed inside.
“The new release table’s looking kind of barren, Camille dear,” an annoyingly pleasant voice chimed as I stepped behind the front counter to clock in. Carol, my supervisor, specialized in the completely unnecessary. She watched me walk in the door every day for the past year and a half and do everything she ever asked me to, and then some. She knew I was reliable, that I loved my job, yet she made at least one condescending comment a day to me.
“I’ll be right on it,” I sang back just as pleasant, grabbing a stack of books to take to the new release table.
“Don’t be too long now. I have other things for you to do this morning.” She tilted her gaudy, librarianesque eyeglasses down for a second to look at me and gave me her signature mother hen stare. Rolling my eyes as soon as I had my head turned away from her, I shuffled on over to the table to appease her.
When she was out of sight, I snuck off to the most important section for my weekly ritual. I skimmed through the Hoodoo spellbooks to find some new protection spells, then slipped into the back room to make copies. None of them had worked yet, but I was new to the whole conjure thing, so I was optimistic.
I tucked the new spells into my pocket while I headed back to the new release table, pondering when would be a good time to swing by the conjure shop.
“So what’s it going to be this weekend, dinner and a movie?”
The question came from behind me. My body tensed, my shoulders instantly feeling the greatest effect. I clenched my jaw and swiveled around to peer up at a poisonous, yet undeniably angelic-looking face.
“You know I hate it when you do this,” I said. “And this is hardly the place.”
Times like this, I was grateful I looked so serious all the time. That helped when I needed to appear angrier. But I couldn’t maintain my stare. I swallowed and looked down first, then back up.
“Well maybe if you didn’t hide away from me all the time and actually answered my phone calls, a visit to your place of employment wouldn’t be necessary,” he said. He smirked, stepped a foot closer to me. “I don’t know why you fight it darlin’, you know you’re all talk.” His whisper trailed off as his sinister smile widened. “We both know you’ll never be strong enough.”
Nausea overwhelmed me when he rubbed his hand on my arm, giving me goose bumps. My body flinched with disgust.
His prisoner, I fought the impending paralysis and blinked my eyes, stretched my fingers outward, reminding them of their function. There were people all around who could see this. I was safe. He wouldn’t be so stupid. Not here. A thousand creeping anxieties scattered through my consciousness.
“Nothing is going on this weekend, Andrew. And we both know that you are going to stay away from me.” I gritted my teeth, glancing left and right to make sure we weren’t making a scene. “I am strong enough. I’ve changed, and I don’t care if you believe that or not--”
He grasped my arm, leaning in to speak directly in my ear. His smoky green eyes bored into mine, appraising me. “Oh, I do believe you’ve changed darlin’. I believe you’re more afraid now than you have ever been. And that fear inhibits your ability to be strong, sweetheart. Whether you believe that or not.”
He let my arm go abruptly and kissed my forehead before he turned to walk away. I shuddered at the touch of his lips on my skin.
“I’ll pick you up at six on Sunday, then.” He didn’t bother turning back to look at me. “Oh -- not this weekend, though. Next weekend. This weekend I’ll be out of town, have some things to take care of.” He pivoted his head around, winking at me. “You be good while I’m gone, now.”
Strolling out the front door, he left me like wounded prey to awaiting predators, hungry and ready to pounce. Shaken, I darted for the back of the store, hoping my coworkers wouldn’t notice. I had to get outside and breathe. I needed to be alone before I started breaking down, before my mind went to war with the intrusive, unwelcome hunters in my head.
I stepped out the back door from the inventory room and leaned up against the sun-heated concrete wall, tilting my head back, closing my eyes while I slid down the wall and landed with my knees up, sobbing. He would never let me go from this personal hell I created for myself. He would never let me free from the guilt and shame that consumed me for letting him into my life. He was the first person to befriend me when I moved here, someone I felt genuinely comfortable with.
I exhaled, shaking my head at my ridiculous, contradictory thoughts. How could I have had such poor judgment? The answer was clear despite my fragmented feelings. I asked myself this same question every single day, and after the spectacle he just pulled, I had to be honest with myself. A year and a half ago, he helped fill a void. But now my weakness was returning to haunt me in the very place I ran to, the place I came to give myself a new beginning.
I sat on the concrete, fighting the war raging inside my head, knowing Carol could come barging out here any second to fire me. But I couldn’t think about her or my job right now. The only thoughts I had were of my trip to Paris, how invigorated I felt there. And how free. How liberated I’d felt by myself, halfway across the world in a different country, a different culture, fully separate from everything back home that bound me to my past. No one knew me, and there was nothing in the city to remind m
e of anything familiar. I remembered imagining it must be what being reborn felt like, being able to assign new memories to the places and faces I encountered.
I’d come to Louisiana to make a future. I met him. Even if I failed, I must try to get away from him. It will never happen, unless ...
I knew I had to turn him in, get help. Get a restraining order. Something. Anything. I pulled the new spells from my pocket to stare at them. I had to get to the conjure shop fast and get the supplies I needed, before Audrey arrived.
Audrey. How was I going to keep all of this from her?
Somehow, I just would. I shot up from the ground, my heart pounding through my chest, whisked hair away from my face, angrily scrubbed tears from my eyes and cheeks. I straightened my work shirt and gulped a deep breath, then another, certain I looked deranged. I didn’t care. I had to run with this epiphany.
Louisiana was my Paris. That was why I moved here. Why should I blow my chance at a new life because I had a lapse in sanity and let this monster into my life, allow him to steal every ounce of my courage and dignity? If I was strong enough to walk away from the last abuser, uproot myself and move across the country, then I was strong enough to quit this sick addiction called Andrew.
A wind gust blew around me, and I looked up to see storm clouds. A crack of thunder made me reel as the back door swung open, slamming against the concrete wall. Carol stuck her head out, looked me up and down. “What on earth do you think you’re doing? You can’t just walk out here on the clock and leave the store like that! I’m sorry, but these fifteen-minute smoke breaks of yours can’t be tolerated--”
She stopped her rant when I turned to look at her. She must have seen my mess of a face. Embarrassment washed her expression and her eyes moved to her feet.
“I wasn’t smoking, Carol. If you can believe it.”
“Listen Camille,” she hesitated. “It’s that boy, isn’t it? I know it’s not my business, but I saw you with him just now. And,” she nervously ran her fingers through her big red Texas hair, “it didn’t settle right with me. Not at all. He gave me the creeps. I mean, the way he looked at you, and your body language, well ...”
She caught my scrutiny, pressed her lips together, then said, “I think he’s no good. And to see you distraught like this ...”
Distraught. Clever Carol. Her meddlesome inferences actually hit the nail right on the head.
“Well ... thanks, Carol. I appreciate your concern, but it’s okay. We’re just breaking up and I’m having a hard time with it.” That half-truth was the best I could manage.
“I understand. That’s the last you’ll hear from me about it. Just let me know if you need my help with anything.... If something goes wrong.”
“I’ll let you know. Really.”
She nodded briskly, turned for the door. “I better get back in there. Take a minute to get yourself together and come on back in. We have a lot to get done this morning.”
I watched her shut the door and exhaled, looked once more up at the sky. While I worked at compartmentalizing my troubles, my mind registered that Carol was much more perceptive than I ever gave her credit for. I would have to be more careful now. I shook that from my mind and instead thought about the decision I’d made, to finally get rid of Andrew and reclaim the new life that sat patiently in the womb, waiting to be born.
The sky was dark now, and the thunder grew more prominent. Hard, cold raindrops hit my skin and I shuddered. Water soaked my hair and my face, washing away the last of my tears and smeared mascara. As the rain cleansed my forehead, I could feel the malicious predators that had come to defeat me scamper off, leave in defeat. An irrational perseverance rose within me, produced a hopeful smile on my face. I reached for the door, held on tight to my second wind and hurried back inside.
CHAPTER 3
The Truth Shall Set You Free
How I’d managed to sleep that night was beyond me, but I awoke rejuvenated. Perhaps that was because I’d see Audrey this morning. This was her first visit since I moved from Seattle. She had no classes this summer, and was able to get off work for a while to come see me. And I was having “Audrey withdrawals.”
On the way to the airport I visited the conjure shop, eager to try the new protection spells. The earthy building with haint blue windows and doors sat tucked away behind an old pizzeria, right around the corner from the bookstore. I spotted the familiar rootworker behind the counter, some tired old tune playing on the ancient record player behind her.
“I need your help again, Vivienne. I want to try these out.” I handed her the list of supplies I needed.
She looked at me cautiously, slowly shook her head in disapproval. “Listen, child, I don’t know how to tell you this, but ... this just ain’t how it works, nah, child.”
I lowered my voice, looked around. “I need to make sure my friend and I are going to be safe. I’m still having problems.”
She peered back at me, paper-thin wrinkles bunched up around discerning eyes. “I understand nah, baby, but you may have somethin’ different on your hands. Somethin’ that won’t respond to these spells, ya hear? You don’ wanna be messin’ with--”
“Please, Vivienne. I need all the help I can get.”
What seemed a full minute passed before she looked down at the papers and smacked her lips together, nodded, led me to the shelves.
“Remember nah, this is just extra protection. This won’t take the place of a good ol’ fashioned jail cell, ya hear?” She placed bags of herbs and roots in my hands.
I nodded and handed her the last of my money.
“Somethin’ just not right,” she mumbled, but I was already rushing toward the door.
At the airport terminal, I saw her first, so I was able to see her reaction when she spotted me through the crowds of people. Her face beamed with that same giddy look she got in middle school whenever I announced I was having a slumber party. With her around, I knew that seeing things through a child’s eyes again would be as easy as breathing.
I rushed over to hug her, nearly knocking her down in collision. She laughed, pulling away from my embrace to look at me. “I just got here and you’re already trying to kill me, woman!”
“Can you blame me?” I shot back. “You nearly killed me, making me wait a year and a half to see you! I was having panic attacks down here, ya know.” As pure as she was, Audrey had a sarcasm I appreciated, something I believed made our bond even tighter.
“Well you know you could’ve come to Seattle to see me too,” she said. “You’ve practically written the place off!” She stopped at my expression. “Cam, you know I’m just giving you a hard time. I know Seattle’s the last place you’d want to visit. I get it.”
She tapped the side of my arm and picked up her luggage from where she’d dropped it. “Now, can we please get out of here? It’s giving me a headache!”
“Absolutely,” I said.
“Good. I’m starving, and I have so much to tell you! But I need to eat something, like right now. Can we pleeeeease hurry up?”
I had to laugh. “Sure. We’ll stop on the way to the house. That is, if you can control your appetite for a whole twenty minutes.”
She rolled her big blue eyes. “Don’t start with me. It’s not the smartest idea to mess with a cranky, hungry woman who’s been on a plane all morning. Let me get something in my stomach before you start giving me attitude, so I at least have some energy in me to fight back!” She nudged me with her elbow as we headed to leave.
I nudged her back. “It’s good to see you, too.”
Before we knew it, it was almost dusk. After breakfast we’d shopped, so we decided to hang out at home that night. Once we finished dinner, we headed out to walk around the neighborhood like we used to back in Seattle, to reminisce and catch up. Though there was no one on the planet I would confide in except her, I still didn’t want to tell her the truth.
“So you know I’m bound to ask,” she began while we walked down the rugged road past
a sugarcane field. “You might as well just come out with it and save me the trouble of prying it out of you.”
I tried. “Audrey, there’s nothing to tell.” Then I sighed, realizing I was already defeated. “Can we please talk about what’s going on with you some more? You never told me about what happened with Brian, or how your spring classes went.”
She gathered her dirty blonde hair into her hands and tied it up into a ponytail. As she did, she said, “Brian’s history, good riddance. Classes were good. Same old, same old. Now. Who is he? And why won’t you talk to me about him? I mean, all the times we’ve talked on the phone, and you just dance around the subject.”
She raised her eyebrows at me, waiting. I watched a family of ducks waddle by, crossing the street in front of us. “You know, I really admire their simple lives,” I said. “Eat, sleep, repeat.” I glanced up to examine the soft palette of colors in the sky.
“Yeah, the ducks. Simple. I get it. Now spill.”
I sighed. “I haven’t talked to you about him because there’s nothing to tell. Besides, you know how I am about talking on the phone. It’s so impersonal. I didn’t want to get into it.” I shrugged.
“Okay, well I’m here now. No phones. So let’s hear it.”
Of course. Get right to the point, Camille. She was so impatient. So blunt. So ... Audrey. I hesitated, trying to figure out how to be as truthful as possible without alarming her. I couldn’t have her run off and confront him herself, before I had the chance to try the protection spell. Knowing how enraged she’d be when she found out, I doubted she would be able to hear the rest of the story.
“It’s not a big deal. He seemed great. Someone I could relate to. We dated for the past year, and ... he turned out to be a jerk. So now we’re going through the breakup. And it’s hard.”
She shook her head. “I knew something was up. You dated for a year, and you don’t tell me anything?” Annoyance had crept into her tone. “Never mind that. Do you still love him?”