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Authors: Alys Arden

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BOOK: The Casquette Girls
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That is when everything suddenly made absolute sense, Papa.

I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. On our last night in Paris,
Monsieur Cartier
, or Medici, or whatever his real name is, had asked if I would hide him in my luggage. The blonde man, Gabriel Medici, had asked Cosette if he could stow away in he
r
cassett
e
. How many other vampires had visited how many of the other orphans and tricked them into giving them passage – and meals?

I recalled the crew moving the
cassettes
from the S.S.
Gironde
to the pirate ship and then to our current vessel. These vampires had made it so far, and now they were about to inadvertently walk the plank. We would finally be rid of the monsters for good!

My head spun with images of Sophie and Claude dying, and the bloody massacre on the S.S.
Girond
e

but als
o
the compassion Gabriel had shown Makandal that night in the sugarcane field. Was it even possible for such a creature to have compassion?

“Wait!” I suddenly found myself yelling. “
Attende
z
!
Stop!”

All eyes on deck turned to me.


Oui, Mademoiselle Saint-Germain?

asked the captain.


Le sucré! Le sucr
é
!
” I gasped, running to help the men keep the first box from tipping overboard. “The sugar! Throw over the sugar! You have to at least try before we toss their dowries.” My heart pounded, knowing that Gabriel might be inside
la cassette
.

A flitter of relief rippled through the orphans, and a smile spread across the captain’s face. “You heard the lady: bring up the sugar!”

The men finished dumping the governor’s golden gift overboard, and all the passengers ran to one side of the boat to redistribute the weight. We anxiously waited as the rudder fought, but it wasn’t enough. Another half hour went by, and we were no freer than before.

I could feel the hearts of each passenger begin to sink when, all of a sudden, a wave rocked the boat, and then another. They grew in strength, and the boat lurched, knocking everyone to the floor.

I gripped a thick net and hoisted myself up. It was difficult to see through the wind and splashing water, and at the time I could hardly believe it: the sand was taking on the shape of the waves and parting, allowing the ship’s release.

“A miracle,” one of the nuns rejoiced, crossing her chest. Another jolt knocked me back on to the deck, and that’s when I saw her. In the crow’s nest, with her arms held out to the sand bar, head rolled back: it was Marassa, speaking into the wind with the red bird singing loudly from her shoulder.

My confounded gaze brought everyone’s attention to the
Kreyòl
girl.

“Who is that?” yelled one of the orphans.

“Stowaway!” shouted one of the crew.

“What is she doing?”

“Who smuggled the contraband!”

“Witch!”

The crowd gasped.

“Witch!”

“Come down here, girl!” yelled the captain. “We won’t hurt you.”

The nuns pulled out their beads and began to pray. Panic spread throughout my body as Marassa slowly came down the pole. Her feet hit the floor, and she took off running; the first mate raced behind her as she fled below deck. The captain yelled for order, but I flew past him with the triplets in tow; we chased them into the first-class cabin marked “DuFrense.”

I burst into Martine's room, yelling, “Get off of her!” as he grabbed the back of Marassa’s neck. The captain and Mother Superior entered the cabin, as his first mate yelled back at me, “Did you steal this contraband from the island?”

“I didn’t
steal
her,” I hissed. “You can’t
stea
l
a person. She’s not a
possession
.” My heart pounded, Papa. After all of the trouble – after weeks of hiding – we were finally exposed.

But then a voice of superiority rang loud and clear. “What do you think you are doing? Take your hands off my property at once!”

A small hiccup prevented Martine from any more speech, but she grabbed Marassa’s arm and pulled the girl to her side. Everyone looked on in shock, including me and Cosette.

“Pardon, Madame DuFrense,” said the first mate. “This girl belongs to you?”

“What do you think I spent all of those hours shopping for on the island? Sugar? Do you think I have ever baked a tart in my life?” She stood in front of the frightened girl in a protective stance.

“Our apologies, Madame Martin
e.
You should have let us know, to ensure that she was properly added to the passenger manifest,” the captain halfheartedly scolded her, but his eyes never left me.

I made a face to declare my innocence, and I knew he had to concentrate lest he betray a smile.

“Well, add her to your documents!” Martine said. “Now, don’t you have a ship to navigate? Get out of my cabin, all of you!”

As soon as everyone but the triplets and
I had cleared the room, Martine fell onto the chaise and let out another hiccup. The four of us fell to our knees beside her, showering her with thanks.

Marassa stood frozen in bewilderment.

“Don’t fret
,
ma chérie
,” Martine told her as she poured rum into a glass and quickly swallowed the drink. “I would no sooner own a child than I would birth one on my own accord.”

Chapter 30 Plastic Cheese

 

The surest way to push me back into my father’s arms was certainly the sight of my mother. After the bizarre encounter at Vodou Pourvoyeur, I ran (literally) straight for Le Chat Noir. This time it made way more sense when Troy the bouncer asked me to give my father a message.

There weren’t nearly as many people in the
garçonnière
as the previous night, but it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet, and in pre-Storm New Orleans, that would have meant the night hadn’t even begun. I headed straight for the bar, but stopped short when I overheard Detective Matthews’ voice. He was sitting at the bar, leaning over a glass of clear-colored spirits, talking to my father, who was drying tumblers with a rag.

“… I’m just saying, it’s a little strange that she reported one of the victim’s bodies and then was first on site to another crime scene.”

Are they talking about me
?
I slipped beside an armoire and strained my ears to listen.

“You better not be insinuating what I think you are, Terry.” If I wasn’t mistaken, there was a bit of threat in my father’s tone.

“I’m not trying to cause trouble here, Mac. It’s my job to look at all the facts. Don’t you think it’s a little peculiar that most of this picked up right after she arrived back from France?”

Did the detective actually consider me a suspect? Of murder?

“The way the Wolfman was drained and hung over the statue reminded me an awful lot of the deaths of those two filmmaker kids.”

This time, my father wasn’t so quick to defend. He dried two more glasses before looking up. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this…”

“What is it, Mac?” The disheveled detective leaned closer to my father.

“Well, I’ve gotten wind Brigitte is back in town.”

“Your ex-wife?”

“Wife.”

“What?”

“Well, technically we never got a divorce. After she skipped town, there was never a real need to,” he paused, “and I guess I always hoped she would come back.”

“I’m sorry, Mac, but this is just too much of a coincidence. Do you know when she got back in town? Where she is staying?”

“Nope. Haven’t heard from her, so I’m guessing she’s not here to see me.” He tried not to let the disappointment clog his throat.

Whatever animosity I’d been harboring towards my father totally dissipated. He was the only person who’d always been there for me. While I didn’t appreciate him
hiding
things, the world was too crazy right now to hold a grudge. I sheepishly stepped out of the shadows.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Sweetheart!”

“Addie,” chimed the detective, “what a pleasant surprise.”

“Hi, Detective.” I greeted him through gritted teeth. “How’s the case coming?”

“Slowly but surely. Just got a new lead, actually. I need to run. You can have my seat.”

Is he referring to my mother as a new lead? What the hell is going on here?

After a quick cough, the detective drained the booze and shook my dad’s hand. “Mac.”

“Adele, I hear your mom’s back in town. You seen her?”

Concerned, my father set down his glass, waiting for my reaction.

“No,” I lied. Well, I hadn’t talked to her, anyway.

“Do you know where she is sta—”

“Terry. Minor. Out!”

The detective gave my dad an apologetic look and headed for the exit. My gaze stayed with him until the door closed.

My father treaded with caution. “Did you get some studying done with Désirée?”

“Yeah, it was far more educational than I ever could have guessed.”

“Good.”

“I’m sorry, Dad. About last night. About everything. It’s just that everything is so different now… I feel like I’m on another planet sometimes.”

“I know, honey. And I’m sorry for keeping the bar hidden from you. I didn’t want to implicate you in any way. After all, it
is
illegal.” He paused. “She’ll turn up eventually, Adele.”

“That’s not very comforting, Dad. Why do you think she’s here?”

“I don’t know, honey, but I am sure it’s got something to do with you. She probably couldn’t stay away after having you for two months.”

I gave him my best “get real” look.
Does he not remember that she just shipped me off to boarding school the second she had the chance to be with me?
“Is it okay if I just sit here and study for a while?”

“Sure, but don’t tell Terry I let you stay out after curfew.” He winked.

“Me being out after curfew is the least of Detective Matthews’ problems.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” He plunged the cork from a bottle of Cabernet and poured a heavy glass for a bar patron. “Only two more bottles… soon we’ll have nothing left.”

“Hmm.” I looked at the empty bottles lining the floor behind the bar: various wines, rums, bourbons, vodkas, Sazerac, Pimms, but on the shelf – a dozen bottles of gin, all full.

I shook my head and kept my mouth shut, as I took out Adeline’s diary and my notebook and began translating.

 

 

6th June 1728

 

I spent the rest of the journey in agony, Papa. Always anticipating the worst. We went nearly two weeks without any evidence of the vampires, but, just as my nerves began to settle, two orphans woke with symptoms. The guilt began to consume me, being the one who had saved the monsters from drowning. I tormented myself with regret, thinking I should have let them all sink to the bottom of the ocean.

Every morning I prayed with the nuns for good weather and strong winds to expedite the journey. After a few days, only one of the girls had woken. I spent night and day with the remaining unconscious girl, until one morning her chest no longer moved up and down. I became hysterical. Cosette did her best to calm me, and the captain assured me we would reach La Nouvelle-Orléans in two days’ time.

Thank heavens he was correct. Two days later I stepped onto the dock of the port de la Nouvelle-Orléans with a heavy mix of emotions. I was elated that the passengers I had come to know so well were no longer trapped at sea with the deadliest of predators, but I could not celebrate this victory knowing that the vampires would soon be unleashed upon the unsuspecting citizens of this new land.

I never told the triplets of my theory regarding the cassettes. Knowing innocent people had been bitten after I saved the monsters was too shameful. Despite my heavy mood, the girls made me celebrate our arrival by attending a parade commencing that very afternoon, honoring the completion of the new Ursuline Convent on Rue de Chartres.

Women led the way, tossing flower petals into the newly stoned streets, while the men beat drums and blew horns. Children twirled strips of fabric tied to sticks, and an elderly man rode a mule, waving the King’s flag. The parade did raise my spirits, mostly because I couldn’t help but marvel at the procession of people. There were rich and poor. Men of the Holy Cloth and women of the very unholy cloth. White. Black. Dark. Light. Young girls with tanned skin and shiny black hair tied into intricate braids and adorned with feathers and beads held hands and walked side by side with the Sisters. I overheard a local Frenchman nearby call them “savages” as they passed.

Most of the colonists are French, but I occasionally hear words of Spanish, English, German, and others I
do not recognize. The mixture makes La Nouvelle-Orléans seem so progressive, so scandalous! Of course, I immediately fell in love with this land. Maybe it really is true that a person could start over here…

BOOK: The Casquette Girls
13.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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