“Look at him,” The larger of the two men laughed. “He’s done and started grinnin’. Don’t you know you’re gonna get yourself hurt, boy?”
“You cannot hurt me.” Naasir answered. “I am protected.”
“Ain’t nothin’ gonna protect you from Miss Evangeline.” The other man chortled.
“There are things in this world that are greater than ‘The Elegant Ogress.’” Naasir responded.
“Now, now, boy, them’s not words we like to use ‘round here.” The larger man growled.
“I speak only the truth.” Naasir said bravely as his face was stung by a strong, sweaty slap.
“You want me to hit you again?” The large man howled.
“I care not.” Naasir smiled.
The man struck him again—this time more fiercely and sharply.
Naasir continued to smile.
“Miss Evangeline will be down in a minute.” The second man said.
“I will wait for her.” Naasir nodded. “Undaunted.”
“Ain’t got no choice, have ya?” The large man chuckled as the two of them left Naasir in a dimly lit room.
Naasir looked around. The room was devoid of furnishing except for a large wooden altar which had been constructed at the farthest end. Idols and sculptures supported flickering candles around the perimeter of the great table which had been draped with multi-colored silks. The skull of some animal—some large animal with curving teeth—sat squarely in the middle of the altar. The walls of the room had been painted black—the color of the soot from a thousand fires.
Naasir smiled. “Those who watch over us, keep a careful eye on Mr. Punch and elevate him. Elevate him so that Lord Julian will be safe.”
His smile broadened as he sniffed the air. “He’s here.”
Meanwhile, upstairs, Iolanthe Evangeline walked silently in circles around her private parlor. Mr. Punch refused to look at her.
“Think you can ignore me?” The Elegant Ogress spat as she walked around and around the chair where Punch had rested Julian’s weary body. “Well, I don’t want you thinkin’ that you can?” She paused and knelt down in front of Julian, looking him squarely in the face. She smelled of roses—like Nanny Rittenhouse.
“Look at me!” She hissed.
“I see you.” Punch responded.
“Who are you?” She asked.
“You know who I am.” Punch smiled.
“I know who you look like, but I’d say it’s a damn sight different than what you really are.” Miss Evangeline leaned closer.
“You got nothin’ to say?” She asked.
“Not ‘specially,” Mr. Punch chuckled.
“What is your man?” Iolanthe rose angrily.
“He’s a man.” Punch answered flatly.
“No. He’s something else. He’s some kind of priest, isn’t he?”
“He’s a human man.” Punch shook his head.
“On the surface. But, he’s got somethin’ in him.” Iolanthe began to pace again. “I can smell it.”
“We all have something in us. Haven’t we?” Punch answered.
“You got somethin’ in you, too.” Iolanthe shouted. “Somethin’ I’ve got to destroy. I’ll tell you this. I did not go to this lot of trouble to fetch that fine Englishwoman here only to have my plans ruined by some madman and his priest! Oh no, I got too much at stake. I done made a deal and I aim to see that it goes off without a hitch!”
She stopped pacing again and narrowed her eyes. “Do you know how much a human life costs?”
Punch didn’t answer because he didn’t know what to say.
“A fresh, new life?” Iolanthe continued. “Plenty! I done spilled a lot of blood. I will not let that go to waste! I’m gonna be paid what’s owed me! And, I won’t have no African man nor his tetched master get in the way of that.”
“I beat the Devil.” Punch whispered.
“What’s that?” Iolanthe cackled.
“I beat the Devil!” Punch shouted. “I ain’t afraid of you.”
“You are strange.” Iolanthe smiled. “I could almost like you if it didn’t serve me better to hate you.”
“I love me master.” Punch said loudly, “But, I got to protect me-self. See? You can destroy his body, but, you can’t destroy me. I’ll find a new master. You can’t destroy me.”
“Quiet!” Iolanthe barked. “Stop your chatter.”
Iolanthe smoothed the gloves which clung to her long, thin arms. The door to the room creaked open and the homely woman called Mala entered.
“Is the man ready at the altar?” Iolanthe asked.
“Yes’m.” Mala nodded. “But, we got some trouble.”
“What?” Iolanthe groaned.
“The other one is downstairs. The other Englishman.” Mala pointed at Julian/Punch. “That one’s companion.”
“The good doctor.” Iolanthe Evangeline smiled. She turned her head quickly and growled at Punch. “Do you think he’ll tend to your wounds? Perhaps he’ll put salve on your man after I’ve burned him at my altar!”
“What’ll I do with him?” Mala asked.
“Show him up here.” Iolanthe Evangline chirped. “He can watch me get rid of this annoyance.”
Did you miss Chapters 1-43? If so, you can read them here.
4 comments:
Oh, this is getting scary! I wish I could turn the page and find out what happens next. I'll be back tomorrow.
Thank you, Darcy! I'm so happy you're enjoying it. We'll see what happens tomorrow!
Agreed that this is frightening. But also quite horribly believable in light of some of the historic events of contemporary New Orleans. This writing is giving life again to that era in every sensory way.
Thank you, Dashwood! I've been researching New Orleans history for many years. There were, indeed, instances of behavior such as Iolanthe Evangeline's that were recorded. I appreciate your comment!
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