well.”
“What do you mean?”
He hesitated, then said, “You’ve always seemed a bit…resentful of me. I’ve wondered if it was because of my mother, because of what our parents did or…something else.”
“I could hardly blame you for my father’s and your mother’s affair, could I?” The question was reasonable, but my tone, I feared, was a dead giveaway. I
had
resented him—resented him because he’d made me want something I’d known I could never have.
“Maybe not,” he said. “But family ties can be strong, binding. I know your grandmother hated us all. Barbarians, she called us. Unholy heathens who bewitched Christopher Greggory away from his beloved family in order to steal all his money.”
He was smiling, but I sensed he was far from amused. He’d been little more than a child himself when all this had happened with our parents. Had my grandmother’s cruel words hurt him? It was hard to believe that anything could hurt Reid St. Pierre. He seemed so formidable now, so distant.
He shrugged, as though dismissing the mood, and set aside the picture. “I think it’s time we headed back,”he said. “Obviously Christopher’s not here and hasn’t been for some time.”
I agreed. The gathering darkness, the stroll down memory lane, had left me oddly depressed. I couldn’t wait to get out of the cabin. But as we stepped off the porch, I heard drums start up somewhere in the woods.
The sound echoed through the darkness, an eerie, hypnotic beat that seemed to beckon and call me.
My breath was frozen somewhere in my throat, but my heart was pumping ninety to nothing. Even Reid had stopped, and was listening intently to the darkness.
“What is it?” I whispered.
“A vodun ceremony.” He gave it the creole pronunciation, then flashed me a brief glance. “Voodoo, as Hollywood calls it. It’s nothing to worry about.”
I glanced at the dark purple sky. “Isn’t it a little early for that? It’s not midnight.”
“You’ve been reading too many books, Christine.” His tone was dry, annoyed. “Depending on the occasion, the ritual can take place anytime, even in broad daylight, believe it or not. Sometimes they last for days at a time.”
“So what
is
the occasion?”
“Maybe a celebration,” he suggested, then looked as though he regretted his words.
“What kind of a celebration?”
He looked just plain annoyed now. “I don’t know, Christine. Would you like to go ask them?”
“As a matter of fact, I would.”
That got his attention. “I hope you’re kidding.”
“No. Why can’t we go? Maybe someone’s seen my father around here. The voodoo ceremonies are harmless, right? At least, that’s what the travel brochures say.”
“It’s a matter of courtesy,” he explained, but there was an edge to his voice I couldn’t quite identify. “We weren’t invited.”
“Does that matter?”
“To some, yes.”
“But what if they
have
seen my father? What if they know where he is? Look, we’ve come this far. I don’t want to leave until we’ve explored every possibility. If you don’t want to seem impolite, I’ll go by myself.”
Those brave words might even have fooled me if I hadn’t felt the way my hands were trembling, my heart pounding. The last thing I wanted to do was go to that ceremony alone, and yet even as apprehensive as I was, I felt an almost insatiable curiosity about it.
How many times did one get the opportunity to witness a real vodun ceremony in person?
It would be something to share with my students when I got back. An adventure to pique their interest. And mine.
I turned and started toward the sound. Behind me I heard Reid mutter something under his breath, something dark and indistinguishable, but I got the gist of it, anyway. I couldn’t help smiling a little as he caught up with me, then passed me by.
He threw me a glance over his shoulder. “Keep out of sight if you can manage it,” he said between clenched teeth. “And let me
“What do you mean?”
He hesitated, then said, “You’ve always seemed a bit…resentful of me. I’ve wondered if it was because of my mother, because of what our parents did or…something else.”
“I could hardly blame you for my father’s and your mother’s affair, could I?” The question was reasonable, but my tone, I feared, was a dead giveaway. I
had
resented him—resented him because he’d made me want something I’d known I could never have.
“Maybe not,” he said. “But family ties can be strong, binding. I know your grandmother hated us all. Barbarians, she called us. Unholy heathens who bewitched Christopher Greggory away from his beloved family in order to steal all his money.”
He was smiling, but I sensed he was far from amused. He’d been little more than a child himself when all this had happened with our parents. Had my grandmother’s cruel words hurt him? It was hard to believe that anything could hurt Reid St. Pierre. He seemed so formidable now, so distant.
He shrugged, as though dismissing the mood, and set aside the picture. “I think it’s time we headed back,”he said. “Obviously Christopher’s not here and hasn’t been for some time.”
I agreed. The gathering darkness, the stroll down memory lane, had left me oddly depressed. I couldn’t wait to get out of the cabin. But as we stepped off the porch, I heard drums start up somewhere in the woods.
The sound echoed through the darkness, an eerie, hypnotic beat that seemed to beckon and call me.
My breath was frozen somewhere in my throat, but my heart was pumping ninety to nothing. Even Reid had stopped, and was listening intently to the darkness.
“What is it?” I whispered.
“A vodun ceremony.” He gave it the creole pronunciation, then flashed me a brief glance. “Voodoo, as Hollywood calls it. It’s nothing to worry about.”
I glanced at the dark purple sky. “Isn’t it a little early for that? It’s not midnight.”
“You’ve been reading too many books, Christine.” His tone was dry, annoyed. “Depending on the occasion, the ritual can take place anytime, even in broad daylight, believe it or not. Sometimes they last for days at a time.”
“So what
is
the occasion?”
“Maybe a celebration,” he suggested, then looked as though he regretted his words.
“What kind of a celebration?”
He looked just plain annoyed now. “I don’t know, Christine. Would you like to go ask them?”
“As a matter of fact, I would.”
That got his attention. “I hope you’re kidding.”
“No. Why can’t we go? Maybe someone’s seen my father around here. The voodoo ceremonies are harmless, right? At least, that’s what the travel brochures say.”
“It’s a matter of courtesy,” he explained, but there was an edge to his voice I couldn’t quite identify. “We weren’t invited.”
“Does that matter?”
“To some, yes.”
“But what if they
have
seen my father? What if they know where he is? Look, we’ve come this far. I don’t want to leave until we’ve explored every possibility. If you don’t want to seem impolite, I’ll go by myself.”
Those brave words might even have fooled me if I hadn’t felt the way my hands were trembling, my heart pounding. The last thing I wanted to do was go to that ceremony alone, and yet even as apprehensive as I was, I felt an almost insatiable curiosity about it.
How many times did one get the opportunity to witness a real vodun ceremony in person?
It would be something to share with my students when I got back. An adventure to pique their interest. And mine.
I turned and started toward the sound. Behind me I heard Reid mutter something under his breath, something dark and indistinguishable, but I got the gist of it, anyway. I couldn’t help smiling a little as he caught up with me, then passed me by.
He threw me a glance over his shoulder. “Keep out of sight if you can manage it,” he said between clenched teeth. “And let me
Similar Books
