You don’t have to marry anyone.”
“I know, but I want to give this a try.”
“A ’try’? You can’t just end the marriage if you decide you don’t love this man. Once you do this, you involve the church and government.”
Catherine took Xavier’s face in her hands. She gazed with a soft smile, the tears already dried and her eyes dancing with excitement. “You’re my most treasured possession. I don’t expect you to understand. Much of it escapes me, but I must do this, whether you or Michel approve. It will be much easier if you assist me. I won’t lie, I’ll defy even you if you challenge me.”
Xavier’s stomach ached. She meant every word. This was another battle for her independence in which she would never yield to patriarchal authority.
“You have just met him?”
“Yes. He instantly enthralled me. I can’t explain the passion. True, I don’t love him. But I feel an intense passion, a longing for him. Have I embarrassed you? It’s true that he attracts me in a way I can’t explain. And if I must marry, why not go to someone who can affect me that way?”
“Catherine, could you come here, please?” Marcel called from the back.
She took leave but Xavier quietly followed her to the doorway. He hid in the shadows and saw both of them in a small room full of bottles, dead animals, and other strange artifacts. This room frightened Xavier more than the front. He hated spying, but felt he had no choice. How else was he to learn the truth? What he saw alarmed him beyond measure. Marcel, glancing about nervously, handed Catherine a glass of some strange blue liquid and asked her to drink. She did, and whatever liquid it was affected her somehow, because she almost fell back when finished. She steadied herself and then reached up and kissed Marcel on the cheek.
“Abbé, come in,” Marcel said. Xavier walked slowly in. Catherine was clearly drugged. Marcel glared at the curé, but Xavier ignored him, taking stock of more odd things. A dried bat, the feet of chickens, herbs, powder, and skulls. Was that a human skull in the corner? The room chilled Xavier unlike anything he had ever experienced. In seminary, he learned about evil places that repelled religiously devout people and had brushed it aside as an old Catholic superstition, but for the first time he wondered about its truth. His friend, Anne, talked about her religion from the New World and how some people adopted it for bad purposes. He would have to ask her if these things of Marcel’s fit that category.
Catherine finally looked around and noticed Xavier. “Brother,” she acknowledged.
“I see you like my room,” Marcel said to Xavier.
“Intriguing.”
“I suppose that it shocks you, a representative of the Church. It’s voodoo. I learned it in the New World. Nothing to worry about, just a little magic to protect those I love and help my business.”
Voodoo. That’s what Anne had called her religion.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Catherine asked. “Marcel doesn’t believe in that old Catholic theology. Don’t worry, dear, Xavier doesn’t adhere to it either!” She giggled and giggled.
“Catherine, will you wait for us outside?” Marcel asked.
“Certainly.”
Marcel’s comportment changed instantly when she left. Xavier walked backward and clutched his cross. He said a silent prayer as the two men glared at each other.
“Stay out of this. This is no place for a priest. Your sister chose her path. I only help her along. Don’t mind that little drink I gave her. She likes it.”
Xavier stood, powerless to do anything.
“Father,” Marcel said mockingly. “May I make a confession? I offered her a small potion that gives her the power to love. You see, she told me about how much tradition constrains her. I took that to mean that she wanted whatever help possible. So I give her that drink, you see, to free her mind. Just a Haitian remedy I learned on some of my travels.”
Xavier bumped into the wall. His
“I know, but I want to give this a try.”
“A ’try’? You can’t just end the marriage if you decide you don’t love this man. Once you do this, you involve the church and government.”
Catherine took Xavier’s face in her hands. She gazed with a soft smile, the tears already dried and her eyes dancing with excitement. “You’re my most treasured possession. I don’t expect you to understand. Much of it escapes me, but I must do this, whether you or Michel approve. It will be much easier if you assist me. I won’t lie, I’ll defy even you if you challenge me.”
Xavier’s stomach ached. She meant every word. This was another battle for her independence in which she would never yield to patriarchal authority.
“You have just met him?”
“Yes. He instantly enthralled me. I can’t explain the passion. True, I don’t love him. But I feel an intense passion, a longing for him. Have I embarrassed you? It’s true that he attracts me in a way I can’t explain. And if I must marry, why not go to someone who can affect me that way?”
“Catherine, could you come here, please?” Marcel called from the back.
She took leave but Xavier quietly followed her to the doorway. He hid in the shadows and saw both of them in a small room full of bottles, dead animals, and other strange artifacts. This room frightened Xavier more than the front. He hated spying, but felt he had no choice. How else was he to learn the truth? What he saw alarmed him beyond measure. Marcel, glancing about nervously, handed Catherine a glass of some strange blue liquid and asked her to drink. She did, and whatever liquid it was affected her somehow, because she almost fell back when finished. She steadied herself and then reached up and kissed Marcel on the cheek.
“Abbé, come in,” Marcel said. Xavier walked slowly in. Catherine was clearly drugged. Marcel glared at the curé, but Xavier ignored him, taking stock of more odd things. A dried bat, the feet of chickens, herbs, powder, and skulls. Was that a human skull in the corner? The room chilled Xavier unlike anything he had ever experienced. In seminary, he learned about evil places that repelled religiously devout people and had brushed it aside as an old Catholic superstition, but for the first time he wondered about its truth. His friend, Anne, talked about her religion from the New World and how some people adopted it for bad purposes. He would have to ask her if these things of Marcel’s fit that category.
Catherine finally looked around and noticed Xavier. “Brother,” she acknowledged.
“I see you like my room,” Marcel said to Xavier.
“Intriguing.”
“I suppose that it shocks you, a representative of the Church. It’s voodoo. I learned it in the New World. Nothing to worry about, just a little magic to protect those I love and help my business.”
Voodoo. That’s what Anne had called her religion.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Catherine asked. “Marcel doesn’t believe in that old Catholic theology. Don’t worry, dear, Xavier doesn’t adhere to it either!” She giggled and giggled.
“Catherine, will you wait for us outside?” Marcel asked.
“Certainly.”
Marcel’s comportment changed instantly when she left. Xavier walked backward and clutched his cross. He said a silent prayer as the two men glared at each other.
“Stay out of this. This is no place for a priest. Your sister chose her path. I only help her along. Don’t mind that little drink I gave her. She likes it.”
Xavier stood, powerless to do anything.
“Father,” Marcel said mockingly. “May I make a confession? I offered her a small potion that gives her the power to love. You see, she told me about how much tradition constrains her. I took that to mean that she wanted whatever help possible. So I give her that drink, you see, to free her mind. Just a Haitian remedy I learned on some of my travels.”
Xavier bumped into the wall. His
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