9 Tales Told in the Dark 7 Read online

  “Does this lady have a moment to dance?” Jonathon asked. He said this in order to free them from gossipers whose appreciation of Juliet’s work had suddenly deemed her one of them.

  She smiled and he escorted her further onto the dance floor. Comments about the young couple’s future were made, but they were eager to escape and did not bother to comment on their expected engagement.

  Juliet thanked Jonathon, as he took one hand and placed it above her waist.

  “You’re welcome, if you promise me…”

  Juliet knew what he wanted, “I won’t ever be like those women, I promise.”

  The songs changed, and as the pace quickened the two were forced apart. They spun and danced behind shoulders and heads trying to keep their eyes met. They shared a playful smile every time they almost met again and were pulled back away.

  Jonathon seized the only chance he had. Juliet felt a violent tug, which she soon forgave. In a held breath she found herself out on the large patio overlooking the river through the tree. Many others were avoiding the music, drinks in hand. The night air was warmer than the day had been. Thankfully, a breeze that seemed to continually flutter off the river had salvaged the muggy weather.

  “Almost warm enough to take a dip.” Jonathon leaned over the railing. He peered east where the water rushing around the pump house met in a furious rapid.

  “There go those men again.” Juliet noticed two of the original intruders outside staring up towards the sky.

  “The stars didn’t come out tonight, did you forget to tell them what time the dance was?”

  “I wonder what they are up to.”

  “I’m afraid it might rain tonight.” Jonathon tried his best to move the conversation elsewhere.

  Juliet remained silent for a moment. She knew Jonathon was not going to tell her so she decided on an act of cunning.

  “You will wait for me here. I must be a moment.” She forced a bashful glance away. “May I bring you wine upon my return?”

  “Please, but hurry, some of my parent’s friends might seize the opportunity and imprison me in a dreadful conversation.”

  “Here they come now.” She walked away. Back indoors, she headed towards the bathroom until she was certain her blonde curls were lost in the crowded dance floor.

  She exited the two main doors and turned to head down into the room where the loud pump tried to be heard over the music. Every step she took was conscious. She didn’t want the gentlemen to know she had come to spy on them. She had not yet devised a story for if she was seen. Every possible excuse could be easily refuted because having prepared the night then she would know good and well no extra wine was being stored below. She would know she was only allowed in the dance hall like the other guests. So Juliet just had to go undetected.

  She always imagined herself in a castle when she was in the Pump House, and now she imagined she was descending into the dungeon, the dungeon where it smelled like hot August mud and grease.

  Their voices were at a normal tone, but the loud pump made them but whispers to Juliet. She could hear them from the entrance and see the light where they were convened. She slipped against the wall. Her hands touched the grooves of each stone brick until she was behind the large pump and used it to conceal her movement towards them. Their words started to become clear, but only catching a word here or there, Juliet could not make out what their conversation was about. Through the gears she caught a glimpse of the men.

  They stood shoulder to shoulder and appeared draped in a robe rather than their fine suits she had seen them in earlier. Candlelight sketched their faces in the darkness. She watched their lips and realized why she could not understand their conversation. They were all speaking at the same time about different things.

  Terrible things.

  A man rose from the center of them. He stripped down naked. If she had not seen otherwise his profile would’ve told her he was pregnant. His round belly did not match his thin frame. But his chest…

  No. Juliet could see the man’s beard was false—because he removed that as well. He was a woman. But why was she disguised as a man?

  They began to draw upon the womb with the dripping wax of their candles. Juliet reminded herself, these men were not Christian. She had heard of Black Masses, witchcraft, and the league of the Satan, but she did not believe people existed that would dare such defiance against God.

  Did they know they were being watched?

  They stopped, every head crept over a shoulder and peered into the darkness, behind the pump, at the entrance: Juliet’s exit. The woman pulled a robe back over her and dropped back behind the men. Juliet worried that she was seen. But their eyes seemed not to stop at her, but continued past her. They stared right through her. She held her breath, afraid to make any sound.

  The tallest of them strutted forward as if to see who dared break into his home.

  The candlelight ceased.

  Someone else entered.

  “Juliet?”

  Her name came from Jonathon. He waved a lantern across the pump room. She couldn’t move. His lantern came across the group of men.

  “Pardon me.” He started to back up the steps. Juliet wanted to run out and run back to the dance, or better back to her home.

  “Do not leave. I am sure we will help you find her.” The voice came from behind Jonathon. The tallest man from the group pressed Jonathon forward. “She came down here.” The tall man did not question it. He stated it.

  “I do not know.” Jonathon said. His lantern was the only light guiding them toward the group.

  “Perhaps she is among us?” He took Jonathon and the group encircled them both. All Juliet could see were the silhouettes of the backs of their heads. She stopped holding her breath, her heart raced, pushing up against her squirming shoulders. The silhouette she recognized as Jonathon’s dropped out of view.

  She screamed.

  It did not carry above to where the music played loud enough to drown out the countless conversations. In the pump room, her scream silenced all but the rushing waters.

  Before she could stop, her arms and legs were carted away from her hiding place. She was laid across the pump and the tall man inspected her. She could not see Jonathon. She called for him over and over again.

  “Can you hold your tongue?” the tall man asked.

  Her face streamed. Her pleas for Jonathon flowed from her eyes.

  The tall man knew she would talk. Juliet knew she would soon be dead.

  “You shouldn’t have been so curious.” He ran his fingers, redirected her tears. Through the ceiling the music went soft, a slow tune announcing one of the final dances. Juliet had expected to be in Jonathon’s arms—her cheek against his.

  She reared back, and kicked at the most opportune time. She dislodged the killing blade from the tall man’s hand and dropped to her knees out of the grasp of the men who had pinned her to the pump. She dashed away to her only exit. Her dress caught her foot and she fell. Her knees hit first, and then her elbows. She turned her head and met the stone floor with her cheek. Her head rang, her body ready to shatter. She could not lift herself back to her feet.

  “Grab her, we’ll toss her in the river.”

  She scrambled. She screamed for help. Her voice cracked. Her hair was yanked back, back into a robed man’s arms.

  They muffled her screams and tied her hands and feet. She tried to roll away but rolled into him. She cried for Jonathon.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Curious like the cat.” The tall man bent down and looked her over. His thick goatee scratched her forehead. He ran his finger across it and presented it bloody to her. He tasted it. “You don’t even know why we are down here.”

  She looked away, accidentally looking at the lifeless Jonathon next to her.

  She turned back and spit into the tall man’s face.

  “I will haunt you until the day you die.” She swore to him.

  He answered back. “I dare you.
”

  “Tell her,” Someone in the group whispered. The voice was desperate the second time she heard it. Juliet almost recognized it.

  “We run this city. In a matter of hours, the party will be looking for you and your lover. Your bodies will be washed up on Reedy’s Creek. Another set of drowning victims.” He added one last word: “unless.”

  The pump thrust and kept them quiet for a moment.

  “No, if I tell you anymore, then we have to kill you.”

  Juliet said words she had never spoken before. She cursed them all.

  “I was wrong to say we ran this city. No, young sweet Juliet, we serve all of Richmond.” He knew her name. “Your parents, his parents. We provide so that your good families can dance the nights away, safe from what is here.”

  The pump whined.

  “Oh, not here.” He tried to correct the fear upon Juliet’s eyes. “Perhaps you could commit yourself to our pact.” He leaned away from her and listened to the sounds of the river, the faint sound of music swayed his head.

  “The child she bears secretly, is one of many. A sacrifice. Our penance to the evil that curses this place. With no record of the child, no child is missed. No mother or father to love it, it goes willingly to the slaughter, a fatted calf.”

  “It must be.” The woman with the false beard said. “You must believe us.”

  “You would kill me anyway!” Juliet struggled again.

  “Not if you helped them,” the woman said.

  The tall man just sneered. He knew it was a waste of time.

  “Go drown her, and let the river carry them away.”

  She was dragged in a fit to where the water ran through. They lifted her body by her head, pulling her over towards the rushing water. That familiar voice whispered in her ear.

  “Forgive us, but it has to be, in Heaven may God let you forgive us, Juliet.”

  Juliet’s face felt the cold water cut her face as she was submerged.

  She could no longer hear the music. She tried to breathe.

  ><><

  Even Jonathon had had a better time. But he never stopped introducing his new bride, his sweet Juliet. Juliet on the other hand felt quite out of breath. New Orleans was quite a different atmosphere than her home of Richmond, Virginia. She tugged his arm and Jonathon left the street magician to his card tricks.

  “Wasn’t that amazing, he knew my card.”

  “I’d say so.” Juliet teased.

  “Your new husband is a Joker?”

  “Oh, I thought it was a fool.”

  Jonathon laughed. “I must be.”

  “It was. Those were tarot cards.”

  It made no difference to Jonathon he was getting hungry and the smell of Cajun spices commanded his pace. He walked beyond what Juliet found comfortable to keep up with. On the street they passed an old Negro woman whose eyes watched them intently.

  “She must be the cook.” Jonathon’s mood never suffered an ugly face.

  “Look at her sign.” Juliet whispered and pointed out the wooden board painted in purple letters: ‘Mamma Voodoo.’

  “Now that could be fun, the question is, do we go on an empty stomach? She could warn us which restaurant’s food will end our honeymoon on a sour note.” He pulled his arm in and Juliet was left with no option but to follow him onto the step of Mamma Voodoo’s.

  The woman looked them over and stepped behind the curtain. They were both surprised this was all the building had for a door. Inside the harsh scent of burned incense and wax pinned them against the wall of the thin hallway towards another curtain. Juliet cringed as Jonathon pestered the woman with questions on candle making and how long she had lived here. The woman was keen to offer a sense of theatrics as she responded, “All my life.” Next she said, “Money upfront.” And meant it.

  Juliet watched her husband have no regard for his money once again this evening. Mamma Voodoo scraped the bills off the table with haste and shoved it into her dress. She looked at the two and held out her hands. Then demanded theirs.

  “Just married, of course, can see that on your face, smell it on her, fresh blood.”

  Juliet reddened.

  The woman clenched down on their hands.

  “Empty.” She looked each one over separately. “Did you know you were empty?”

  Jonathon squandered laughter and Juliet had no clue.

  “You two are without souls. You have died before.”

  “Have we? I don’t think so, dear?” Jonathon turned to Juliet.

  “You have. You bear a scar on just under your left ribcage.”

  “Wrong.” Jonathon smirked.

  Juliet dreamt of Jonathon’s stomach and ran her hand along it.

  “It’s his right side.” Juliet said.

  “Don’t help her, you take the fun out of it.” Jonathon nudged her. But Juliet wasn’t playing she felt a strange truth to the woman’s words.

  “Your souls have been taken. Imprisoned.”

  “That’s fine but what’s my future?” Jonathon shrugged her off.

  “Stop!” Juliet screamed.

  “Your future? Your Future! It is one without children, with days spent wondering why the emptiness you feel in your marriage never went warm and fuzzy as you expected it to once the nerves wore off. Once you got the hang of it. Your Future! Bleak and obvious, and a death with no return once your bodies have expired.”

  “I’ll have my money back.” Jonathon got up and held his hand out, as politely as one could in such a situation. Juliet pulled his hand back, but he thrust it back out. Mamma Voodoo gave it with no hesitation. The crumpled bills started to unfold in his palm. He just held them out in front of her and glared at her while Juliet tried to make him leave.

  “What do you mean?” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Just as I have said.”

  Jonathon turned his hand over and the crumpled bills floated down to the table.

  Juliet’s voice crept forward with hesitation, “Can we get them back?”

  “Your souls? Not likely. Only a great witch doctor is capable, and there are none here who can serve you.”

  “Then what are you?” Jonathon asked.

  “I’m a seer and an entrepreneur.” She smiled. “You were so filled with doubt a moment ago. What changed your mind?” She smiled wider. “I won’t tell her.”

  Juliet reached out and held his hand. “I don’t either. I know I’m supposed to but I don’t.”

  Jonathon’s eyes welled. He shot his eyes to his crumbled money until he gained control and not a tear was spilled. “I did want to marry you,” he said as a consolation.

  “And I you.” Juliet said. There was no love between the two. They had lost it somewhere, but neither had the nerve to break the other’s heart.

  “Home in Richmond, your souls are bound, trapped in a drowning pool. But you can’t just reach in and pull them out. It’s not even as easy as catching a fish with your bare hands. A drowning pool can be as small as a cup of water on your bedside table, or as wide as all the oceans. Whoever took your souls did so for a reason, and has imprisoned that memory. Imprisoned your whole minds. You cannot go back, they will use you against each other. And it will all make sense to you when they do. They may not kill you, because your souls are worth more while your body is lives. Whatever voodoo they practice your souls empower.”

  “The pump house.” Juliet said. “It was the last time. That I remember loving you.” She gripped his hand apologizing once again.

  “The night you said ‘yes.’” Jonathon said.

  “Before that. When we hung the decorations.”

  “It never happened.” Mamma Voodoo said. “That was the night you died.”

  “There has to be a way, where can we find someone who can help us.”

  “I told you, do not return home. You are the zombie, the walking dead now. Whoever has your soul controls you.” Her warning caused a long pause. The young couple could not fathom where their lives would head now, if any
where.

  ><><

  Jonathon packed his bags ferociously. Juliet stood over their bed. “She said not to go back.”

  Jonathon didn’t bother to argue, he finished packing and strapped his case shut. He flung it down by his side and tried to kiss her, but when their lips touched there was no kiss; only the flesh of two estranged. But Jonathon remembered what it had been like.

  “I can’t live like this. We can’t live like this.”

  She stepped away from him and finally spoke what she had been thinking since she found out. “Then die with me.”

  She repeated herself.

  “Our souls will meet again. You heard her, our souls won’t be worth much when we’re dead.”

  Jonathon sat on the edge of the bed and let his case fall onto its side. His arms draped over his knees. Juliet sat down next to him and laid her head on his shoulder. He could remember her love.

  “I remember, don’t you? Isn’t that worth trying for?”

  “I want to love you. But…”

  Jonathon knew she was going to remind him they would turn them against each other if they tried to get their souls back. “How do you know they aren’t telling you to give up now?”

  He promised her he would see her again.

  ><><

  Winter ended in Richmond, only spots of brown snow still sat in the cold crevices where the sidewalks meet the streets. The feet of passengers slapped cold cement as they fled the rail car from Highland Park. Jonathon woke again on the outskirts of Jackson Ward. He was a stranger in these parts. The community of Negroes had done well without his kind and was keeping it that way. But Jonathon needed them. He brushed the snot from off his chapped lips. He needed hot soup or coffee.

  A beautiful woman offered to buy him his breakfast. Her curly blonde hair kept her warm, except for the tip of her nose, which was red. Juliet smiled for him, hoping he would look up from his bowl.

  “You are going to die if you keep this up. I’m worried about you.” She begged. “Please come home.”

  Jonathon sniffled and slurped more soup. “They won’t let me die.” His smile was twisted.