Vivienne's parents found the perfect house. A stunning Nineteenth Century Victorian at Rue Renaud, in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.
One of those houses with personality and vibe; good enough to charm even a reluctant teen into moving to what she dubbed th...
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"Thisss is as far as I can take you. We are at the center of it all." Wedo spoke to the vastness ahead of them, rearranging reality as he did. "The man that travels with me belongs to the living, and to life he mussst return. Now, open the roads, so the living can meet the dead."
Gabriel looked around, trying to make sense of the place before him. They found themselves at a crossroad with no end in sight. Out of each pathway, north, south, east and west, smaller roads spread outwards, half hidden in thick mist.
Wedo pointed to the grayish sky. His thin fingers traced the shape of a crescent moon.
"Light is not a constant here. That'sss why we must bring it from outside sourcesss. Back there, I asked the both of you if you loved one another. I hope, for your sssake that the answers were given in truth."
Stretching his arm into the void, the oracle pulled out the fine silvery dust crafted from Daria's tears. With all care, the boy bathed the trace of the moon he had drawn on the skies above in the dust. The sickle moon sparkled, separating shadow from light in the narrow roads ahead. "See?" The boy spoke with such excitement that his serpentine pattern was almost lost. "Ssshe loves you well. She'll guide you through."
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"What are we to do with our time, Daria? I know you still fear, and question my every move. What I don't know is whether you are learning something from it because you have been fearless for so long." Brigitte thought about pouring another shot, but on second thought, opened a glass jar that contained pecan sweets, and offered one to Daria. "Here's for the girl you used to be. The one we loved so dearly."
"I don't fear you, Lady. You got that wrong. I fear crossing over before I have the time to tell my daughter everything I have to tell her. I fear that the curse that I made up for myself might become true for my flesh, and I will die without seeing what Vivienne will become. Or even worse, that she'll die, wondering what her mother really was, that reason behind my madness she longed to uncover."
"Mothers and daughters are a mystery to me," Brigitte contemplated. " I was just born into this land, the blood that runs in my veins has been diluted by oceans. The songs I carry in my head were long gone before I learned them. I don't know if there's a version of me out there, somewhere in West Africa that is better, bolder, or brighter. I don't have to honor her because my story is the story of the children who were taken away from her. A new mother, shaped for a new land. Born knowledgeable, and ready."
"But I understand the fear. You are afraid of being gone and leaving the world worse than you found it because she's the one who'll have to live in it. It's a fear that shared by all generations. I should know."
Her voice softened, and for the first time since she met them in that back store, Brigitte felt warm. Welcoming, blissful death. When her hand touched Daria's the woman felt a presence she hadn't in years.
