Voodoo Queens of New Orleans - Vol. I | ✓

Chapter 57: The Gift of Darkness

**

For some reason, I felt like I had been waiting for this meeting with Abraham my entire life.

Walking towards the balcony after the meeting was over, this feeling of forbiddance deep within me as I had snuck off while the Coterie was not looking, I felt like I was reaching the end of the race and near claiming my prize. But what prize was there to claim from him? Knowledge? Deceit? I was unsure. I wouldn't find out until I opened the balcony door in front of me.

The balcony had to be reached by entering the master bedroom, which was, of course, unused and completely empty, save for a bed and a dresser, both covered with a white sheet. The room was completely dark, and the only source of light came from the moon outside shining through the balcony doors.

I closed the bedroom door gently behind me and looked ahead. Abraham was outside, standing by the railing and looking out into the night. He knew I was here, despite my attempt at stealth. Looking over my shoulder to ensure I wasn't followed, I turned the knob on the balcony door and welcomed the warm air on my skin. The sounds of the insects and birds were the only things that accompanied us; the trees seemed to loom over us.

I closed the balcony door behind me, but I didn't walk towards him, yet. I still didn't know his intentions yet, regardless of whether I was his kin or not.

"I remember my first time visiting this house," Abraham said, his back still facing me. "It was occupied by different owners at the time, newly built—the Beaumonts. I walked through these halls, looked out the windows at the sugar cane fields. At the men, women and children the Beaumont's owned who worked those fields; the women they owned that worked in this house. The master's wife made us sit and watch the slaves dance to a fiddle after dinner right where you and me danced. My people, dancing to the master's tune, their faces hung low and tired. That's when I knew I had to save them. As many as I could. There was one boy—"

"Why are you telling me this story?" I asked him. At this question, Abraham finally turned around to face me. He looked even more threating in the moonlight; his domain.

He smiled. "Small talk," he answered.

"Or you want me to see you differently than how you've been painted?"

Abraham laughed. "I don't care how they been 'painting' me to you. And I ain't never been one to boast about what I've done, neither. Sometimes, I like to just reflect." He looked up at the moon. "Reflect on how far I come, and how far I got left to go. I've waited years for this day."

He looked back at me, his hands behind his back. "You know who I am?" he asked me.

There was a stretch of silence before I could bring myself to answer. "You're my father," I said to him.

Abraham's smile seemed to stretch wider. He chuckled to himself, then, began to pace around the balcony. "I never knew the day I'd hear you say it."

"So, you've been waiting?" I said. "Waiting for me to find out on my own? Why?"

"Because, it ain't my job to expedite fate's process," he answered. "Every monumental moment of my life has come to me, I ain't been running towards nothing. I just had to let everything play out the way it s'possed to. I knew you were s'possed to find out about me on your own, so I waited. And now the day has come. Which means I ain't too far now."

"Far from what?"

He only stared at me then, in an "I'm not telling" manner. Knowing he wouldn't disclose anything pertaining to how "far" he was from what, I left it behind and moved on; I was alone with Abraham. I could ask him anything I wanted without the interruption of Hezekiah or The Coterie.