Yvette asked, incredulous. "Yes. He didn't hurt me. Mama says he's a lonely soul.
Punished for being too much like a Greek god. The story she remembers from her grandmere is, the day he finds someone who can see the goodness in his heart and love him for that and not for his good looks, that's the day he can return to the world to live out his life, but . . ."
"But what?" Evelyn asked.
"Yes, but what?" Yvette followed.
"But whoever does love him that way dies and takes his place in the swamp. It's sort of an exchange of souls for a while."
"How horrible."
"And dangerous," Yvette said. "You had better not go into the swamp alone so much."
"I don't," I said. "As much."
"I don't know if that counts," Evelyn declared after a moment's thought. "Kissed by a ghost isn't the same thing as being kissed by a live man."
"How do you know?" Yvette said. "Only Gabriel knows for sure."
"It felt wonderful at the time," I replied. "Now, remember. You swore on Saint Medad, and if you violate this oath, you might bring bad luck to your husbands."
They were wide-eyed. The daughter of a traiteur had some credibility when it came to this sort of thing.
"I'll never tell," Yvette said.
"Me neither."
"I got to go home. See you tomorrow."
"Oui. See you tomorrow," Evelyn said.
I watched them hurry off and then continued down the road. In my heart I wished that what had happened to me yesterday was what I had described to them. It was my fantasy, and for a while at least, I would use it to cloak the ugly truth.
When I arrived home, I found Mama doing just what I feared she would be doing: slaving over the stove, chaining herself to the kitchen to prepare for my graduation celebration. She told me she had already sent word to a dozen of her friends and people she often treated.
"Some are offering to make food, too. It's going to be a great party, honey. We'll have music and loads of good food."
"I wish you wouldn't do this, Mama."
"Let's not start that again. It's my time in the sun and it should be your father's time, too."
"Has he been home?"
"Not that I know," she replied, and dove into her labor of love to keep from thinking and being angry. Seeing I was not going to change her mind, I offered to help, but she refused to permit it.
"It's your party. You earned it; you just enjoy yourself," she insisted. I couldn't stand by and watch her work, so I went out to our dock and sat with my feet dangling in the water, watching and hoping for the sight of Daddy poling his pirogue up the canal to home. But he never came. At dinner Mama was mumbling to herself something awful.
"That man has gone bad, gone sour like warm milk. Nothing's going to change him. He'll be the death of all of us. Truth is, I hope he never comes home," she declared, but I knew she was heartbroken about it. She sat on the gallery in her rocker after dinner and glared at the darkness, waiting for one of those shadows to take Daddy's form.
I put the finishing touches on my graduation dress and put it on to show Mama. She shook her head and smiled.
"You're so beautiful, Gabriel, it makes my heart pound."
"Oh, Mama, I'm not. And besides, you told me dozens of times that pride's a sin."
"You don't have to go overboard and fall in love with yourself, but you can be thankful and happy you've been blessed with such natural beauty. You don't understand," she added when I looked down and blushed. "You're my redemption. When I look at you, at least I can feel something good came out of my marriage to that scoundrel we call your daddy."
I looked up sharply. "He tries to be good, doesn't he, Mama? He thinks about it."
"The most I can say for him, honey, is it's beyond him. It's in his blood. The Landrys were probably first cousins to Cain." She sighed. "I got no one to blame but myself for the pot I'm boiling in," she said.
"But if the Landry blood is so powerful and evil, won't I be evil, too, Mama?" I asked fearfully.
"No," she said quickly. "You got my blood in you, too, don'tcha?"
"Yes,