Augusta Fern's Blog - Posts Tagged "explanation"

I approach the palatial two story Garden District house of Babet’s friend, located on Felicity, not far from highway 91 and my warehouse. I run my hand across the top of the wrought iron fence posts before pushing the gate aside to pass into the landscaped front garden; the cobblestones beneath my feet meet the tread of my boot conspicuously.

The house is unfathomable and expansive from the side view. The front is wide, with help from its giant wrap-around front porch. Scrolled wrought iron connects pillared columns to support the vast awning above which is intricately designed. I look up further, the upstairs is blessed with the same treatment, and it is also adorned pillars and scrolled wrought iron to hold up the balcony. The house is painted white, the shutters are green downstairs. The trim around the French doors upstairs matches and there are four green rocking chairs painted the same green look down from up there.

Along the roof, I notice three chimneys protruding it. The closer I get to the front door I see to my far right another door leading to sitting sun room, high-end wicker furniture with brightly colored throw pillows sit arranged inside.

My attentions are diverted back to the front door where I see Babet through the thick glass fumbling with the knob and a muffled angelic voice, “Just…a minute, uh…..” I look down, at my feet a mat with an elaborate W printed in the fibers, the lock clicks back into the carved notch in the door and the knob turns. The heavy wooden door flies open and Babet stands cradling her son in a towel, attempting to balance the sopping excited baby. She is dressed in a brand new pair of jeans and gray V neck man’s undershirt, her black cherry hair pulled up to a ponytail. She staggered backwards allowing me entry.

“Good Evening.” I said looking into her brilliant green eyes as I cross the threshold. She was waiting for me, watching for my arrival. I present the little bath toy.

“Come in.” she said still smiling.
She laughs and holds out a hand to take it from me, our fingers graze and I feel the spark radiate. “Ah-ha, see Henri…here is ducky.” She says to the little boy squirming in her arms apparently unaffected as I. “Could have used this, where did we leave it?” She directs her attention back to me. She plays into Henri’s game, swinging him around before securing him, closing the door to face me.

“I found it in the bathroom upstairs at Audubon. By the way, it’s good to see you smiling,” I said as I stepped foot onto the dark wooden floors into the heavily crown molded foyer, immediately I see the first of three fireplaces, this one is marble with a heavy white mantle. This house is very old to have a fireplace in the foyer. I turn back to face Babet and as I do my head scathes the chandelier overhead.

“Yeah, no matter what’s going on in my life, the kids always make me smile.” She said snuggling her nose into the baby’s neck, nuzzling him until he cooed and then cackled. “Especially this one.” And she snuggled the boy again before saying, “Uh, so….what information do you need from me? I mean, of course I told Estella everything I know and remember about the night Griffin left...disappeared.” She seemed flustered as she corrected herself. It is clear to me she is not interested in discussing her reasons for leaving our safe house.

For a brief awkward moment we were both silent, I can’t help but stare, she becomes as fidgety as the little one in her arms. She hikes the boy further onto her body. “Well, make yourself comfortable I’m going to dress him for bed.” I watch as she turns down a small hallway and strode up a narrow staircase, like the first night I saw her at her shop in the Quarter. She clutched the boy, who stared back down at me over his mothers shoulder until his chubby hands carelessly gripped and examined a lock of her black cherry hair.

She had no idea of the effect her mere presence had on me, her very smell an intoxicating plethora of Lavender and Rose hips, hinted only to my ancient nose, mixed with the smell of fresh paint.

I stepped into this room and that room, all decorated precisely to Frankie’s obviously specific modern style, I smile internally at the same yet egregiously larger print of the Moonwalk photo as Audubon framed and mounted on the wall and I deduce that Frankie and Marcus don’t have children. The house is too immaculate and seems as though it stays that way.

I wander into a long drawing room where the second fireplace sat center two couches on either side facing each other, adjacent to a much modernized kitchen; cream, off white antique style French farmhouse cabinetry surround stainless steel appliances and black granite countertops.

A surprise to my old ears I hear the soothing melody of the 1940’s hit, “I’ll be seeing you” plays from an under the cabinet radio and I decide to sit on one of the overstuffed cream colored couches, I move the orange and blue pillows to one side while I enjoy the blend of the digitally restored song and Babet playfully dress Henri overhead, I can heard the baby squeal with delight from upstairs.

Babet comes down with the boy saddled to her hip, I can hear her padding through the house, possibly looking for me but I observe as she passes me by, she found what she was looking for, a baby cup in her hand. Her mood seemed determined and unwavering. I watch meticulously as she moves about the kitchen.

Open the refrigerator, pull out the milk, untwist the cup top, and place it on the counter. Pour the milk, return it to the refrigerator. Replace the cap on the cup. All while balancing Henri on her hip. She smiles at me when she returns with the baby, the cup now residing in his little hands, he grips the blue and red cup adorned with cars, turning it until finally placing the sipper in his mouth. He settles into his mother’s lap as she sits on the opposite couch; across from me.

I was glad, she was as far away from me as possible, her scent stronger than I had anticipated. She made herself comfortable and propped Henri up as he was clearly enjoying his beverage. Once she had the baby situated she turned her gaze expectantly for me to instigate conversation. I oblige her.
“Are you aware of what our purpose is here, in your life?” I asked keeping my tone indifferent.

She focuses on me, “Yes, and I appreciate all you both… you all, have done for us, but I have to ask, Why? Which is kind of why I bolted last night…this morning” and her gaze went from me to Henri, and back to me again, waiting for an answer.
“I thought…..How much did Estella make you aware of?”

She took a deep breath and rattled off the list from memory.
“I would assume everything. Firstly, which originally got my attention, other than the fact that she is absolutely stunning; she said my husband’s disappearance may be more than that, something supernatural. That she is my descendant. And Griffin’s. Which is rather creepy but interesting. She explained her connection to PGT Beauregard; which is kind of tragically romantic. She also mentioned she was a….” Babet’s intense focus on the conversation was disturbed as she glanced down at her baby who had fallen asleep, the sipper of the cup teetering halfway out of his heart shaped mouth.

Babet removed the cup from Henri’s listless grasp, placing it on the giant teak coffee table between us. She readjusted the baby’s position and continued her thought. “She was, is, a…vampire. And, that you are also a vampire.”

The words escaped her lips and her facial expression morphed from humor at the thought of such a concept and then distress of said concept. Although her face showed these emotions, her body language indicated complete comfort. She didn’t exude the fear I usually detect from humans when in my presence. So much so, that she carefully scooted herself to the edge of the couch cradling the sleeping baby and excused herself to put the boy upstairs. She returned, falling into the overstuffed couch, with a heavy sigh.

“Does it frighten you?” I said as I turned my head from staring down at my hands.

“Should it? Estella said I was completely safe with you.” She replied confused but not fearful, her radiant green eyes boring into me.

“No…I mean yes, of course you are safe.” I paused after a tiny laugh, thinking as my brow furrowed and I changed the subject. “Why? You asked, correct?” I twisted my body on the couch to give her my full attention and took a deep breath preparing to not only frighten this woman beyond recognition but to caution her to the situation. But tonight she was different; she was curious and inquisitive; not horrified like most humans. Maybe she’s slowly accepting of this situation, Estella and her story. Maybe it’s the familiar surroundings; she has me on her “turf”. Whatever it may be I was thankful for the small beginnings, the tiny fibers of trust slowly come together to weave my quilt of defense. I will shelter her.

“Yes.” The word stung like a dagger in my heart.

“First, you are a direct descendant of a living, well, existing vampire. A vampire that has kept distant watch over her family for generations and will continue to do so for future generations.” I say matter-of-factly, but in the back of my mind I think, “If we survive this.”

“Second, we believe. That is our Queen, has reason to believe that you are the target of a vampire’s desire.” I had never spoken words more true, but I was thinking only of myself when I said them, not the creature stalking her every move.

“Desire?” her face squeezed up as she took it in.

I nodded and begin to elaborate.