“Damn. I’m sorry to hear that Micah,” he said truly sorry for the man. “I liked Mack. I’m sure it’s just that damn flu going around. I hope you feel better. Do you need me to do anything at your place this week?”
“No, no,” he said breaking into a coughing fit. “It should be fine. Take care of yourself, Harm.”
“Will do,” he said waving at the other man. He watched him leave and went back inside to take a hot shower and get some rest.
“The flu is the last thing I need.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Hezekiah hadn’t felt so free in all his life. Or death. He was able to move around freely, speak to the living and the dead, and yet didn’t have to worry about being cold or hot, hungry or thirsty. Yet somehow in the magic that was this place, he could eat food should he desire.
There were at least a dozen medical journals laid out before him as he sought to help the medical staff here at Belle Fleur. It had been the whole purpose of coming so many years ago. He was helping with an outbreak of pox.
The old witch lived in the bayou somewhere and she had a daughter. She wished for him to marry her but Hezekiah refused. It wasn’t that the girl wasn’t beautiful, she certainly was. But he was not ready for a wife or children.
He needed to get his practice established and Mr. Robicheaux was helping to introduce him to the people in the area and had given him access to the magnificent gardens.
Yes, he was on his way to a wonderful life when the old witch began throwing accusations at him.
“He promised to marry my daughter!”
“He was alone in the gardens with her last night!”
No one believed her. She was, after all, crazy and believed to be a witch or at the very least, voodoo. When she found him at Belle Fleur, pausing to gaze as he walked by the mirror, she called him vain.
“Madam, I assure you I am not a vain man. I’m merely admiring the beauty of the mirror. It’s exquisite as anyone can see. I should like to inquire from Mr. Robicheaux where it was purchased.”
“I don’t believe you!” she spat. “You’re a vain man who believes that my daughter is not good enough for you. She’s more than you could ever hope for!”
“Mother,” whispered the young woman walking into the room in a beautiful blue silk dress. He swallowed, staring at her beauty, for the first time seeing it truly. “I’m sorry, doctor. Mother doesn’t mean the things she says.”
“I’m afraid she does mean them,” he smirked. “But I should very much like to convince her that I am not the man she believes me to be. You are a fine young woman. I am just not ready to become a husband.”
“I truly understand. Mother, please leave the doctor alone. I’ve been invited to lunch by Mrs. Hymel. She would like me to meet her son.”
“Mrs. Hymel? No. I forbid it! He’s nothing but a fisherman.”
“Mother, he’s a hardworking, fine man. I like him,” she said with a shy smile. Turning, she faced Hezekiah again and nodded with a smile. “Good day, doctor.”
The young woman left the room and Hezekiah turned, staring at the mirror once again.
“Just beautiful,” he whispered.
The old woman mumbled a few words, whispering to herself as she circled Hezekiah. He tried to move from where he stood but it was as if his feet were glued to the floor.
In a puff of smoke and mist, suddenly he was facing the opposite direction. He stared at the old woman, hearing her cackling laughter and then stepped forward, running into the glass.
“What is this? What magic have you done?” he asked.
“You will be cursed for eternity to live in that mirror. Your only hope is for innocent love to release you.”
Those were the last words he heard from the woman. She never appeared in the house again and Mr. Robicheaux was horrified to see him there.
Over the years, Martha, Franklin, and many others would visit him, engaging in long conversations about the ever-changing world outside the mirror.
The day that Trevon and his young son walked in, Hezekiah felt an ease in his chest that hadn’t been there in a long time. The baby, only a few months old, smiled at him, reaching out with a chubby hand.
He simply couldn’t resist, touching the glass where the babe touched. It was his miracle two-hundred years in the making.
