Page 26 of Frankly, My Dear

“How will I know when the time is right and what I should do?”

“I will tell you.”

“How?”

Marie Laveau make a tsk-ing sound of disapproval at Selene’s persistent questioning. “I will send you a message with directions.”

“Will I have to be standing on the same spot in New Orleans?”

The woman shook her head. “The magic knows no boundaries—of time or place. You may go with Mr. Baptiste to his plantation.”

Selene was not terribly surprised that the voodoo woman knew of her plans to leave New Orleans.

“Oui, ’tis best to leave the city,” she continued. “Much danger awaits you here.”

Selene thought immediately of Victor.

Marie Laveau took two jars off the shelf behind her and gently shook out two mounds of seeds onto pieces of parchment—one white pile, one black. Then she folded them over and twisted the ends tightly. Handing them to Selene, she advised, “I will send you a wax doll like the one Lilith used. When you prepare to enter the time door, you must wear the ballgown and hold the doll in your hands, with one seed pressed into the wax for each year you want to travel—black forward, white backward.” She looked intently at Selene. “Do you understand?”

Selene nodded hesitantly. “You mean I can go to whatever year I want, either backward or forward in time?”

“Oui.”

“But that’s remarkable. Have you met other people who’ve come from another time?”

Marie Laveau smiled enigmatically, but refused to answer.

Selene quickly left the small house, almost tripping over a sleeping cat the size of a ten-pound sack of potatoes. Inexplicably, she harbored no doubts in her mind that Marie Laveau was correct in all she had said. And Selene felt reassured by the black woman’s words that she would not have to remain in the city to return to her own time. Now she could go to James’s plantation with some degree of certainty that she wouldn’t be closing the time door behind her.

When Selene entered the cool restaurant, she searched the dimness for James and found him sitting alone near the back at a small table. She slipped into a chair opposite him. James eyed her questioningly as he sipped a glass of green liquid—that potent Creole liquor called absinthe. And it wasn’t yet noon.

“You drink too much,” she remarked without thinking.

“You talk too much.”

“Don’t you want to know what happened with Ms. Laveau?” She felt oddly hurt that he didn’t show some stronger emotion at her return, particularly after their special kiss. Apparently it had affected her a lot more than him.

He gave her an indifferent look. “You’re still here. Was she out of brooms?”

“Yeah. Looks like you’re stuck with me.” Selene smiled tentatively, trying to hide her bruised feelings. She explained all that Marie Laveau had told her, emphasizing the importance of safeguarding her ballgown. “Will you take me with you now?” she asked as she slipped a hand into her dress pocket, guiltily patting the seed packets, which she’d failed to mention.

He studied her for several long moments, his eyes brilliantly intelligent and unfathomable. “I shouldn’t.”

“I promise to do my best with your son…and your mother.”

He scrutinized her steadily, unconvinced.

“How long will you want me to work for you? It appears I won’t have to return to New Orleans, if what Ms. Laveau says is true.” She wrung her hands, knowing she was rambling. “But perhaps you’ll want me to stay only for a short time, until this problem with your brother Victor blows over.”

Selene forgot momentarily that just a short time ago she’d been wondering whether she even wanted to return to the future.

He looked surprised at her question. “I thought I told you, my plantation is in a remote bayou, four days by boat from New Orleans to Terrebonne Parish, beyond Bayou La Fourche.”

Selene frowned. “I thought your home was only about a hundred miles away.”

“Oh, it’s not so far as the bird flies,” he added, sensing her confusion, “but the streams are sometimes nearly impenetrable, and there are no roads, for the most part. Once there, you will have to stay…for a time.”

“How long?” she asked suspiciously. “When will you come back to New Orleans again?”