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Chapter 03
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The Passion Of Lovers Is For Death
(Preview)
Chapter 03 - The Passion Of Lovers Is For Death
"Master Gracey. I have no way to compensate you now; tickets for my circus would not be enough, and a hundred lions would not be enough. But the hand of my most gifted daughter will be exclusively for your future son”.
Months had passed since the unfortunate events with the Dread family at Gracey Manor. Edward Gracey stood in front of a bay window to the side of his piano in the library. It was a foggy, empty morning. The leaves of the trees wept drops from the sky.
“Sir. I warn you that it is an hour and a half to your meeting with the party.” Xavier lets his master Gracey know. He had been accepted by a private society where the upper class community met to discuss and take various acts about the people of New Orleans. That very evening was the first time he was going to meet with them. Despite his lack of excitement and emotional instability, he seemed to feel somewhat anxious to meet his new companions. He turns to look at Xavier, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder and smiling, thanking him. Xavier walks away, while Gracey turns again to look out the window. Staring at the five busts on the graves of his departed relatives, his dark circles under his eyes are marked. What could be going through his mind that makes him so uneasy?
“Are you sure you're going out in this weather, Gracey?” Leota approaches him as he enters the room. He turns his back once more, this time to look at her.
“Good morning, Leota.” Gracey says with a pleasant smile on his face. “I thought you were going to sleep 'till later.”
“I just wanted to be with you a little longer before you leave.” Leota replies with a soft intonation. “Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?”
“Leota, dear. You know I'd really like to take you, but you know you can't come with me. I'm sorry to say this, but you wouldn't be welcome.” Gracey says disappointed, holding Leota firmly and gently by the shoulders.
Leota makes nothing more than a whimper followed by a sigh, closing her eyes, takes Gracey's hands and looks up at him. “I just hope you're not going to get rid of me after your meeting, remember how shallow the upper class are. Don't let them take you away from me, from who you are.”
“Is that what you're afraid of, my dear?” laughs Gracey nonchalantly. “You know me well, just like I know you. Nothing in this mansion will change. I promise.”
“Leota, you are the eyes that have changed my vision of this world.” Gracey approaches her slowly. His eyes lit up like torches in the gloomy darkness. There was no need to describe their expressions. The faces speak for themselves. Their breaths collided, after all that has happened so far, everything seemed to indicate something; even with many secrets kept under the door. She wraps her arms around the neck of such a master of the mansion. “Thank you for making me what I am.” Leota whispers in his ear just after slowly parting her lips away.
“I have to get going, Leota.” Sighs Gracey, separating from Leota. Coming to his senses about what had happened. He tucks on a dark green trench coat, a top hat and a cane adorned with a gold handle in the shape of a bat spreading its wings. Leaving the room, Leota goes to sit on the bench in front of the piano in the living room; looking at the chart of chords Gracey had left days before, he hadn't practiced the piano for weeks, something he used to do every day since he was a little boy.
Walking out the front door, Gracey on the porch meets his coachman Fred. “Good afernoon, Master Gracey, do you need a ride to your meeting?” asked Fred. Gracey agrees with a nod and a smile on his face, so that before long they both climb into the carriage and soon drive off as Fred gives his horse a whip. Leota from her bedroom window watches the carriage leave through the main gate of the mansion, so she goes downstairs, where Boris is folding some sheets on top of the dining room table. So she smiles.
“Well, good morning, Madame!” Boris says greets.
“Good morning to you” She returns the greeting as she passes without interrupting him.
“Anything new today?”
“What?” Leota asks.
“I was asking if there was anything new today, my dear?” she asks in a slightly louder voice. So Leota just pouts her lips and shakes her lips and keeps walking, so she interrupts her again. “Madame, have you by any chance noticed anything strange on the wallpaper in the corridor? The lilac” Boris asks curiously. Leota looks at Boris with an uneasy feeling, for that tapestry had begun to alter inexplicably since the Dread had passed away.
“I'm sorry, Boris. As far as I know, there is nothing wrong with it. It was simply the design that Master Gracey wanted to acquire” Leota replies casually. A little tired of thinking for a long time about what she wanted to hide about the strange feelings she felt about the mansion, despite its funereal past. Boris thinks he had made it all clear, so he just replied “Oh!” and thought “What strange tastes the master has”.
Leota enters the main hall, where she lights the fireplace under the huge portrait of the one everyone praised. Gracey. She pulls up a chair. Everything was very quiet, there was no noise at all, not even the swamp outside the mansion managed to tune its melodies, it seemed as if the world had gone to sleep. She looks at Gracey's portrait, the acrylics that formed the reddish smile of the master, his eyes blue as the sky, full of brightness and life; after all that time, it was more than reasonable Leota's feelings that she felt for that man.
“With or without powers, Leota, I only see you, I see a woman, I see a friend” were the words that had stuck with her the most since that first night they had met. “But how could he consider me his friend, if I only met him for an afternoon? Was he looking for something from me when he wanted to invite me to dinner? He helped me out of the blue, as if he was some kind of guardian angel”. Leota thought. “But I don't have any money. I only live on lies and deceit. I never saw those powers they always told about me, just because I belong to those people… but… he belongs to the same group of people who treated me as if I was just another thing. However, I am here, thanks to him. Edward is not like his family.” Leota felt a strong emotion, it seemed to feel like fury, so she gets up from her seat and punches a wall of the fireplace. But as she realized, she, seeing that man's face, remembering what happened, even after her family tragedy, she found the answer. Her love could no longer be hidden.
*
In the center of the city of New Orleans, Gracey walked dapperly, his modest posture showing with elegance through the cold streets of that damp morning. A walk had been decided to clear his mind of so many raw and dark thoughts, so he had asked Fred to let him come down many streets behind. He looks at his watch as he walks, so that he almost bumps into a little boy, who was running with his sister. “I'm so sorry, little boy, are you all right?” Gracey asks, so the boy stops to look at him and runs off with his sister. What rude children, he thought. But that couldn't kill the joy Gracey was trying to find on his way to his meeting with the town's millionaires. A luscious smell of freshly baked bread, prepared seafood wafting with its aroma carried by the ocean breeze. Jazz music was playing joyfully in the background, which could not form a single song, as it could be heard from different stations, which livened up the atmosphere, filling it with life. As much as he wanted to, Gracey could not get rid of his heaviness, there was nothing that could take the bitter taste out of his mind. From being full of joy, he had become a melancholic man. After all, he was not going to let himself be carried away by such emotion.
There it is! The hall of Gracey's meeting, everything indicated that this was the indicated address he had been told about. It was inside a two-storey restaurant, which was reserved from the public. Its entrance was chained and had very little view from the outside, but it was gleaming with gold and lead decorations. ‘Tree tavern’ was the sign hanging in gold lettering. Gracey decided to approach, where a guard stood watch outside the place in front of the entrance. He saw again the boy he had bumped into earlier, but this time from a distance, running. Gracey smiles at the sight of them, seeing them enjoying their life, it made him remember moments from his childhood; moments he could never have, being almost impossible to get back. He tried to focus again on their reunion, but his sight was blurred by the direction in which those infants were running.
“What is the reason for these children running around, are they looking for their mother, or is there something surprising that amuses them in the direction they are going?” Gracey asks as he watches them. By a change of direction from his original destination, he found himself walking behind the children without realizing it himself. He walked and walked. His curiosity was really too great to stop, at that, a wooden sign, illuminated, led to a splendid place, full of rides and attractions. The circus is in town!
Turning hesitantly, Gracey was curious about the circus. One was to be able to go to the meeting with the millionaires of the city, and another was to enter the event he witnessed in front of him, distract himself and try to have a good time. But... Is this really what his father would have wanted? To go to a circus full of freaks, ignorant and ordinary people. That's what his mind told him. Distract yourself with a little joy that wouldn't last a lifetime and, once it's over, you'll never feel the same way, going back to the world you wanted to escape from. Belonging to a high society, being more respected than you used to be, having a high position, going to governmental decisions was what would probably sound like a dream for all those who wish to have a nice sack of gold in their hands. Living up to his family name, that would make his father proud. He had already made his decision.
A vast pearl-white hall, a redwood floor, Indian-made rugs, gilded chandeliers, portraits in gold frames and large windows that gave a wooded view of the outside. That's what Gracey found as he passed through both doors of the salon. High class men, elegantly dressed, drinking champagne from glass goblets in hand, chatting and laughing with each other. Gracey respectfully approaches one of the men, catching his attention by gently tapping him on the shoulder twice. “Excuse me, very good morning, is this the private club?”
“Of course it is! Who are you?” says the man as he turns around. He was a bulky person, hairless but with a brown beard with a line of very gray hair.
“I introduce myself, sir. My name is Edward William Gracey. I was invited to the club a few days ago.” Gracey introduces himself with a smile, extending his hand in a friendly manner.
“If it isn't the famous ‘Master’ Gracey! Isn't this splendid? Pleased to meet you, I'm Collin Slater.” Mr. Slater smiles as he shakes Edward's hand vigorously. “Don't you have any staff in this place? Servant, attend to Master Gracey!” Collin exclaims. Two servants arrive to remove his mackintosh, gloves and hat and gently place it on a shelf.
“It's a very cozy place, Mr Collins. My father used to go to one of these when he was younger.” Gracey directs his word to Mr. Slater, taking a drink from a tray which has been offered to him by a passing waiter.
“Surely your father was a respectable gentleman like yourself. I got to know him on one occasion or another.”
“You got to know my father?” Gracey asked with surprise.
“Of course it is!” replies Collin Slater. “He was the one who helped me with extra money for my circus troupe. You see, I started out as a pauper who travelled from place to place doing a show in every town I came to. Shall I tell you how much I made? A penny at the most. But it wasn't like that anymore. One day I arrived in the big city, New York. One day I was lucky to have enough money to get to dinner with my daughter in a nice restaurant. There I met your father having dinner with whom I think is your mother. They told me about the old tea company they had, but it wasn't until he died that I found out about the mine. I told him about my show, he saw it and fell in love with it. So he gave me money, a freak, and extra stuff, so I could start my own circus troupe. The most successful in all of America.”
“How fascinating your story is, sir. I didn't know my father had so many connections.” Gracey replies, fascinated. “Is your circus by any chance the one that's performing in town right now?”
“That's right! That's why I'm here. It was like a miracle. Thanks to him, everyone knows about you. You are the spitting image of your father!” exclaims Mr. Slater. Gracey smiles awkwardly, after thanking him for the gesture, he explains that he prefers not to talk too much about his father, but would like to meet the rest of the club's society. “That's understandable, Master Gracey. If you'll allow me, I'll be over there talking to Madame Zarkov” Collin Slater says before leaving.
Gracey begins to introduce himself to the others, it seemed to be a pleasant moment for him. Minutes later, Gracey goes out into the back garden of the restaurant, he was feeling very hot which made him sweat a little, so he takes a handkerchief out of his trousers and gently wipes it over his face. The heat was not all that had made him leave, but the suffocating state he was in, the lights in there were making him dizzy, many voices at the same time, the usual pressure to meet the requirements to not look bad in front of many powerful people. A panic attack was what made him reflect that he was not ready to come out and socialize. Leota was right, this was not going to work, so the best thing was to go back home.
At the other end of the garden, a beautiful young lady sitting on a swing is noticed by Gracey's gaze after hearing a sigh accompanied by a whimper. The girl with a delicate face, eyes as red as a luscious strawberry, her curly brown hair full of splendor, her eyes moistened by the gloom that was going on inside her mind, did not mean that they did not produce a sweet look together with the shine of her firm eyelashes and fine eyebrows. She wore a dapper gown of high quality velvet, purple, pink satin shoulder pads; a huge white skirt, adorned with sunflower flowers embroidered all over. The ensemble of the beautiful melancholy lady sitting on a flowing metal swing with the garden scenery was like a strange dream where the only thing shining was her. “But… who is she?” That's what Gracey wondered, what must have happened to make him feel this way? Slowly, Gracey approaches her carefully, stopping in front of the tree that was located next to the swing.
Excuse me, friend, are you all right?” Gracey asks. Looking at him, the lady is startled and sighs with an exclamation, looks at him with doubt and intrigue for a moment, until she calms down and answers as firmly as she can, even if she couldn't help but notice his clipped voice.
“Not much really, but thank you for asking.” the girl replies.
“May I?” Gracey asks, pointing to the empty space next to her on the swing, so she shakes her head up and down, allowing him to sit down. Moments after sitting in silence, appreciating the garden, he decides to take a second handkerchief out of his other pocket. ”Do you need a handkerchief? It would be a shame to ruin your make-up.” says Gracey handing her the handkerchief. She takes the handkerchief gently and delicately wipes her eyes, letting out a sigh.
“I'm sorry. You must think I'm pathetic, this being the first time he's seen me.” She laughs sadly, looking at the floor.
“Of course not! I think you're someone beautiful… I mean, very elegant” Gracey stammers, coughing between words. “Besides, you don't have to apologize for anything. Emotions are part of our soul” Gracey replies.
“Well, I've never met anyone so kind.” says the lady, folding her handkerchief.
“Well, I always think you should treat others as you want others to treat you.”
“It's a bit complicated, don't you think?” She laughs.
“Ha. Ha. Ha. Somewhat, yes. But once you put it into practice, you'll see it's not as bad as you think.”
“But sometimes don't you just want to be able to treat others the way they treat you?” She says briskly. To which Gracey lets out an honest laugh.
“How can you have no idea!” Gracey replies, continuing the good humor and laughter. They are silent for a while longer. “You know, you've been the only person who has approached me this whole time. My friends are not around and my father forced me to be here.” Sally says in a slightly more serious tone.
“At least it was good to have made her laugh.” Gracey says.
“Yes, you seemed a bit silly, but in a cute way. It made me laugh a lot. I haven't had a moment like that for a long time. It was like a relief from the punishing life I live.” She looks down at the floor. At that, she looks at the handkerchief Gracey had given her, and brings it back to him. “My name is Sally Slater.”
“My name is Edward William Gracey.” Gracey replies, quickly realizing. “His last name is Slater! I just met your father at the club!” Gracey exclaims with joy.
“You're Gracey! I never thought I'd see you in real life. I'd heard so much about you and your father. Do you know my father knew your father?”
“Your father told me!”
“Heh. After all, it seems that the Slaters and the Gracey's had to meet again, one way or another. As if the surnames were destined.” She commented, lowering her tone a little.
“I think that's a beautiful thing.” Gracey replies.
“I never really knew his father, only stories about him from my father and how he helped him in the circus… the same circus I'm part of now.” Sally comments, rediscovering her sadness once again.
“But why are you part of the circus? I imagine you must have an important place.” Gracey says intrigued.
“Not much, I'm part of the ‘show’. I have been for as long as I can remember. I usually walk the tightrope many meters above the ground. My father has forced me not to leave the circus, he is the one who has control over my earnings. I have less and less motivation, less and less energy. And, now you see me here, just as I am. With no one else to make me feel valid for whom I really am.” Sally, her eyes glazed over, comments.
“Sally, from everything you have told me, I believe you are someone who is not only talented, but someone who can really have the strength to pull yourself out of the abyss you feel trapped in. You have a lot to give to this world, it's really not too late to make a change in your life.” Gracey comments, making her feel a little more flattered. As they stare into each other's eyes, it doesn't take long for them to realize they are holding hands, so they quickly pull away from each other. Gracey looks at the time on his pocket watch. “Good heavens! I think it might be time for me to go back to my mansion. It's almost time for my fencing practice. Besides, they're waiting for me.” Gracey hurry, quickly getting up from the swing, so she grabs his arm uneasily.
“Please don't go!” Sally implores Gracey.
“I'm sorry Sally, but I have to go.”
“At least tell me we'll see each other again.”
“Do you think that's possible?”
“Here.” Sally pulls out a pair of tickets to give to Gracey. “Look at me tonight when the circus is over. Please.”
“I will be there, during and after the circus. That's a promise.” Gracey replies, taking her hand, kissing it. Sally felt that it was a new beginning for her, now she knew what she had to do. While Gracey was returning, he thought it would be an excellent idea to tell Leota to spend a night at the circus to have fun and forget for a while all the bad things that had happened afterward.
*
Past. Year 1880 - New Orleans Louisiana.
Passing by a river, Baptiste, a middle-aged Afro-Haitian man, who was with his only daughter, Leota. The father takes out of a small box he had with him, a bag of corn flour, with which he makes the symbol ‘Veve’ on the ground where they were. “That mark there. It is where the spirit of Papa Legba, who will make us pass to the gates of the afterlife if he grants it to us. He has a very good heart.” Says the voodoo bokor. Of course, there were more people of African descent in that place, beating drums, making others dance who were part of the ceremony, both adults and children. The little girl was sitting in a corner, alone, with a pensive stare. Then one of the children approached her with a cup of coffee in his hands.
“He won't listen to you.”
“What?” she asks, turning her head sorrowfully and slowly towards the speaker.
“You're different, Papa Legba won't listen to you. Your mother was a witch”. Baptiste, catching the child's eye, scolding him for his lack of morals, approaches the scene. Squatting down, he shakes Leota's hand, so that she could feel safe and continue what she should.
“Now, Leota, my child. We have to focus on the cross, that line in the center represents his staff.”
“Staff?”
“Remember the little old knight we saw the other day?” Hearing her father's words, Leota comically imitates the gentleman her father was referring to. The smile on her face, as well as his, did not fade. Continuing to stroke her hair, he laughingly comments. “That's right, my daughter! But with him, we must show respect. This veve is our family seal, he'll recognie it, and…”
“It is the only and most correct way to communicate with our ancestors, I know.” his child nods her head, repeating the words that Baptiste seems to have told her before in past lessons, as if writing a book. Moved to see his daughter, he had learned the importance of the ceremony. He pulls out a sugar cane, and handing it to Leota, so that she could offer it to Legba as an offering. Boom. Boom. The sound of the drums, echoing in delicate ears, felt like it was going wild. She, in agitation, runs away from the group they were in. Her restless father, dropping everything from her hands, gasps in shock as he watches her speed off, and passes through the other people, trying to catch up with Leota.
“Excuse me… Leota! Where are you going? Come back here this instant!”
Little Leota runs without stopping, she moistens her eyes little by little, but, without shedding a tear, agitated, and determined, entering a swamp far from all society, she stops in front of a tree where an upturned cross is buried in the damp earth. She rummages around like mad, until she comes upon a female corpse, her skin, and flesh already consumed almost entirely, with a torn, faded purple dress and her hair looking like cobwebs filled with dead skin dust. In her cold hands, she holds a time-worn book, in its paste, under the ornament of a golden eye, was written ‘mantr’. Leota takes it shakily, trying to hold her breath.
“Leota! Don't you dare!” Baptiste manages to find Leota, but it was too late, she had already found what she was looking for, panting, he catches her eye somewhat alarmed. Turning to look at her father, she doesn't say a word to him, she only looks at him, her soul looks at him. “Leota, my daughter. You have no idea what you have in your hands, that is not the way to do things.”
“If the others see that what we do is the same as what my mother did, why do I have to keep doing it?”
“Leota, you don't understand. My child. This is not about how they look at you, how they look at our religion. Your mother didn't follow hers, she didn't want to follow ours.”
“That's not true!”
“Leota, you're too young and innocent to understand, please!”
She, staring at him, frowns, and opens the book, placing it on the floor, falling open to a page. ‘An incantation to bring to your eyes and ears the one who is condemned in limbo.’ Her father with disappointment and fear looks at her, his gaze was lost.
“I am very sorry that you have chosen this path, my child. But I can no longer offer you my support.” Seeing her father turn and walk away, she lets out a couple of tears of regret, as she had said before, she couldn't understand, she felt, it was nothing more than a whim for the pain of having lost her mother, she runs after him. “Papa!” She repeats several times with shrieks, searching without success. She turns to all sides, trees, moss and water are all she can see through the thick fog. Lost and scared to death, little Leota throws herself to the ground to cry.
Feeling a presence beside her, Leota drops to her knees, sits on her legs, and leans against the body of what appears to be her mother. “Mommy” She sobs.
“Shh... My little girl, my precious little Leota. Don't cry anymore. I'm here with you now, my little girl.”
Successfully, she had returned to see her mother, she had not needed Papa Legba's help to do so, the black magic seems to have worked well for the poor little girl. Tenderly stroking her hair, Leota embraces her late materialized mother, who was humming a lullaby to her, oblivious to the sore eyes the black goat's head had, with long, sharp horns, and her bony hands stark and discoloured. “Fear no more, my baby. Just remember to keep my book safe, it is my gift, just remember to use it when you are ready.” Falling asleep in her arms, feeling that security and peace, the love of her mother. Leota wakes up the next morning with her mother nowhere to be seen, no sign that she had been there. Disappointed, thinking it could all be a dream, that her father rejected her for her actions, she gets up to leave and go to a new place to call home. Turning her head halfway around, she finds a rusted gate, where the abandoned Gore mansion lay rotting in the background. Turning away from it, he leaves. Leaving the place.
Leaving her memories aside, Leota, now in her present, living inside the mansion, caresses Lenore gently, without having left the library where she leans back on the desk chair. Thoughtful. “I never used it as I should have. Why didn't it work when I used it in my shop? Was it all a dream? I know I was a fake, I'm sure I was…but I felt him. I felt him. Furthermore, I still don't know if I ever believed again.” She thinks, speaking in a low voice, as if talking to her raven. Her melancholic meditation is interrupted by the arrival of Gracey, who excitedly puts his hat on the desk. That called Leota, welcoming her in a simple manner.
“Leota, my dear, I have perfect news for you. I've met the best people in this town, well, they're not from this town, but they come to visit here. Do you like the circus?”
“The circus?”
“We're going to the circus this afternoon, some good friends have invited me to a wonderful circus performance” Gracey takes Leota's hands again, making her get up from her chair.
“Wow, I haven't seen you this excited since… Good friends, you say?”
“As I mentioned, I met some great people this morning when I was walking down the pl…” The reply is interrupted after she resumes her serious look.
“Gracey. Answer me. Did you go to your meeting?”
“Of course I did! That's where I met the person who invited us to the circus, his father is the owner of the show. I want you to come with me, I couldn't spend this special moment with anyone but you.” Everything remains silent, Leota gets closer to Gracey, putting her chest on his, hugging him. The blue could be felt in the atmosphere around her eyes, which she closes. “What's wrong, Leota, is everything all right?”
“I thought you were going to replace me.”
“How do you think I would do that, my dear?” He thinks for a while, looking at his companion's face, still sad. “You know what?” Still holding her close to his body, he walks over to the service bell leading to his servants' quarters. Boris quickly climbs the stairs and peers around the corner of the door.
“You called for me, Master Edward?” Boris asks, somewhat hoarse but kindly.
“Give yourself the afternoon off, Boris. We're going out to dinner.”
“Are you sure? But I was going to cook you your favorite chicken today.”
“Please, he's worked so hard, he deserves it. What's more… I have a better idea.”
*
Later in the day, watching the sunset paint the beautiful colorful gardens of the mansion with their bright golden light, the flowers full of life, the water of the stream illuminated like a thousand diamonds, the house shaded the back left courtyard, shading the busts, making them appear blue. The carriage waiting for Gracey and company. Boris, dressed in a dark opaque fuchsia cotton cloak, black dress, make-up on, walks down the porte-cochere stairs and, heading for the carriage. She anxiously checks her watch, but no one arrives. Leota, coming out of her room, looks at Josephine at the end of the corridor, as if she had been watching her go out into the corridor,
waiting for her. She smiles with her eyes lowered.
“Are you going out, madame?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Please don't go out like that” Josephine points to Leota's dress.
“Pardon?” Indignant.
“Master Gracey asked me to give this to you, he was saving it for a special moment, come with me.” She heads down another corridor, down which Leota follows. They both end up passing inside the library, Josephine takes her to the back, where a wooden box stands behind the grand piano, with the back of a hammer, she opens the box delicately, also dropping the boards on the floor. Leota with her glazed eyes, sees a mannequin wearing a low-cut dress in a purple Irish silk fabric with a wide dark purple line across the stomach, a guipure lace, a huge skirt which looked like a violet rose that turned black the lower it went, adorned with images of golden flowers. Once revealed what was inside the box, she takes her gift graciously.
“No… I can't accept it, it's too much.”
“Just accept it. What do you think the master spent his money on, nothing? He has his mind on you all the time, there is no other woman in his life.” Approaching Leota, she begins to massage his shoulders, so he moves curtly, removing his hands from her. “You have every reason to be grateful, madame. The least I could do is accept it.” The madame, seeing the dress swims resolutely, thinks about the maid's words, lets a few seconds pass in silence, at that, Gracey's voice is heard searching the corridors for her. *Bang* *Bang* Leota's heartbeat was accelerating, she had to make a decision soon. The master comes through the door a few moments later. “Josephine! Have you seen Madame?”
“Not so far, sir, sorry.”
“It's all right, Josephine. If you see her, please tell her I'll be waiting for her outside.”
“As you say. Have a nice day.” Josephine bows.
The sun was slowly descending towards its home on the marsh water, the glare of its brightness illuminating the metallic edges of the dark carriage where the master and his maid were waiting for the madame.
“It's almost time, if we wait another ten minutes, we won't make it in time, I'm going to look for her.” Looking at his pocket watch, Gracey gets up, somewhat desperately, from the carriage towards the entrance of his house. Before he could open it, someone else does, leaving him with a pleasantly surprised to find Leota. Wearing a long, beautiful dress, with her black, silky hair in the air, made up as usual, there was something new about her, her expression, her essence, the vibe coming from her spirit made her beautiful glow with a sincere smile, which Gracey hadn't seen for a long time. “Leota…” exclaims the master in a low voice.
“Dear Lord, Leota. You look beautiful, so beautiful that...
“What…?”
“… what…” He clears his throat. “We've been waiting for you, it's almost time.” Gracey, sounding more serious, gently takes her hand and leads her walking towards the carriage, while the lover's disappointment fades.
*
Glittering its lights in the air, amidst muscular men, beautiful ladies alongside caged lions, and clowns playing their pranks to make the audience smile, the circus invited people in, of course, only those who could buy tickets. Gracey and company strolled through the wonderful entrance that scented the air with the fragrance of candy and popcorn, where children played and ran around, something that made them feel like they were in the happiest place on earth. “Your ticket, sir.” demands the ticket office employee as he sees them approaching. In a hurry, Gracey searches through his pockets, having no idea if he has them or not.
“Did you bring them?” asks Leota.
“Yes. Mh. One moment, please.” He laughs nervously. On the ticket-taker's shoulder rests the hand of Mr. Collins, by whom he is surprised, “Master Gracey! How nice to see you here.” He proceeds to give the young ticket man a firm slap, generating a loud clapping sound. “What are you standing there like a slug? Can't you see who's standing right in front of you? Let them pass!” Being cordially welcomed by the circus owner, together with Boris, he invites him in without the need for a ticket, taking him by the hand with a firm grip and a pat on the back. Together with them, Leota takes a few steps into the grounds until she is pulled aside by Mr. Collins, who, turning his back on her, stops her; witnessing what has happened, they ask her to enter again.
“Excuse me, Mr. Collins, madame is with me.” Pointing with his gaze, he makes Collins turn to look at Leota, without letting much time pass, it was notorious that the gentleman did not agree that she should have the same privilege that his guest of honor enjoyed. With a passive-aggressive sigh, and a smirk he replies “Then let her in” Once the man lets her in, he approaches the master's ear, whispering “She will be a very good attraction here at the circus, I can see why you don't get bored in your mansion” Gracey doesn't know what to think about it, but what he does, is that no one can talk like that about his friend. He raises his chest in defense and sees a face similar to that of his late Aunt Florence in someone else's head, fading as he passes. Beginning to remember all the words which infested his mind, doubting all his actions, was it good what he was doing to let all these things pass? His head had clouded again, the lights looked dim, the silent voice in his mind echoed.
Amongst the colourful spectacles of the circus, the people walking around being led by a host, causing the spectators to be frightened into a folder of what were referred to as ‘freaks’; Gunger: The Jaguar Man, Eier and Schaum: The Fused Twins, Robertson Paycheck: The Penny Man, Michael and Mimi: The Miniature Couple, amongst others. In the middle of the crowd, Edward finds himself looking at the same things as the rest, the peculiar sensation of seeing the deformities of those people who look like monsters. It was no strong sensation he had, no fear and much less impression, his gaze lost amongst them, making him lose himself in his thoughts of the past. What was it? No one knows exactly, her expression is dead, just like Leota's as she walks around the other end of the circus with Boris, who is thrilled with every curtain he sees. Gracey sighs and, looking at his pocket watch for once more, walks away from the group, doubting he is there, putting his hands clasped behind his back. Out of nowhere, some kind of delicate cloth covers his eyes, it was obvious they were hands from the way he feels. “I thought you weren't coming, Master Gracey,” Sally says in a playful tone, making Gracey smile as if all is well, so, taking her hands, he turns and kisses one of them.
“Miss.” Politely, he greets her, making her close her eyes, and wrap her arms around his neck. “You look as beautiful as the moment I met you.”
“And you look so handsome.”
“Sally, I wanted to mention that, I hope it's not too much trouble that you've invited…” Looking into Slater's sweet eyes, he pauses, erasing his smile slightly, forming it again in less than a second, after sorting out his thoughts.
“Who, Edward?” Sally looks at Edward curiously, as if he were a cat with his eyes almost fully dilated.
“…My maid.” She pauses. “She's like a mother to me.”
“Well, it would be a pleasure to meet her, but first I'd like you to meet my friends.”
Sally takes Gracey by the hand and leads him to another section of the circus. Once under the freak tent, the two of them gleefully walk together around the central tent where the big show will be staged until they reach the backstage. Wheelbarrows in the open air, people putting on their costumes in the open air, preparing for each of their acts. Passing in front of them, Barbara, the bearded woman, greets Gracey politely, leaving him somewhat fascinated, at that, a couple of clowns look at them and try to imitate them, starting to make tasteless sexual signals. “Ignore them, they don't earn that much, after all.” Sally comments. The two good friends were approaching the largest of all the carts, which was giving off a harmonious musical melody with an organ sound. Sally taps on the door a couple of times, then the music stops, and you can hear it pressing all the keys, making a thunderous noise. A man of medium height, hooked nose, and straight but short hair opens the door, looking annoyed, exclaims in a powerful voice with a somewhat slurred accent. “Who dares to disturb my practice?!” His expression changes as he looks at Sally with a smile. “Ah, Sally.” The man is Victor Geist.
“Victor, this is Edward Gracey. Edward Gracey, this is Victor Geist.” Victor, looking up and down imposingly at the New York gentleman, smiles, bowing to him.
“An honour, my lord.
“If my ears do not deceive me, I understand that the wonderful melody floating through the air comes from that pipe organ you have there, doesn't it?”
Victor cranes his neck towards the instrument, turning back to Gracey. Nodding his head presumptuously. At that, he lets out a deep sigh and confesses. “I must admit, Master Bruce, that what you heard is not my best work. It's taken a while for my motivation to get these old fingers to do the wonderful thing they used to do.
“Oh, Victor, I'm sure you've been doing a wonderful job.”
“Der Unsinn!” Victor exclaims. “I'd rather admit that I do a mediocre job because of my discouragement than do a mediocre job and cover it up for something it's not.” Gracey approaches Victor, taking a couple of steps forward, moving a little closer to the wheelbarrow.
“Victor, my good man. I know it's early in our bond, but I'd like you to allow me to help you with your work.”
“I feel that not much could be achieved in this limited time, but I don't think it would hurt anyone to try. You go ahead.” Stepping aside, and letting Gracey into his cart, Victor looks at Sally, giving her a look that she could trust him. Once inside, Gracey, making his way inside the darkened cart, sits on the bench facing a Calliope at the back, on the far wall.
“The fact that you have admitted that something has been lost in your touches speaks volumes about your true greatness, you have the courage not to hide your shortcomings, Mr. Victor.” Moments after he fell silent, the master of the mansion began to play a lovely melody, an instrumental adaptation of ‘The Virgin of New Orleans’ that flowed so delicately through the pipes of the instrument that it sounded as perfect as the original. Victor, surprised, rubs his forehead, causing his hat to fall off. Gracey, on the other hand, was lost in the music.
“I've played the organ for the last twenty-five years, teaching myself, and I've only come to consider myself decent. How is it that you've been able to recreate something with such a degree of perfection?” Imprecates the organist with considerable astonishment once he stopped playing, there was no comprehension of what he had witnessed.
“There's no secret, just practice and dedication, also natural talent, the last thing I have, if I'm honest. Heh. Heh…”
“…”
The feeling just comes out of the music itself, I let myself go and that feeling emerges by itself, I can't explain it with words. I simply play with what I know in order to express what I feel, it's a silent release through noise. “Gracey turns to Sally, who looks at him tenderly, until his gaze returns to Victor, smiling at him.” But my friend, from what I've heard and know from your words, you do have that natural talent, just let it flow with your feelings. Tell your life through the keys, no matter what piece it is. The German man goes to sit on the stool, from which Gracey had turned away. The pipes begin to play their music while Victor plays, but stop after a short while. The music plays again, the music goes wrong again. Once more, once less.
“You know we trust you, Victor.” Sally comments.
With a sigh in the midst of the emptiness that surrounded Victor, he began to play his melody clearly, life was slowly coming back to color. With his eyes tightly closed, Victor saw his life in front of his nose, the music was getting faster and clearer. Although the march of ‘The Screamer’ is what he plays, the way he plays it screams more ‘Victor Geist’ than the name of the piece. He begins to laugh with joy, which he could not contain. He had made it. Rising to his feet, he shakes Gracey's hand aggressively.” Thank you very much, Master Gracey. I've never been so prepared in my life, please, if there's anything I can return the favor, let me know.
“It's nothing, the fact that I've been useful to you is my greatest reward.” Gracey takes a couple of steps near the exit of the wagon, but before he gets off, he slowly stops and turns around. “Tell me, Mr. Victor, wouldn't you be interested in playing on a real organ?”
*
Strolling through the crowds of a tremendous carnival, the madam, accompanied by her maid, directs her steps in no direction at all, simple; in a state absorbed by what has happened before. In a state of sadness, she reflects melancholically on the moment when the gentleman with whom she had shared so much, abandoned her, leaving her almost without a companion for the circus, and went off alone to enjoy the entertainment. Circus music echoing in the distance catches the attention of both of them, so Boris sighs with a warm smile. “Oh, look how wonderful, madam. This place is surely a sweet dream for every child. It is certainly the happiest place on earth.”
“The circus gives children their sweet and dismayed dreams. The happiest places always hide the darkest secrets.” Leota replies monotonously, making Madam try to cheer her up by rubbing her arm.
“That's right, Madam. But remember that if you are where you find happiness, it is better to take advantage of that at the moment. I still remember the affable smile you wore when you arrived at the manor with Master Edward. Aren't you happy?”
“Of course I was happy. Gracey treated me with respect, and gave me purpose. I was happy. That memory sticks with me.” Boris holds Leota's hands.
“Look Madam, I know that things don't usually go the way you plan them, especially when you are going to live with someone for a long time. You have to get to know them and have patience with them, it's like reading people, and you like to read a lot. Master Bruce is usually…” Laughs. “… Very special. Once, when we lived in New York, he wouldn't speak to his sister April for a week because his father told him she had better manners than him. Time went by and they were inseparable. I know that right now, things are not very stable at home, but give him time, the losses were very hard for him, and he just tries to hide his feelings so he doesn't upset you. He's probably just as worried about you.”
“You're smarter than I thought, Boris. I never stopped to think what broke him so much. How all this change could affect him, he's lost more than I could ever imagine… I just want to make him happy again. It hurts me to see him so… broken.”
“Madam, in time he will heal. I think it would be best to give him his space. I know he still has deep feelings somewhere in that heart of his.” Boris's gaze wanders over Leota's, noticing a sign gleaming above a marquee, which has ‘Museum Of The Weird’ written on it in paint. Then, with a smile and a shoulder dance, he encourages the madam. “Look alive! We're in a fun place, we've just come to have fun. It'll be our girls' night out, look behind you. That ride sounds like fun.”
The Museum Of The Weird, a museum with which you will lose your head. Inside the tent you find the most inhuman things one could imagine, worse than the freak show. A candle with a human face and arms melted by the heat illuminates the main corridor of old wood, the sockets of its eyes make it look like it has life. From the dark edges of the corridor, a burly man with a twisted chest, wearing a black suit whose clothes have unbuttoned buttons, white shirt, red tie, a red fez, accompanied by gold chains and rings, emerges panting his mysterious and macabre entrance, holding a cane topped by an 8-ball billiard ball.
“Welcome, foolish mortals, to the museum of the uncanny! Ha ha ha!” exclaims the man, grabbing the candle man and shining the light underneath his face, making him look sinister. Leota is not impressed; with Boris it's the opposite.
“I am your host...! Your host, your mystery host. Buuuuu... This candle, which my hands possess, is not just any candle, but the stuffed corpse of an ancient explorer who was turned into wax after having defied the god Mara in the temple of the cursed eye.”
“Ah!”
“Let not fear deceive you, let the punishment of this candleman light your way, now come with me, there is much to see!” The man, led them through several display cases with anomalies displayed, remarkably each one a fake, only disguised dolls which the host swore were beasts stuffed by the society of adventurers. A chair with a human face, a six-foot yeti, a clock with the face of a demon, lizard horns, a mermaid, and so on. A whisper. A whisper in the madam's ear was enough for her to lose her attention from the tour.
“Leota.”
“Leota.”
The light of the candle carried by her host was already fading into the darkness, as was the sound of her voice, not relevant at the moment after all. Taking randomly slow steps through the darkness, a voice fading into the space from a lighted door on the shore, from the distant, unconsciously calls out to her. The door inhales and exhales an unclean cold air. Gently holding her hand over the door and turning the knob, Leota encounters a spiral staircase made of earth, so she descends it solicitously, trying not to fall down because of the missing vision. A subterranean room, which was dimly lit by a circle of fire, is what she finds as she goes halfway down. In the middle stood a round wooden table with a crystal sphere in the center, next to it, a bell. At the other end of the table, a hunchbacked old woman, wearing a black cloak, which has no eyes, sits on a chair with a stuffed raven at her head. Leota covers her left ear, for she felt as if someone had whispered to her.
“You ask who I am, I can hear it inside you. Come closer, child. You don't know who I am, but you don't know who you are. Let me tempt your soul to tell you what you lack, Leota.”
Trying not to look too intrigued, still nervous, she turns around and takes a step forward. “It must be another cheap circus attraction.”
“Ah. That's what you think, but that's because you can't feel me, I know how to block my spirit from yours. You would if you'd let out the powers that were given to you at birth, they're a great virtue you have, but you don't take advantage of them, Leota. Come, sit down.”
Leota approaches the woman, sitting down in a chair at the opposite end of the room from the old woman. “How...? How do you know about me?” The old woman.
“I'll give you the answer you don't need, but which will make you feel less uneasy. My name is Madam Zarkov. I have seen everything. I am wise, but with private knowledge to the mortal world. Likewise, I withdrew my service after a ghoulish man asked for my service in the mountain, which feeds on the soul of a great bird where his infernal nest lies.”
“A man… from the mountains… where there is a bird's nest?” Doubt Leota.
“Enough of this!” growls Zarkov with a disturbing shriek. “My child. It is no coincidence that you have fallen into this place where I met you just now, you must open your eyes. You run a horrible future that matches your past, but it can change, yes, it can change. The man, Edward Gracey.”
“All right, you've been listening to my conversation. This is just a carnival trick. I used to do this, ma'am, it's not complicated.” Leota stands up, turning around again, this time more indignant. Suddenly, a one-eyed black cat falls on her hair, meowing at her, digging its nails into her fur. Leota jerks shakily, trying to shake the cat off her, but the harder she tries, the deeper the claws dig in; a force pulls her towards Zarkov. The old witch scares the cat away, so she proceeds to pull Leota by the hair. “It seems I have no choice but to show you for myself what I can do to you, or rather, what that house did to you.” Suddenly, the flame in the circle disappears, leaving everything absolutely dark. Leota falls to the ground.
She gets up again, finding herself back in the museum of the strange, right in the corridor where she had been. In the dim lighting, Leota sees a sturdy woman walking towards her from a distance. “Boris!” she exclaims. The woman seems to ignore her, turning right until she is lost among the display cases. She looks strange. But the strangest thing was that the host guide was not heard with her. No, the strangest thing was that there was no sound of the audience or music outside, not even the wind, let alone the footsteps of whom she thought was Boris. Leota stands static in the blissful corridor, waiting for the sound of something. A piercing, ghostly, heart-rending howl, echoing in Leota's ears.
“My precious Jacob!” That voice. “Look what you did to my precious Jacob!” Leota immediately recognizes the voice of Gracey's deranged aunt. Freezing her blood, Leota's eyes fill with tears. Then, from the end of the corridor, Florence's ghost is seen walking slowly, just as she had died; her screams are interrupted by her throat, choking violently. The spirit stops to look at Leota, with rancor and hatred it floats with great speed towards her. The look on her face is horrible, her fat face full of veins from suffocation, her eyes swollen, her hair floating and her mouth open as if she wanted to keep taking in air. “You did that to her, you damned witch!” Leota reacts and rushes up, so she runs into a wall, leaving her cornered with no way out. The demonic clock struck the thirteenth hour with its loud chimes. Florence, with her misty presence, stares with her translucent white eyes, with all the rancour anyone could imagine. The spectre lets itself come at her with full force, with a shriek. Leota lets out a screaming sigh, squeezing her eye lids tightly shut.
A few seconds pass. Nothing happens. Leota opens her eyes, finding herself sitting back down in the room next to Zarkov.
“It felt so… real. Was it a dream? What the hell just happened?” He's speechless, struggling to process what he just saw and heard. His heart pounds against his chest and his whole body shakes, from fear and adrenaline. After a moment he regains his composure enough to speak.
“What was that…?”
“That, my dear, is the ghost you brought with you from the mansion. She followed you here. You would know if you had your powers back, my child. I was able to control her because of who I am. You're welcome.”
“So what I felt when I met Gracey… was he a ghost you brought from home?”
“No. You see, it's very much like something I've seen before. There is no ghost out there, it's the house that follows him. You should know this, he is cursed, his family name is cursed. The best thing you could do is run away, you are more than you think you are. You are powerful, a blessing among mortals. You still have time to escape, if you don't, horrible things will happen. You have the book! You have everything in your favor!” Leota's body tenses at the woman's words. She looks down, remembering the cursed book, hidden in her room. The book could help her… Escape? Escape from Gracey … escape from the curse…
“The book… You mean the spell book? You know about that too?”
“Yes, child! That... “
“How do you know about that book?” Leota asks seriously, eyes staring at the old woman. What was once fear turned into anger and tension.
“Leota…”
“Don't tell me you know everything. Who told you about the book? Do you even know my father?” He starts to raise his voice more and more.
“He wasn't your father!”
Leota stands up threateningly, and looks at her coldly. The old woman slumps back in her seat. “I knew your father, when he met your mother... you were already born, he knew everything she did. Voodoo was the most important thing to him, he was a religious man, so he wanted to teach you to do what he thought was right, so he failed, so he tried with you. He saw the power you had, you were just like your mother.”
“I was a monster.”
“He never ran away from you, he was never disappointed in you, he never abandoned you.”
“He…”
“You don't know him… no.”
“Leota!”
“You don't lie to me! He knew what kind of beast I am!”
“Your powers are beautiful, my child.”
“They are a blessing!”
“He knew I had the same darkness in me! He hated me for it, because I reminded him of her. But not Gracey… everyone saw me as a monster except him.”
“Leota…” She looks at the woman as tears begin to stream down her face. Her hands grip the table, her knuckles white. She looks at Zarkov, pain and confusion on her face.
“What do you want me to see? All I see is a sad, lonely woman.” She gazes at the crystal ball in the middle of the table. “I've felt Gracey's soul a hundred times. And each time I feel misery. He… is destined for nothing but misery. But not if I am.” Leota says in her clipped voice. At that she turns to look at Zarkov, at this point, all her make-up had already smudged. “And for all I know, you're nothing more than a circus lady preying on my fears. I don't think they're going to miss you anymore.” Zarkov looks at her in terror, black marks beginning to show under Leota's hands.
“I have warned you, beware of the haunted mansion.” Zarkov said, a moment before her neck snapped, dropping her dead.
“You wanted me to use my powers, didn't you?”
Leota raises her head high, so she climbs the stairs. Once back at the museum, the lights were already on, the show was over and people were walking home. She hurried out of the tent, looking for Gracey. After all, all she wanted to do was to go back to her beloved. Confess her love, her desire. She was the only one who could cheer him up, after all, he just needed to be distracted and have his time. She goes all over the circus, but can't find him. Worried that she has been abandoned, she begins to scream Edward's name. Fortunately, Boris heeds Leota's call, as does Victor.
“Madam, are you all right? You had me worried.”
“Yes, I just need to know where Edward is.”
“Edward Gracey? Do you know him?” Victor asks.
“Of course I do, I live with him!”
“Splendid! We were just talking about him, he's a noble gentleman, come, he's here with us. I take her to him.” Leota follows Victor, happy and hopeful to see him again. Through a short tour to the backstage of the empty circus, Victor guides her to the wagon with ‘Tightrope Girl’ written on it. Excitedly, she climbs the steps to open the door, but is stopped, not by anyone, but by herself. Leota stops when she sees Gracey kissing Sally Slater on the mouth through the carriage window.
Inside, Gracey sees Leota watching the show from outside, so he gets up to open the door for her.
“Leota, I was wondering where you were. Boris was worried sick about you. We almost called the police.” Leota just looks at Gracey seriously, at this point she couldn't even generate tears. Just coldness. “Leota, meet Sally. My future wife.”
*
Later, same night, back at the mansion. Sitting on the ground overlooking the swamp water, Leota hid her face on her folded arms above her knees. Thinking.
Her heart was broken. Before she knew it, the sun began to rise, lighting up all around her. She gets up to leave, then, for a moment, she notices something in the water. A huge dead lizard on the river bank, it was a fresh one. Then, without taking her eyes off it, Leota picks up a cloth bag that was on the ground, there she carried her mother's book. The ‘Mantr’. She opens the bag to take it out, so she stops for a while, and closes the bag again, so she walks back to the mansion.
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