Chapter IV
Harmonie du soir
Voici venir les temps où
vibrant sur sa tige
Chaque fleur s'évapore ainsi qu'un
encensoir;
Les sons et les parfums tournent dans l'air du
soir;
Valse mélancolique et langoureux vertige!
Chaque fleur s'évapore
ainsi qu'un encensoir;
Le violon frémit comme un coeur
qu'on afflige;
Valse mélancolique et langoureux vertige!
Le
ciel est triste et beau comme un grand reposoir.
Le violon frémit comme un
coeur qu'on afflige,
Un coeur tendre, qui hait le néant
vaste et noir!
Le ciel est triste et beau comme un grand
reposoir;
Le soleil s'est noyé dans son sang qui se fige.
Un coeur tendre, qui hait le
néant vaste et noir,
Du passé lumineux recueille
tout vestige!
Le soleil s'est noyé dans son sang qui se
fige...
Ton souvenir en moi luit comme un ostensoir!
Evening Harmony
The season is at hand when
swaying on its stem
Every flower exhales perfume like a censer;
Sounds and perfumes turn in the evening air;
Melancholy waltz
and languid vertigo!
Every flower exhales perfume like
a censer;
The violin quivers like a tormented heart;
Melancholy
waltz and languid vertigo!
The sky is sad and beautiful like an
immense altar.
The violin quivers like a
tormented heart,
A tender heart, that hates the vast, black
void!
The sky is sad and beautiful like an immense altar;
The
sun has drowned in his blood which congeals...
A tender heart that hates the
vast, black void
Gathers up every shred of the luminous past!
The
sun has drowned in his blood which congeals...
Your memory in me
glitters like a monstrance!
— Charles Baudelaire
It was already November when Mr. Feldman finally considered the conservatory finished. Ororo however hadn't set a foot on it yet. Remy forbade her to do so until "everything was ready", whatever that meant.
She was becoming restless.
The conservatory stood in the middle of the garden shimmering under the sun like a jewel. It was all iron and glass; the iron was painted white forming slim columns and arabesques so complex the looked like the intricate nets of a little spider, the ceiling was of a faint blue glass framed on the sides by iron lacing that formed gracious curves and leaves designs while the top was plain. In the middle of it stood a small, tower like structure, with more simple arabesques, but made in such a delicate manner they seemed drops of water over the surface of the glass. It was impossible to see inside, though. Long pieces of white fabric covered the glass walls keeping Ororo from seeing what went on inside.
Until today.
-Ororo…-Etienne called her from the door.
-Yes? -
-It's all ready.
-Really?
-Yes…go see…
-But…what about…
-He said you should go all by yourself…
She got up and walked past Etiènne.
Ororo didn't want Remy to commission that greenhouse. She honestly didn't. But now that it had been made and was standing there right before her eyes everyday, she couldn't help but feel curious. Remy hadn't said word about it. And she didn't ask. She didn't want to look too interested, and she was still greatly upset with him. He respected her silences and never forced any conversation between them, while the greenhouse was being built, piece of glass by piece of glass, outside.
Ororo stepped out.
Now the walls of the conservatory were unveiled and inside she could see a multitude of colors. She walked the meters that separated the house from the glass structure and reached the conservatory door, painted in a deep red. As she entered, what she found inside took her breath away. There were primroses as far as the eye could see. The traditional creamy yellow primroses she loved so dearly, baby pink primroses (which Ororo knew were rare and only found in nature somewhere in England), cowslips, Scottish primroses; all kinds and all colors, framed by rows of white roses and lilies, atop of it all jasmines filled the air with fragrance, it was like watching a pallet of water colors come to life before her very own eyes.
She walked on, her heels making a soft clicking sound over the blue and yellow mosaic floor and her eyes met with a smaller structure contained into the conservatory. It was standing right under the tower-like elevation that graced the middle of the building, an octagon probably even bigger than her bedroom formed by the same glass and iron structure as the rest of the conservatory, only instead of arabesques the iron formed little stylized primrose designs. It had a door, just like the main building: the whole thing reminded her of those Russian dolls, where a smaller replica is set inside a doll, then a smaller and so on.
She opened the door to see a perfect living room, with two powder blue rococo-style armchairs and a table with a baby blue porcelain tea set atop. Besides the chairs there were two small tables, each with a tulip-shaped candlestick and copies of her favorite books neatly pilled besides them, within the reach of a hand; all around her beloved cream yellow primroses bloomed, and no other flower. There was no ceiling and when one looked up, all they could see was the sky through the glass ceiling of the conservatory.
On the tea table she also found a white vase filled with red flowers, that were made even redder by the contrast with all the soft yellows, blues and whites that abounded everywhere.
She had spent nearly half an hour going through each and every flower of the greenhouse when she finally got tired. Reluctant to leave her newfound sanctum, she sat on one of the armchair and let herself relax. It had been such a long time since she felt so… content. She hated to admit but what Remy had done...was lovely.
-So…am I forgiven? -She bolted up to her feet as heard Remy´s voice. She barely noticed as the night fell: now the lights of the main house were glowing over the glass and the candles lit by the armchairs made the entire place twinkle.
- I don't know about forgiven…-she chuckled, allowing herself some mischief- but you did make an impression on me…
-That's good…because is all yours…
-Mine? -She blinked.
-Yes…yours.
-I…- Now she noticed his hair was loose, falling down his shoulders, and he was wearing a very simple white shirt with black trousers. He didn't look like he was going out tonight.
-You liked it?
-I frankly don't know what to say…-She decided to be honest-It is gorgeous.
-Not nearly as much as it should be…I can't even tell you how much I'm sorry for being such a brute that night…I suppose alcohol got the best of me…
-You shouldn't have done this…-She told him sternly.
-I had to. -He smiled charmingly.
She blinked in confusion. Was this the same man? This wasn't possible.
-Do you mind if I seat? -He asked, gesturing one of the armchairs.
-Not at all…it your conservatory. -She answered seriously. He suddenly realized she wouldn't fully accept his apologies so quickly. How could she? Remy sat down and gestured the other armchair:
-Please…
-I don't think…
-Please, sit down. –He, then, gestured the books-read something to me…
-What?
-I decided to stay home today…frankly I no longer have patience for nightly functions…I don't know how Emma makes it…So, read me something…to past time for a while…Unless you don't want to…
-No is not that…I…-Ororo took a deep breath, deciding it wasn't worth arguing- what would you like to hear?
-Pick something…
She smiled, in spite of herself, and picked up a copy of the "One thousand and one nights". As the misfortunes of king Shahariar rolled from her lips, Remy half closed his eyes, drinking in the smoky alto of her voice, and, for the first time in years, he didn't feel the urge to go out and give in to his desperate cravings…
—
-Is it true that Remy Lebeau is…-The ladies attending Emma's afternoon tea whispered behind her fans, their voices betraying both curiosity and disappointment.
-In love? –Emma smirked- Is what I hear…
-I heard he made that gorgeous conservatory just to please the woman he is in love with.
-Could it be that he is really in love? I always figured Remy would remain a bachelor…
-But truly… I don't know of any woman that has been frequenting lately.
-And I never saw him with anyone publicly either.
-You're right…I don't know of anyone who can be his interest…If it was any of the women in town we would have known already…
-Maybe someone from out of town?
-He doesn't leave town in more than a year…
-You forget, my dearest ladies-Emma added with a hint of mischief while lifting the cup to her beautifully shaped lips- that excluding all the young ladies in town, and all the ones from out of town, there's still a woman who's very accessible to him…
-Who? -The other's asked almost in unison
-Duplessis´ little bastard.
-The slave? Are you jesting, Emma?
-Well think of it…He's been different since she was brought to town, I hear she is the only one besides himself that has access to that conservatory…not to mention… she's under his roof everyday, alone with him, doesn't go out…and as of late Remy is staying in every other night. I hardly ever see him in any event… What could you make of it?
-Frankly, I never expected him to stoop so low…
-Well we all know how men are…every young man has had his fun with one of them Negro girls…doesn't mean I thing…Is not like he's marrying her or anything.
—
Etienne entered the kitchen and let Ororo in. He closed the door while she took off her hat and put away the groceries and the many domestic articles they had bought. She puffed heavily and closed her fists over the tabletop.
-I guess I'll leave you alone…I'll be at the stables if you need me…-He told her quietly.
She didn't even bother to answer. As the young man left, she sat down and waited for her anger to subside. Now people didn't even bother to be discreet about their comments. Every time she went out in the street she had to hear as women voiced their outrage at her supposed relations with Remy in strong terms and men showered her with lewd looks. She even heard someone call her "Lebeau´s whore".
Calumny on top of humiliation. That was too much. She had to do something and soon.
—
-What bothers you? -She heard the familiar voice coming from the top of the stairs. She had been fiddling with the piano keys for a while now, her thoughts wandering away, so far away that she didn't even move as he came down the stairs.
-Tell me- He insisted in a sweeter tone, like he was talking to a little girl.
-Nothing. -She told him dully.
He sat by her side on the piano stool. She moved away slightly, but he ignored it. Taking a deep breath, he looked away from her and towards the window. Ororo pressed the piano keys one by one, filling the air with a monotone, depressing sound.
-You haven't been to the conservatory in two days…
-I know.
-Is about what people are saying, correct? Is that what made you upset?
She kept fiddling with the piano, ignoring his question.
-Or is it I?
-It's not you…not this time…I…oh, never mind…
-All right. I won't insist then…
He got up and walked towards the bookshelf in the opposite side of the room. He reached out for small cream colored portfolio wrapped with a pink satin ribbon nicely tied into a bow, and walked back holding it in front of her face:
-Maybe this will make you feel better…
She looked at him warily. She had seen the portfolio laying there, but she was so irritated she didn't even bother wondering what it was.
-Go ahead…give me some credit.
Ororo shook her head and took the portfolio. Undoing the pink bow, she opened it and retrieved several music scores. Her eyes passed over it, reading the titles carefully…there were all of the newest pieces for piano fresh out of Europe. Schumann, Schubert, Chopin…all that was played in the best theatres of France and Austria.
-I felt it was a shame such musical talent as yours wasted having nothing to play… Maybe studying these will take your mind from your worries. And if I could ask…I'd like to hear them, once you learn.
She gave him a reluctant smile:
-Of course.
-Good. I'll leave your to it. I have some business to attend. Don't wait up for me.
Remy walked away and opened the front door, casting one last glance at the woman as she eagerly read the scores.
He allowed himself a subtle smile. He almost felt like staying with her. Just sitting there and watching as she studied her music. Talk to her for a while, even if she didn't feel like speaking to him. It would feel…. warm, comfortable…sweet even…
But comfort, warmth, sweetness were things he couldn't afford anymore…turning around, he let the endless night engulf him.
—
Mattie Baptiste raised her eyes up to the blue painted two-story house that glowed in the morning sun. She hadn't stepped a foot in there since Remy´s return from France, for some reason she didn't feel comfortable going there anymore. Still she came.
She knew Remy wouldn't be seeing her, and it was better like this. She knocked softly. She instantly recognized the young woman who answered the door.
-Yes?
-Are you…Ororo?
-Yes, I am. -She raised an elegant eyebrow at the woman standing by the door.
-I'm Mattie.
-Oh…Etienne told me about you…come in, please. - Ororo gestured a chair, as the older woman came into the living room-I'm afraid Monsieur Lebeau is asleep, I could…
-No, child, you don't need to…I came here to talk to you.
-Me?
-Yes. You.
-Very well then…I'll get us some tea.
Ororo returned within a few minutes with a tea tray and laid it on the coffee table.
-Etienne told me how devoted you were to Monsieur Lebeau, when he was child. He still has you in very high opinion.. –Ororo said, as she poured Mattie a cup of steamy fresh tea- He is really sorry you two haven't been able to meet more often.
-Is he treating you right? -Mattie asked her, catching the subtle discomfort on the young woman's voice
- He can be a little harsh sometimes… I don't think he does it on purpose…-Ororo told her carefully, trying to avoid telling Mattie anything that would upset her-
Mattie took a deep breath.
-Are you sure everything is all right?
-Pardon, but…
-You don't have to hide things from me, chère…I know he has some problems. Remy is usually a very sweet young man…but he is also a troubled young man.
-I realize that…you know him better than me…if you say so; I suppose he is a good man… when he isn't troubled by something...or drinking… I mean, the conservatory was kind enough…
-I heard about the conservatory…everybody in town is talking about it…I thought it was funny; he never cared much for flowers…
-I'd have to say it's my "fault"… I gave him the idea of having flowers on the garden…I guess he took me a little too seriously…-she smiled nervously. True be told, at this stage of things, she didn't really know what to make of the latest events.
-I saw it…there's quite a lot of primroses…I suppose you suggested that too…
-But…I didn't ask him anything. He's just eccentric like this I guess...I reckon he has some problems. He strikes me as a very lonely person. I'm sorry…I shouldn't be saying those things, I…
-It's quite all right, my child. Just…if anything happens…anything at all…I just wanted you to know you can look for me…
Ororo blinked at the words, completely surprised by their seriousness. But before she could ask anything, the older woman stood:
-I must be going now, I'm afraid I've troubled you enough…
Ororo walked her to the door, still processing Mattie's words in her mind.
—
The open air never felt so sweet before. For some reason, the air inside Lebeau´s house was unbreathable to her. It was thick with something heavy and gloomy, Mattie couldn't quite identify. She shivered. The only places she had felt that kind of energy before where those inhabited by restless spirits. Standing in the middle of the living room of Remy´s house felt like standing in the middle of a cemetery, just as cold and desolated.
Mattie lowered her eyes. What could possibly be wrong in that house? What could have happened to her little boy? She dreaded to even think about it…
And now that young and innocent child was thrown in the middle of it. She didn't worry about Etienne. He was a servant not a slave; he could leave whenever he pleased. But Ororo, she was trapped in there. Both her and Remy were hopelessly trapped by something; something terrible and amorphous, a darkness that filled that house, something thick and nefarious that seemed to drip from every wall…and Mattie had no idea what it could be.
Mattie didn't know what she could do…but she knew she had to do it fast.