Chapter 10.

Beau arrived back at his mother's home in time to join all four ladies at breakfast. His mother looked at him knowingly. "Take care of that little errand Char," she asked gently, before sipping her coffee.

"Yes, Maman," he said as he accepted his morning coffee from the maid, "All taken care of."

"Good," she said through pursed lips. "What are your plans for today?"

"I thought the girls might enjoy seeing the Quarter on a quiet day," Beau said as he cut into the grapefruit on his plate. "See the shops the way we who live here see them, not all bustling with tourist." His eyes moved from Lizzie to his cousin and Sarah. "I've called a few favors in and I've gotten us an invite to the Voodoo museum, Dr. John himself will give you fine ladies a guided tour into the history of magic in our fair city."

"Dr. John LaFayette agreed to this," Hattie questioned with petulance evident in her tone. "What did you blackmail him with this time, Bejou?"

"Maman," the young man gave her a mocking innocent gaze, "Whatever could you mean?" With little effort he had managed to sound shocked by her accusations.

The woman wagged a finger at her son, "I know you," she reminded him. "And I know Dr. John LaFayette."

"It's not what you think," Beau sighed at last, "I told the good Doctor that our Tina-Bell was visiting with friends, and he suggested they might enjoy a tour without tourists…" leaning back he addressed the young ladies. "You see like most cities that depend on tourist trade, we close up tight as a drum on Mondays." He continued to speak as the fruit course was removed, and the aroma of French toast replaced the citrus fragrance in the pretty dining room. "It gives the locals time to clean up from the weekend's festivities, and put things into order once more."

Sarah looked at Beau, "A voodoo museum," she asked skeptically.

"This is N`Orleans darlin'," he teased. "We are a very suppositious lot." His eyes filled with deviltry, "We believe in voodoo, ghosts and even goblins here Char," he watched the reaction, and was not surprised nor displeased by Sarah's sudden edginess.

Hattie saw the reaction, shot her son a warning glace without words. "Dr. John is a wonderful speaker, and explains all the myths and misconceptions," she worked at changing the subject. "And the museum is a national treasure really."

Kristy chipped in, "Besides I need a new grisgirs."

Sarah looked over at her friend, "A what?"

Reaching into her pocket the girl pulled out a little bag and dangled it at Sarah. "A Gris Gris! Mojo bag… juju!" She teased.

Lizzie snorted, "Kristy do you mean to tell me you actually believe in that stuff?"

"More things in heaven and earth," the girl said tucking the bag back in her pocket. She smiled over at Sarah, "Now don't tell me you don't have some Celtic traditions that border on ridicules to the mundane. I've seen some of your stuff remember pal?" She winked at her roomie.

"That's different," Sarah argued from a point of embarrassment.

"Really," Beau now intrigued leaned forward, "Such as what Tina-Bell?"

"She keeps these crazy yarn knot things all over the room," Kristy stated.

Even Lizzie piped in, "That's true Sarah, you do," she wagged a finger at the girl with dark hair, "And you put little mirrors in the windows… And what about that straw Crosóg Bhríde?"

"That's not the same," Sarah groaned.

"Char," Beau purred at her, "Every people have their superstitions and their folk magic." His charming smile disarmed her. "It's nothing to be worried about, it's no worse than tossing salt over your shoulder when it spills."

Biting her lower lip, Sarah looked down at her meal, 'It is if you're working at keeping goblins out of your room,' she thought to herself. She forced herself to eat her breakfast, even though she'd lost her appetite. "Oh come on, no one really believes that stuff," she was working overtime at denying what she herself knew was a truth, magic existed. "It's just superstations."

"Superstations," Beau disagreed gently, "Are a way of coping with what the human mind cannot explain and the spirit will not deny."

Kristy was in full agreement with her cousin. "That's right Sarah; I mean my mother insists on putting a piece of the palms we get from church on Palm Sunday between the mattress and box spring of every bed in our house…."

"My father won't plan a business meeting on a Friday the thirteenth," Lizzie added. "And my mother has dream catchers all over the house."

Beau looked over at Lizzie captivate by her statement, "She puts them all over the house?"

Lizzie nodded with a slight blush on her cheeks. "She says that they keep bad dreams from coming into your day dreams."

"That's charming," Beau purred before turning his gaze back on Sarah. "Char," he said gently to her, and waited until she looked at him. "What the rest of the world denies, we celebrate." Her face seemed unconvinced and he added, "What I'm saying is this is the South, we're proud of our crazy people. We don't hide them up in the attic. We bring 'em right down to the living room and show 'em off. See, Sarah, no one in the South ever asks if you have crazy people in your family. They just ask what side they're on." Hattie watched Sarah, gauging her reactions and her response to her son's overtures. Beau was aware of his mother's observations, and added. "This is N`Orleans Char." He winked at his mother.

"I think maybe," Sarah hesitated, but took a deep breath and steadied herself, "I'd like to see this museum of yours, and hear what this Dr. John has to say."

"An open mind is a wonderful thing," Beau praised her. "Dr. John is expecting us about eleven, and then will give us lunch."

"Gumbo," Kristy asked hopefully. "Dr. John LaFayette makes the best gumbo!" she told her friends excitedly.

"We're going to have lunch," Sarah was having second thoughts, and even third ones. "What's in his gumbo?"

Beau seeing a chance to tease the girl shrugged and said, "Oh the usual, crawdads, shrimp, gator, and whatever is wonderin' in through da swamp…"

--

Jareth's driver was standing at attention as the Goblin King and his Attaché exited the house. He bowed to his King and respectfully opened the door, "Thank you Thornwhistle," Jareth said as he settled into the leather of the back seat.

Thornwhistle, a tall rakish Hobgoblin who'd been in the personal service of the Labyrinth's king for centuries, waited until Artemis was also settled before he shut the door. Once he was behind the wheel he looked in the rear view mirror and asked, "Where to today, Sire?"

"We are going to the Quarter," Jareth said not bothering to look at the driver; he was already checking a black leather itinerary he had carried out to the vehicle. "My first stop will be the shop of Mama Tessa." Trusting his driver, the man of great importance in the back seat busied himself with preparations for his meeting. "Artemis, did you see to the offering I wanted sent to the Lady?"

"I did," the Scholar remarked, "It was sent after we broke our fast."

"Good," Jareth looked at his appointments. "When our business is done we will be making a sojourn over to St. Louis Cemetery number One." He tapped his fingers on the appointment book. "Thornwhistle, did Anton give you the package?"

"It's here in the front seat sir," the driver acknowledged.

"Good," Jareth closed the appointment book and smiled as he relaxed for the short drive into the crescent city.

--

Instead of using his mother's limo and driver, Beau ushered the girls out to his Lexis. "More fun than being so obvious," he winked at the trio of girls. "Kristy, why don't you sit shotgun up front with me, and Sarah and Lizzie can be our honored passengers." With his passengers settled in the handsome young Creole pulled his sleek car out of the family estate and out onto the street. "We'll be passing the usual tourist traps up," He explained. "It's better to see N`Orleans for the city she is. Basically like a lot of other old cities, she's a mixture of neighborhoods."

Once past the stately houses of the Garden District, they moved into an area that was less affluent, and yet just as stately. All the houses seemed to have hanging baskets of ferns and flowers in bloom. "It's fortunate that you girls are here now," Beau stated as he skillfully maneuvered the car. "A few weeks ago there was far less color here," he waved at the houses. "We are having a glorious spring." He used secondary streets so the girls saw the real New Orleans. He took his time, not wanting his guests to miss a single thing.

Once they arrived in the famous Quarter he drove to the Historic Voodoo Museum on Dumaine Street, and pulled his sedan to the rear where an older man was waiting for them. The man was dressed in a long almost caftan looking garment in dove gray. His face was tranquil, and wise, and if one didn't know that he was a voodoo priest one would mistake him for a kindly old grandfather. Seeing Kristy in the front passenger's seat of the vehicle, he smiled widely and waved at the girl.

Beau parked in a space behind the building and alighted from the car, "Papa John," he greeted him warmly. "Thank you for having us in."

Kristy alighted and ran to the open arms of the man in the caftan. "Papa!" she too greeted him with warmth.

"L'enfant terrible," the man addressed Beau with a scowl that never reached his beautiful eyes, "At least you bring the enfant back to see Papa," then he smiled at Beau, "I don't get to see enough of you two."

Kristy waved her friends out of the car, "Papa, I want you to meet my roommates from College," her voice was full of excitement. "That gorgeous blonde is Lizzie Braden, and that raven haired beauty is Sarah Williams. Girls this is Dr. John LaFayette, one of the best friends our family has ever had."

Lizzie moved forward first with her hand extended. "Good to meet you Sir," she greeted the smiling elder.

"And you Miss Braden," he accepted the hand keeping one arm about Kristy.

A bit more hesitantly Sarah came forward. "Dr. LaFayette," she didn't extend her hand, and kept a reserved polite distance.

"Miss Williams," his voice dropped an octave, and lowered in volume. His face, while still smiling a greeting seemed more serious. He took a sudden sharp breath and seemed to shudder slightly. "Well," he covered quickly. "Let us go in." He turned and ushered his guests into the rear of the lower floor of the Museum. "This is not the usual place I begin my tours, however you are not the usual tourists."

Beau allowed the girls to follow the Voodoo Priest into his inner sanctum and he brought up the rear, catching sight of a long sleek black limo cursing slowly through the street they had just come off of. "Interesting," he said to himself as he watched it pass by. "So the games begin, Tonton." He mused.

Inside the rear of the museum the elderly man began to explain the differences between real Voodoo and what Hollywood had been presenting as real to the public for years. "Those of us who practice, do try to keep a sense of humor about the misconceptions and the foolish movies," he informed his guests. "Mama Tessa is said to have the larges library of Voodoo films, and the woman speaks out loud and clear on the mistakes made."

"How is Mama Tessa," Beau asked casually.

"Still not over the last time you saw fit to filch from her garden," he warned Beau with a wagging finger.

"It was a prank," Beau said defensively.

"That prank cost her two years of hard work on a new rose," the old man scoffed. "And you know how serious that woman is about her roses!" He smiled at the girls, "We don't call this one L'enfant terrible for nothing."

Beau didn't hide his mirth at the title, "A designation I wear as my personal trophy!"

"A bit too proudly at times," John warned; "But then what can one expect when you consider your role models."

"Yes," Beau agreed casting a glace over his shoulder to the back of the shop and the door they had entered. "What can one expect?"

Seeming to understand the unsaid meaning, John cleared his throat and continued the tour.

--

Jareth alighted from the car and told Artemis to wait there for him. He took a potted rose from the front seat of the Limo before walking up to the front door of the modest gunshot house with a garden within a cyclone fence that was less decretive than some of the surrounding iron ones. He tapped on the front door with his cane, when the door was opened by a pretty young Jamaican woman he smiled. "Monsieur Pommeroi, to see Mama Tessa," he informed the colorfully dressed young woman.

"Monsieur Pommeroi," the girl gave him a polite bow, "Mama is waiting for you in the garden room. If you'll come with me," she opened the door to allow him access.

"Merci," he thanked her gently and followed her out to the rear room of the long narrow house.

Tessa was trimming potted plants in the sunny room at the rear of her home. "Thank you, Lora." She waved the younger woman off. "So Mohamed is coming to the mountain?" she questioned glibly.

"Peace offering," he extended the rare and prized rose to the Voodoo Queen.

"Maiden's dream," she gasped looking at the two toned peach and cream colored buds on the canes of the plant. "You are willing to part with this?"

"It seems the least I can do," Jareth sighed, "After all."

Mama Tessa accepted the pot with shaky hands. "For this I would let those greasy little monsters of yours parade up and down Basin Street in my musorr."

"I don't think they'd pull it off as well as you do," Jareth said looking at her colorful head scarf and the intricate way she wrapped it. "So I won't mention the offer, if you don't mind."

Motioning for the Goblin King to be seated, the Jamaican Voodoo Queen also took a seat, "May I offer you tea?"

"I cannot stay," Jareth said after he was seated, "I merely wished to give you my little peace offering and ask that you inform me if you become aware of anything else. You see, Tessa, I'm stuck on this side for a bit."

She nodded, "Labyrinth shut down," she said as if she had been part of the conversation when Hoggle arrived. "But before it did, you get visitors, yes?"

"Hardly visitors," Jareth scoffed gently, "My gardener and one of my guards." He leaned on his walking stick lightly. "The Labyrinth must have felt they were safer on this side."

"More likely they be needed here," countered the Jamaican woman.

"Indeed," questioned the King before giving her a skeptical smile.

"Indeed," she repeated firmly.

Jareth rose from his seat and drew a long breath, "We are good, yes?"

"Of course," affirmed the Queen as she too rose. When Jareth turned to leave she spoke hastily. "You mind a bit of advice from an old friend?"

Jareth turned, "Advice," he questioned.

"Relationships are like roses," she said wittily. "They take cultivation to come to bloom, it cannot be rushed."

Amused and touched by her concern, Jareth bent toward her, pressed his lips to her cheek and whispered, "Thank you Tessa, I'll keep that in mind." He winked as he withdrew, "I can see myself out, enjoy your roses." He waved a hand and three of the blossoms burst into flower.

Looking at the pot with its lovely fragrant and magical blooms Tessa groused; "Smart assed Goblin."

Jareth once more in the car turned to Artemis, "How would you like to take lunch in the Quarter?"

Slightly suspicious, Artemis asked, "Is there something or someone you wish to make aware of your presence?"

"Both," Jareth mused, "Both." He laughed gently to himself, "Artemis old man, what do you know about cultivating roses?"

--

On the second floor of the museum were the living quarters for Dr. John. He had a lovely it of roof top garden, and here he served his guests their lunch. He ladled the spicy soup into deep bowls while Beau sliced the fresh loaf of French bread that was sitting on the table. "There are those who refer to our section of the Quarter as the New Babylon," mused John as he served the meal. "I wish I could believe it was in reference to our wonderful hanging gardens, however I know better." He sighed as he took his own seat. "At least it's quieter now than the shenanigans that go on just before Lent begins. Mardi Gras is getting to be a bit much, and all these thrill seeking television cameras… talking young ladies into outrageous behavior."

"C'est la vie", Beau sighed as he began to work on the brick of cheese John had brought out to the table earlier.

"Easy for you to say, young man," the elder accused. "You happen to like seeing young ladies body parts hanging out."

Kristy hid her laugh behind her hand, as Lizzie looked away. Sarah turned and looked at the son of their hostess and raised a brow his way. "Guilty," Beau purred happily before adding for the Doctor's benefit, "And you would too if you were a decade younger Papa." He looked sheepishly at the two young ladies he was not related to, "Can anyone blame me with such lovely examples of woman hood about?"

Kristy gasped, and Lizzie crossed her arms over her bosom, "Not happenin' pal," she said, Sarah ignored the suggestion.

The meal progressed with the girls asking questions of the host and having them answered. When they finished he excused himself to answer a phone call. Sarah walked to the edge of the iron rail with its ornate decorations. She looked over the edge down onto the street below with the locals milling about and a few strolling about. Down the street was a small street café, and she could hear the sounds of people making orders. The smells of spices used in the shops and in the café filled the air, marrying with the scents of the flowers in hanging baskets. Sarah was about to turn away when a man strolling caught her eye, actually it was the color of the man's hair that captured her attention. Coifed in a soft wave, caught back by a leather strap, the hair was an unusual shade of blond. Her hand gripped the rail and her knuckles went white. She watched the tall, willowy individual leisurely walk on the promenade. Holding her breath, she silently willed him to look up, he didn't.

Dr. John came back onto the roof garden, his face was concerned. "I must apologies Beau," he moved to the young man. "I have to excuse myself, a client is in need." He said firmly.

Beau understood, "Of course, Papa," he motioned the girls to join him. "We will of course depart so you may treat your client. Thank you for having us."

"Yes," Kristy said taking a moment to hug the old man. "Thank you for today Papa."

"Let me see you down," John said gently. "I've something for each of you." As they returned to the area they had entered in by, John reached over a counter. He pulled linen bag out of a basket and handed it to Kristy, "This is what you requested," he kissed her forehead. To Lizzie he handed a little carved statue, a goddess figurine. "This is for you Miss Braden," he turned to Sarah, and motioned her to step away from the others. He slipped something on her wrist; she looked down to see strange beads. "Do not be afraid of knowing what others are afraid to believe," he said to her in a voice that was for her ears alone.

Sarah looked at the beads, "What are they?"

"Orisha," John said lightly. "This one is dedicated to Oya, very powerful in the spirit world."

Sarah looked at the beads now on her wrist. "It's kind of pretty…" she looked at the little white beads that separated the pink and wine colored ones. "Skulls?" she asked.

"Alligator teeth skull beads are a powerful protection," John nodded. "Not something you find in tourist shops." He assured the girl who made a face. "Keep this with you always, bebe."

"I will," she promised. "Thank you, Doctor…"

"You may call me Papa," he teased as he placed an arm over her shoulder. "Now off with you young people, have a good time."

Sarah settled into the back seat of the Lexis, looking at the crystal and stones in the bracelet with wonder. It was as if the bracelet had a spirit of its own, and the copper embellishments were warming against her skin. Beau pulled back into traffic and suggested a bit of shopping at one of the river front markets. Sarah only nodded deafly as the others agreed to the suggestion.