June 6, 1999
Sorry I ain't had much to say for a while, dear Diary. I'm figuring that I found you on a good day for writing about, though. I can't believe it's finally here, but I'm making my debut tonight at the annual Cotillion Ball to be held inside a glittering ballroom adjacent to the historic Cabildo, over on Chartres St. I was expecting it to be an amazing and magical day, and it was for a time, but...well, let me start from scratch.
I've spent the day getting ready, fussing with my hair and all, yelling at Alida to help me with this and that and talking on the phone with my cousins about their advice for me about filling out my dance card for after the presentations tonight. You got to do charity work and stuff in the year before Cotillion, to show that you got something going for you, you know? I was a volunteer up to the local hospital for awhile---wore one of them candy-striped uniforms, too---but I got tired of them folks asking me to do stuff. Some of them old ladies was more fussy than Gran'pere! I quit that and went to volunteering at the library, stuck teaching them dumb little no- nothings how to read, use the filing cards and to find books on the shelf. I thought Cotillion Day would never get here so as I could give it up. It was hard on me and Remy, on account of he and I couldn't sneak off and get together after my "walking home" by Julien after school, like we've been doing under my family's noses most afternoons. I sure miss him when I can't see him; we need each other to talk to, and it's lonely when we can't be together.
After I wrapped my hair in rag-curlers, I was filing my nails when I heard something hitting my window. Sounded like little pops---tiny fireworks, I mean. When I turned to see what was going on, it looked like fireflies were flying up to the window and then exploding! One, two, three...by the fifth one, I was starting to figure out what was up, just as number five landed against one of the frames and made a pane of glass glow like a star and explode into a hundred pieces. Going to the window, I leaned out far enough to see the source of the trouble. Figures it was Remy; he was charging up bits of pea gravel between his fingertips and then tossing them at my window. Dumb boy ain't been house-broken yet, so how can I expect him to have better sense?! I waved a fist at him to get him to stop and signaled him to wait, then threw on my pink satin robe and flew down the back steps and out through the kitchen garden at the back of the house.
When I finally reached him where he stood under a tree in the pastureland behind the house, I popped him upside the head with the flat of my hand. "What you want to go making noise like THAT for?!" I yelled, with every bit of my Cajun showing forth! He just grinned slyly, like that boy always does at me. "Only way I could get your attention, chere," he said, "Can't go up to your house and knock on the front door, now, can I? Your kin would carve me up and serve me with grits and eggs for breakfast." He's right, too. Things are bad enough between the Guilds at the best of times, but there's been a lot of fighting on the back streets between our people lately and things could only get worse if it were found out that the Princess Of The Assassins was keeping time with the adopted son of the Patriarch Of The Thieves. Remy's life wouldn't be worth a strand of Mardi Gras beads if we got caught together. Still, it was so good to see him that I threw my arms around him...but I pushed him back when he started into nuzzling my neck. He's starting in to growing hair on his face, but the silly thing ain't discovered the razor yet. Time his papa had a talk with him...about a lot of things, but I get the impression that Jean-Luc LeBeau's only got the use of Remy's weird powers on his mind and not much care for anything else about him.
Remy handed me a little package wrapped kind of poorly in flour sack material and tied together with an old ribbon. "I brung you this for you making your debut tonight, petite," he told me as he held it out to me. "I can't be taking no more stolen presents from you, no!" I told him, thinking back to that necklace he'd given me years before that Gran'pere had such a fit over. "Ain't nothing I stole, Belle," he said, urging me to take it from his hands. "I made it all by myself---even soldered on the hinges in shop class, c'est vrie, chere,"* he assured me. "Mr. De Longpre, the shop master? He done said I done a real good job on it, too. Said it was one of the best projects anyone had ever done in one of his Shop classes. Ain't often any of them teachers pays me any mind, Belle; most of them sooner spit than to look at me. Please take it; I made it just for you."
Taking it from him, I pulled the wrapping off in a hurry to see what it was; I was so fast that I guess the material went flying, causing Remy to reach out and grab it before it fell into the tall grass. And there it was, Remy's gift: a gorgeous little stained glass jewelry case with a red velvet lining. "Aw Remy, it's so beautiful!" I told him, taking the opportunity to kiss his cheek. "If I'd known you'd do that, I would have made it bigger, darlin'!" he chirped, then leaned into me for a real lip-to-lip kiss. I couldn't resist him; it was the best way to show him how much I love him--- how much I'll always love him.
After a pause, most of which he spent looking at his feet, he said, "I sure wish it was me that was taking you to Cotillion tonight. Every time I think about Andre'-Michel escorting you and them other boys planning to dance with you and all, it tears me up inside. You're my girl; it ought to be me dancing with you." He makes me so mad when he talks about things like that! "It can't BE, Remy," I reminded him, "...so why are you bringing it up?" He stood there looking defiant, almost angry. "I could tell him, your grandfather," he said in his cavalier manner. "I could tell him how much I love you and ask for your hand. I'd find a way to win him over, me; you know I could do it. I can win over anybody if they give me the chance; I got a way of charming folks, if I catch them the right way, you know..."
Crazy boy. He made me so mad with that talk, with him being willing to put our lives in jeopardy for something that could never work, hypnotizing folks or not. But still, I know how desperate he feels about us and how much it hurts him that we can't be together like other kids in love. I fumbled with my new jewelry box while I thought about what he'd said. "You know you can't just talk Gran'pere into giving you a chance, Remy," I reminded him. "Maybe if you didn't have those creepy-looking eyes of yours, then you could..." That's all that had to come out of my stupid mouth to make his face cloud over with hurt; I'd never seen him look so sad. I hadn't meant to insult him; heaven knows he gets enough of that from other folks. Those eyes---they almost went from glowing crimson to as black as coal at that moment, and he turned away fast when he knew I'd seen them filling up with tears.
"You didn't have to say that, Belle," he said quietly...mournfully. "I know how hideous I am to everybody; ain't like I need reminding. I just thought...well, what right I got to think about being like normal folks anyways, z'huh?" His facial expression was so pained; it was difficult to watch him while my words ate away like acid at his soul. Suddenly, in Remy's hand, the cotton material and ribbon began to smolder away, growing hot white, golden and pink as they began to sizzle and spark from his internal energy being infused into them, only he didn't even seem to notice that it was happening. Finally recognizing the look of dread on my face, Remy looked down at his hand and shrugged, nonchalantly tossing the former wrapping material over his shoulder. It went off with a BOOM that ricocheted off of all of the trees, our garden shed and our barn. Sheepishly, Remy looked over his shoulder and then, turning back to me, he blinked sadly, saying, "Sorry about that, Belle. It just happens sometimes when I don't mean to do it; can't always control it so much, no. Blew up Papa's best rake a few weeks back without meaning to; he was hopping mad for days and figured I did it on purpose 'cause I didn't want to clean up the yard. But it weren't true, no; it just...happened." His head dropped ruefully, his face reflecting his sorrow at what he sometimes thinks of as a worse curse than those fiery eyes of his.
"'Xpect you'd best be getting back to the house," he advised, finally resigned to the fact that we couldn't change anything about tonight. I felt so bad that I wished that the ground would have just opened up and swallowed me whole, right then and there. I tried to apologize to him, I really did, but the right words just wouldn't come out. He was already walking away, saying, "Got stuff Papa wants me to do, yeah. Have a good time at your party. I know you'll be the prettiest gal there." I wanted to reach out, to grab him and hold him to me and make him feel better...make him feel loved, but I couldn't make my feet move toward him. I love him, sure, but is that enough to risk making my family hate me and want to kill him? I just don't know.
I was almost to the back door again when I heard hooting and hollering down toward the post road that intersects with our long, winding dirt drive. It was mean, vicious-sounding yelling, like one of them sick lynching parties I've heard tell of. Running upstairs, I got to my window and stuck my body out as far as I could, trying to get a look down the lane. By that time, I could also hear engines revving up and what sounded like the cracking of a whip tearing at the air. Grabbing my jeans and one of Julien's old flannel shirts off the clothesline, I pulled them on and ran toward the road as fast as my legs could go. Suspecting the worst, I checked my back pocket for my switchblade before I got too far from the house. What I saw on the other side of the road drained the color from my cheeks.
Across the post road in a field of reeds, tall grasses and pampas stands an ancient mirliton tree that's just forward of a grove of pecan trees. Having been there since the Earth cooled, it has a wide, high trunk...and that's where I saw Remy. He was trussed up by rope, face forward with his bare chest flat against the trunk of the tree, his arms behind his back, bound at his wrists. Tied so unmercifully tight, his body was trying to slump at the knees, but the ropes wouldn't allow it. And there was my insane brother standing behind Remy and wielding a rawhide whip with a worn leather handle. Even from a distance, I could see the deep, long gashes he had cut into Remy's arms and back, with at least fifteen of our cousins and friends standing around cheering him on. You'd have thought it was a tailgate party for the New Orleans Saints the way they were carrying on.
Pushing and shoving my way through the throng of them cowards and up behind Julien, I grabbed his forearm as he was about to come down hard on Remy again. All the kin folk started jeering and hooting as I yelled at him to stop; they got louder when he pushed me down and threatened to give me some of the same he was dishing out to Remy. "Get her out of here before I give her a piece of what her freak boyfriend is getting!" he told cousin Jacques- Pierre. "She's asking for it, shaming the family by having anything to do with this thieving trash." I glared at J-P like I'd kill him if he was crazy enough to touch me, and he knew I'd make good on it, too, so he backed off. Over my head, I heard the crack of the whip and knew that it had found Remy's shredded back again.
Jumping forward, I threw my legs out and connected with the back of Julien's knees, causing his weight to shift and force him backwards. He lost his balance and fell to the ground; that's when I got him. The cousins backed away from us as I straddled Julien, my knife hovering just above his heart. "I swear on Gran'mama Clothilde's crypt that if you ever put your hands on Remy again, I'll plant this knife so deep into you that we'll see daylight coming out the other side, ya hear?!" Julien just laughed in my face, loud and long. "You can just bet that I'll keep that promise of yours, little sister, but the hole will be through the heart of that stinking little thief you've thrown your easy virtue away on. Now get off of me; it's over...for now. Jules! Jacques-Pierre! Gris Gris! We go!"
I let him rise and watched as Julien and the assembled slobs either walked away or jumped on their cycles and rode off down the road, their spinning wheels tossing dust and pebbles into the air as they did. Julien turned toward Remy and spit out a final warning to him. "I let you live today only for the pleasure of ripping you apart later, thief! I find you on Assassins' turf again, the final beat of your filthy heart will be in my hand. Remember that!"
Allowing Julien to just walk away tore me apart, but I had to let him leave for Remy's sake because I could see that he was bleeding badly and getting weaker by the second. Once all of the Assassins had left, I went to Remy's side and cut the rope away from his wrists, then began to cut away at the ropes binding him to the tree trunk. As I hacked away at the one twisted around and through his legs, I saw a faint pink light above my head and heard the higher rope sizzling. It was comforting to know that Remy was coherent enough to use his powers. "Pity you couldn't manage that for getting yourself loose, before they'd done this to you," I told him, like the poor thing needed reminding about his sometimey explosive skills. Remy's head tilted back to look at me through them sore, squinted eyes, and then he told me, "I could have gotten free, chere, but I didn't want to do it that way." Ticked off more than a titch, I stood up and stared at him, mystified by his statement. "What do you mean you could have gotten free?! Your hands was tied behind you, stupid. You don't have to play the hero with me, Remy; you know that. Ain't no shame in being beaten when it weren't a fair fight---sixteen against one and every one of them a mad dog." Imagine him trying to show off to his best friend. I'd said the wrong thing to him...again, and I was sorry the minute I did.
Remy sunk to the moist grass below the tree once the ropes gave way, his knees sagging and then crumbling beneath him. Rubbing his wrists, he carefully leaned back against the trunk, struggling to find a patch of skin which hadn't been torn away to support his weight on. "I didn't need my hands to get free, gal," he sighed, wincing in pain as he touched bruises on his arms. "I found out by accident one day that I could get hold of my powers in other ways. My face was close up against the tree; I could have pushed my power out through my tongue, you know---put it up against the bark to blow it apart, yeah. It would have taken more effort than I've ever used before, but I'm figuring I could've managed it. Didn't do it on account of it would have destroyed this poor old tree. It's been here for hundreds and hundreds of years; got birds and squirrels living in it, too, yeah. Ain't right for me to destroy her just 'cause I was dumb enough to be caught by your kinfolk while walking down the road. 'Sides, they wouldn't have known I was here if that wrapping cloth hadn't blown up in my hand back there; that's my fault, too. Better for me to take the beating and learn me a lesson from it. 'Sides, I would have killed everyone within a mile if I'd blown up the tree, more than likely, not to mention blowing up your pretty house, too. I would never do that to you, chere, especially not on your special day, no. May be nothing but a swamp rat with no home training, but I got some manners, me."
I left Remy and ran back to the house to call his people at his Papa's restaurant to come and get him, him being too weak and in pain to walk all the way back to the rowboat he used to get to my end of the bayou. Of course, I blocked my caller identification when I called, but I'm sure Remy's big brother, Henri, knew who it was on the other end of that phone line. Explaining to him only that Remy was injured badly and needed him, I made sure he understood to be careful coming after him, being that the Assassins would be watching. After I hung up, I went back to getting myself ready for the ball; I was late enough as it was, what with all that happened today. Couldn't help but think of Remy out there waiting for help, but I just couldn't do anything more for him. When Andre'-Michel come to get me later, I took a good look out by the tree to make sure that I didn't see Remy out there, but he was gone by that time. I had just hoped that Henri had gotten to him before anyone else came up on him. That's all he would have needed---more trouble when he was in no shape to protect himself- --the poor thing.
I'm too tired now to write down all that happened at the Cotillion; didn't think writing all of this would take so long. Got to get me some sleep, so I'll write about that tomorrow. All I can say now is that even though I had lots of the boys fussing all over me and made the other girls pretty darn jealous, in the back of my mind I could only see Remy. He was as real as day in my mind's eye, just as if he was standing out in the cold, nose pressed up to the frosted windows, wishing with all of his heart that he could be part of the grandeur of it all...wishing it was he who was dancing with me. How I wish it had been Remy, even for just one dance. But it can't ever be; he's always going to be on the outside looking in, no matter where he goes in the world.
'Night for now, Diary. I'll tell you about the ball tomorrow! Meanwhile, here's my tussy mussy flower arrangement I wore tonight for safekeeping...
Sorry I ain't had much to say for a while, dear Diary. I'm figuring that I found you on a good day for writing about, though. I can't believe it's finally here, but I'm making my debut tonight at the annual Cotillion Ball to be held inside a glittering ballroom adjacent to the historic Cabildo, over on Chartres St. I was expecting it to be an amazing and magical day, and it was for a time, but...well, let me start from scratch.
I've spent the day getting ready, fussing with my hair and all, yelling at Alida to help me with this and that and talking on the phone with my cousins about their advice for me about filling out my dance card for after the presentations tonight. You got to do charity work and stuff in the year before Cotillion, to show that you got something going for you, you know? I was a volunteer up to the local hospital for awhile---wore one of them candy-striped uniforms, too---but I got tired of them folks asking me to do stuff. Some of them old ladies was more fussy than Gran'pere! I quit that and went to volunteering at the library, stuck teaching them dumb little no- nothings how to read, use the filing cards and to find books on the shelf. I thought Cotillion Day would never get here so as I could give it up. It was hard on me and Remy, on account of he and I couldn't sneak off and get together after my "walking home" by Julien after school, like we've been doing under my family's noses most afternoons. I sure miss him when I can't see him; we need each other to talk to, and it's lonely when we can't be together.
After I wrapped my hair in rag-curlers, I was filing my nails when I heard something hitting my window. Sounded like little pops---tiny fireworks, I mean. When I turned to see what was going on, it looked like fireflies were flying up to the window and then exploding! One, two, three...by the fifth one, I was starting to figure out what was up, just as number five landed against one of the frames and made a pane of glass glow like a star and explode into a hundred pieces. Going to the window, I leaned out far enough to see the source of the trouble. Figures it was Remy; he was charging up bits of pea gravel between his fingertips and then tossing them at my window. Dumb boy ain't been house-broken yet, so how can I expect him to have better sense?! I waved a fist at him to get him to stop and signaled him to wait, then threw on my pink satin robe and flew down the back steps and out through the kitchen garden at the back of the house.
When I finally reached him where he stood under a tree in the pastureland behind the house, I popped him upside the head with the flat of my hand. "What you want to go making noise like THAT for?!" I yelled, with every bit of my Cajun showing forth! He just grinned slyly, like that boy always does at me. "Only way I could get your attention, chere," he said, "Can't go up to your house and knock on the front door, now, can I? Your kin would carve me up and serve me with grits and eggs for breakfast." He's right, too. Things are bad enough between the Guilds at the best of times, but there's been a lot of fighting on the back streets between our people lately and things could only get worse if it were found out that the Princess Of The Assassins was keeping time with the adopted son of the Patriarch Of The Thieves. Remy's life wouldn't be worth a strand of Mardi Gras beads if we got caught together. Still, it was so good to see him that I threw my arms around him...but I pushed him back when he started into nuzzling my neck. He's starting in to growing hair on his face, but the silly thing ain't discovered the razor yet. Time his papa had a talk with him...about a lot of things, but I get the impression that Jean-Luc LeBeau's only got the use of Remy's weird powers on his mind and not much care for anything else about him.
Remy handed me a little package wrapped kind of poorly in flour sack material and tied together with an old ribbon. "I brung you this for you making your debut tonight, petite," he told me as he held it out to me. "I can't be taking no more stolen presents from you, no!" I told him, thinking back to that necklace he'd given me years before that Gran'pere had such a fit over. "Ain't nothing I stole, Belle," he said, urging me to take it from his hands. "I made it all by myself---even soldered on the hinges in shop class, c'est vrie, chere,"* he assured me. "Mr. De Longpre, the shop master? He done said I done a real good job on it, too. Said it was one of the best projects anyone had ever done in one of his Shop classes. Ain't often any of them teachers pays me any mind, Belle; most of them sooner spit than to look at me. Please take it; I made it just for you."
Taking it from him, I pulled the wrapping off in a hurry to see what it was; I was so fast that I guess the material went flying, causing Remy to reach out and grab it before it fell into the tall grass. And there it was, Remy's gift: a gorgeous little stained glass jewelry case with a red velvet lining. "Aw Remy, it's so beautiful!" I told him, taking the opportunity to kiss his cheek. "If I'd known you'd do that, I would have made it bigger, darlin'!" he chirped, then leaned into me for a real lip-to-lip kiss. I couldn't resist him; it was the best way to show him how much I love him--- how much I'll always love him.
After a pause, most of which he spent looking at his feet, he said, "I sure wish it was me that was taking you to Cotillion tonight. Every time I think about Andre'-Michel escorting you and them other boys planning to dance with you and all, it tears me up inside. You're my girl; it ought to be me dancing with you." He makes me so mad when he talks about things like that! "It can't BE, Remy," I reminded him, "...so why are you bringing it up?" He stood there looking defiant, almost angry. "I could tell him, your grandfather," he said in his cavalier manner. "I could tell him how much I love you and ask for your hand. I'd find a way to win him over, me; you know I could do it. I can win over anybody if they give me the chance; I got a way of charming folks, if I catch them the right way, you know..."
Crazy boy. He made me so mad with that talk, with him being willing to put our lives in jeopardy for something that could never work, hypnotizing folks or not. But still, I know how desperate he feels about us and how much it hurts him that we can't be together like other kids in love. I fumbled with my new jewelry box while I thought about what he'd said. "You know you can't just talk Gran'pere into giving you a chance, Remy," I reminded him. "Maybe if you didn't have those creepy-looking eyes of yours, then you could..." That's all that had to come out of my stupid mouth to make his face cloud over with hurt; I'd never seen him look so sad. I hadn't meant to insult him; heaven knows he gets enough of that from other folks. Those eyes---they almost went from glowing crimson to as black as coal at that moment, and he turned away fast when he knew I'd seen them filling up with tears.
"You didn't have to say that, Belle," he said quietly...mournfully. "I know how hideous I am to everybody; ain't like I need reminding. I just thought...well, what right I got to think about being like normal folks anyways, z'huh?" His facial expression was so pained; it was difficult to watch him while my words ate away like acid at his soul. Suddenly, in Remy's hand, the cotton material and ribbon began to smolder away, growing hot white, golden and pink as they began to sizzle and spark from his internal energy being infused into them, only he didn't even seem to notice that it was happening. Finally recognizing the look of dread on my face, Remy looked down at his hand and shrugged, nonchalantly tossing the former wrapping material over his shoulder. It went off with a BOOM that ricocheted off of all of the trees, our garden shed and our barn. Sheepishly, Remy looked over his shoulder and then, turning back to me, he blinked sadly, saying, "Sorry about that, Belle. It just happens sometimes when I don't mean to do it; can't always control it so much, no. Blew up Papa's best rake a few weeks back without meaning to; he was hopping mad for days and figured I did it on purpose 'cause I didn't want to clean up the yard. But it weren't true, no; it just...happened." His head dropped ruefully, his face reflecting his sorrow at what he sometimes thinks of as a worse curse than those fiery eyes of his.
"'Xpect you'd best be getting back to the house," he advised, finally resigned to the fact that we couldn't change anything about tonight. I felt so bad that I wished that the ground would have just opened up and swallowed me whole, right then and there. I tried to apologize to him, I really did, but the right words just wouldn't come out. He was already walking away, saying, "Got stuff Papa wants me to do, yeah. Have a good time at your party. I know you'll be the prettiest gal there." I wanted to reach out, to grab him and hold him to me and make him feel better...make him feel loved, but I couldn't make my feet move toward him. I love him, sure, but is that enough to risk making my family hate me and want to kill him? I just don't know.
I was almost to the back door again when I heard hooting and hollering down toward the post road that intersects with our long, winding dirt drive. It was mean, vicious-sounding yelling, like one of them sick lynching parties I've heard tell of. Running upstairs, I got to my window and stuck my body out as far as I could, trying to get a look down the lane. By that time, I could also hear engines revving up and what sounded like the cracking of a whip tearing at the air. Grabbing my jeans and one of Julien's old flannel shirts off the clothesline, I pulled them on and ran toward the road as fast as my legs could go. Suspecting the worst, I checked my back pocket for my switchblade before I got too far from the house. What I saw on the other side of the road drained the color from my cheeks.
Across the post road in a field of reeds, tall grasses and pampas stands an ancient mirliton tree that's just forward of a grove of pecan trees. Having been there since the Earth cooled, it has a wide, high trunk...and that's where I saw Remy. He was trussed up by rope, face forward with his bare chest flat against the trunk of the tree, his arms behind his back, bound at his wrists. Tied so unmercifully tight, his body was trying to slump at the knees, but the ropes wouldn't allow it. And there was my insane brother standing behind Remy and wielding a rawhide whip with a worn leather handle. Even from a distance, I could see the deep, long gashes he had cut into Remy's arms and back, with at least fifteen of our cousins and friends standing around cheering him on. You'd have thought it was a tailgate party for the New Orleans Saints the way they were carrying on.
Pushing and shoving my way through the throng of them cowards and up behind Julien, I grabbed his forearm as he was about to come down hard on Remy again. All the kin folk started jeering and hooting as I yelled at him to stop; they got louder when he pushed me down and threatened to give me some of the same he was dishing out to Remy. "Get her out of here before I give her a piece of what her freak boyfriend is getting!" he told cousin Jacques- Pierre. "She's asking for it, shaming the family by having anything to do with this thieving trash." I glared at J-P like I'd kill him if he was crazy enough to touch me, and he knew I'd make good on it, too, so he backed off. Over my head, I heard the crack of the whip and knew that it had found Remy's shredded back again.
Jumping forward, I threw my legs out and connected with the back of Julien's knees, causing his weight to shift and force him backwards. He lost his balance and fell to the ground; that's when I got him. The cousins backed away from us as I straddled Julien, my knife hovering just above his heart. "I swear on Gran'mama Clothilde's crypt that if you ever put your hands on Remy again, I'll plant this knife so deep into you that we'll see daylight coming out the other side, ya hear?!" Julien just laughed in my face, loud and long. "You can just bet that I'll keep that promise of yours, little sister, but the hole will be through the heart of that stinking little thief you've thrown your easy virtue away on. Now get off of me; it's over...for now. Jules! Jacques-Pierre! Gris Gris! We go!"
I let him rise and watched as Julien and the assembled slobs either walked away or jumped on their cycles and rode off down the road, their spinning wheels tossing dust and pebbles into the air as they did. Julien turned toward Remy and spit out a final warning to him. "I let you live today only for the pleasure of ripping you apart later, thief! I find you on Assassins' turf again, the final beat of your filthy heart will be in my hand. Remember that!"
Allowing Julien to just walk away tore me apart, but I had to let him leave for Remy's sake because I could see that he was bleeding badly and getting weaker by the second. Once all of the Assassins had left, I went to Remy's side and cut the rope away from his wrists, then began to cut away at the ropes binding him to the tree trunk. As I hacked away at the one twisted around and through his legs, I saw a faint pink light above my head and heard the higher rope sizzling. It was comforting to know that Remy was coherent enough to use his powers. "Pity you couldn't manage that for getting yourself loose, before they'd done this to you," I told him, like the poor thing needed reminding about his sometimey explosive skills. Remy's head tilted back to look at me through them sore, squinted eyes, and then he told me, "I could have gotten free, chere, but I didn't want to do it that way." Ticked off more than a titch, I stood up and stared at him, mystified by his statement. "What do you mean you could have gotten free?! Your hands was tied behind you, stupid. You don't have to play the hero with me, Remy; you know that. Ain't no shame in being beaten when it weren't a fair fight---sixteen against one and every one of them a mad dog." Imagine him trying to show off to his best friend. I'd said the wrong thing to him...again, and I was sorry the minute I did.
Remy sunk to the moist grass below the tree once the ropes gave way, his knees sagging and then crumbling beneath him. Rubbing his wrists, he carefully leaned back against the trunk, struggling to find a patch of skin which hadn't been torn away to support his weight on. "I didn't need my hands to get free, gal," he sighed, wincing in pain as he touched bruises on his arms. "I found out by accident one day that I could get hold of my powers in other ways. My face was close up against the tree; I could have pushed my power out through my tongue, you know---put it up against the bark to blow it apart, yeah. It would have taken more effort than I've ever used before, but I'm figuring I could've managed it. Didn't do it on account of it would have destroyed this poor old tree. It's been here for hundreds and hundreds of years; got birds and squirrels living in it, too, yeah. Ain't right for me to destroy her just 'cause I was dumb enough to be caught by your kinfolk while walking down the road. 'Sides, they wouldn't have known I was here if that wrapping cloth hadn't blown up in my hand back there; that's my fault, too. Better for me to take the beating and learn me a lesson from it. 'Sides, I would have killed everyone within a mile if I'd blown up the tree, more than likely, not to mention blowing up your pretty house, too. I would never do that to you, chere, especially not on your special day, no. May be nothing but a swamp rat with no home training, but I got some manners, me."
I left Remy and ran back to the house to call his people at his Papa's restaurant to come and get him, him being too weak and in pain to walk all the way back to the rowboat he used to get to my end of the bayou. Of course, I blocked my caller identification when I called, but I'm sure Remy's big brother, Henri, knew who it was on the other end of that phone line. Explaining to him only that Remy was injured badly and needed him, I made sure he understood to be careful coming after him, being that the Assassins would be watching. After I hung up, I went back to getting myself ready for the ball; I was late enough as it was, what with all that happened today. Couldn't help but think of Remy out there waiting for help, but I just couldn't do anything more for him. When Andre'-Michel come to get me later, I took a good look out by the tree to make sure that I didn't see Remy out there, but he was gone by that time. I had just hoped that Henri had gotten to him before anyone else came up on him. That's all he would have needed---more trouble when he was in no shape to protect himself- --the poor thing.
I'm too tired now to write down all that happened at the Cotillion; didn't think writing all of this would take so long. Got to get me some sleep, so I'll write about that tomorrow. All I can say now is that even though I had lots of the boys fussing all over me and made the other girls pretty darn jealous, in the back of my mind I could only see Remy. He was as real as day in my mind's eye, just as if he was standing out in the cold, nose pressed up to the frosted windows, wishing with all of his heart that he could be part of the grandeur of it all...wishing it was he who was dancing with me. How I wish it had been Remy, even for just one dance. But it can't ever be; he's always going to be on the outside looking in, no matter where he goes in the world.
'Night for now, Diary. I'll tell you about the ball tomorrow! Meanwhile, here's my tussy mussy flower arrangement I wore tonight for safekeeping...