Ch 3 – More Than A Supreme

Fiona jumped back gasping for breath, her heart pounding like the rush of a thousand horses. The once fading supreme clung to the bathroom wall, tears pouring down her cheeks as she watched the pregnancy test slide into the sink, the fire spreading, rushing up around the edges and high into the air as if it were bursting forth from the depths of hell itself.

"No, no, no, no…" She cried, shaking her head.

The supreme had never been more afraid, for in an instant, she knew what this met: it was the unfolding of her true destiny. She started to sob, hyperventilating as smoke filled the room. The fire alarm went off as Fiona sunk to the floor in defeat. After a few moments, Delia burst in the door, Marie at her heals.

"Shit, Fiona! What are you trying to do, kill yourself faster?" Delia spat, coughing as she turned on the faucet, quieting the flames and smoke.

It was Marie who first saw the burnt, plastic object. The voodoo woman did a double take. Her spine stiffened and her soul quieted in fear once the realization settled in. Delia froze once the flames rested, and she was met with the reality of what lay in the sink: a burnt, hallowed out test, the positive sign still glowing a bright, orange red, the heart of flame still seeming to churn inside the confines of the 'plus.' Delia gulped.

"Mom?" She asked.

….

Delia shook, the pain in her heart making her want to rush out of the room, but the shock forced her to stay, planting her feet in the ground. Fiona continued to sob so hard that she started to gag. She got up, violently pushing her daughter out of the way as she started to wretch into the now badly burnt sink.

"What in the hell is going on?" Delia asked, her eyes widening. She too knew the legend, but it hadn't hit her yet.

Marie gulped, pointing to Fiona's middle. "She will be born of a supreme, and a father from the spirit world."

"Don't… don't say it." Fiona shook her head, closing her eyes, needing to be sick again.

"Good God…" Delia whispered, now realizing what her mother carried. The already pale woman turned white as a sheet.

"Don't say it, don't give it power!" Fiona spat.

"You know it already has more power it its yolk sac than you've ever had." Marie sneered, telling the supreme everything she already knew.

"We've got to get rid of it." Delia's mind rushed.

"Yes… yes, lets get rid of it." As Fiona's heart raced, she realized she wasn't thinking right.

"We can't get rid of it!" Marie cakled. "Or it'll surely get rid of you."

For the first time ever, mother and daughter locked eyes: sharing the same fear, but a very different sense of pain.

Angry, Delia turned off the water and grabbed a towel, cleaning off her mother's face. Fiona pushed her away again, turning back to the sink to be sick.

"I'll make you something for the sickness, a special potion." Marie comforted, patting her new friend on the back as she left the room. "We'll raise this girl together, we'll… make it work."

"Mom, don't listen to her we have to get rid of it!" Delia cried.

Fiona stood, hunched over, in pain from having been so violently sick. Calmer now, she waived her hand dismissvely at her oldest, placing it on her middle as she gulped, discovering that in addition to new fears, she had new loyalties.

"No." She resolved. "It's my baby. And no matter who she is, we're not getting rid of it."

Delia's heart broke a little bit, following her mother out into the hall; sure she'd never felt that way about her.

"Should I get you something, its making you so sick…"

Fiona grabbed her coat and slipped on her shoes, rushing out the door without a word to her daughter.

…

Axey smiled, putting on an old jazz record as he poured a glass of brandy. He sighed, as he sat back, lighting a cigar. After years of bondage, the jazzman thought this was the life, simple though it was, and that only one thing on earth could make his evening better. He jumped up, straightening his shirt when he heard the door open.

"Babydoll." He purred.

Fiona giggled, the bile rising in her throat as she made her way over to her lover without a word, kissing him deeply.

"Hmmm." He smiled. "Can I pour you a drink my babydoll?"

"Just a drop." She smiled, flirtatiously.

Fiona wasn't quite sure why she'd run here. It was instinctual, as if she'd been drawn to him upon hearing the news, as if she had to be by his side. Fiona had never had anything like that with a man before, and it scared her. He offered her a drop of brandy and filled his own glass a second time, reaching out to toast her.

"To new beginnings." He said, not knowing the half of it.

"To new beignnings." She paused, almost timidly, toasting him.

He sat back in his chair, grabing her around the waist and she rested in his lap, wrapping her arm around his neck and kissing his nose.

"I'm glad you came back, babydoll. We've got lots to talk about."

He hadn't wanted her to leave earlier, but she'd made an excuse to get away; having not felt well and having been disgusted by his continual suggestion that they live like normal 'folk' as his grandparents had. Nothing could've disgusted her more than a pedestrian life with him, but at the same time, her news made her realize that in some way, she did long for a life that had him in it.

"Joe I have a surprise for you." She said uneasily.

"I'd love to hear what it is." He was elated, thinking she'd agreed to his absurd proposal: of moving in with him.

She said nothing for a moment, smiling, pretending to flirt as she played with the buttons on his shirt. He leaned in, kissing her neck.

"Joe, honey…" She said, pulling away from his embrace.

The action scared him, if she was growing seirous that had to be a bad thing. He stared up at her, pain in his puppy dog eyes. She giggled, shaking her head as she took his face in her hands.

"No need to worry, sweet boy." She assured, kissing his nose, pressing her own against it. "Joe?"

"Hmmm?"

"All those years you loved me, learning my life story? Did ya ever think about bein' a daddy?"

….

30 Years Earlier – The Academy

Fiona sighed, sobbing as she held an empty pink blanket in her arms, cuddling it close, cradling it as if its contents weren't lost forever. Over her shoulder, the Axeman stood, his hands in his pockets, his heart so heavy he was almost in tears. He gulped, brushing his fingers through her hair as she cried. She couldn't feel his presence, but rested her cheek in his hand. He got on his knees, staring straight into her face, longing to see her big brown orbs look back at him, and dried her tears.

"It'll all be okay, somehow babydoll."

Fiona continued to sob, bitterly.

"Mama, mama." A tiny voice cried, her little fists pounding on the door.

Fiona shook, angered by the child's presence.

"You've gotta keep going, for her if nothing else… and for me. Please?" He asked, wishing she could hear him. He couldn't stand to see her this way, and longed, more than anything, to comfort and hold her in his arms.

The ghost jumped back when his love stood, screaming and violently pushing all of her perfume off the vanity. It shattered on the ground, the noise causing the living little child to scream in fear.

…

"A couple of times…. Yes." He bit his lip, knowing the truth: that he already was a father, to someone out there. He'd been waiting for the right time to bring it up, but ti never seemed right.

"Well Joe, I've got a surprise for you." She giggled, tilting her head and kissing his lips. His smile brightened suddenly. He didn't get it; thinking of course that she was going to say she'd found her.

"What is it babydoll?" He asked in anticipation.

"That I'm going to have a baby!"

"A … a what?!"

…

"You're… with child?" He asked, nervously drinking down another glass of brandy.

"We're gonna be a family." She said, placing her hands on either side of his chair and staring down into his face.

He was hurt, to him, they were already a family she just didn't know that. His mind wandered for a moment, contemplating not just the loss of their first child, but of his new and strange news.

"A daddy? A baby?"

"Whoever thought the stork would come calling for the axeman of New Orleans." She teased.

He stared up at her, still in a daze. Smiling, she took his hand and placed it on her middle, pressing her own hand over it. Neither knew it, but each of their hearts skipped a bit at the sensation. For each there was a little bit of heartache and a little bit of healing in the sensation.

'A do over.' She thought.

'I get to be with her, to touch her, to love her this time….' He realized, and in an instant, he went from dazed to in love.

"It's a girl." She whispered, leaning down to kiss him.