Well, folks, this is the second to last chapter in this story, but don't worry. I have one final story in this series and then that's it, it's done completely. So, hopefully you'll come back for the third, if not, I hope you live well and...well you know.
Chapter Fifty-Two: Gran Boa
**Daryl**
Sensing a presence, Daryl tensed before completely waking, his eyes remained closed, his hand feeling for Salt at his side.
Opening them finally, he found the Lieutenant standing at the foot of Carol's bed quietly, watching her rest.
From the gear on his back and the helmet on his head, Daryl knew something was up and sat up fully in his seat.
The Lieutenant shifted on his feet.
"She okay, then?" He asked quietly so as not to wake anyone else in the infirmary.
Daryl nodded. "She'll be fine." He eyed the man with suspicious eyes. "Where're you off to?"
"Hunting," the Lieutenant replied swiftly, laying a hand on Carol's covered foot and squeezing gently mindful not to wake her. "You take care of yourself, cabri."
Realizing nothing would talk the Cajun out of what he was planning, but knowing exactly what was on his mind, Daryl grimaced, but nodded. "You too, man." He glanced at Carol and inhaled. "Wait," he said. Pushing to his feet, Daryl approached him, he knew Fay needed to hunt down his old man, but he didn't like the idea of him going out alone. "You need help out there?" He asked.
"No. I'll be fine. You stay with your girl, she needs you."
"So does yours, man," Daryl argued.
With sad eyes, the Marine nodded. "I know. I know she does, and believe me, cabri, if I didn't have to do this, I'd curl up in her arms and sleep the rest of my life away. But…one more thing," he scoffed at himself. "Always one more thing, seems like. They used to tell us in the corps, you'll sleep when you're dead." The Lieutenant shrugged. "Don't know about that anymore."
"You ever coming back?" Daryl asked.
"Sure," Fay stated firmly. "When I get this bastard in the grave, I'll be back. I'm getting married, got a little girl. That's a lot to come home to." He beamed broadly like old times and looked like he was about to leave, when he stopped, scratching his chin. "Did I ever tell you the story about Thom Chatelaine and his lost father?"
Daryl shook his head.
Quietly removing his pack and helmet, Fay pulled a chair in close to Daryl's and they both sat down.
"It was one of the nicest summers I can recall," Fay began. "I turned…sixteen that year. Now, I was loitering in the park in Basile, it's a pretty, but small park, one of those small town parks with just some shrubs and trees and a bench or two. We had sort of gone to ogle ladies, pretty girls who were just getting off work around town.
See, summer down in Louisiana invites girls to stroll around in as little as possible, so Lucky Bryant and I…he was a Texian boy who moved to Basile just the year before. Nice kid, but one of the most unlucky bastards I have ever met. So the name Lucky, I guess, was kind of ironic. Anyways, Lucky and I were enjoying the moving scenery, when I spied Thom Chatelaine walking by with his daddy, I mean Thom was old, old, so his daddy had to be at least a hundred. Toothless and maybe not all there, but a nice old man either way. Old Thom was a woodworker and woodcarver, he made beautiful furniture with unique etchings and scenes playing out on them and he was nice enough man, but possibly just as forgetful as his daddy. Anyways, Lucky and I watched as Thom popped into the bank, leaving his daddy outside, but we got distracted by this pretty girl in short, shorts wandering by. I mean, dark hair and eyes, real Spanish beauty. Hell, I can still remember the birth mark she had on her inner thigh, it was kind of shaped like Australia. I mean, they were short, shorts, cabri. But, getting back on track, when we looked back at the bank old Thom's daddy was gone and we didn't think anything of it, old Thom probably came out while we were distracted, so we went on enjoying the birds in the park, so to speak. And about ten minutes later Thom came out of the bank and looked around, apparently his daddy had gone and wandered off. He walked up and down that street, backwards and forwards, before heading inside the bank again. Lucky and I, didn't do anything yet, we weren't too worried, so we got up and headed over to the diner to get something cold to drink and sat inside enjoying the pretty waitress who was serving us. She was a beautiful girl with skin the colour of café au lait, big brown eyes and the brightest, most sweet grin I have yet to see on a woman and she sensed we were up to nefarious things, gave us a bit of a hard time about it, but I kind of liked her giving me a hard time. Guess I have a type. When we left the diner, after I managed to finagle myself a date, it was pretty much near sunset and there was a buzzing all around town. The local law was driving about with their bright spotlights, searching the back alleys and in the yards of homes. And Lucky and I flagged one down to see what was up. See, the summer before a little girl went missing and she was found running away from home on a dirt road just outside the town, so we thought we could maybe help. The officer said old Thom had lost his daddy. After Lucky and I politely covered our laughter, we decided to join in the search. We both lived outside of the town, so we had to beat cheeks home before night or we'd be walking country roads in the dark and liable to get smacked by a nightblind driver. But we decided to help anyways, so we," Fay trailed off, noticing the sky outside the window of the infirmary. He grew quiet and still, watching the world beyond the window.
Daryl put his features into memory. He didn't think Fay was green enough to meet with any danger on his own, but he didn't honestly know if the man would ever come back. He wanted to remember him, to keep a small part of the Cajun alive, just as he had done with the others.
But it felt different somehow with the Cajun. It almost ached more in his gut, settled heavy like he'd swallowed rocks.
"I should tell you the rest of the story when I get back," the Lieutenant affirmed, getting to his feet and gathering up his gear, replacing his helmet. Holding out his hand, Fay offered Daryl a quick grin. "I'll see you later, brother."
Daryl took his hand and gripped it tight, finding the Lieutenant was slipping something into his palm smoothly.
Watching the man walk out the door, Daryl squeezed the soft fabric of whatever Fay had given him tight, before opening his fist to find the Marine's name patch lying there. Swallowing thickly, Daryl ground his teeth again and stood quietly for the longest time in the middle of the infirmary in complete indecision. He felt like his liver had been torn out, like there was a gaping hole in him.
Running his thumb over the letters, feeling the bumps of each one, Daryl sighed and finally returned to settle at Carol's side.
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**Old Missy**
The cold bed had awoken her.
It was odd how a lifetime of sleeping alone, and two months of sleeping with a form at her side and she was attuned to the change when that form was gone.
She blushed when she recalled what they did that night in the very bed she was now lying in. She hadn't meant to allow it to happen, but she had lately begun to realize she was very willing to do anything to get that damned man to just rest.
Wrapping a thick sweater around her shoulders, she moved out of her room and into the cold darkness before dawn, searching, hoping he was still around. Moving across the lawns, the bottom of her long cotton nightgown grew damp to soaking from the dew, her bare feet freezing in the cold grass. Her body aching in all her most delicate places, and for a moment she was warmed by the shame of what she had done.
She didn't mind the cold while being warmed by shame.
Reaching the front gate, the only gate she supposed, she found no trace of the Lieutenant. Karen, who was minding it said he hadn't passed through yet, and gave her hope.
She turned to figure out where to look next, heading towards the church, when the whistle of a mockingbird caught her ear and she turned to find the towering Marine moving up beside her.
Grace stopped and primly stood before him, finding it hard to meet his eyes, but valiantly marching on, boldly meeting his steely gaze. "Were you trying to sneak out without saying goodbye?" She demanded.
He flashed a broad grin, but she could see right through it. "It wouldn't be goodbye, magpie," he said, brow darkening as he caught sight of her bare feet. "You shouldn't be out without shoes this morning, cher. You'll get deathly ill."
"Oh, kettle," she cooed with a small, sad grin, reaching up and touching a hand to his cheek. Glancing in the direction of the infirmary, the direction he must have come from, she asked, "how's Carol?"
"She'll be fine. Strong woman like that'll kick anything in the ass."
"I'm glad, I prayed hard for her," Grace said.
"Well, that pull you have with God must be pretty damned strong," he teased. "Come here, don't stand in the wet grass like that," he whispered, pulling her gently towards the stoop of the dorms, making sure she was standing on the mat there. "You go crawl back into bed when I go, yeah? Get warm."
"Good heavens you're bossy," she replied.
Taking her hands, Lafayette kissed her fingertips again and held them close to his chest in between both of his large, rough palms. "When I get back," he said, "everything I do will be for you and Annie. No more being selfish."
"You're not selfish, honey," she cooed. "At first I thought you were being thoughtless and that you didn't care, but…you care too much. And it's going to get you killed one of these days. I'm so scared that it'll kill you."
"Oh, girl," he breathed. "Marry me when I get back and I'll become a domesticated kittycat for you. A model family man."
"If you come back," she corrected.
"I'm coming back," he insisted. "God willing I will come back."
"I'll pray for you, day and night, until you come home."
He beamed at her. "Mais, knowing the kind of pull you have with God it makes me feel like I could walk on water."
Fumbling with shaking hands for the rosary in her pocket, Grace pulled it out and pressed it into his hand. "I know you're not religious," she urged, "in fact I have a sneaking suspicion you're some Godless heathen, but I've carried this rosary with me since I was sixteen and," she broke off, feeling her stomach churn at the thought of him stumbling about with it in his pocket like one of the abominations at the gate. Covering her mouth, she forced herself to calm before attempting to speak again.
"You know," he whispered, pulling her in close to him to ward off the morning chill, "you're right. I was never very religious, but lately I've been thinking," he tilted her chin up gently with a finger and grinned down at her. "I've been thinking that something brought me here, that we've been awfully blessed on this land, within these walls. All the good luck we've had, maybe it wasn't luck so much as divine intervention. Maybe God likes us. I mean, I was on a road to nowhere when I found that well hidden path up to these gates and now I have a purpose. A place where I feel normal." He laughed, pulling away from her to sit on the stoop. "Whatever that mythical state of being may be."
She moved to take a seat beside him, but he pulled her into his lap, making damned sure her feet were off the cold ground and being warmed by one of his large hands.
"Not to say I was ever an outcast, I think those Dixon boys have me beat there, but I never felt like I clicked into place. Suburbia was too perfect, the country life was too slow, New Orleans and Shreveport were too busy and too crowded, overseas, the Middle East, too many rules and regulations, but here, this time, this place, I feel right." He looked at her rosary in his free hand. "Maybe I'm here, in this place with you, for a reason. Or maybe it's just random chance," his eyebrows rose, "that's almost terrifying to think of. So, I'm going with purpose and reason here. Divine protection and a little grace from heaven."
He stood up with her in his arms, she didn't miss the wince he gave or the way he tucked in on himself on his right side a little. Setting her down on the little mat again, he removed his helmet, tucked it under his arm and draped the rosary over his head and around his neck before replacing his helmet.
"I'll come back to you, magpie," he assured her. "There's no way I can die now. Not with so much to come home to."
Grace eyed him, feeling that unnerving urge to weep rising up in her breast again.
"Hey, girl," he pulled back from her, stepping off the stoop, "Manfred Mann."
"What?"
"There she was, just a walkin' down the street, singing do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do," he began. "Snapping her fingers and shuffling her feet, singing do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do."
"What?" She demanded.
He backed up a little. "She looked good, she looked fine, she looked good, she looked fine and I nearly lost my mind."
Grace grimaced. "People are really going to think you've lost it. Stop that."
"Before I know it, she was walking next to me singing do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do. Holding my hand just as natural as can be singing do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do," he took to one knee in the dewy grass still singing to her.
"I mean it, stop." She urged, glancing around, noticing Karen at the gate was standing up and watching curiously. Covering her face in embarrassment, she contemplated leaving him and just going back to bed. "Please stop?"
"We walked on, to my door, we walked on to my door, then we kissed a little more. Whoa-ooh, I knew we was falling in love," he continued, shuffling a little dance in front of her, grinning widely.
Grace peered out between her fingers at him as he backed up a little more.
"Yes, I did and so I told her all the things I'd been dreaming of. Now we're together nearly every single day, singing do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do."
Finding Father O'Rourke on the wall nearby had paused and was watching as well in the growing daylight, Grace flushed brightly and pleaded. "Please stop?"
"We're so happy, and that's how we're gonna stay, singing do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do. Well I'm her's and she's mine, I'm her's, she's mine, wedding bells are gonna chime. Whoa-ooh, I knew we was falling in love," he went on louder.
Grace followed him as he backed up towards the gate across the lawns, still bellowing. "I mean it, you're embarrassing me. Stop it." She pleaded, fighting the smile that was blooming.
"Yes, I did and I told her all the things I'd been dreaming of. Now we're together nearly every single day, singing do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do," he went on with a grin, reaching Karen at the gate. "We're so happy and that's how we're gonna stay, singing," he pointed to Karen who frowned in confusion.
"Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do," Father O'Rourke helped from the wall.
Beaming widely, Fay went on with a grateful point to the priest as Grace wished the earth would swallow her up.
"Well, I'm her's, she's mine, I'm her's, she's mine, wedding bells are gonna chime. Whoa-ooh oh yeah, do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do," he went on as Karen got the gate for him.
As the gate closed between them, Fay turned and kept singing as he walked off down the cattle trail.
Grace, with her hands folded before her, stood at the gate and watched him until he was a speck in the distance, then watched for a few hours more the direction he had gone. She knew his diversionary tactics, singing to throw her off from what would be a very hard parting and while she hated that he was gone, she appreciated him trying to cheer her up about it. But it didn't settle that feeling inside her that something was off about him. It terrified her to the point of paralysis. Her limbs wouldn't move, they couldn't. Suddenly she understood where the saying 'he was scared stiff' came from. Because that was how she felt. She was scared stiff.
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**Carol**
Her throat was dry.
It was the very first thing she realized when she woke, her eyes still blurry and trying hard to focus on the ceiling overhead didn't miss the face that peered down at her.
Anyone else would see indifference or almost annoyance in Daryl's features, but she knew him better. What seemed like an annoyed grimace was concern and she smiled at it.
"Water?" She croaked.
He moved away and returned with a Styrofoam cup of water.
Carol downed it as Mrs. Douglas looked her over quickly.
"Seems I put in with the right group," Mrs. Douglas said casually. "You people have more damned luck than anyone I've ever met."
"What's the damage?" Carol asked the woman.
"Nothing a lifting some weights and squeezing some rubber balls can't help," she returned. "Like I said, lucky."
The woman walked off and as Carol struggled to sit up, aided by Daryl, she noticed Mrs. Douglas head into the curtained off area beside her bed.
"Who…?"
"Adele, that Deveau's girl," Daryl said.
"Is she…?"
"Had a baby."
"Oh…no it's too soon."
"Baby and mama are fine," he rasped. "How are you?"
"Good," she paused, still jumbled from her incident. "I feel like I've been asleep for days."
"Naw, only last night and half of today," Daryl assured her.
"My head hurts," she admitted.
"Concussion," he offered.
"That explains why I feel dizzy." She closed her eyes and willed the room to stop spinning. "Does the Lieutenant know?" She asked. "About Adele and Martin?"
"I think he figured it out, yeah," Daryl returned.
She barely heard him, slipping back into a deep sleep.
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The Voodoo Dialect
Gran Boa - Lives in the deep forest where the vegetation is wild. He is the protector of wildlife, and doesn't like to be seen. He eats fruits and vegetables all day in the woods and when called in a ceremony, he is usually not hungry but the people always have food for him anyway. He is the loa that must be called upon before one is ordained into voodoo priesthood.
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DarylDixon'sLover - Oh, things are going to get worse for Daryl...sorry. (Haha, am I kidding? You may have to stick around for the third story to find out!)
Brazen Hussy - Thank you! I have some big plans for Kowalski in the third story to this series...
itsi3 - Carol should be more than okay, she's a fighter that one.
Yazzy x - If you don't feel like hugging characters in this story, then I'm failing at my job. ^_^
Claire Randall Fraser - Haha! Don't feel bad about being uncouth, I'm the type of person who enjoys a good raunchy outburst! Thanks for it!
Surplus Imagination - I'm glad you asked about the Kowalski plotline. It does seem weird and unnecessary to you now, I'm sure, but because you asked, I will mention that I chose his POV for two important reasons, I wanted a fresh perspective on things that were happening from an outside POV. Someone who can just step back and see, rather than feel about things. And also, most importantly, that it's foreshadowing something that will actually happen in the next story in this series (one last one then I'm done, I swear). So, just have some faith in me that it's heading somewhere. I understand the question completely, though, it is hard to see the bigger picture when you're not crawling inside my brain knowing what I have planned, so don't feel bad when you have to ask about things like that. ^_^