Tatjana Soli - The Forgetting Tree

Lucy and Claire broke apart in their embrace. Instinctively Claire stepped in front, partially shielding Lucy from his sight.

The answer out of her mouth sticky, reluctant. “My daughter.”

“What a beauty,” he said.

“This is my cousin,” Minna said.

Lucy blushed and ducked under her mother’s arm, walking over to him. “So nice to meet you. We love Minna.”

“Oh, come closer,” he said, and swallowed her in a big, long-armed embrace that almost took her off her feet. “It’s all family here, love.”

* * *

Despite Claire’s misgivings, the next few days went by in an almost celebratory atmosphere. Now Jean-Alexi abandoned the barn and his cell phone and spent time in the house. They ate meals together, island music playing, and he flirted shamelessly with Lucy. Claire saw another side of him, the raconteur, spinning one charming story of their life in the islands after another. Was it possible that she had overreacted? That the solitude and her sickness and the drugs had deluded her mind? Or was he cunning enough to insure his safety by attaching himself to what she loved most in the world?

* * *

“So were you at Cambridge also?” Lucy asked.

Jean-Alexi closed his eyes to slits, staring into the candlelight, chewing thoughtfully. “No. My part of the family wasn’t the fancy one.”

“What is the name of your village again?” Lucy asked.

“Jérémie,” Jean-Alexi said.

“Isn’t that in Haiti? Not Dominica,” Claire said.

Minna said nothing, simply got up and cleared the table. The reproach clear. What was Claire trying to prove? If she caught him out lying, would she throw Minna into the street? Would she call the police? What, exactly, did Claire want? Did she want to be begged? Did she want to be the all-merciful Claire? Did she want to be the savior, to be responsible for another human being’s fate besides her own? Or was it simply hurt pride that Minna did not believe in her enough to tell her the truth?

“What you got to understand is that we’ve got family scattered all along the islands.”

“Tell me about you two as children,” Lucy demanded.

“All the women were in love with Jean-Alexi,” Minna said. “That time on the beach…?”

Jean-Alexi threw his head back in a howling laugh. “This is a story you must hear. This is my little Maleva.”

As they both took turns telling the story of the coins and the boys and Minna’s death order, they all laughed. Claire watched, mesmerized, as yet another Minna emerged than the ones she thought she knew or had imagined.

“The taffy,” Minna said, chuckling, dabbing tears from laughing so hard. “Remember that dried bit of taffy you gave me? I didn’t realize you had stolen my coins.”

“Those were your dues for protection, little sister.”

Claire was lulled against her doubt of the nature of the relationship between the two. Still, at other moments, she had an urge to pick up the phone and call the police. For what? He was a powder keg that might go off at any minute. She wanted him gone, but she was afraid for Minna’s sake. Now Lucy was involved. How to warn her away without frightening her and stirring Jean-Alexi’s wrath?

* * *

At night, Lucy slept with Claire in her room. They gossiped together like girlfriends, as they had so many years before.

“Why did you come?” Claire asked.

“I wanted to see you. And the gallery closed. Javier and I broke up.”

“It’s good you came home.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on here,” Lucy said.

Claire didn’t answer.

“Kind of a commune feel. That’s cool with me, but you don’t want Gwen to see this.”

“He’ll be leaving soon.”

* * *

During her days there, Lucy’s assuming normalcy affected the others to pretend the same. She plugged in the phones and called Gwen, told her about the charming Jean-Alexi, spent hours with him getting the irrigation lines back in working order. She convinced him to move the remaining furniture back in the house, assuming Claire had sold the rest, and Claire did not contradict her. She screwed in lightbulbs, found a used piano in the want ads to replace the one that was sold, according to Claire because it no longer held a tune.

Forster came over, and although he was unhappy about the state of things, Lucy and Claire’s acceptance made him hold his objections. Privately he told Claire he was starting the search for a foreman. In a few weeks if things didn’t improve, he would have the man replaced.

Once Claire caught Jean-Alexi and Lucy smoking a joint on the porch and giggling, stopping when she approached. Another time, she saw Jean-Alexi cup his hand over Lucy’s elbow as he talked to her. Was this another subtle threat? Seducing the daughter?

Another Jean-Alexi would approach Claire when she was alone. He came into her room, unbidden, late in the mornings and stood over her, businesslike and menacing.

“Time for you to sign, and I get leaving.”

“We don’t seem to be communicating. Ask Forster to give you his ranch.”

His face grew pained and tight. “I got things to do, people to see. Can’t spend much more time here.”

“That’s too bad. I’ll hate to see you go.”

“You have money in your bank account. Jewelry. How about a loan?”

“Can’t.”

He sighed, stretched, swayed his hips. “That’s one juicy daughter you have.”

Claire said nothing.

“Thinks I’m quite the man. I’m this close,” he said, pinching his thumb and index finger closed. “Told her I’m goin’ to perform a vodou ceremony. That got her hot and excited.”

* * *

Alone in bed, Claire stroked Lucy’s hair. “I don’t want you spending time alone with Jean-Alexi.”

“Oh, Mom.”

“I’m serious.”

“He’s fascinating.”

“He might be … he is dangerous.” Lucy’s face immediately dropped, and Claire recognized that long-ago look of fear in her eyes. Whatever Claire did, she needed to keep this from her, otherwise her distrust would give them away. “I just mean Minna tells me he’s a real ladies’ man. I don’t want you hurt.”

The furrow between Lucy’s eyes relaxed. She dropped her head back on the pillow. “Oh, Mom, I’m a big girl now.”

* * *

But the isolation of the house was getting to Lucy. “How about we go out for dinner?” she suggested.

“I miss Minna’s cooking,” Jean-Alexi protested.

“I’m sure she would like a break, too.”

“I’m fine,” Minna mumbled.

“You cook,” he said.

“Let’s all just go to a movie or for drinks.”

“You and me go. Minna and Maman want to stay home and take it easy.”

Lucy hesitated. “That would hurt their feelings.”

* * *

The next afternoon, arguing could be heard from in the barn. Minna came in with a swollen eye, holding her stomach.

“What happened?”

She looked around the room, disoriented. “I tripped and hit the corner of a table.”

Neither Claire nor Lucy said a word, but Claire squeezed her daughter’s hand.

“Jean-Alexi has decided it is time for the ceremony.”

“Ceremony?”

Minna handed them a crudely lettered piece of cardboard.

YOUR INVITED TO A HEALING

FOR ERZULIE, SAMEDI, AGATHA,

N BRIGETTE POST YA TIME SOON

“All the spirits need to be thanked.”

“No, I don’t want to do that,” Claire said.

Lucy clapped her hands, relief on her face. “Oh, how fun. Can I help?”

* * *

Surprisingly many mirrors accumulate throughout a house over the years — in bedrooms, closets, and even in dark hallways to give the illusion of openness and size, to give onlookers time to organize the face they show to the world. Minna had returned the collection that had formerly been banished in the barn, and it felt like coming full circle, from being denied to being forcibly shown. The mirrors were spaced out along empty floors, substitutes for bodies of water, which attracted and reflected the spirit world. In addition to that, Minna said they were lucky to have the pool, especially in its new brown-green opacity, which reflected one’s face back as detailed as any mirror.