American Girl (Louisiana)(Lea Sheryn) Louisiana
Clea Morel ran breathlessly along the dock. She spied the Mississippi Queen, plowing steadily along the river toward New Orleans. It felt like an eternity since the last time the mighty steamboat returned to its home port. As the vessel approached, she stood on the dock scanning the faces at the railing. The passengers waved their arms madly at the waiting crowd and cheered. It took Clea a moment to find the object of her search. When she noticed the smiling face, she waved too.
Clea admired her beautiful Maman. Known only as Gigi, her mother worked as an entertainer on the Mississippi Queen. She wore a low-cut flounced red dress and black-and-white striped stockings held up with a lacy garter. Her large, frilled hat framed her face perfectly, accentuating the creamy caramel skin. She could sing and dance the can-can.
The passengers began to disembark. Gigi and the other steamboat employees could only exit once the paying customers had departed. Clea kept her eyes on her mother. Phillipe Ransome joined her and encircled her waist with his arm. Gigi smiled up at him and pecked his cheek affectionately. Clea shrank back.
Phillipe Ransome worked as a poker dealer on the Mississippi Queen. He dressed smartly in a black suit, waistcoat patterned with red roses, and a black string tie. A derby hat sat at a cocky angle atop his slicked-back dark hair. Phillipe stuck to Gigi like glue. No matter where she was, he always appeared at her side.
Clea wished Phillipe would move on to other parts. Although he was born in New Orleans, he had previously worked in San Francisco and in Nevada. She suspected him of card sharking and secretly hoped he would get caught. If he went to jail, he would leave Gigi alone.
Finally, Gigi stood at the top of the gangplank. A slight breeze ruffled the feathers on her hat, and she clung to her carpetbag. Clea raced toward her and flung herself into her Maman's arms. Gigi tightened her embrace with her daughter.
"I've missed you so much," Clea gurgled happily. Her joyous expression faded when Phillipe appeared at her side.
"I've missed you too, honey," Gigi exclaimed, smiling broadly. "Philippe has missed you also."
Philippe bowed at the waist and raised his hat in salute. Taking Clea's hand, he kissed it and stated his delight at seeing her again. Clea felt repelled by his touch.
"Have you behaved for Grand'Mere Kizzy?" Gigi asked.
"Oui, yes, Maman," Clea answered promptly. "And for Auntieie Binta. They take excellent care of me while you are away. You were away a long time. Was there a delay along the river?"
"More of a personal delay, my dearest little one." Gigi removed her long red glove, displaying an engagement and wedding ring set.
The color drained from Clea's face. She stumbled backward beneath Phillipe's leering grin. He tipped his hat to her again and grinned lasciviously.
"I did not realize you were engaged to Philippe, Maman," she whispered, keeping her eyes downcast.
"I did not realize it either, little one," Gigi giggled. "It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. Come along; let's tell Grand'Mere Kizzy the wonderful news."
The trio headed toward the French Quarter. Clea held back, wondering how Grand'Mere Kizzy and Auntie Binta would react to Gigi's sudden news. They felt the same way about Phillipe as Clea did. He was shiftless and unworthy of her mother's attention.
As she expected, Grand'Mere Kizzy immediately showed her annoyance at the announcement. Phillipe remained suave, and Gigi confident despite Kizzy's disgruntled attitude. Binta shared her younger sister's manner.
"Since we are still on our honeymoon, Maman, will you keep Clea?" Gigi asked, ignoring her mother's doubtful expression. "We'd appreciate it if you will."
"I fail to see how things would continue otherwise," Kizzy remarked curtly. "Clea is with us more than with you. She shall certainly remain here."
"Thank you, Maman." Ignoring her mother's snide statement, she kissed the old woman's cheek. "We'll stop by and take Clea out with us occasionally." Taking Philippe's arm, she sashayed toward the door.
"Just a moment, Virginie," Kizzy summoned, using Gigi's given name. "Binta and I would like to speak to you privately."
"Can't it wait, Maman?" Gigi's spine straightened, but she turned to face her mother nonetheless.
"Certainly not," Kizzy shot back. "Ask your young man to wait outside."
Reluctantly, Philippe stepped outside and stood beneath the wrought-iron veranda. Then, Kizzy motioned for Clea to wait in the kitchen. The girl scurried away but stood at the kitchen entrance. She eavesdropped behind the swinging door.
"Have you told him?" Kizzy demanded hotly.
"Told him what?" Gigi shot back. Red splotches tinted her caramel cheeks.
"The truth, Virginie," the old woman hissed.
"Of course not! He wouldn't have married me if he'd known. Philippe is from a rich Creole family. They simply wouldn't understand. Please, Maman, let's keep it our little secret." Gigi paced the room, wringing her hands.
"If you have a child, and if that child's colored, what then?" Kizzy asked sharply.
"Clea's passing," Gigi snapped anxiously. "She's white as snow. Isn't that proof any other child I might have will pass too?"
"It isn't proof," Binta inserted, taking her sister's side. "You gambled with Clea and had a white child. The next one might have dark skin. You'll never know what you will get until the babe arrives."
Behind the kitchen door, Clea sucked in her breath. Grand'Mere Kizzy and Auntie Binta's words struck her harshly. She never realized any of them had Negro blood in their veins. Her grandmother and great-aunt had skin that was the color of coffee with too much cream. Gigi's skin tone was lighter, and Clea had a pale face.
Gigi began to protest again, but Binta cut her off quickly.
"As you well know, my sister and I were born into slavery. It was revealed that our Master fathered both of us. When he impregnated our older sister Missy, and she raised a fuss, he sold our family," Binta explained. "He brought us into his North Carolina plantation and treated us like daughters of the house. Later, we both married well with our father's blessing. Kizzy came to New Orleans with her husband, and you were born here."
"New Orleans has treated us well, Virginie," Kizzy took up her sister's narrative. "Our backgrounds aren't probed into, and we live here comfortably. As you know, the rich Creoles aren't as accepting. They want to keep their French blood pure. Imagine the uproar if they discover you have even one-quarter Negro blood? You best think it over before your Philippe realizes the truth in the form of a dark child."
"Phillipe won't mind," Gigi declared stubbornly. "He, well, you know Philippe. He's different from his Creole family. He travels and makes his living dealing cards. He's also a third son and won't realize the inheritance his older siblings will share. Besides, he rarely sees them."
"He is exactly the type who will care, Virginie," Binta cut in. "He's not only arrogant, but he's slick. We all know he's card-sharking. That's cheating, no matter what way you cut it. Imagine his wounded pride if you deliver him a dark-skinned son."
Gigi's face paled. She gnawed on her lower lip and glanced toward the man waiting beneath the veranda. Then, holding her head high, she marched through the door. Clasping Philippe's arm, the couple strolled along the darkening street.
"Is it true, Grand'Mere?" Clea asked, bursting into the parlor. "Are you and Auntie Binta really…?"
"Mulattos? Yes, my dearest, we were born into slavery," Kizzy answered, taking her granddaughter's hand. She motioned for the girl to sit on a stool at her feet. "We have passed our bloodline to our offspring."
"What of Louis-Etienne?" Clea wondered out loud. She leaned her head against her Grandmother's knee, tears clinging in her lashes. "What will he think?"
"Don't concern yourself with Louis-Etienne." Grand'Mere Kizzy smiled, combing her fingers through Clea's hair. "We are not the only family with secrets. The Paxton's have their own skeletons in their own closet."
"You mean…?" Clea looked up, suddenly alert. She shared an understanding with Louis-Etienne Paxton. Sometime soon, she expected a proposal from him.
"There are many secrets within the French Quarter, my little love," Kizzy explained assuredly. "We are a blend of many cultures and nationalities. The rich Creoles want to keep their blood pure. Virginie has a lot to worry about with Philippe. You, on the other hand, are safe with Louis-Etienne. His great-grandfather was a slave brought over from Africa."
"I never knew, Grand'Mere," Clea whispered. She sat up and dried her tears. "I never knew where we came from either. I thought…"
"There was no reason for you to know yet," Kizzy stated, nodding toward Binta. "We would have told you before you married, but we expected you to marry Louis-Etienne Paxton. We were not worried."
Clea rose and kissed her Grandmother's cheek. Turning toward Auntie Binta, she embraced and kissed her also. She enjoyed the comfort of the elderly ladies' home. Gigi's job on the steamboat kept her away from home. Other than short visits, Clea rarely saw her mother. Still, she felt concerned about her attachment to the shiftless Philippe Ransome. How would he react if he knew his new wife's background?
"Life is like a game of roulette, my child," Auntie Binta stated. "When you turn the wheel, you never know where the little ball will land. Gigi has spun the wheel and will have to deal with the consequences regardless of where it lands.
"Kizzy spun the wheel once and had Virginie," the older woman continued. "I spun twice. My daughter, Esme, has the same appearance as Gigi. On the other hand, there is no doubt my son, Benoit, has African blood. He lives in Chicago and is a very successful man. We accept what comes to us, my dear."
"And, good or bad, Gigi will accept what comes her way," Kizzy sighed, "just as you will. My daughter has always lived close to the edge. And she will land on her feet. She always does."
"I want to live a safe life, Grand'Mere," Clea sighed. "I won't take chances with my or my children's lives. I feel safe with Louis-Etienne."
Clea studied her Grand'Mere and her Auntie. She saw two strong and dedicated ladies. Born slaves, they stood their ground and lived well in New Orleans. The girl's heart pounded beneath her bodice as she thought of their lives, struggles, and the loss of their family. She tried to imagine living an existence knowing you were bought and sold to serve a cruel master.
Neither black nor white, Kizzy and Binta came beneath the scrutiny of both races and survived. Clea hugged them both, her pride swelling. She hoped she could emanate them in her own future life. As for Gigi, she loved her mother and wished her the best, but she suspected a tempestuous road ahead for her Maman. In the meantime, she embraced her heritage and learned from her Grand'Mere and Auntie's wisdom.

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