Page 36 of A Boy Called Lovesong

As I followed Maybelle out ofEarl’s Auto, my suitcase in hand and Chet at my heels, the thunder peeled away to torment some other far-off place.

CHAPTER 9

The old plantation house—orMaybelle’s Manoras it was called—was a cross between an historical relic and a building so derelict it should have been condemned decades ago. The façade itself was a warning that whoever dared enter, did so at their own risk. Ivy spidered its way up the cracked walls and two-story-tall porch columns, and Spanish moss flowed from the eaves and draped itself like curtains around the window shutters.

Suitcase in one hand, I picked up Chet in the other and followed Maybelle through the enormous oak doors leading into the vestibule of the plantation mansion. “Welcome to Maybelle’s Manor,” she said, pointing her walking stick to the dilapidated grand staircase, the peeling wallpaper, the grill-door elevator and the old chandelier with cobwebs binding one string of crystals to the next. “Beautiful, ain’t she?”

I put down my suitcase but continued clinging to Chet. “It’s… nice. A real fixer-upper.”

Maybelle laughed. “Oh, this place is as fixed up as it’s ever gonna get. This is the way it should be. You see, it once belonged to the Landry family. They still own this land. Once upon a time they owned my ancestors too. But after the incident at thecrossing with their son Lamar all those lifetimes ago, the Landry mansion fell into disrepair… as did the family itself. There was madness, there was death, and eventually, there was a need to abandon this house forever. These days, the Landry family lives in Savannah, Atlanta, Palm Beach. They’ve got much bigger plantations than this all over the state. They use big machines to harvest the crop. They lost the gentle art of picking the cotton by hand, all for the sake of big business. They don’t care. We’re the smallest plantation they own now, and we like it that way. We farm the cotton for them, we deliver it to them, and they stay away from our town.”

“Why would they not want to invest more resources in one of their properties?”

“Because after what happened to Clara at the crossroads, they know better than to come back. They know to leave the past in the past and not to interfere. Now we live unhindered and untethered in the town they left behind. Which means the mansion in which my ancestors cooked and cleaned is now mine, so’s I can keep the people of Clara’s Crossing safe from harm.”

“You mean, this is some sort of hotel?” I asked, looking up at the drip coming from the ceiling high above and the bowing floorboards that were a lawsuit waiting to happen.

Maybelle laughed once more. “No, my dear boy. This isn’t a hotel. It’s a home. When you have this many rooms in a mansion, you need to fill them with people you love. Half the town lives here. Mind you, half of Clara’s Crossing ain’t exactly a lot, but it’s enough to fill the manor.” She suddenly thought to ask, “You don’t mind sharing a room, do you?”

“Sharing a room? Oh… I don’t share. Not with strangers.”

“People are only strangers when they meet. Once you get to know Lovesong, you’ll feel like he’s been in your life forever. He’s that kinda person. He sees things exactly how they are.”

“Wait, did you say Lovesong?”

“That’s his name. Lovesong Valentin. He’s the son of the reverend and his wife, although he moved outta their home and into here a few years ago. Course, his folks weren’t exactly supportive of the idea. But Lovesong needed his independence. I dare say that’s as far as his parents will let the chain out though. They’re what you call overly protective.”

I hadn’t listened to half of what Maybelle had said. All I could think was, “Sorry, I can’t share a room with him.”

“Why not? You ain’t even met him yet.”

“I just… can’t. What if he doesn’t like dogs? What if he doesn’t like Chet?”

Maybelle’s shoulders jiggled with a chuckle. “Lovesong likes everyone. And everyone likes him. That ain’t to say he don’t have a hurt in him that goes all the way to hell. But Lovesong Valentin is a good man. You need to trust me on this.”

“I’m not sure I do. No offence. But is there anywhere else I can stay?”

“Well, you can bunk in with Li’l Leroy if you like, but I warn you, that boy’s flatulence is capable of performing exorcisms. Other than that, you can sleep in the church or make a bed out of today’s cotton harvest that the pickers will stack out back in Cybil’s shed ready for tomorrow’s delivery, but I dare say it’ll be wet through. If I were you, I’d be taking the bed in Lovesong’s room. Follow me. You mind if we take the elevator? It’s been twelve years since I’ve been able to take the stairs. I hope you don’t have cleithrophobia.”

“I don’t even know what that is.”

She stepped into the elevator and warily I stepped into the tight space beside her. She slammed the grill doors shut and answered, “It’s the fear of being trapped. This ain’t the fastest elevator in the world.”

I gulped silently.

I noticed there were no buttons to press, but rather a lever that Maybelle pulled, the only indicators on it being the words “Up” and “Down.”

With a bouncy jolt, the elevator began to slowly ascend. There was grinding sound and an occasional shudder, and while I didn’t suffer from cleithrophobia that I knew of, I found myself clamoring for conversation just to keep myself distracted. “So, what happened at the crossroads? You said there was an incident at the crossroads, lifetimes ago. Do you mind me asking?”

“Whathasn’thappened at them crossroads is more the question. Why do you wanna know?”

“We met a boy there today. He’s probably drenched now. I hope he found his way home.”

Maybelle turned to me and stared, and ever so slowly a knowing smile curled its way up the corners of her lips. “You met Iggy? You met little Iggy Spoons?”

“He was playing the spoons, so… I guess I did.”

“Well I’ll be. You must be here for somethin’ special.”

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