Page 45 of The House on Prytania
“Isn’t that a bit blasphemous?” Jolene asked, her eyes round with worry.
“Not intentionally. Besides, you’re not Catholic—remember? I’m sure that means you get a special dispensation or something.”
“Good point,” she said, smiling again. “I’ll hurry.”
As she walked over to Saint Jude’s shrine, I left Melanie and Sarahnear the door where we’d entered and I began walking around the perimeter of the building, admiring the architecture and the obvious care the church received.
I wasn’t sure when I became aware of humming, the song “Dancing Queen” painfully familiar. I followed the sound to Melanie to ask her if she was ready to leave, and I saw that she was looking at Sarah. My sister stood in the alcove with Saint Expedite, facing the side wall full of flickering candles in glass jars in a kaleidoscope of colors. Her lips were moving so that the casual observer would assume she was praying. As I approached, she turned to me, a curious expression on her face.
“Who is Adele?”
I sucked in my breath, not sure if I’d heard her correctly. “Who?”
“Adele. Like the singer. Except she’s not.” She tilted her head, listening to someone I couldn’t see. “She says you know who she is.”
“Beau’s mother,” I said.
Sarah nodded, then tilted her head again, her forehead creased. After a moment, she said, “She’s hard to understand. It’s like...” She stopped, shook her head as if unable to come up with the correct word.
“Like she’s underwater?” I asked.
Her face brightened. “That’s exactly it!” Sarah’s smile faded and she closed her eyes. “She says...” She frowned, shook her head. “I can’t...” She stopped. “I think she just said something about Louis.”
“Louis? Like the cathedral? Or the king?”
She shook her head, allowing her chin to sink near her chest. “No. It’s—” Her head jerked up, her eyes wide, and she stared directly at me. “It’s like a small city, with little white buildings. And crosses. Lots of crosses.”
Melanie joined us, her expression one of concern. “Let’s go outside, Sarah. You’re looking a bit green.”
Sarah shook her head. “No. I’m fine. She’s gone now.” She bit her lip, her blue eyes brighter than usual. “I don’t think she was supposedto be here. I think she followed us because she knew she could talk to Mom or me, and that took up a lot of her energy.”
“Did she frighten you?” Melanie asked, putting her arm around Sarah.
“No. She was just... a mom, you know? Except her skin was really white, and her lips blue. That’s how I knew she wasn’t alive anymore. She looked so sad, and I really want to help her. We need to find out what this Louis is.”
“I think I know,” said Jolene as she approached. “Did she give you a number?”
Sarah thought for a moment. “I don’t think so. She kept holding up her index finger, but she went away before I could ask if that meant anything.”
“No need. I think she means St. Louis Cemetery Number One. Maybe that’s where the Ryan family crypt is and she wants to show us where she would like to be buried? Assuming her body is ever found,” Jolene said, her voice hopeful.
I was already texting Beau. For once his response came right away. “He says their crypt is in Metairie Cemetery.”
“Maybe she was just suggesting it as an interesting place to see on your visit.”
We all looked at Jolene with blank expressions.
“Or not,” Jolene said. “Although it is a good suggestion.” She pointed down Rampart Street. “It’s about two blocks that way, on Basin Street. We’ve got a couple of hours before we have to meet the guys, so we’ve got time. We could leave the car here and walk it.”
We all looked at Melanie’s heels. Even Jolene was wearing sensible, yet fashionable, flats.
“I’ll be fine,” Melanie insisted. “The weather is beautiful, and these sidewalks aren’t as bad as others I’ve seen.” She adjusted her silk scarf into the collar of her chic navy knit jacket, and I thought about mentioning that she looked like her mother, but I wasn’t sure if she’d take it as the compliment it was intended to be.
“Maybe you and Sarah would want to wait outside the gates?” I asked.
Melanie pulled out an earbuds case. “I’ve got every song ABBA ever recorded, so I can listen and sing along if I get bothered. Although I have discovered that cemeteries aren’t as haunted as people might like to think. Most of the time spirits prefer to hang out in familiar places, and most people don’t hang out in cemeteries when they’re still living.”
“Unless there’s a family mausoleum and they visit their family members a lot,” Sarah added.
