May, 1760
Dear Journal:
According to a newspaper, Boston was recently set ablaze; apparently much of the city was damaged greatly and Aphrodisia and I hope and pray for every soul who was lost in that fire. We often find ourselves worrying about our welfare here, in Charles Town. We pray that we be kept safe from any disaster.
The French and Indian War, we hope, will end soon. It has been going on for a few years now, and Aphrodisia is very nervous and unruly at the moment. I suspect that she is worried about the war. I, too, wish the war would end so I can see my wife's carefree, beautiful face again.
Aphrodisia has had her heart set on bringing a child into the world; however, I worry that it is unhealthy for her to be so determined when we are not even sure if it is possible for vampires to give birth. I am afraid to tell her this -- that maybe it is impossible for her to bear a child -- but I don't think I can bring myself to. She is very unhappy, and I suspect she feels guilty that she cannot conceive. I wish she wouldn't worry so.
Even if we cannot have a child, I will not be distraught. I just want what's best for Aphrodisia. I just want her to smile again. I am very worried about her.
Au Revoir,
Melatiah
******************************************************************************
Aphrodisia could not stand it. She had been so happy. She'd had everything. And now, all the happiness had left her, and she felt like she just didn't have enough of anything. She wanted a cherry on top of her slice of life. A child.
Was it that she just didn't deserve it? Was it bad karma coming back to haunt her? Could it be the fact that a bloodthirsty murderer didn't deserve such an innocent human being? She considered each of the possibilities.
It was shameful, being unable to provide Melatiah with a son. Or a daughter. It was considered a wifely duty to give her husband a large family. Feeling worthless, helpless, and hopeless, Aphrodisia sighed, trying to hold back tears. She knew, deep down inside, that her vampirism was the reason she was not with child. If only there were a cure!
Melatiah probably regrets marrying me, she mused. He probably wants to divorce me. I guess I wouldn't blame him. If I were him, I would want a woman who could bear me a child. Me, I'm like a dead tree. I have nothing to give my husband. I have no worth to him at all.
Looking at the red bottle she gripped tightly in her hand, Aphrodisia stifled a sob. She had purchased the bottle just yesterday at the town's apothecary's shop. He had given her the deadliest poison he had, at her request.
"My dear Melatiah deserves someone much better than I. He deserves a child. A child I... I cannot give him." Aphrodisia bit her lip.
Giving the world one last glimpse, she brought the ruby bottle to her lips and drank every last drop of the burning liquid...
"Huh?" Aphrodisia drew in a breath of air. "What happened?" She looked at the bottle in her hand. "How come I'm still alive?" She felt fantastic. She felt the most alive she had ever been in her life. She felt vibrant and radiant. She looked at her hand. For the first time in many years, Aphrodisia saw peachy pink fingers. No more pasty, bluish skin. It was as if she were a butterfly emerged from a cocoon. She rushed to a mirror.
"My goodness," Aphrodisia gasped. Touching her cheek, she giggled in girlish wonder. "I'm human again!" She admired her pink face, reddened cheeks, and salmon lips. She stared in the mirror and saw natural eyes. "Normal eyes!"
Aphrodisia laughed and smiled, feeling like jumping and running. Her fangs were gone and so was the strange mark on her neck. Finally, she felt a hunger for real food! The longing for blood had disappeared completely.
She dashed out into the sun and danced with joy. No longer did she feel the energy seeping away from her because she was in direct sunlight!
It dawned on Aphrodisia that she would now be able to have a child. She stood taller and pulled her shoulders back and felt the warmth of the sun on her face. "Thank you," she whispered, so quietly that the words were inaudible even to her.
At hearing Melatiah behind her, Aphrodisia readied herself to speak to him.
Melatiah stared at his wife, mouth agape. "Aphrodisia, your skin-"
"I'm human again." Aphrodisia said shyly.
"This is wonderful, dear! But how? Why?"
Aphrodisia could barely look at her husband. "Well, I cannot believe what I was about to do..." She saddened at the memory. "I almost killed myself. I nearly took my life. Just a few minutes ago. But, I guess the poison was actually a cure for vampirism. I did not believe there was even a cure!"
"What? You tried to -- to -- kill yourself?" The look in Melatiah's eyes was heartbreaking to Aphrodisia. "Why would you do that?" He grew angry. "Why would you try to take your life? What about the life we have made together for ourselves? Was it not good enough? Did I do something wrong?"
"No, no! It wasn't about you. Well, actually, it was. But I did not think I was good enough for you."
"Aphrodisia, I love you. I married you because I love you more than anything. I chose to spend my life with you."
"You don't understand, Melatiah. It's a wife's duty to give her husband a family. And I couldn't do that for you. I thought you deserved better. I didn't want to waste your time..."
Melatiah stroked her cheek. "If you cannot bear a child, I will still be happy because I have you. Can't you see that? I love you so much -- that's all I care about right now. You are my beautiful wife and I married you because I love you with all of my heart -- not because you would have a child. And it would be our child, not mine! You would be providing us with a child, not me!"
Aphrodisia smiled. "Oh, Melatiah! I'm so sorry I didn't tell you about how I felt. I should have talked to you about all of this long before I bought that bottle. I hope you can forgive me."
"Of course I can forgive you. I love you!"
******************************************************************************
It all seemed so perfect. Aphrodisia's life had turned around in mere seconds. But as she was "physically" twenty years old (she had become a vampire when she was twenty), a few months after she was cured of vampirism, Aphrodisia woke up to a shocking surprise one day.
Wrinkles around her mouth had appeared, and Aphrodisia nearly screamed.
"How could this happen? I'm but 'twenty' years old!"
To look like she was ten years older or even double her age was unsettling to her. What happened to looking vibrant and radiant? She didn't necessarily feel very great either.
There was something going on, and Aphrodisia was fearful of what it was...
******************************************************************************
*The Antique Legacy*
Melatiah DeCuir
Aphrodisia and Melatiah fell into a swoon of love. Minutes melted into hours, which flew into days, and, ultimately, years. Slowly, Aphrodisia earned back Melatiah's trust. She had deserved it. Melatiah loved her, and decided that she should be forgiven. He knew he wouldn't regret it. He was sure he wouldn't be able to wait any longer to become Aphrodisia's husband.
Kneeling down on one knee, he gazed into the glowing eyes of his beautiful wife.
"My word, Melatiah! What are you doing?" But Aphrodisia already knew the answer. She giggled with joy and jumped happily at the thought of being the wife of Melatiah. Over the last five years, she had watched him buy slaves stitched together with the strings of sadness, and set them free -- for the hope that they escape to a happy life. She watched him put his heart into each slave -- to give them something, anything to hold onto in their hard lives. Something to keep them stable. And he listened to the story of each slave, providing them with a warm cooked meal he had made with Aphrodisia to shovel into their hungry bellies. After the stories and large meal, the slaves were set free.
As she excepted the ring, Aphrodisia realized that the killing of Emilie had made him stronger. He craved the good and resented the evil. Aphrodisia lived with the comfort that she did not do everything wrong in her life. Melatiah and his family had brought her the most happiness she could ever expect in her abandoned, stone-cold life. She was just humbled and overjoyed to become a part of the Laurier-Beaumont-DeCuir family. She started crying.
"Are you alright, my sweet?" Melatiah was concerned.
Aphrodisia nodded. "I'm just so happy to be your wife. You don't understand how happy."
******************************************************************************
EARLY SPRING, 1757
DETROIT (Beaumont House)
The old Felicity Beaumont sat on the edge of an ancient bed. Felicity had led an ancient life, as it was shown in the gray that streaked her hair and the wrinkles of joy around her mouth and in the memories in her sparkling eyes. She had seen the ups and downs of her own life, but fought through them and preferred to look at the joys as more valuable then the hardships. She had known both life and death, and was now spending the last of her days in her mother and father's room on their bedside.
Felicity pulled out a diary of her own and looked back on her earliest days.
"Ah... Dear old Emilie had gone through her rebellious phase. She wouldn't listen to anyone but that Bernard. How she did love him. I never did see the big deal between braids and a bun, but, to Emilie, it seemed to make all the difference." Felicity sighed. She flipped forward.
"When Mother died, we were all heartbroken. No one knew she was dying until she was already deceased. We couldn't bear it without her. She had carried so much love for us. We just weren't used to having it all gone." Felicity turned to another page.
"Oh, this was when the DeCuir family decided to move to Charles Town. Emilie wanted Hettie and me to inherit the house. I'm so glad we did. This house has been a garden of memories -- the good and the bad. How I do wonder whatever happened to those DeCuirs. Emilie promised to write... but she never did."
Felicity was deep in thought when she heard a soft knocking on the door. "Come in, dear."
"Aunt Felicity, would you like me to bring up your morning tea?"
"Oh, yes. That would be splendid. Thank you, Abigail." Felicity turned back to her diary. Abigail turned to leave. "Oh, wait! Abigail, would you do me a favor and spend some time in the graveyard today with your sister? I think it would be nice for you two to get out and have some fresh air. Hettie would be so proud of you darling girls. She would have loved to see her pretty daughters grow up into strong women like I have seen."
Abigail nodded. "Of course, Aunt Felicity. We'll go out shortly. Is there anything else?"
Felicity gazed at her niece. "Have I ever told you how much you look like my mother? Your grandmother?"
"Uh, no, you haven't, Aunt Felicity." Abigail lied. Though Felicity was no doubt sharp-witted and wise, her memory was not as strong as it had once been.
"Well, don't let me hold you up from your daily duties. Go along now," Felicity said fondly. Abigail turned away quietly. She walked to the kitchen, calling for Claudette.
"Claudette? Claudette? Aunt Felicity would like us to visit the graveyard today. Hello, Claudette?" Abigail heard no answer. Frowning, she spotted a dirty dish on the table. "Claud-ette! Why do I always have to be the one cleaning up around here? If you use a dish -- goodness -- clean it up!"
"Well you certainly do not need to yell. Heaven forbid disturb Aunt Felicity..." Claudette came into view.
Abigail glared at her younger sister. "Stop, Claudette. She wants us to go to the graveyard and sit awhile. And I've got to give her fresh morning tea."
Claudette yawned. "Goodness, that woman lives on tea. Is that the only thing she consumes?"
Gasping, Abigail shook her head. "If you had any respect for our Aunt-"
"Come on, Abigail. Let's just get this graveyard thing over with. It's just like another chore Aunt Felicity orders us to do."
"No, it's not. She cares about us very much. More than you care for her." Bickering and arguing, the sisters strolled out to the yard.
Once they had sat on the bench, the argument vanished, like ice on a hot day. They listened to the buzzing of fat bumblebees, saw the mystic butterflies swirling in the crisp morning air, and felt the sun peek out of the clouds and warm their shoulders. Their fight had vanished -- replaced with nature. Abigail supposed that it was probably nature's job.
It was Claudette who interrupted the nature. "Why do you suppose there are so many flowers over Grandmother's grave?"
It was true. To Abigail, it was strange, especially since there were no other bundles of flowers on the other graves. And it looked like it would be very difficult to plant them all over one grave.
"I... I do not know... That is odd."
"Yes. Extremely. Our family always says that you look a lot like her."
"Who cares if I look a lot like her? I wish everyone would stop saying that all the time! I don't care what she looked like, and I certainly do not care if I look like her. I'm NOT her! In fact, I wish I didn't look like her so I wouldn't have to hear everyone telling ME about her! I could never live up to the person everyone says she was. I can't wait to leave this house and stop hearing everyone tell all those stories about who she was because I am so different from her. Does anyone hear me when I say I'm NOT her? Anyone? Do you hear me, Claudette?"
Claudette looked surprised. "I didn't know you felt that way."
"You, Claudette, you just coast along on everything and you always think everything has something wrong with it. You never actually think about things. You just sit here and complain and complain and complain. Don't you ever wonder? Don't you ever wonder if we have cousins living in Charles Town like Aunt Felicity says there might be? Don't you ever wonder if we'll ever get to leave this old house? Do you?"
"Well, Claudette, I do. I think about these things because I have nothing else to think about. I sit here and do chores for Aunt Felicity and I do her cleaning and cooking and I listen to her like a slave. What else am I supposed to do? Yell at our Aunt? Scream? Leave her alone without anyone to care for her? You certainly wouldn't do anything like cleaning or cooking. You'd complain.
"Maybe I'm being selfish, difficult, or unreasonable. But I just know that all my life I've been told about someone better and bigger and smarter. And to be told I look just like her is an insult to me, because I can't compare to her. I'm sorry I yelled at you. I just know that when Aunt Felicity passes away I will move far away. And I won't have to worry about Grandmother again because no one will know me and no one will have known her."
The sisters were silent for some time. They did not look at each other or acknowledge the other's presence. The sisters just rested on an old bench that had always been in that spot. For a while, at least.
After quite a while, when morning had run into noon, Abigail left the bench. Mumbling to Claudette, she said, "I forgot to give Aunt Felicity her morning tea."
******************************************************************************
*The Antique Legacy*
Melatiah DeCuir
