Melatiah DeCuir, Chp. 3, Gen. 3, 1742

    TWO YEARS LATER:

     Aphrodisia's pale, moon-dusted skin flashed in the light.  Her dewdrop eyes gleamed with willpower and evil.  After her two years of hard work, she was finally going to get what she wanted...
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     Aphrodisia gazed out the window, waiting.  Her stomach felt like it was bubbling.  She was weary of the bland, disgusting taste of farm animal blood.  Her mouth watered.  In just a few moments, her desires would be quenched, fulfilled to the top, overflowing.  She considered letting the wet saliva pool out from her mouth onto the ground, just for extra evil effect, but decided against it. 

     Emilie whimpered in her sleep.  

     Aphrodisia beamed.  It was happening.


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     It was so bright.  Emilie could barely see straight.  Her young son stood behind her.  Emilie could not help but realize how much he resembled both her and her husband.
     "Mother," Melatiah started, and Emilie turned around to face him. 

     To Emilie's great surprise, it was not Melatiah she was facing.  It was a strange woman.  In fact, it was the strange woman that Emilie had been haunted by for the last two years.  The woman had drifted into Emilie's thoughts and attacked her mind.   The woman Emilie had painted on the easel.  And now, Emilie realized, regretfully, that this was the young woman who had plagued Melatiah's peace as well.  And Emilie wanted to cry, for she did not believe her own son's truthful words.  She believed that he was ill of mind, crazy.  She had no faith in her son when she should have.

     And now this strange woman grasped Emilie's shoulders and smirked at her. 
     "What do you want from me?" Emilie asked boldly.  She did not waver from the weight of the arms on her shoulders.  In truth, she stood even taller.

     Emilie stared straight into Aphrodisia's eyes.  Her gaze did not lower, nor did her courage.  Emilie thought of her mother.
     "Well, in fact," Aphrodisia paused to let out a few loud, girlish giggles.  "I want my hunger to be... well, gone.  And you're the only one who can help me do that.  That's why I'm here.  And that's why you're here, too."
     "You're going to stop at nothing to get what you want, isn't that so?  Is there a chance that I die?"
Aphrodisia chuckled, showing her fangs.  "I suppose you could put it that way, yes."

     A silence erupted.  Emilie closed her eyes for a few moments, then opened them.  
     "Must you?  Must you take me from my loving family?  Must you leave two boys motherless?  Must you leave my husband without his wife?  Must you separate childhood friends?  Must you take me without letting me say goodbye?"

     Aphrodisia laughed, as if Emilie had spoken of something very amusing.  "I must!  You need food to live, don't you?  Well, I need blood!  It doesn't mean you'll die!  "  
     Emilie struggled to remain her composure.  She willed herself not to cry.
     "You see, Emilie, I've a great need to drink.  And cattle, and noble steeds -- they just aren't doing it for me.  I need human blood.  That's what I live on.  I would have drank from your son, but he's only a child.  Once he is eighteen, he'll be next.  I just cannot wait!" 
     "But... but why?" Emilie whimpered.  "Why us?"
Aphrodisia became silent and solemn.  "Your family appeals to me greatly.  I wish to say no more about that.  Not a word more."
     "Well," Emilie said confidently, "this is only a dream.  You cannot hurt my family.  You cannot hurt me."  

     "My dear, dear friend," Aphrodisia laughed, taking Emilie's arm, "you are quite mistaken.  This is truly the opposite of a dream.  This is your real life."

     Emilie braced herself for the pain.  And Aphrodisia plunged into her long-awaited wish come true.

     It was quite a bit of time before Aphrodisia was finished.  Normally, a vampire needed to be careful, as many victims perished due to loss of too much blood, but Aphrodisia had pushed that thought to the very end of her mind.  She thought she deserved a little more indulgence -- just this once.  She licked her lips with greed, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
     To the weakened, dazed Emilie, she said, "You've no idea how wonderful that tasted.  I cannot remember the last time I've tasted blood as good as that."  Aphrodisia smiled.  "Thanks for all of your help.  Every drop of it."

     Emilie felt faint and dizzy as Aphrodisia left.  She felt like she couldn't hold on much longer...


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     Emilie awoke with a start.  She was sweaty and shaking.  Head throbbing, Emilie sat up in bed.  She felt a strange feeling, compelling her to walk outside.  Quickly, she got dressed. 

     Emilie felt weak, like in her nightmare.  Just thinking about it made her shiver,  as she tiptoed down the steps, still managing to wake up Melatiah.

     The dream had felt so real...

     ... and Emilie found herself at the same place where the woman bit her: right outside the privy.  Her headache pounded so loudly that she was worried it would wake up her family.
     Suddenly, Emilie felt a feeling of great pain tear across her chest, leaving her in a shroud of darkness.  Her eyes were open and searching, and yet she could not see a thing.

     Emilie's world, at first full of light and hope, darkened.  She fell to her knees reaching out to the sky in a call of help, since her mouth would not form words.

     Emilie thudded to the ground.  Her last wish was to not be alone.  Her last thought was that she had to save her family somehow.  Her black vision lightened and she caught a glimpse of her handsome son, who had followed her out of the house and was now shouting at her with words she couldn't hear, images she couldn't well comprehend.

     Emilie reached out to her son, willing him to not leave her side.
     "Mother!" Melatiah yelled, desperately.   "I won't leave you!"

     The last thing Emilie saw was the midnight sky.

     "Mother!" Melatiah wailed.  "Mother, why did you have to die?  Why?"  
     Aphrodisia hesitated.  "There, there, Melatiah.  She really loved you," she said, biting her lip.

     At that moment, the consequences of Aphrodisia's actions dawned on her.  She had taken too much blood.  She should have been more careful!  She had only meant to scare Emilie, and just have a little wicked fun!  For the first time in her life, Aphrodisia felt a new feeling: regret.



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*The Antique Legacy*

Melatiah Beaumont

Melatiah DeCuir, Chp. 2, Gen. 3, 1740

~Late July, 1740~

Dear Journal:

     I, Melatiah, have written because of great importance -- it has been such a long time since I have written and I feel the need to catch up! Mother and Father decided to have us move.  To Charles Town, South Carolina!  Oh, it was such a long, long ride by horse and buggy!  I am so happy to be here at last.

     Mother and Father gave the house to Aunt Hettie and Aunt Felicity.  They promised to take good care of it.  How sad they were to see us go!  Aunt Felicity cried, and Aunt Hettie kept staring at the house, then us, then sighed in deep unhappiness.  I was sad too, so little nine year old me gave them a kiss farewell.  Yuck.  Well, I'm older now.  Can't you believe I am now twelve?  I'm way too old to be giving sloppy, childish kisses.  That stuff is for Charles.  Not I, Melatiah.

     I think my aunts were happy to receive the house.  Mother has told me many things about it.  She says it was very special.  Naturally, they should be happy to have the house.  I know Mother was sad.  I think I know why.  We had to leave many things behind because the horse couldn't carry too much weight.  He's an old horse, anyway.  Mother argued so much with Father.  She wanted to bring an old clock.  I don't know what was so special about it.

     She begged Father, but he wouldn't allow her.  Mother, I could tell, was heartbroken.  Why?  It was just an ancient clock!  I don't believe it has any special significance or anything such as that...

      
     One of the other things Mother was upset about was that we couldn't take Grandmother Elizabeth's portrait.  I was a tad saddened, too.  I am intrigued by her.  Her very presence is in the vicinity of that portrait.  I feel as though I'm being watched when I'm around it.  It is not a bad feeling.  It is a comfort.  I think she is beautiful, too. 

     Well, I must be going now.  I think Mother is calling my name... Yes, she is.  It must be suppertime already!

     Au revoir,

          Melatiah

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May, 1740;

     The house in Charles Town was similar to the Beaumonts' house in Detroit, though it was not a complete mirror.

     The architecture was actually quite different from other angles.

     The house was accompanied by the slaves' quarters...

     ...and, of course, a privy.

     Emilie couldn't comprehend why  Bernard had wanted to move so badly.  The house, on the inside and outside, looked almost exactly the same as their prior home.  Emilie had a sick, nauseous feeling at the pit of her stomach.  The house appeared to be the same size...

      
     The house was smaller. The house was smaller... THE HOUSE WAS NOT THE SAME SIZE, IT WAS SMALLER!  Emilie panicked.  She knew that they were not in the company of Exeter and Nancy (surprisingly, she was not too upset with Melatiah for setting them free), but Bernard had promised a larger house.  Emilie could not believe it.  Bernard had the house custom-made and he had it made SMALLER?  

     Emilie felt a burning feeling inside, a combination of quick, scared panic, and a slow, growling anger.  She had left her home, her past -- HER LIFE-- in Detroit for this?  It was not part of the compromise.  Bernard had promised her something much better than this!

     Emilie's rage grew with each step she took.  She wanted to rip each strand of honey golden hair out of her head.  Who cares if the garden is beautiful?  Who cares?  WHO CARES? I was tricked! Tricked!  

     She began feeling slightly faint, dull black was closing in on her vision.  She slowly staggered to the safety of a wooden bench.

      
     Bernard wandered about in boyish wonder; chasing after yellow butterflies and smelling iridescent flowers.  Emilie watched in bitter jealousy, the dark cloud on a sunny day.  Though, to her surprise, her unhappiness drifted away as she saw the joy on her husband's face.  He was very happy.  This place was everything he had wanted.  He would be forever happy in this home.  
     "Isn't this just delightful?" He giggled happily. "I had this garden made specially for you, my love."  Emilie decided at that point that if her husband was happy, she would try to be, too.

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     Melatiah loved exploring the mansion.  He crept through corridors, peeked inside the privy, and tiptoed on the trails in the backyard.  He even stole a look at the slaves' quarters, which he frowned upon.  Ever since he had set Nancy and Exeter free, he decided to set free any slave he had acquired.  No exceptions.  No exceptions at all.


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     The girl had followed them.  Goodness, was she tired from all that following!  From Detroit to Charles Town -- it was such a long, winding path that she honestly wanted to drink a whole ocean of hot, steaming blood.  Her throat burned from the lack of blood, her stomach growled, and at the end of the day, she had no source to drink from.  She really was not the chattiest woman in town. She silently urged Melatiah to grow up faster.  She was thirsty!
     And, she was just about to depart from the home, when...

     ... she ran right in to Melatiah.
     "Hey, it's YOU!" Melatiah screamed.  
     The girl, bored, sighed.  "What a miracle.  Now, will you please move out of my path?  I'm trying to leave."
     Melatiah did not notice her cold tone.  He barely heard her words.  "Father, help!  Help!"  He scrambled over to Bernard.

     "Father!" Melatiah pulled on Bernard's sleeve nervously, "there's this strange girl and she followed us from Detroit!  I know not of what she wants from us, but-"
     "Melatiah!"  Bernard snapped sharply, not looking up from his book.  "There is to be no yelling in the house.  And I see no woman in this room."

     "But, father, she's right over there!"  Melatiah pleaded desperately. 
     Bernard looked up, shook his head, then continued reading.  "There is no woman there, Melatiah.  Stop playing these games.  I am not amused in the slightest."
     The girl grinned an evil smirk and giggled to herself.  Melatiah shot her a frantic, wary glance.  "À bientôt, Melatiah."

     Melatiah's fear, to the girl, was almost as enjoyable as drinking blood.   She grew thirstier by the day.   The girl began to find small animals like cattle and horses to stunt the thirst that held her in a hungry grip.  She longed for the blood of little Melatiah, but attacking a child was out of the question.  It would never be possible.

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     When Emilie could not resist the tears, she let them fall.  She wanted to return home, to Detroit, where she had always wanted to stay.  She cried for Elizabeth, for little Charles would never remember her sweet face staring down at him from the portrait.  She cried for all the future generations of Beaumonts because they would never know Elizabeth.  They would never know her beautiful face, her classic, distinct smile, or her personality. She cried because she would never see the old clock again.  Oh, that clock!  That clock that survived the fire that killed Elizabeth Laurier-Beaumont!   
     I will never see my mother's portrait again.  I will never see the clock again!  I will always remember the happenings that occurred in that lemon-drop house.  Time, after all, never really dies.

     "Mama?" Melatiah whimpered at seeing his mother crying.  Caught by surprise, Emilie wiped her eyes and tried to appear cheery and warm, a mask over her true feelings.
     "Promise me one thing, my dear," Emilie smiled weakly.  "Promise me that you will write down everything you know about me.  We must begin a family tree.  I will write everything I know about my mother, and you will write everything you know about me.  And you will tell your children this and they shall do the same.  We must remember our family.  We must never forget."
     Melatiah nodded solemnly.  "I promise, Mama.  I promise."
    

      "That's my good boy." Emilie sniffed and gave him a hug.  Melatiah told her about the strange girl.  Emilie stiffened.  Bernard had told her, angrily, about Melatiah's peculiar behavior a few days ago.  
     "Uh, how interesting.  What is her name?"
     

     "I know not of that," Melatiah confessed.  "But I'm really scared.  She always talks to me and I think she is quite pretty, although she scares me so much!"
      Emilie didn't know to say.  "Well, uh, just walk away when you see her, how about that?"  Melatiah sighed and nodded, distressingly.  He could tell that she just did not understand.  He could not possibly walk away from the girl; she'd most likely follow after him!
     Melatiah thanked his mother and watched her return inside the mansion with a slight slump in her shoulders.  Before he could think about it more in depth, he saw the girl again.

     "Good day, young Melatiah," the girl mimicked in an attempted manly voice.   
     "Who are you?" Melatiah asked worriedly.  "What do you want?"  
The girl pouted, knowing the questions had to come up at some time.

     "My name is Aphrodisia Fledermaus.  I'm thirsty," she said, putting it quite simply.  A grin broke out on Melatiah's face.  "Your name is Aphrodisia?  I adore that name.  It is graceful and unique."
     Aphrodisia rolled her eyes.  "Yada, yada, yada.  The point is-"
     "Where do you live?  Where did you come from?  Why did you follow us?  Do we have something you want?  Why am I the only one who can see you?"
     Aphrodisia sighed.  "I'm hungry..."  
     "My mother-"
     "Your mother?" Aphrodisia interrupted hopefully, the fire in her eyes.  
     

     "Yes, my mother-"
     "Is she nice?  Is she a really good mother?"
     "Well, yes, naturally!"
     "Does your mother make friends easily?"
     Melatiah looked at her strangely.  "Uh, I suppose so."
     "Hm.   When can I meet her?   I'm nearly starving."
     "But she would not be able to see you-"
     "You know not of that, Melatiah."
     "But-"
     "Stop."  Aphrodisia's forcefulness surprised him.  She was beginning to confuse him.  "I cannot wait to meet her.  You've been such a big help.  Thank you, ever so much."  She winked at him evilly.  Melatiah shuddered.  He could not help but think she had something up her long, intricate sleeve.  There was something about her that he felt he couldn't trust, in the way back of his mind, but he was blinded by her beauty, and couldn't see beyond his eyes.

     Melatiah's intuition was trying to tell him something, but he would not listen to it.  In the events that followed the encounter between Aphrodisia Fledermaus and Melatiah DeCuir, young Melatiah would suffer greatly, and so would his family.


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*The Antique Legacy*

Melatiah DeCuir

Melatiah DeCuir (Beaumont), Chp.1, Gen. 3, 1737

~Spring, 1737~

Dear Journal:

     Mother has taught me how to write in a journal.  Diaries are for girls!  I think the word 'diary' is boring, anyway.  Journal sounds much more sophisticated.  Then, Mother pointed out that Grandmother wrote in a diary, and therefore diaries are very special, but I knew better than that!  Grandmother was a girl, obviously!

     

     Nancy is with child!  When I heard of the news, I felt a twinge of jealousy.  Nancy always looked after me like her own child, and now she would never look at me the same way.  She will see the baby and how its skin is like her own, and how mine is different.  She will have a stronger connection to the baby than to me, and it makes me sad because I love Nancy like she was my Aunt.  The baby will arrive soon, and I know that its arrival will change Nancy in many ways.  It will pull her away from me.

     Mother has gone truly crazy with visiting our family.  We visit Aunt Felicity and Aunt Hettie each at least twice a week.  I love them very much, but sometimes I really need a break from them.  Once, I pretended I was sick to get out of a visit to Aunt Hettie, but my mother still made me go.  I think she knew I was faking.

     We never see Aunt Mabeline.  Mother went to her home with a basket of flowers and vegetables, but Aunt Mabeline was not there.  My other Aunts had never seen her since she left our house after she grew old enough to.  We hope she's doing well, but we are worried.  It has been years since anyone has seen her.  Mother has even asked around town, but to no avail.

     Mother has been pressuring me to keep the last name of Beaumont, but truthfully, my last name must be DeCuir, after Father.  Father and I try to tell her this, but she glares at us, sighs, and stomps away before we can ask why she's upset.

     Au revoir,
          Melatiah DeCuir (NOT Beaumont)


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     On a late spring night, Bernard wanted to discuss something important with Emilie.  He met her in the cemetery.
      "What is it that you wanted to talk about, Bernard?" Emilie asked with a smile.

     "I was thinking that maybe we should, well, move."  The words hung in the air like stray clouds on a clear day.
     "M-move?"  Emilie choked out.
     "Well, yes, I think we need a change.  The house is nice and all, but it is limited in abilities.  It is too small for our children and Exeter and Nancy and their soon to be born child. And our possibly future children," Bernard added and smiled at her.
     Emilie was not sure about what to say, or how to respond.  "But-but if we move, then I will probably never see my sisters again."
     Bernard sighed and nodded.  "I know.  And I know how much you love them.  But part of the reason I want us to move is because we could live where so many more people are.  Here, it is not as settled as a place such as Boston, or Charles Town.  And think of the future opportunities for us and our children in a place like one of those!"


     Emilie was silent.  She could see that Bernard couldn't stand Detroit any longer.  She knew that Bernard had a tendency to keep his opinions to himself until he could not handle it.  
     Emilie also knew that this was the home of her mother's dreams and hopes.  This was the house that she had been raised in.  It was the home in which she had all the memories of her life, both good and bad.  It was where she learned to follow her heart and cried the night away.  It was where her family was buried.  And Bernard was asking her to leave it all and not come back.
     Of course, Bernard was not just 'anyone'.  He was the love of her life.  He had been with her through the hard times (for the most part) and helped her heal.  He loved her and the children more than anything and would do anything for them.  Emilie wanted him to be happy, and knew that he would be anything but if they stayed.


     Emilie thought of Felicity and how she had a commitment to Anne and the Normand family.  Emilie had a commitment to Bernard.  And she loved her sisters; that would never change, but she had to follow her path with Bernard.  Maybe her sisters would see her again sometime.

     "Bernard," Emilie pulled him close, "I would follow you to the ends of the earth."
     Bernard smiled and kissed her.  

      Emilie slipped her hand in Bernard's.  "I love you."

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     The next morning while Exeter was eating breakfast, Melatiah hoped down the steps and froze in awe in the kitchen.

     The most beautiful woman he had ever seen was standing across the kitchen, smirking at him with bright, peculiar eyes.  Her skin was pale and appeared to be glowing.  At the same time she froze him with her beauty, she petrified him with fear.  She was staring directly at him. 
     "Well, what do you think you're looking at?" The girl asked with so much attitude that Melatiah was taken back and stumbled over his words.  "Um, well, I-"

     "Well, SCRAM!"  The girl screamed in evil delight and laughed at Melatiah, who, in fear, ran upstairs to hide.  She snickered and tried to stifle her giggles.

      The boy's fear was definitely satisfying to her.  Yes, she was still intimidating after all these years!  And she had found Melatiah at last.  What a wonderful day. Hahaha!  
     The girl disappeared from the house in a blur of color.  Exeter had seen nothing.

     No doubt about it, that boy is the one.  The girl hurried out of the light.  As she ran, her curls of ribbony hair were flames upon her fiery head.

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     Thom was born shortly after Melatiah's incident with the strange girl (he had not told anyone about her).
     Instead of being happy, Nancy was sad.  Thom was born into a harsh, cruel world of slavery, and he would never know the meaning of happiness, true, uncompromising happiness.  Nancy knew that the it was possible the Beaumonts send the family to an auction instead of keeping them, and that was what scared her the most.  If this happened, her little baby would know work and orders and punishment. He would know fear and sorrow and sadness.  Nancy felt guilty for giving him life into such a world.

     Later, that night, when Melatiah knew his parents were sleeping, he woke Nancy, Exeter, and the baby, and brought them outside.
     "I just wanted to say goodbye," Melatiah whispered sadly.  "I want you to be free.  I don't  know what happened to you before you lived here, but I think you all deserve to be free.  Nancy, you have always been there in my life.  I feel like you are almost a second mother to me, and you are a person just like me.  You should be worrying about taking care of Thom, not working as a slave."  Melatiah sighed.  "I hope my family has been good to you.  I will really miss you all.  I love you so much and I hope you can make it up North and be free."

     Nancy could see Exeter ahead of her, and she knew he was listening with all of his heart, though he did not turn to look at Melatiah.
     "Dearest Melatiah," Nancy looked at the young boy, "I knew since you were born that'choo had somethin' special about'cho self.  I saw somethin' in yo eyes that reached out to me.  You have no idea 'bout what'choo are doin' for us.  I cannot thank you enough."  Nancy's eyes watered. 
     "You are givin' ma baby a life to live in happiness.  And he will neva cease to hear about the Great Melatiah DeCuir.  Thank you with all uh ma heart."

     Melatiah almost cried as Exeter, Nancy, and Thom made their escape.  He didn't look back.  Before he left, Exeter paused, and whispered a prayer for Melatiah.  
     Melatiah knew they would make it.  He went inside, knowing he would be punished, but not at all caring.

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     The girl watched it all, with a tear in her eye, even more sure that Melatiah was the one.

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*The Antique Legacy*

Melatiah DeCuir