Chapter 41
“Hold your horses, nigga!”
Lauren Renee Bouvier started to walk over to Joshua, but Aubrey put his hand on her shoulder to stop her. He shook his head. She ignored Aubrey and went over to where Joshua was working, wondering with every step if he could be the one ally she would need when the time came for the uprising.
He was certainly big and strong enough, she thought. He was certainly defiant enough; but did he have the intelligence and wisdom and patience necessary to mount an insurrection that could grow and turn New Orleans into a conflagration of inexorable heat and smoke? That was the question.
She stood in front of him and hypnotized him with her eyes. For what seemed like five minutes, there was no sound, only quiet and breathing remained. Now, this was a man, she could tell. Only a man would look at her like she was a goddess, like she was the goddess of goddesses. Only a man would lose his mind and eventually his heart by simply looking at her. Only a man would be weakened by such a gorgeous sight of exquisite beauty.
She thought Aubrey, being a different kind of male, knew nothing of what was passing between them without words, yet he did know, for he had experienced it with the men in the big house of Bouvier Hill.
“Hello. I’m Lauren Renee,” she said and offered him her hand. “Happy to make your acquaintance.”
Joshua’s throat went dry in an instant. He was so lost in her eyes that he couldn’t speak. He swallowed hard in an attempt to take command of his larynx. When he finally regained control of his gaping mouth, he could only manage one word miserly word. Unable to keep himself from smiling, he offered a low, breathy “Hi.”
He put down the mallet, pulled off the glove from his right hand, wiped it on his pants leg, and took her hand. His hand was incredibly large and swallowed hers whole. He kept holding it, kept shaking it, beaming all the while.
Lauren searched his eyes, looking for his heart. In them, she hoped to find what truth lay behind them. She was looking for a warrior’s spirit; a spirit that was strong, precise, and valiant. She was looking for a warrior’s heart of conviction and commitment; one that would not only dare to make a plan of revolution, but one that would actually implement that which was diagramed. She was looking for a warrior’s heart of wisdom; someone who not only knew how to keep his mouth shut about surreptitious schemes, but who could discern hearts and find others like himself. She didn’t know if she had found it in Joshua, but in due time, she would know his heart, as she could see that through one simple introduction, he was hers to do with as she willed. How far he would be willing to go would take time to know.
Aubrey watched them closely, trying to discern if the newest Bouvier was dangerous; if she was friend or foe. He didn’t know for sure at that point, but judging by the way her beauty enraptured his enemy, she could, if not deterred, become a problem for Bouvier Hill, and consequently, himself. He watched them communicate without words for a few more moments, studying them reflectively, trying to sense any hint of danger in the form of rebellion. He detected none and assumed that it was a primitive case of reciprocated attraction, nothing more.
Aubrey cleared his throat. “Uh, Lauren . . . we really ought to be getting back to Bouvier Manor, dear. ”
In a microsecond, Joshua’s face became a maze of contortions. He shot a hot glare at Aubrey and said, “Hold your horses, nigga! What be the rush? The woman just got here.”
In a demure tone, Aubrey offered a fake laugh and said, “Uh, well . . . she still has to settle in. I have much to show her still. You understand, don’t you?”
Joshua picked up the mallet, walked up to Aubrey, and pointed it in his face. “No, I don’t understand, fancy pants, and neither do you.” He put the mallet on Aubrey’s chest and shoved him with it. “What be the rush? She ain’t goin’ nowhere. She gon’ be here from now on . . . and you rushin’ around like she got a ship waitin’ for her in the harbor or somethin’. She gon’ be here fo’ the duration, up yonder in the big house with the rest of you fancy-talkin’ niggas, ain’t she?”
Aubrey took a step backward each time Joshua pushed the heavy mallet into his chest.
“Oh, Joshua, honestly. Do you really have to be so obnoxious all the time? That’s why I didn’t want to come down here. I just knew you’d find a way to start something.”
Joshua shoved hard with the mallet and backed him up farther. “Well, if you knew I was gon’ start somethin’, whatcha come down here fo’?”
“I didn’t want to come down here. It was on the way to the big house, and Lauren wanted to meet you. Believe me, if it were up to me, we would have avoided this wretched place like the bubonic plague.”
“Like the what?”
Aubrey rolled his eyes. “The bubonic plague. The Black Death. Are you so ignorant that you’ve never heard of it?”
“Ignorant?” Joshua took a couple of threatening steps toward Aubrey. “Don’t make me bus’ yo’ head wide open with this here mallet, hear?”
“Uh, Joshua,” Lauren interrupted.
She had seen what she came to see. Joshua was indeed her man. He lacked wisdom and temperament, but he had a warrior’s heart. His fury would have to be curtailed until such time that it could be unleashed. He either didn’t know or didn’t care that Aubrey had the ear of Monsieur Bouvier. At Bouvier’s command, he could be beaten to death, or within an inch of his life, and then where would she be? She had to bring the rift between the men to a peaceful end and build trust with Joshua in the immediate future.
“I did want to meet you and the rest of our people. Now that I have, I better go. We’ll talk again, I’m sure. Like you said, there’s no ship waiting for me in the harbor. I’m not going anywhere for a very long time.”
Joshua turned around and faced Lauren. Smiling, he said, “I look forward to seeing you again, pretty lady. You stop on by any time you like.” Then he looked at Aubrey. “But leave fancy pants at the big house next time, ya hear?”
Lauren smiled.
They started toward the big house.
“Oh, and fancy,” Joshua began, “I got somethin’ tuh say to Louis. Tell ‘im I know he be watchin’ me when he think I don’t see ‘im. But I sees him, sittin’ up there on that there terrace, naked as a jaybird, touchin’ his self. You tell ‘im if he come near again, I’ma take this here mallet o’ mine and bus’ his head wide open, ya hear? That goes for the rest of them Romans in the big house too. All of ya pre-verted.
“And pretty lady, whateva you do, don’t you trust them fancy-talkin’ niggas up there on the hill.”