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"Why not?" Pierre asked, and I explained. He listened, his face turning grim and dark.
"It makes it even worse if you permit what he did to destroy what you had," he said after I finished describing what had happened. "It wasn't Nature's fault, was it?"
"No."
"Then what we must do is win back your special place, win back its magic for you."
"I can't go back there, Pierre."
"With me, you can do anything," he said defiantly and firmly. "Take me as close as you can and I will do the rest," he declared.
My heart pounding, fearful and nervous, I did as he asked, bringing us right up to the overgrown cypress before stopping the canoe.
"Well?" Pierre asked, sitting up and gazing around. "Is this it?" He looked very disappointed.
"No." I smiled. "It's through there," I said, pointing to the cypress.
"You can go through there?" He stood up. "Let me have that," he said, taking the pole from my hands excitedly. It was my turn to sit and watch him work. He pressed us forward, the canoe penetrating the branches and leaves, which parted like a door, and then we were there.
The horror of what had happened to me began to rush back through the halls of my memory, charging forward, every image, every sound, as vivid as they would be had it all happened minutes ago. I grimaced, but Pierre didn't notice. He was drinking in the beauty of my pond.
"It is magnificent here," he said, gazing over the clear water. There was my pair of egrets, strutting over the big rock. I looked up at the top of the gnarled oak on the north side. The heron's nest was still there, but I didn't see her.
"Is that where you used to go to sun yourself?" Pierre asked, pointing to the rock.
"Oui, "I said weakly. He pushed forward, tied the pirogue to the branch sticking up from the water, and stepped onto my rock.
"I, Pierre Dumas, do hereby exorcise any evil thoughts, memories, demons, creatures, and the like from this pond," he said, and waved his hands in the air. "There," he said, smiling down at me. "It's ours now."
I had to laugh. He did look handsome and strong standing there, waving his fist at my past horror. He pulled off his shirt and spread it over the rock. Then he sat on it and waited for me. Gradually, gazing about as if I half expected Octavious Tate to reappear, I stood and stepped onto the rock. For a while I just sat beside him gazing over the water, watching the bream feed, the nutrias scurry about the business of their daily lives. And then, as if it was meant to be a sign of renewal, my heron swooped in over the treetops, dipped toward the water to greet us, and then rose gracefully toward her nest.
"Beautiful," Pierre remarked. He turned to me. "Happy now?"
"Yes," I said cautiously. He smiled, kissed me, and then like an eager teenage boy, hurried to get our picnic spread on the rock. We did have one of our most beautiful days together. Although we kissed and stroked each other, laughed and even teased each other, we did not make love at the pond that day. Pierre was smart enough to go slowly. The look in his eyes promised we would next time, but for now, it was enough to conquer the old demons and reclaim my special place in the bayou.
I felt as if I had a glow about me when I returned home late that afternoon. I walked up from the dock, my eyes down, a small smile on my lips. As I drew closer to the house, I heard a strange voice and paused. The conversation was followed by some laughter and then the clink of bottles. Daddy was entertaining one of his friends, I thought, but I knew Mama never permitted him to do that at the house, so with great curiosity, I approached the front gallery. When I turned the corner, I saw Daddy sitting in Mama's rocker, and across from him sat Richard Paxton, Nicolas's father. The two looked my way sharply when I appeared.
"There she is!" Daddy exclaimed. "Lookin' as pretty as ever."
Monsieur Paxton nodded, his round face beaming as his lips twisted up into a smile. His son had his face, the same round eyes, the same rubberband lips, always a pale red.
"Come on up here and say hello to Monsieur Paxton, honey. You know him. You've been in his store plenty of times. He's got the best and biggest store in Houma."
Monsieur Paxton nodded, his jowls shaking.
"Bonjour, monsieur," I said, and flashed a smile. I started for the door.
"Hold, up now, Gabriel. Monsieur Paxton has come to see me on behalf of his son. You know him well, too, don'tcha?"
"I know him," I said.
"You two graduated together, and Monsieur Paxton here tells me you're the only girl in these here parts he's taken a fancy to. Ain't that right, monsieur?"
"All he talks about is Gabriel Landry whenever we discuss marriage."
"Marriage?" I said, backing a few steps away.
"Sure. Why not?" Daddy asked. "Nicolas is going to inherit the store, right, Richard?" Daddy said, reaching across to slap Monsieur Paxton on the shoulder.
