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Luc stood beside the table, and I pulled out a chair for him. He gave me a look that said he thought I was crazy. “Can you sit?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t tried. I mean, I sat with you on the stoop, but…” He squatted in front of the chair but sank through it. “This is different than what I’ve done before. Sort of. I don’t have much practice with things like this, either. I never left the cemetery until you.”
“Interestin’. Why’s that?” she asked, sitting across from the empty chair.
I pushed it back under the table. If Luc was standing, I would too.
“Haven’t been able to.” It was nice having someone else hear him. It confirmed I hadn’t lost my mind and made for a smoother conversation.
“Why?”
I held my hand up, showing her the ring. “I found this and put it on, and there he was. Now he’s with me.”
“As I said. Interestin’. Come here and let me see.”
I circled the table and stuck my hand out. I wasn’t going to take it off for her to examine. I wasn’t taking it off until Luc, well, until Luc had a body of his own like he wanted. Though, I didn’t know how that would work. The Rougarou’s first words might be right in the end. We might have to be happy with what we have, though I couldn’t see Luc being satisfied with that. But I hadn’t asked him either. Who knew.
Thankfully, she didn’t ask me to remove the ring. Instead, she turned my hand this way and that. Her hands on my skin were cool and dry. She grabbed a pair of glasses that had been hanging around her neck and slid them up her nose, and then she leaned in closer, inspecting the ring. “This is the ring.” She tapped the metal around my finger. “This is Rose Carollo’s ring.”
“Uh…yes?” I thought that was what Luc had said.
“What do ya know? So you must be thePrince of Jazz. How about that?” She winked at him.
“So they called me.” I didn’t know they called him that, or did I? Hadn’t the tour guide said something like that? I didn’t know, but I could sure understand it.
“He’s fantastic. And deserves—”
“Don’ tell me what he deserves or doesn’t. This is legend. Walking into my house. I know the story. I know what happened to the mambo who done it too. She cursed Rose, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know that. It…I never blamed her. The whole thing broke my heart.”
“I’m sure it did.”
“I thought you were gay?” As if it was my truth to tell. It wasn’t but hearing that this woman broke his heart made me feel. What? Was this jealousy? Maybe?
Luc rolled his eyes. His hat was gone. I didn’t know where he’d put it, and I didn’t ask.
It was Lady Geneviève who answered. “There many ways to break a heart, young man.” Then she tapped the table. “So you want to be a real boy, huh? Want a body?”
I nodded furiously. “Is it possible?”
“Anything be possible. But.” She held up a finger. “It’s gonna cost you. It’s not cheap.”
I was crestfallen. We had been warned. But even though I was broke, there were other ways to pay than money. Right? “What will it cost?”
“First, you need an actual body. I have one. A zombie. He’ll work.” She waved her hand as if dismissing any notion that it wouldn’t.
I wondered immediately if he was cute. Or rotted, but I didn’t voice any of that. “Great.”
“But a zombie is expensive. Takes a lot to make one, and I’ll need to replace it.”
Luc sighed. I could imagine he was dreading the question he had to ask. “What will that cost?”
She shrugged. “Not for me to say, but that’s not all. You also have to pay the spirits. A sacrifice.”
“Sacrifice? Like a goat or a chicken?” I asked like the idiot I was.
Geneviève slapped my arm. Well, I couldn’t blame her. “No.” She said some words that I suspected were cursing in another language. Maybe French or Creole. It had a familiar lilt to it,though I didn’t know the words. “A sacrifice of the heart. That is what it is and you either can give it or you can’t.”
