Page 50 of Feral
“It is, isn’t it? Lily Weeks' only child, William Weeks Hall, donated the house to The National Trust for Historic Preservation at the end of his life in 1958. It’s been in their hands ever since.”
He leads me out to the back of the house where the view of Bayou Teche is breathtaking. The live oak trees mix with the Spanish moss that hangs off almost every tree creating a picturesque scenery.
The burst of color from the bright pink camellias, azaleas, and bamboo roots add to the memorable sight. I bend down and take a whiff of the stunning flowers, their heady smell intoxicating. Bastien waits for me as I take my time taking in every little detail, then he leads me around the winding gravel pathway into a densely vegetated area.
“Is this what I think it is?”
“Yes, it’s the family’s graveyard. All four generations are buried here,” he says and a strange eerie feeling consumes me.
“It’s absolutely magnificent. Thank you for bringing me here.”
“It’s my pleasure, Gemma. I have always been fascinated with the stories I heard from my grandmother growing up. She used to be friends with the man who manages the place now. Jacob was entrusted with a key for safe keeping.
“I was wondering how you had a key to unlock the door earlier. Has Jacob been here?”
His voice carries over the evening breeze. “More times than I can count. He’s got a special bond with this house. Just don’t tell him I told you so.”
We retrace our way to the back of the house and he gestures toward a nearby bench overlooking the swamp. I am the first one to sit, and he joins me, sitting a few inches away.
“I wish he wasn’t so stubborn, you know?” I sigh. “He’s so damn stubborn it breaks my heart. Why won’t he listen to the doctors?”
“Better let him be, sweetie. He won't change his ways, even if it's for his own good.”
“Was he always like this or is it because of the accident?” I can't help but ask, curious to learn more about the man that's captured my heart.
Bastien sighs and then looks at a small bird flying away. “My father has a penchant for the forbidden things in life, in case you haven't noticed.”
A laugh escapes me before I respond. “Very true. I guess he does. I mean he did have an affair with his best friend’s wife.”
“And he’s with you, a woman close to half his age. He’s been around so much shit in his life, you'd think he'd know better, but somehow, he continues to surprise me.”
I tuck a strand of loose hair behind my ear and look across the vegetation into the Bayou. “You're worried it's going to end badly, aren't you? Because of what happened with us back at the house?”
He seems distracted as he ponders my question. Aloof even. It's as if our having sex a few hours ago never happened. He entwines his fingers and stretches them, making a strange breaking sound that has my skin breaking out in goosebumps.
A few seconds later, I realize he's not going to answer and I stand, walking toward the edge of the property. I turn around to find him staring at the other end of the swamp and I raise my voice so he can hear me.
“I'm hungry. Can we go someplace to eat?”
“Sure,” he says, standing himself. “I know just the place to go. Prepare to try the best-pulled beignets and chargrilled oysters in the US.”
“I’ve only ever eaten shellfish once,” I say, looking back at the striking building one last time before we leave. “Can't say I remember much of what it tasted like.”
“You're going to love it. Trust me,” he says, already several feet away from me.
A few hours and a ton of delicious food later, we get back on the road and the vibrant atmosphere adds to my good mood. I picked up a brand new phone, mine having been destroyed when I fell into the murky water the other night and I also found a beautiful striped sundress on sale. All of a sudden, my mind goes to Jacob and an unsettling feeling goes over me. It's hard to describe, but I'm feeling guilty. Bastien picks up on my change in mood.
“What’s the matter? Aren’t you having fun?”
I turn to look at him, and his eyes are wary, concerned.
“I’m fine. I was just thinking about Jacob,” I confess. “I hate that he’s living like that. So cut off from the world.”
“My dad has lived his life to the fullest extent, Gemma. Have no doubt about that. Don’t pity him; he hates that.”
We keep on walking down the enchanting streets in a much less populated area when I suddenly notice the cutest little gift shop.
“Do you mind if I go inside?” I gesture toward the small establishment and he just smiles.
