|
|
The Beginning... |
|
Sanctuary The teenaged girl shivered a little in the darkness and pulled her
sweater tighter around herself. She walked faster against the chill
down the worn road that would lead her into the city. Even this late
at night, she could see lights as the road widened, inviting her into
the welcoming arms of New Orleans. Celeste had been down this road
many times with her mother but never alone. She shivered again, but
not from the damp chill air. Excitement, freedom, and fear all fought
for supremacy of her emotions as she approached her future. The city had been growing at an amazing rate since the
Americans had taken control of it. Until then the city had been built
and rebuilt to the patterns of both French and Spanish beaurocrats who
had failed miserably in both populating the city and at guiding it to
its potential. The Americans seemed to have made no such mistake and
had also left the legacies of the former owners relatively
undisturbed. While slaves like her mother were still considered
property, this city had the largest population in the country of
freemen, those slaves and immigrants who had been freed or given land
by the desperate Spanish to people their property against the French
and English surrounding them. Here, amid the growing population and
tolerance of free blacks, Celeste hoped to maintain what she had left
her mother's side to gain. One young dark-skinned girl would be hard to find in such a
city where many like her roamed free of slavery's bonds. The growing
population required service of many forms. She was sure work would not
be hard to find. Still, how long could a young girl remain safe alone
in such a city? She had no identity and no protection against any who
might choose to entrap, molest, or harm her. Casting a glance over her
shoulder at the discouraging thought, she considered by what means she
could avoid such trouble. Once she found a job, she would have some
protection, she realized. If someone needed her, they would protect
her. But where should she go until then? She had no family but her
mother, who she would probably never see again. Any acquaintance of
the master might return her to him, so she had to be careful of who
she revealed herself to. Letting her feet follow the larger streets as
she considered, she paid little attention to where she was going.
"Mon Dieux, ou peut je t'aller?" Indeed, where could she go
for shelter until she had found her own? Tripping over a stone in the road, her attention was forced
back to her surroundings. She stifled a yawn and searched the array of
lanterns and shadows surrounding her. Storefronts interspersed with a
few fences behind which stood private homes ignored her plight in
their sullen darkness. Peering further up the street, she could make
out signs denoting inns for the travelers who could afford them. Their
lights beckoned invitingly into the night, but Celeste knew they would
not help her. Even if she offered to work in one, waking the
proprietor at this hour would more likely reduce her chances of
getting in the door than helping. No, maybe after dawn she could seek
sanctuary there, but not now. She walked wearily past the lights, her
search continuing. Gazing up at the bright silver stars, she forced
down a moment of despair. As her eyes threatened to flood, a gleam of
brilliance like a ruby tear seemed to flash up ahead. A rush of breeze
fanned her face and brought lantern flames to a sudden flair. Again,
the ruby light, and a glimpse of green and blue as well, forced her
eyes up to their source. Celeste stopped suddenly and stared into the magical play of
light and color gleaming from a tall narrow window. Surrounded by whitewashed timber, the collage of color sorted
itself into an image. A beautiful woman holding a laughing babe seemed
to smile down at the Creole runaway. Celeste's eyes traveled down the
spire of wood and color to a larger building-front flanked by a pair
of columns beyond which stood a wide door. A lantern hung lit above it
in a welcoming glow. Heaving a weary sigh, Celeste plodded past the
gate and up the steps to the door. Her hand trembled as she reached
for the latch. When it clicked open, she released the breath she
forgot she had been holding. As she closed the door behind her, she let her eyes and body
adjust to the flickering light and gentle warmth of the large room.
Inhaling deeply, she took in the musky scent of incense and wax. Away
from the breeze and dampness of the world outside, she shivered in
reaction and crept up the aisle between the two long rows of benches.
In the shifting candlelight, she could just make out the shape of a
cross on the wall at the end of the aisle. It hung above a large altar
that seemed to writhe as the candles gave the carving life. Along the
side walls, more rich colors like the ones that had called her invited
her mind to fill itself with their beauty. Unable to walk any further,
Celeste stopped midway down the aisle and stepped into one of the
pews. Settling herself on the worn wood bench, she rested her head on
her small basket and fell into a deep sleep. -Sonja Torres 1999 |
|