The Blood Bond

Research

The Darkwater Bay Public Library was a small building. Located in the heart of the small town, Isadora wondered if it was actually a real library. No bigger than the size of a two-car garage, its brick façade and opulent trim was reminiscent of a time long forgotten. Even the front door was something out of the early eighteen-hundred with its stained-glass windows and ornate door woodcarvings. Still, it was the only building in town that supposedly held the information she needed.

She had spent the night in a restless sleep, giving up around four am. After getting dressed and booting up her computer, she wasn’t shocked to find out that Bella Darrow didn’t have internet access. Therefore, she packed up what she needed, called a cab and headed into town. Well, if a town was what they wanted to call it.

Located in the heart of Darkwater Bay stood a small municipal building, a local police department, a library, and a few other small stores surrounding the building consisted of what the townsfolk called a town. She thought it odd that on her drive into town, she found no churches. According to what she knew, the south was prominently seated deep in the Bible belt; therefore, she should have seen at least one church. Yet, she saw none. Thinking it odd, she chalked it up to the fact that Darkwater Bay was small. In all, actually, Darkwater Bay had to be one of the smallest towns in the United States, according to her observation. Then again, she wasn’t there to learn about the town. She wanted information on Bella Darrow and her grandfather. If she came across information on her parents too, she wouldn’t be opposed to learning.

The only thing standing in her way was the fact that the library wasn’t open until noon. Looking at her watch, she had three hours to kill. With no idea where to go, she headed to the only building open at nine o’clock in the morning, the municipal building. Like the library, the two-story municipal building was made of dark red brick. The windows more modern in style looked out of place on the older buildings.

Walking into the building, Isadora was greeted by a bubbly twenty-something woman with a thick New England accent. “Hi, welcome to Darkwater Bay. How may I help you?”

Smiling, Isadora leaned against the counter and stated, “You’re not from these parts.”

The young woman scoffed, and then rolled her eyes. “Oh, dear God no. I’m from Boston.”

“California here. I’m Isadora. If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing here?”

The woman laughed, “I’m Veronica and, besides being the Yankee outsider who stole the hottest bachelor in these parts, I honestly have no idea.”

“I see,” Isadora chuckled. “Well, at least I’m not the only one unwelcome here.”

“You would have thought we’d robbed the bank or something, but they’re not all bad. It’s the bayou people you need to be careful of around here. They don’t like any outsiders at all. For the first three months, Peter had to walk me everywhere. Now, I can go pretty much, where I like. Well, until dark, that is. So what brings you to these parts California?”

“I was here for a funeral. I had planned to leave soon after, but now I think I want to stay a bit. The area is interesting and so is the house I’m staying at.”

“This whole state is unusual. It is full of history and folklore. I’m sure you will find whatever you’re looking for.”

“Yeah. The only problem is that the library doesn’t open until noon.”

Veronica chuckled. “Welcome to the South. Ophelia has morning choir practice over at the Baptist Church in St. Aguste. She’ll be done soon and then you’ll be able to get into the library. Is there anything I can do to help you get started?”

“Now that you mention it. I am looking for deeds for Bella Darrow.”

Veronica grinned and said, “Follow me.” For the next two hours, Isadora found herself immersed in old legal documents. There were so many she was sure she was on a wild goose chase. She had about given up when she found the document she was looking for. Carefully touching the material, she softly read aloud, “The 100-acre parcel of uninhibited land is hereby now gifted to his Lordship, D. A. Ambrose, in the year of our Lord, 1671. All debts fulfilled. Signed by King Louis XIV.”

“What does that mean, all debts fulfilled?” Veronica asked.

“Well, it was widely known that during the reign of Louis XIV, he never really trusted his nobility. He was famous for watching them, making sure no factions started an uprising. It was said that when he traveled, he insisted that all of his noble court traveled with him, so he could keep a close eye on them.”

“If that was the case, then why give a large plot of land to a noble? Was the King trying to get rid of him?”

“Who knows? Generally, when a King gifted land of this magnitude, it was in service to something the King wanted to be taken care of.”

“Maybe this Ambrose took care of an uprising?”

“Possibly, but without further documentation, it’s all hypothetical.”

“What else does the document say?”

“Nothing much, there is just a bunch of signatures and a small mark of some sort,” Isadora said, looking at the mark more closely. It almost seemed like a signet of some kind. It was hard for her to see it clearly, due to the age of the document, but it looked like two lightning bolts crossed over a globe of some kind. Taking out her cell phone, she snapped a picture of the signet.

“This is odd,” Veronica said, looking at another document. “According to this, the first owner of the land was a man named Alfred Domenico.”

“What is the year?” Isadora asked.

“1773. A relative?”

“Maybe. Is there any information on him?”

“None. Just this document stating the title of the land that was purchased by him,” Veronica replied. “And look. The same mark is on the paper too.” Isadora looked at the document Veronica held. She was right. It was the same mark. Looking at another document, Isadora added. “I’ve got another one here, that states that in 1846 the land was bought by David Amerson.”

“And in 1937, the land was purchased by August De’Hon.”

“What?” Isadora asked. “That can’t be. May I see that?” Veronica handed over the old document. Isadora gently placed it on the table before her and read its contents. There, at the bottom of the parchment was the name August De’Hon along with the date 1937 along with the mark. Yet, she knew that was impossible. Her grandfather was seventy-nine when he died. That would mean he was an infant when he purchased the land. That wasn’t possible. Infants couldn’t sign their names. Yet the signature at the bottom of the parchment was her grandfather's. She’d know that chicken scratch anywhere.

None of this was making any sense. There was no way her grandfather could have signed the document and she had no clue as to the men who owned Bella Darrow before the De’Hon’s. The men were a mystery to her along with everything else in her life at the moment. She needed to do more research and concentrate on the four men who owned Bella Darrow before the De’Hon’s, and then maybe she could shed some light on the history of the place. What she really needed was the information that was available in the library. As it was right now, all she knew was the land was given away in 1671 by King Louis XIV and since then, the land has passed from one man to another. Yet she could find no records that stated a transfer in ownership. There was nothing stating when Bella Darrow was built or who owned the land before 1671? Which begged another question. How did the King of France get his hands on land in another country, when his world was overrun with wars and famine?

According to history, Isadora knew that the first French exploration of Louisiana took place in the late seventeenth century when French explorer Robert Cavelier de La Salle named the region in honor of the King of France. The first settlement was founded in 1699 by Pierre Le Moyne d’Iberville, a French officer from Canada. Though the French claimed to be the first to colonize the region, they were not the first to arrive. Before them, in 1528, a Spanish expedition set foot at the mouth of the Mississippi River, led by Panfilo de Narvaez. Then again, in 1542, another expedition arrived that followed the Mississippi River down to the Gulf of Mexico. The area back then was full of native tribes, from the Tunica to the Chitimacha Indians. Isadora wasn’t sure how long the native Indians inhabited the area, which was something else she was going to have to research. She hoped that with further study, she could shed some light on who actually lived on the land before the King of France gave it away.

“I need to head to the library,” she said, looking at her watch, noting the time. “Thank you, Veronica, for allowing me to view the documents. I really appreciate it.”

“It was my pleasure. There really isn’t a lot going on around here. If you need anything else, you know where to find me.” Gathering her things, Isadora headed across the street to the Darkwater Bay Public Library. Her mind was swirling with questions. She couldn’t make heads or tails of it all. Nothing added up, especially the document with her grandfather’s signature on it. That baffled her to no end. She just hoped that the public library contained the information she needed or, at the very least, give her a clue as to where she needed to look next.

The Darkwater Bay library was small, that was for sure. What it lacked in stature, it sure made up for in history and looking at the books around her, Isadora knew the information she needed was here. She had always been amazed by small town libraries. Rich in history, libraries like the one in Darkwater Bay were not only a great source of information; they were a living testament to what life was truly like throughout the years. Everything from land grants to family genealogies could be found in libraries such as this one. Her fingers were itching to start thumbing through the volumes of information waiting to be read.

Searching for the librarian, Isadora marveled at all of the old ledgers that lined the far walls. Generations of history and knowledge were standing before her and she hoped to discover anything about her family's past. She was in her element. This was what she loved. On the cusp of a new discovery, the path to finding something new, the adventure of it all was all right in front of her.

Setting her bag down on a small desk, Isadora wasted no time searching for the ledgers that held the first inhabitants of Darkwater Bay. She was quietly skimming the books when someone cleared their throat behind her, “May I help you?” Turing, Isadora faced whom she believed to be the librarian, Ophelia. She was an elderly African American woman with graying hair and dark chocolate eyes. Her round stature was robust and so was her no-nonsense stare. Righting, Isadora smiled and said, “Yes ma’am. I am looking for information on Bella Darrow.”

“The house or the land?”

“Is there a distinction?”

“The house itself was named after the land. The land originally belonged to the Chitimacha Tribe. It was called something else that I can’t pronounce. The French stole the land from the Tribe in the late 1700’s and gave it away to someone, who named the land Bella Darrow. If you want information on the house, the books are in the corner to the left. If you want information on the land, you will need to talk with a council member of the Chitimacha Tribe.”

“Can you tell me anything about the previous owners?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“My grandfather was from this area. He was buried yesterday.”

The librarian quickly crossed herself and took a step back. “You’re a De’Hon?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“The place is cursed. You need to leave and never come back,” the librarian said, walking away. Okay, Isadora had met some ill-mannered people in her life, but this woman took the cake. First, there was the mortuary, who absolutely refused to take her grandfather, then there was Andrews and his holier than thou attitude, and now the librarian. Isadora had had enough. Everyone was hiding something from her and she wanted to know what it was.

“Excuse me, ma’am, but I am not leaving until I get what I came for. Therefore, you can help me or I will take up residence permanently at Bella Darrow and visit you every day until I am satisfied. I will learn everything there is to know about the land, the house, and the owners.”

“You’re stubborn. That’s good; you’ll need to be if you decide to stay.”

“Stay? Why wouldn’t I stay?”

“The longer you stay, the harder it’s going to be for you to leave.”

“Huh?”

“It’s the curse, Ms. De’Hon.”

“Please, call me Isadora.” Taking a seat at the small desk where she laid her bag, Isadora asked, “I’ve heard Mrs. Randolph talk about a curse but the butler interrupted before she could tell me more.”

“Andrews is an ass. He should have died centuries ago, but alas, the bastard is still living.”

“You said centuries. Don’t you mean years?”

“No, I mean centuries. I was a little girl in the late 1930’s, and everything about Darkwater Bay was mesmerizing. I loved everything about this town. Everything and everyone was full of life and laughter. The town was in the middle of an economic boom when Mr. De’Hon returned and took up residence at Bella Darrow. Like all the times before, everything was wonderful. There were many parties at Bella Darrow and Mr. De’Hon invited everyone. He threw his money into every venture he could find, helping the town and the people. He was liked and respected. Then one night, everything changed. A darkness took over the town.”

“What do you mean darkness?”

“His name was Sabato Tyrese, and he was the most handsome man I have ever seen. All the young belles were crazy about him, but there was something different about him. What no one knew was that he had eyes for my sister, Danielle. She was turning seventeen the following month. Our parents had been saving for years to send Danielle abroad, so she could have a normal chance at life, unlike what she would have had here. The night before, Danielle was due to leave Mr. De’Hon hosted his annual Magnolia Ball. It was all the young belles could talk about. The whole town was invited. Everyone came from all around, even the bayou folk, who rarely ventured out. Because the event was so big, Mr. De’Hon hired extra help.”

“You’re sister?”

“Yes. Danielle planned to use the extra money to buy gifts when she got to Europe. However, the night of the party was the last night my sister was seen, along with Sabato Tyrese. My father blamed Mr. De’Hon and accused him of helping Sabato run away with Danielle, but Mr. De’Hon denied everything. The town took sides, mainly Mr. De’Hon’s. When Mr. De’Hon was found dead a month later and my father was accused of his murder. He was sentenced to death two weeks later and hung for a crime he didn’t commit.”

“I’m sorry, but what does that have to do with Andrews?” Isadora asked.

“Andrews was Mr. De’Hon’s Butler at the time. He never aged. He was still the same old crusty man that you see now. As a young girl, I never liked him. He scared me. He still does today.”

“Are you sure it was the same man? That would mean Andrews is well over a hundred years old.”

“More like a couple of centuries old,” the librarian stated. “Here, let me show you something.” Isadora didn’t know what to make of the woman’s accusations. It was ludicrous for Andrews to be over a hundred years old and still walking around as if nothing was wrong. Oh, she knew that people could live to be a hundred, but they were frail and generally in wheelchairs. Andrews was walking up and down stairs, cleaning and moving about as if nothing was wrong. Knowing that the librarian had to be wrong, Isadora waited for her to return. In the meantime, she had another name to add to her growing list. Who was Sabato Tyrese and what was his connection to Bella Darrow and the De’Hon family?

“Look at this and tell me what you see?” the librarian returned, placing two aged photographs on the table before her. Isadora took her time looking at the two distinctly different photos. The first was a man of wealth dressed impeccably sitting in a carriage drawn by two beautiful black horses. Behind them was a building under construction. The driver, a black man, looked stoically ahead. The other was a man dressed in a white suit and sunhat leaning on a walking cane. Beside him holding two large parcels was a black man, not smiling. In the background of the second picture was a completed building. In both images, the white man looked wealthy and at ease with his surroundings. The black man looked out of place, almost as if he were trying to avoid getting his picture taken. Regardless, Isadora could tell who the black man was in both photographs.

It was Andrews.

“This doesn’t mean anything. So, Andrews doesn’t like having his picture taken.”

The librarian said nothing as she flipped over the first image. Isadora read, “Mr. David Amerson, on his way to auction with his slave, Andrews. Dated, August 17, 1852.”

“Now read the other one,” the librarian said, flipping it over.

“Mr. August De’Hon and his n***o manservant Andrews, circa 1936.”

Isadora looked at the old woman confused. She knew the man in the pictures was Andrews, but it couldn’t be him. Before she could ask another question, the librarian said, “The building in the background is the church. It was first built in the early seventeen hundred when the town started to prosper. When the Yankees arrived, they destroyed everything from businesses to old antebellum homes. Bella Darrow survived without a scratch. The town was rebuilt after the war, thanks to the generosity of Mr. Amerson. In 1915, Louisiana was hit by what the weather people say was a category four hurricane. It made landfall near Grand Isle, destroying everything in its path. It took years for Louisiana to recover, more so for small towns like Darkwater Bay. For a while, the town thought about leaving, but that’s when Mr. De’Hon arrived. He helped the town rebuild.”

“It seems that your town has had some significant beneficial benefactors.”

“Not beneficial, cursed,” the woman sighed, taking a seat next to her. “You see, every time the new owner of Bella Darrow arrives, the town prospers for a bit. Then overnight, the blood starts to run.”

“You mean deaths.”

“Yes. My granmè used to tell me stories of the blood water at Bella Darrow. She said that at night on a full moon, the blood would run, cursing all who looked at the moon. I never understood any of it, until my sister went missing. All that was found the next day was her hair comb and a small pool of blood near the lake. The locals searched that cursed lake for days, but they never found her.”

“You said Mr. De’Hon died a month later. What happened to him?”

“He was found in his bed aged beyond recognition. Some people say he was so in love with my sister that he grieved for her daily that he aged overnight and died. Others say the curse took him.”

“And Andrews?”

“That old bastard never left. He stays within the walls of Bella Darrow, waiting for the next owner to arrive.”

“Do you know anything about the men who owned Bella Darrow? I have a list I got from Veronica over at the Justice Building. According to the deeds, only four men owned Bella Darrow since 1671. It seems the land has been handed down over the generations. Yet, there is no inclination as to how the men are related.”

“Follow the family line. The answers you seek are there.”

“What family line. My parents are dead and my grandfather just died. I don’t have any siblings, aunts or uncles. My grandfather never talked about his family. I never knew of this place until he died. There has to be something here that can help me.”

“There is nothing. Your family line is part of Bella Darrow. I suggest you seek your answers there,” The librarian said before turning to leave, taking the photos with her. Isadora had so many questions to ask, but couldn’t think of even one. There was more to this story than she was being told. She wanted to know more about the curse but didn’t want to upset Ophelia any more than she already had. She needed to dig deeper. She had to find some reputable proof of ownership and something that would make the generations of Darkwater Bay believe that Bella Darrow was cursed. Until that happened, everything was just superstition and lore.

“Before I leave,” Isadora said, reaching for her bag. “Do you know of anyone who could tell me more about this curse?”

“There is one person. Her name is Heloise. She lives out in the bayou. She is a descendant of the Chitimacha tribe.”

“How do I contact her?”

“You don’t. She will contact you when she feels the time is right.”

“But how?”

“Word has already spread about you. I am sure she will see you soon.” Ophelia said cryptically. With that, Isadora said her goodbyes and thanked the old librarian for the information.

The sun was high above as Isadora stepped out of the library. Instantly her shirt stuck to her body. The humidity of the day was stifling. Looking around, she watched as the residents went about their day as if the heat meant nothing to them. She could barely breathe because the air was so thick as if she were trying to breathe in smoke. The sun beat down upon her, stinging her skin. She used to love the sun. She spent most of her childhood out in it, but now, the blistering rays and unbearable heat were almost too much for her. Deciding it was time to head back to Bella Darrow, she prayed that tomorrow was overcast or rainy.

Going over all the information she had acquired, her head was swimming with information and a million questions. She didn’t know what to make of the pictures of Andrews, knowing there was no explanation for him being alive in 1852 and then in 1936. It was physically impossible. Yet, he was. Then there were the owners of Bella Darrow. All arriving in a time of need for the town. What was more interesting was that each of the men arrived within a hundred years of each other. Coincidence? Isadora didn’t think so. Instead, she started to wonder if there was some event that kept occurring at those particular times. She wouldn’t know more until she looked at astrological and historical calendars. Whatever was happening she was sure she would figure it out. However, until she had more information, she was still left wondering.