Chapter 22: The White Witch of Walden - Wine and Murder

BORN TO BE A SLAVE

When I returned, the sun was low in the western sky. I'd given them enough time. Now, I was going to have all the answers to my questions, one way or the other. Once again, just as my life was beginning to follow some sort of badly needed routine, it had been turned topsy-turvy. Tonight, I was going to know why.

Dee had outdone herself in the kitchen. Both she and Brenda came to kiss me when I entered, while Willie simply stood and blushed at the open display of affection. Brenda had obviously gone to the store for the needed provisions, and little Willie had donned an apron and was helping to cut up the ingredients for the salad. Every so often, Dee would stop and demonstrate something, but after observing for a moment, Willie would complete the task with speed and confidence. My wife fixed me a martini, which was the only fare she prepared very well, and I got the distinct impression they were doing their best to "loosen up" the old master.

Before we sat down to the feast, Brenda asked me to open a bottle of wine, which I was happy to do. She'd set out three wine glasses and a beer stein (I preferred beer with my meals), and she poured a glass for herself and one for Willie. As we were seated, Willie regarded it suspiciously.

"I have never partaken of wine, or any other alcoholic beverage," she told us sheepishly. "I really think I'd rather not."

Brenda, who was sitting at my left, across from her, reached out and put her hand on mine. "Tell her to drink her wine, Freddy."

I regarded my wife curiously. "Brenda, if she doesn't want wine..."

She left her hand on mine. "Freddy. Tell her. She'll obey you."

I was shocked at this, and I'm sure my look conveyed it. Brenda, however, made no further comment. I looked to my right, at the slender, erotic newcomer, and was about to make some apologetic remark on my wife's behalf, when Willie suddenly reached out, picked up the glass, and drank a large gulp. Her eyes widened, then she gasped and began coughing.

"That's okay, Willie," Brenda said sympathetically. "You're just not used to it. Sip it. Like this." She demonstrated.

The meal went from normal to strange to bizarre several times. After we were all served, Brenda suggested I "turn Dee's water into wine," and I self consciously complied, waving my hand over the water in Dee's wine glass and reciting my little ritual. This demanded an explanation for Willie's benefit, which Brenda was happy to give. Willie was both fascinated and accepting, telling us that her "auntie" had explained all about the beneficial powers of hypnosis, though Willie had never witnessed them firsthand. Brenda also gave me several little glances and nods in the direction of the wine bottle while Willie wasn't looking. It took me awhile to get the gist of this silent signal. She wanted me to keep her glass filled. I finally, finally began to see her design. Willie was obviously extremely nervous about telling us her history. The alcohol would make it easier for her.

At last, the conversation turned to the boxes we had taken out of the mobile home, which contained, Dee told me, $932,200. I was flabbergasted. The meal was nearing completion by this time, and we all turned to stare at Willie. She had been in the process of drinking yet again from her wine glass, but sensing our gazes, she quickly set it down and looked demurely at her lap. When no one spoke for long seconds, she stole a peek at us. "Is that a lot?" she asked meekly.

"The better part of a million bucks, Willie," I told her flatly, and when she didn't respond, I sighed. "Yes, that's a lot. Where did it come from?"

"Rudolph won it in some sort of contest," she said meekly. "Several, actually. Apparently, that was the reason he made me his slave."

"Slave?" I asked.

"Contest?" Dee and Brenda asked simultaneously. They looked at each other, then back at Willie. "What kind of contest?" Brenda asked.

"I'm not really certain. He had to go away to participate in them, but they seemed to be listed in the daily newspaper. Every morning, before I was allowed to eat my bagel, he would read me a list of strange words. There would be many, sometimes six or more groups, with eight or ten strange phrases in each group. I would lay out my cards after he read a group of words, and they would reveal the winning words in the contest."

"What sort of words?" Dee asked.

Willie sighed. "Show me the money," she said. Dee, Brenda and I exchanged quizzical glances. "Slizzin' Suzie," Willie continued. "Burning Bacon, Harold's King..."

"Horses," Brenda and I said together. I snapped my fingers. "I knew I'd seen that ugly mug somewhere before. There was a picture of him in the paper a month or so ago. He won the trifecta at Hawthorne. More than fifty grand."

"And Willie picked the winners with her cards," Dee said.

"Nonsense!" I retorted. "Coincidence! The guy could just pick the ponies. But he was looking for some sort of 'lucky sign.' Big-time bettors are ALWAYS doing stuff like that. Don't try to read some sort of supernatural thing into it." The three girls fell nervously silent and the conversation died. "Okay, okay," I said conciliatorily. "I'm sorry that I don't believe in your ability with the cards."

"That's alright," Willie said, not looking up. "Many, many people don't believe." She reached out for her glass, but found it empty. I filled it again. "Oh, maybe I shouldn't," she muttered. "I feel... sort of... funny."

"That's okay, Willie," I told her. "You shouldn't worry about feeling a little tipsy. We want you to feel good. But it IS time you told us about yourself. Where are your parents? Are they still alive?"

She took another gulp of wine. "I don't know," she said so softly that Brenda and Dee leaned forward to hear. "I never knew my parents. Raoul told me the story when I was young. He said that he had been sent by Auntie to fetch me before I was born. She had cast the bones and read them, and learned of my impending birth. He found my mother and father and told them that the baby that was coming was of the spirit world, and that they should give it to HIM when it was born. Albinos are not well received in many parts of the world, and they are sometimes put to death upon their births. Once they saw me, they considered me lost, like a stillborn, and they gave me to Raoul, who took me back to Auntie."

"Who's Raoul?" Dee asked, enthralled.

"Auntie had four slaves on the island. Besides me, there was Raoul, who was from the mainland, and Johnathan and Ann, from Barbados. She had others, too: mostly men; but they didn't live on the island. They just showed up from time to time."

"She kept slaves?" I asked. "That's a bit archaic, even for small tropical islands."

"It's not the type of slavery you think, Frederick. I was born to be a slave, but the others joined her voluntarily. Well, no, that's not quite true. They STAYED with her voluntarily." She glanced around at our questioning looks. "Auntie was a succubus."

"Oh, for cryin' out loud!" I exclaimed. Willie fell silent and sat quietly, looking down at her folded hands on her lap. Finally, I relented. "I'm sorry. I won't interrupt anymore. Please continue." But she still remained quiet.

"Are YOU a succubus?" Dee asked.

"Dee!" Brenda chided.

"Well, she might be!" Dee responded defensively. "You can feel it, can't you? Feel her attraction?" She blushed and cast her own eyes bashfully down. "I can!"

"It's okay, Dee," Willie said. "It's a perfectly reasonable question. No, I'm not. Succubae are possessors. They are mistresses. They enthrall and enslave through their sexual favors. But that does not mean they are evil or bad. Auntie was a wonderfully kind mistress, and none of us would have ever dreamed of leaving her. We all loved her. But she greatly attracted any man, and many women, who came into contact with her. It was not her fault, or necessarily her intention. It's just the way she was. We soon found that I had the same sort attraction. But I was never born to be a mistress. I was born to be a slave, and I will always be one. " She took a shaky breath. "I am a siren."

I opened my mouth to make a snide remark, but shut it again. I thought of another, and another. It was a real effort to keep them to myself.

"I know what you are thinking, Frederick. No, I do not sit on rocks and sing at passing ships. In fact, Auntie once told me that I cannot sing well at all, though she never discouraged me from trying. But a siren carries a curse of sexually attracting all those who see her. It has been a terrible burden for me."

"But why," Brenda asked calmly. "I would think that any woman would love the ability to attract men."

"Men want me, but cannot have me," she said sadly. "Auntie told me that once a man loves me, physically, my powers will cease. I will no longer be able to read the cards. She knew this, and shielded me from the outside world, except for those special individuals she had invited to her island."

"What kind of special individuals?" Dee asked. She was hanging on Willie's every word.

"Auntie was considered by many to be a Master Witch, an individual who could train many types of psychically gifted people. Children, mostly. None was ever there very long; a few weeks, at most. But I would play with them, and talk and make friends. That is how I began swimming at night. I cannot stay long in the bright sunshine because of my skin. One of the visiting girls came to Auntie and asked if we could swim in the bay at night, in the moonlight. Auntie threw the bones and saw by what means our lives would end. She informed us that neither of us would die in the water, so we were safe. I started swimming far, far out into the ocean. Oh, it was wonderful!"

"But you've never loved," Brenda said sadly.

"It could never be. I must live by the rules that govern my existence as a slave and reader of the cards. I must never read anything except the cards themselves. That is all I have ever read. And I can never love, nor give a man my body. Everyone knew about this. Rudolph knew. That is why he kept me hidden. He made me cover up in heavy clothes when we had to travel. He never allowed me to talk to anyone, and he became terribly angry if I did. I talked to one of his girls one night, and it was awful."

"His girls?"

"I had a profound affect on him, but he knew that if he took me sexually, I would be unable to read for him anymore. So he would use his money to pay women to come and take my place in his bed. They were always making loud noises in the bedroom... It made it very difficult to sleep, sometimes. I kept wondering what they were doing; what services she was providing that a wife was expected to do. I've never actually seen... Anyway, one night, after a girl had serviced him, she left him and came out and sat beside me on the couch. She told me that my father was a mean and hateful man for having sex while his daughter was right in the next room, and that if I wanted, she would help me run away. I told her that he was my husband; and after a long pause, she told me that he was even more mean and hateful than she'd thought, and that she should take me away. I was trying to explain when Rudolph came out and found us talking. I've never seen him so angry... except last week in the campground."

She was looking at Brenda. "He bought that camping trailer and the fishing poles. I came to realize that he had been a man of the sea, and he greatly missed fishing. He couldn't risk leaving me behind for an extended period, so he was forced to take me along. And when he left to go fishing, he told me not to go out for any reason; but there was no bathroom. I HAD to go to the public restroom, against his express orders. I never intended to talk to you, or anyone else, but I found myself unable to resist. You have a way of... I mean, when I talked to you, I felt... I couldn't help myself when you led me back to your campsite and talked. I LOVED it. But he found us."

"And that's why he hit you," Brenda said.

"Oh, no. He hit me quite frequently. He delighted in hitting me. He hated me. But more than anything else, he wanted me. I could see it in his eyes, every time he looked at me. Oh, how he wanted me! I think that when he had enough money, he was going to take me. It was his plan; I'm certain of it. When my powers were no longer important to him, he would delight in taking them away."

I couldn't stay silent any longer. "I'm sorry, but this is one of the oldest tales in the world. Literally. The saga of the psychic that would lose her powers if she fell in love, I mean. The story's been found in scrolls from ancient Greece. Another version was written in ancient Egypt. Hell, I think it was in one of the James Bond movies! It's been a standard storyline for literally three thousand years, and it's still going strong. But it's just a story, Willie. Don't let it stand in the way of your happiness."