Careful What You Pray For Part II
Sierra contemplated for almost a week before she made up her mind to pay Madame Bastille a visit. Sierra rolled over in bed to find Zeke laying next to her; still wearing the clothes he had on yesterday. What bothered Sierra more than Zeke not coming home, was him coming home drunk, smelling like another woman's perfume and lipstick smeared on his lips. It seem like Zeke didn't have a care in the world about how his actions was destroying Sierra.
Sierra layed in bed a bit longer. She felt her anger growing with each inhale of Zeke's night permeating from his body. Sierra made up her mind right then.
"That's it. I's had more than 'nuff. See if Madame Bastille can fix ya right." Sierra thought to herself.
Just then Zeke rolled over to put his arm around Sierra and pulled her close; as if she was the only woman in his world. The smell of last night's bourbon binge and cheap perfume radiating from Zeke was overwhelming. Sierra was starting to feel nauseated. As Sierra was wiggling to get from Zeke's embrace, she felt his hand move from around her waist to cup her breast. Zeke's strong hand began squeezing and massaging Sierra's chest. Sierra could feel Zeke inching closer, or perhaps he was pulling her closer. Sierra could also feel Zeke's manhood growing rigid. Zeke began kissing Sierra on her neck and grinding at her ample backside. Though Zeke was still hungover, he noticed Sierra wasn't responding to his touch. Actually it was the opposite reaction Sierra usually gave. Instead of relaxing into Zeke's embrace and arching her back. He felt Sierra tensing up and trying to get away from him. Zeke was terribly confused.
"What's wit chu? Cant cha see I's tryna git some luvin'?"
"Ya didn't git 'nuff last night?"
"Whatcha talkin' bout? I ain't messin' wit nobody. I done told ya, you's the only one I loves."
"She may be a nobody and you might not love her, but cha shonuff keepin' regular company wit that heffa." With that statement, Sierra got out of bed; leaving Zeke with a dumbfounded looked on his face.
Sierra stomped off to the kitchen to make coffee and to get breakfast started. Not long after Sierra's exit, Zeke appeared in the doorway. He slowly made his way to the kitchen table. Zeke sat silently with his head down, rubbing the back of his head; like he was soothing a pain in his neck. Sierra placed a cup of coffee in front of Zeke without saying a word. The tension was extremely thick and uncomfortable. The silence was deafening. Zeke couldn't handle it.
"Baby. I don't know where..."
"Stop, Zeke! Just stop." Sierra interrupted Zeke from delivering his sad excuses.
"I's don't know what ta do wit cha. Ain't I a gud woman? A gud wife to ya? I loves you best I know how... but chu keep on hurtin' me. Why Zeke? Why?"
Zeke couldn't believe his eyes or ears. This was a side of Sierra, Zeke had never seen or heard before. He was used to Sierra being quiet and understanding. Which was just the way Zeke liked it, cause it gave him the leeway to do as he pleased. This was a change in Sierra that Zeke was not going to put up with. What was next? Sierra coming down to the juke joint?
"Now listen here! You ain't gonna be talkin' to me like ya done gone crazy! I's the man of this here house and ain't no woman gone talk to me, like I's some chile! You una'stand me?!" Zeke shouting with his chest all puffed out.
Sierra simply turned her back on Zeke and walked out the kitchen; leaving the breakfast she was cooking on the stove.
Zeke still confused of the change in Sierra continued to shout behind her.
"Gal! Git cho self in here and fix my plate!"
With smoke rising from the skillet Zeke could start to smell the food burning.
"Sierra! Ya hear me talkin' to ya?!"
Zeke got up from his chair and grabbed the cast iron skillet, burning his hand and dropping the food onto the floor.
"Goddamit!!!"
"Sierra!!!"
Next thing Zeke heard was the slam of the front door. Zeke ran onto the front porch to find Sierra stomping down the road.
"Sierra!! Gal, git back here!!"
Sierra kept on stomping, without even a single glance back.
Gale was looking out of her window and smiled slyly at the display she witnessed.
"Hmmf, she finally done left that no gud dog." Then Gale wondered.
"Why she ain't come over here? Where on earth could she be goin'?"
Not long after storming out of the house, Sierra found herself at an entrance into the bayou. Ignoring the doubt growing in the pit of her stomach, Sierra decided this was the only solution in getting what she wanted; a do right husband. Sierra went into the bayou, slowly treading on the rickety, rotting trail leading to an ominous looking shack. Sierra raised her hand to knock on the door. Just then a voice from inside, invited her to come in. Sierra opened the door and stood still for a moment. That's when Sierra noticed some markings carved along the door frame and a line of red dust at the foot of the door.
"Entre' mammzel."
Sierra still fingering the cravings along the door frame, failed to hear the old woman.
"Well, git on in here, 'less ya done changed ya mind bout why ya come rappin' at ma dough."
"Ya know why I's come to see ya?"
"Well I's know it ain't cause ya wanna say 'ello. I's don't git no visits of that kinda nature."
"Why don't cha cop a squat and tells me whatcha want from me."
"What's that red dust at cha doe?"
"It's ta keep me safe."
Sierra was starting to feel her nerves bounce around. She began to fidget in her seat, like a child fighting the need to use the bathroom.
"I ain't never did nothin' like tis before... so I don't know what ta..."
"Spit it out mammzel!!" Madame Bastille was growing impatient with Sierra.
"I needs my husband to do right!!"
Sierra gasped and covered her mouth. Shocked at how loud she managed to shout.
Madame Bastille just looked at Sierra, nodding her head.
"Gone mammzel, lay ya heartache on da table."
While Sierra spouted out her woes of her husband, Madame Bastille went moving about the room gathering supplies. Madame Bastille stopped Sierra's rantings of Zeke.
"Mammzel, whatcha lookin' fo is a love bindin'. Now, befoe I's give ya whatcha need... you best be sho he's meant fo ya. Cause if he ain't... well... it ain't gonna turn out gud. So is ya sure he da one fo ya?"
Sierra didn't hesitate to answer.
"I's sho! As I stand and breathe, I's sho!"
Sierra layed in bed a bit longer. She felt her anger growing with each inhale of Zeke's night permeating from his body. Sierra made up her mind right then.
"That's it. I's had more than 'nuff. See if Madame Bastille can fix ya right." Sierra thought to herself.
Just then Zeke rolled over to put his arm around Sierra and pulled her close; as if she was the only woman in his world. The smell of last night's bourbon binge and cheap perfume radiating from Zeke was overwhelming. Sierra was starting to feel nauseated. As Sierra was wiggling to get from Zeke's embrace, she felt his hand move from around her waist to cup her breast. Zeke's strong hand began squeezing and massaging Sierra's chest. Sierra could feel Zeke inching closer, or perhaps he was pulling her closer. Sierra could also feel Zeke's manhood growing rigid. Zeke began kissing Sierra on her neck and grinding at her ample backside. Though Zeke was still hungover, he noticed Sierra wasn't responding to his touch. Actually it was the opposite reaction Sierra usually gave. Instead of relaxing into Zeke's embrace and arching her back. He felt Sierra tensing up and trying to get away from him. Zeke was terribly confused.
"What's wit chu? Cant cha see I's tryna git some luvin'?"
"Ya didn't git 'nuff last night?"
"Whatcha talkin' bout? I ain't messin' wit nobody. I done told ya, you's the only one I loves."
"She may be a nobody and you might not love her, but cha shonuff keepin' regular company wit that heffa." With that statement, Sierra got out of bed; leaving Zeke with a dumbfounded looked on his face.
Sierra stomped off to the kitchen to make coffee and to get breakfast started. Not long after Sierra's exit, Zeke appeared in the doorway. He slowly made his way to the kitchen table. Zeke sat silently with his head down, rubbing the back of his head; like he was soothing a pain in his neck. Sierra placed a cup of coffee in front of Zeke without saying a word. The tension was extremely thick and uncomfortable. The silence was deafening. Zeke couldn't handle it.
"Baby. I don't know where..."
"Stop, Zeke! Just stop." Sierra interrupted Zeke from delivering his sad excuses.
"I's don't know what ta do wit cha. Ain't I a gud woman? A gud wife to ya? I loves you best I know how... but chu keep on hurtin' me. Why Zeke? Why?"
Zeke couldn't believe his eyes or ears. This was a side of Sierra, Zeke had never seen or heard before. He was used to Sierra being quiet and understanding. Which was just the way Zeke liked it, cause it gave him the leeway to do as he pleased. This was a change in Sierra that Zeke was not going to put up with. What was next? Sierra coming down to the juke joint?
"Now listen here! You ain't gonna be talkin' to me like ya done gone crazy! I's the man of this here house and ain't no woman gone talk to me, like I's some chile! You una'stand me?!" Zeke shouting with his chest all puffed out.
Sierra simply turned her back on Zeke and walked out the kitchen; leaving the breakfast she was cooking on the stove.
Zeke still confused of the change in Sierra continued to shout behind her.
"Gal! Git cho self in here and fix my plate!"
With smoke rising from the skillet Zeke could start to smell the food burning.
"Sierra! Ya hear me talkin' to ya?!"
Zeke got up from his chair and grabbed the cast iron skillet, burning his hand and dropping the food onto the floor.
"Goddamit!!!"
"Sierra!!!"
Next thing Zeke heard was the slam of the front door. Zeke ran onto the front porch to find Sierra stomping down the road.
"Sierra!! Gal, git back here!!"
Sierra kept on stomping, without even a single glance back.
Gale was looking out of her window and smiled slyly at the display she witnessed.
"Hmmf, she finally done left that no gud dog." Then Gale wondered.
"Why she ain't come over here? Where on earth could she be goin'?"
Not long after storming out of the house, Sierra found herself at an entrance into the bayou. Ignoring the doubt growing in the pit of her stomach, Sierra decided this was the only solution in getting what she wanted; a do right husband. Sierra went into the bayou, slowly treading on the rickety, rotting trail leading to an ominous looking shack. Sierra raised her hand to knock on the door. Just then a voice from inside, invited her to come in. Sierra opened the door and stood still for a moment. That's when Sierra noticed some markings carved along the door frame and a line of red dust at the foot of the door.
"Entre' mammzel."
Sierra still fingering the cravings along the door frame, failed to hear the old woman.
"Well, git on in here, 'less ya done changed ya mind bout why ya come rappin' at ma dough."
"Ya know why I's come to see ya?"
"Well I's know it ain't cause ya wanna say 'ello. I's don't git no visits of that kinda nature."
"Why don't cha cop a squat and tells me whatcha want from me."
"What's that red dust at cha doe?"
"It's ta keep me safe."
Sierra was starting to feel her nerves bounce around. She began to fidget in her seat, like a child fighting the need to use the bathroom.
"I ain't never did nothin' like tis before... so I don't know what ta..."
"Spit it out mammzel!!" Madame Bastille was growing impatient with Sierra.
"I needs my husband to do right!!"
Sierra gasped and covered her mouth. Shocked at how loud she managed to shout.
Madame Bastille just looked at Sierra, nodding her head.
"Gone mammzel, lay ya heartache on da table."
While Sierra spouted out her woes of her husband, Madame Bastille went moving about the room gathering supplies. Madame Bastille stopped Sierra's rantings of Zeke.
"Mammzel, whatcha lookin' fo is a love bindin'. Now, befoe I's give ya whatcha need... you best be sho he's meant fo ya. Cause if he ain't... well... it ain't gonna turn out gud. So is ya sure he da one fo ya?"
Sierra didn't hesitate to answer.
"I's sho! As I stand and breathe, I's sho!"
To be continued...