Under the Oaks, Beside the Bayou

The First Night

Late the first night, around midnight Zen woke as a floorboard creaked. There was a pause and he could hear it again as a soft foot lifted off the loose board. He waited a moment and rose from his bed, moved silently to the door to the impromptu nursery. The sight he encountered was sweet and innocent.

There, in the faint moonlight, stood Yon. He leaned over the crib and was gazing adoringly at Tresor, his face calm and peaceful, his soft grey eyes shining silver with love. His gentle hand twirled a tiny curl on the small head. Zen had seen very few instances of pure devotion and he felt warmth spread through his own heart as he watched the brother and sister. He could not tear himself away to return to his rest. Who needed it when this was taking place?

Zen De Brummette now understood the most primal of human feelings, the love of a parent for their children. It was raw and instinctive, this need to shelter and protect from all harm and it had invaded him without permission and without a fight. The elation that had the raw edge of pain and unbridled joy. He leaned his tall frame against the door jam, mesmerized, Now he understood his parents and the parents around him. At that moment, Yon looked straight at him and his heart gave a hard thud.

'My son with the courage of a lion. My little flower of a daughter, who still sleeps and who will remember nothing of the terror of her birth. They will be mine and nothing will stand in my way. I will raise them well and they will lack for nothing. I will spend my life teaching them the values of being good, kind, happy, and filled with joy. Harm will not come their way again, not if I can stop it. They will eat well and grow strong. They will go to the best schools, and he will find someone like Matisse, and she will find a good and caring man, and I will bounce grandbabies on my knee. And we will live in harmony.'

His hands shook as he tried to tamp these emotions down a notch. So much had to be done to accomplish it. Yon would have to learn to trust him and to want this relationship as well, and he was certainly not able to even begin to imagine another in the role of the parent in his life. The Auberts had been a very close family and the shock of his parents' death and the responsibility of Tresor was all the boy could deal with at the moment. He just needed the assurance of safety and security, then whatever heaven granted Zen, in the long run, would have to be enough. He walked over and stood at the crib with Yon.

Yon's hands were gripping the top rail. Knuckles white.

"Look at her. She is so small, Monsieur Zen. Have you ever seen anything so beautiful in your life?"

Zen answered honestly. "No. I have not. She is a little miracle, isn't she?"

The boy nodded. He struggled for words. "I must learn very quickly, how to take care of her. Monsieur, Zen. I am a little...well...very scared right now. How do I do that?"

Zen felt tears in his eyes and he knelt before the boy and took his hands. "I am sure we can learn together. We have Grand-mere with us and she wants to stay and teach us. She raised three fine children and she knows an awful lot. You all can stay here with me until the church decides what we should do. I could use the company. It gets lonely by myself sometimes."

"Hey, I could help around the store! You could teach me everything I need to do. Then when I am ready, one day I could get my own shop and take care of my sister!" He sounded hopeful at the sudden inspiration.

Zen smiled. "That sounds fine, Yon. I would like that. A helper is just what this place needs. We can discuss duties and salary at breakfast."

Salary?"

"Helpers get room, board, and salary when they work. Salary is just a fancy word for pay."

"But you are taking us in. I do not need any pay."

"Yes, you do. Every man needs to be paid for his labor. You will learn to save it and build a future with it. Agreed?"

"Oh. If you think that is right..."

"It is. Your sister is your responsibility, yes, but it takes adults to help as well. You will have Grand-Mere Damai and myself to guide you while you figure all this out. Now, do you feels better now?"

"Yes, Sir. It has settled my mind a bit."

"Good. Then you need a goodnight's sleep. I want you to come back to your bed and I will tuck you in."

He pulled the hand-pieced quilt around him. No need to have a fire, the August night was hot and humid enough. He looked at the mantle clock and he heard the door across the hall open.

Grand-Mere walked over to the bedroom and motioned to him. "It is time to warm some milk for Tresor. She will wake soon."

"What?"

"Babies wake up several times a night. Better get your robe and slippers, my boy, and join me. This something you will get used to."

He did as he was told and and he followed her down to watch as she filled a bottle to a third full. And sat it in a pan of water to heat on the wood stove. As soon as it warmed, she wrapped it in a small receiving blanket and they sat in his room. She rocked in a rocking chair and he sat on the bed as they waited for Tresor to awaken.

"That was quite a little talk with Yon just now."

"Mhm..."

"You did well. But you already want to keep them, do you not?"

His look said everything.

She continued. "It will be a tough battle. The authorities look for two parent families mostly. But you will find a way. With the amount of damage here and elsewhere, you have time to build a relationship with them, and I will stay as long as needed. I am no fool. My house is unsavagable and a woman's presence here would be plus on your side. And being around two littles again will be so much fun. They will keep me young."

"I would love that, Grand-Mere, but only under one condition."

"And what is that?"

"There must be cookies. Many, many cookies. The cookies jar must be filled, at all times."

"Humpf! Little slavedriver! Alright. Your demands are harsh, but I agree!"

They grinned at each other. They heard the first mewlings from the crib. The baby felt dry and they moved into his room and she taught him to support the neck of the infant in the crook of his arm, how to test the milk to ensure that themperature was the same as his arm and to rub a drop on the rosebud mouth. The tiny lips openned wide to accept the nipple and the babe began to pull, drinking rapidly. Grandmere stopped him andhe looked quizzingly at her. After about a third we need to burp her. Support her neck with the left hand and her bottom with your right and bring her head to rest on your shoulder. Then pat the middle of her back, until she burps a few times. Pat between her shoulder blades , then massage in circles a few times...Pat-pat-pat...rub-rub-rub. Pat-pat-pat...rub-rub-rub." As he began to position her, Grand-mere covered his shoulder with the receiving blanket. Zen looked at her again. "In case she spits up."

"Spits up?" He asked in horror.

"Milk curdles, sometime, and it comes back up. Mon Dieu, a grown man who has slaughtered chickens, cows, deer, getting weak at the knees at the thought of an infant spitting up." They heard a giggle from the other bed.

Grandmere asked sharply, "Yon? Are you awake?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"How long?"

"Since she woke up and you came to get her."

"Well, you better come over here and watch Zen feed her. You will need to do this too!"

Zen spoke up. "She has promised to pay us in cookies to do this."

Just then a surprising large burp erupted from the delicate flower on his shoulder and all three burst into laughter. The first after a long and very hard day.

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