Under the Oaks, Beside the Bayou

Allies

Monseigneur Aristide entered St. Martinville completely unnoticed. His trapper guides had negotiated the still clogged and high waters that fed Bayou Teche and he had paid them well to drop him off upstream, so he could hike his way in. He wanted to show up quietly to seek out Zen, his oldest and dearest friend. He had news that he wanted to discuss privately, observed by as few as possibleA kind and loyal man, Aristide tended to avoid parochial politics and had only gained his rank by being willing to go to the more remote towns to minister his faith. He had been born and raised in St. Martinville and knew everyone there. News of the deaths of the Auberts and the orphaning of the two children had reached New Orleans and the most stunning part was the protector who had taken the chicks under his wing. Zen, in Aristide's opinion, would be a wonderful father, however there were plans in the works in New Orleans that Zen needed to be made aware of if he continued to sponsor the two children. The priest was going against some very powerful men to enlighten his friend, but he did not give a damn, A blood brother was a blood brother after all. He smiled as he walked. The memory of them, cutting their palms and gripping hands, was a strong one. Swearing brotherhood was a bond he would never lay aside, even for his church. Still dark and before dawn, Aristide walked silently through the sleeping town. He was startled at the damage done by the winds and rain, noting fearfully the total collapse of Grand-mere's lovely home. He prayed she was safe. He found a space to stretch on the far side of the De Brummette Store's wrap-around porch and settled down for a cat nap, out of the eyesight of early risers who might spot him. He wanted to see Zen above all. He missed their everyday comradery and he always felt refreshed, cleansed after time in his presence and in the peace and calm under the Evangeline Oak. The politically charged rat-race that surrounded the archdiocese in New Orleans was exhausting. He closed weary eyes and fell asleep, deeply, and naturally, more at home here than his rectory in the city.A few hours later he heard voices. A boy was laughing, and he heard the deeper chuckles of a man respond."She up-chucked again!" Snickered the boy."Stop laughing ad get me another towel!"The giggles were infectious and non-stop."You little scallywag. Towel now, please.""Oh Monsieur Zen, she is too much.""And so are you. Next burping, it's your turn and I will feed her extra so you really get a good dousing."Another voice interrupted and Aristide recognized it as Grand-mere's."You both are full of nonsense. Here is a clean shirt, Zen. Hand Tresor to me and change out of that messy thing!"Aristide heard a squeal and moved in for a closer peek around the corner, His usually quiet and reserved friend was holding a small boy upside down. Grand-mere was holding a sqirmming infant and grinning widely as she watched the horseplay."Okay, I warned you! Now you'll pay!" He began swinging the laughing boy slowly, side to side."No! No!. If you don't stop, I'll throw up on your shoes! See if you like that!" Aristide's deep baritone voice, smooth as molassas, interrupted. " I think he means it, Zen!" The trio on the porch froze, Zen looking ridiculous as he still dangled the child and slowly turned."Monseigneur Aristide?""Old friend! If you address me as Monseigneur again I will pop you in your nose!!"He grinned at the astonished shopkeeper. "I can't tell you how relieved I am to see the store standing! But it looks as though you have an unexpected full house." Zen lowered Yon to the smooth planks and rushed quickly to embrace the tall priest, eyes warm with brotherhood. Grand-mere watched in delight as she held Tresor. Yon was quietly observant. Monsignor Aristide was a local legend in his hometown and Yon was somewhat in awe of the tall man with gentle brown eyes and a soothing , rich voice; at least until he approached and crouched before the boy on one knee. Aristide placed both hands on Yon's shoulders. "I am honored to meet you,young Aubert. I have heard of your heroic efforts that horrible day. You are a brave and resolute child." He raised a hand and blessed him, then wrapped him in a soothing embrace.Aristide looked up at Zen and smiled. "Can you give us some time. I will be setting up the memorial service for the Auberts and would like to discuss the arrangements with the remaining head of the household." He patted the child's head. "I will also hear your confession as well, if you would like."Yon nodded slowly and his shoulders relaxed. Having the priest listen to his burdens would be an added relief. Grand-mere spoke softly. "A good idea, Aristide. Zen and I will start breakfast. Do you still love biscuits and gravy?""Oh yes, And extras with hot molasses?""Of course, and honey fresh from the hives!"Aristide looked as if he had died and gone to heaven. "Give us an hour, then. Will that be enough time, young Aubert?"Yon nodded. His eyes were sorrowful and full of pain, and he was surprised at how deeply he found the need to confide in the man by his side. He turned to Zen and Grand-mere."I will be fine. This is something I really need to do." Aristide looked at Zen in amazement and Zen simply nodded. "A wise decision, Yon. No need to hurry. Take all the time you need." The boy rushed to hug his protector and then Zen left them to the healing of a sad, small soul.Under the blue sky, to the chirping of birds, Yon settled into the freedom of nature's confessional. He poured out his anguish and anger. He spoke of hours of terror, and the unbearable weight of protecting the newly born Tresor. He wept when recounting the rush of relief as he saw Zen appear before him, and he found he was no longer alone to face impossible decisions in a life without beloved parents. His voice grew strong as he confided the warmth of safety as he had grown closer to the quiet shopkeeper, and the no-nonsense but funny and playful granny that rounded out his life now. He glowed with pride and adoration for his pretty sister, too. When Aristide sensed a kernel of peace within the child, he called out to Zen."Hey, when is the food going to be ready? We are starving out here!"As the rich smell of biscuits, filled the air and the two prepared for an early morning feast, Zen joined them, asking Yon to gather a few more eggs since the parish's worst glutton had showed up to steal all the food this morning. Giggling that infectious laugh, the boy obeyed, running for the hen house. "Is he...?""He seems more at peace. Sometimes, when there is no sins to confess, it is a perfect arena to lay burdens aside and find a pathway to peace of heart, soul and mind. You have a strong and big-hearted child on your hands, my friend.Listen, before he comes back. There is a family in New Orleans who has expressed interest in taking in the children. "Zen froze, his heart in his throat. He turned slowly to face Aristide. "What?""They are wealthy and have a very strong backer. I hastened here to give you some time to plan.""Who supports them?""Who else? Archbishop Roussell.""That bastard?""Oui. Then you do want to adopt them?"Zen looked at his friend and Aristide was shocked at his intensity. "They are my children now and nobody is taking them from me. After breakfast, I will walk to the church with you. I need all the information you can give me. If Roussell wants a fight, he will get one, I will not leave him standing."