Lenore: A Southern Gothic Re-Telling of Beauty and the Beast

Lenore A Southern Gothic Tale Inspired by Beauty and the Beast

Louisiana, 1936

It was hot. A pressure system was closing in, tossing the trees, feeling like thunder. That little, narrow, rutted back road just went on and on into the twilight. No street lights. No other cars. A warm breeze blew in the open window carrying sounds of crickets and the sweet smell of jasmine. Once night fell, the only illumination in the world would be his lonely headlights shining on the road, and not even that if the gas ran out.

Wind swept up through a fringe of trees, blowing the topmost branches apart to reveal a roof of gables and chimneys silhouetted against the violet sky. Jake slowed to a crawl until his headlights caught a gravel driveway going into the woods.

The driveway sloped up to park-like grounds guarded by live oaks and an ivy-covered wall. Jake parked, looked through the bars of the wrought iron gate, and saw a flagstone walkway, an overgrown hedge, and a rose garden. He turned off the engine, wincing as it shuddered and died. He gripped the steering wheel for a moment, and prayed for his old car. He looked in the rearview mirror, smoothed back his dark, wavy hair. His eyes looked tired. He squeezed them shut, opened them wide, smiled. Then he stepped out onto the drive.

The wind was cooling things off, lashing the trees out of the way of the moon that was just coming up, full and bright. When he pushed the gate open, its hinges groaned. To his left was a large stone mansion. Ivy climbed the walls. Paint was peeling off the trim. The front of the house was taken up by a long porch of Doric pillars holding up a flat roof that provided a veranda for the rooms on the second floor. The windows were dark; the door closed deep under the porch roof like nobody was home.

Jake walked down the weedy flagstones into the rose garden, looking up at the house from the tail of his eye. It was getting dark but the moon was bright enough to see by. The garden had been left to grow wild, but the rose bushes were blooming. He found a particularly fragrant wallpaper-colored rose. It reminded him of his girlfriend back home, the one who jilted him because he couldn't find a job. He broke the rose branch as if he could give it to her, and was suddenly startled by a loud banging sound coming from the top of the house.

Something bright and fine fluttered up in the wind and blew towards the balustrade of the veranda. A tall, slender woman came forth, wearing a veil that covered her from head to toe; a fine, sheer veil, light enough to let the moonlight shine through it and cling to the front of her body and face as it was blown back by the wind. As she turned towards the moon, Jake could see the outline of her profile. It was delicate, precise. She seemed to be scanning the garden with her veiled over eyes. He was about to shout up to her when he saw a flash at her side that looked like a gun.

Jake stepped back into the shadow of a myrtle tree, crushing the rose to his heart. The woman floated in his direction and looked down. She stood still for a moment. The wind blew the veil up around her in the moonlight, then lifted it behind her like wings as she turned to go back inside.

Jake stuck the rose into his belt and considered the potential for employment. The house certainly needed a lot of work. He went up the stairs, noticing how worn and scuffed they looked. The white pillars wore a patina of moss. He crossed the porch to one of the tall windows and looked in. The house was dark, but candlelight glimmered in a far room. Jake went to the door, picked up the lion's head doorknocker and banged it down three times. Nobody answered. He rang the doorbell. Still no answer. On trying the door, he found it open, so he went in.

A cat sprang back, and then reared up, splaying its claws. White and fluffy as a cloud the cat was, with eyes as bright as fireflies, and wearing a collar of silver sequins. Jake walked forward, and the cat jumped back, growling, and then stormed away up a flight of stairs. Jake broke out in a sweat.