Chapter Four
The Hudson Estate was a large traditional southern house with sprawling verandas, large windows, and must have looked quite good in it’s prime. Not most of the house was decadent, covered by ivy here and there as if a lazy gardener was about slacking off instead of doing their job. Upon examining the outside of the house, the Quagmire triplets felt the overwhelming aura of sadness in the air. A chilly wind rushed past them, making gooseprickles appear on their exposed areas of skin. The man who was leading them, René Chenier, was a large, boisterous cajun man. ‘Ah’ve got ta say, none visits dese parts. Hard to get here ‘cause of the bayou.’ René then took a good look at Isadora, and it did not pass unnoticed to any of them.
‘We had no other choice.’ Quigley told the man more harshly than he would have normally. Something about René was slightly off. His easy-going cajun talk was something, but there was just
something about him. ‘If you could announce us to Mr. Hudson we’d be thankful.’
‘Mayhap you’d lak ta spend da nite, you?’ René asked. ‘Ms. Hudson will be thrilled ta ‘ave guests ‘ere fer a change.’ The mention of a Ms. Hudson sparked interest. ‘There’s a Ms. Hudson?’ Duncan asked. For some reason, they expected Jeremiah to be a loner. One doesn’t live so far into the swamp for liking contact with people, but then again, some men – not all of them – need a woman at their sides, no matter how deep into a swamp they live. They did not know to expect of this distant relative of theirs, and so they expected nothing.
‘Ah, yes. She’ll lak ta have guests. Mr. Hudson dun go out much.’ René opened the door, and the Quagmires entered the main hall. It was lit by a chandelier with several candles, and to their dark surprise, a stuffed alligator was hung upon the wall as decoration. ‘Shot it ‘imself, Mr. Hudson. He was a good huntah back in da day. Sit down, ah’ll go get Mr. Hudson and Ms. Hudson.’ René pointed to a neighboring room and disappeared upstairs.
The Quagmires entered what seemed to be the living room of the house, and found two people sitting by the center table doing something very strange. They were both girls of aproximately the same age. One was blonde and wore a long light brown dress. The other girl was dark-skinned, her hair tied at the back of her head, and wore a linen blouse and a dark, long skirt. The two girl were remarkably pretty in their own ways, and they had their index fingers on top of a glass, and the glass was on top of what they realized was an ouija board.
An ouija board is a plaque of wood contaning the alphabet and sometimes, the words
yes,
no, and sometimes,
goodbye, used by the living to contact the departed. Duncan recognized the ouija board as he had done an article on supernatural trinkets as an assigment in the past, and whispered to Quigley and Isadora the nature of said object. His whisper did not pass unnoticed by the two girls, whose eyes went to the Quagmires, standing at the entrance.
‘We’re playing ouija board. Want to join in?’ The blonde girl asked. ‘We’re not playin’, Caroline. You said you wanted to see if your mama was still around. That’s not playin’.’ Caroline, the blonde girl, looked embarrassed. ‘Sorry, Tiana.’ The other girl, Tiana, asked in a heightened voice. ‘Are you there, Ms. Hudson? Can you hear us from beyond?’ There was nothing but silence, but the glass moved. ‘Oh!’ Caroline whimpered, as the glass moved towards the word
yes. Bewitched, Isadora, Duncan and Quigley Quagmire approached both girls. The glass rested on the word
yes. ‘Did you both push the glass?’ Isadora asked, still incredulous. ‘No. We merely put our fingers on the glass. The spirits move it.’ Tiana said.
‘That I don’t believe.’ Quigley sat on an armchair, crossing his arms behind his head and smiling. ‘Ah, a non-believer.’ Tiana said. ‘Spend a few nights around Bayou Lafayette, you’ll be believing in lots of things soon.’ Tiana smiled. ‘Who are the three of you, again?’ Caroline asked, without ever removing her finger from atop the glass. ‘I’m Isadora.’ Isadora said, sitting on the sofa behind Caroline, while Duncan sat on a chair besides Tiana. ‘I’m Duncan and he’s Quigley. I’m the better looking one.’ Quigley snorted. ‘Hardly.’ Caroline and Tiana chuckled. ‘What are you both doing there?’ Isadora asked. ‘Communicating with spirits. Her mother’s spirit.’ Tiana explained. ‘Your mother? I’m sorry, I must have misunderstood. I thought there was a Ms. Hudson.’
‘There is.’ Caroline said. ‘She’s just not my mama, is all.’ Caroline then looked at Tiana. ‘Let’s ask her if she has any advice for me, Tiana.’ Tiana nodded. ‘Ms. Hudson. Have you any advice for your daughter, Caroline?’ Tiana stared at the space above them, as if looking for the ghost of the deceased Ms. Hudson.
For a moment, nothing happened. But then, to the Quagmire’s amazement, the glass began to move again. This time, the alphabet. From letter to letter, the glass went, to compose a message. ‘D…A…N…G…E…R…’ Tiana recited as the glass moved across the board.
‘G…E…T…A…W…A…Y…Y…O…U…M…U…S…T…R…U…N…W...H…I…L…E…T…H…E…R…E…I…S…S…T…I…L…L…T…I…M…E…’
‘
Danger. Get away. You must run while there is still time..’ Tiana spoke the words, and both she and Caroline looked aprehensively into each other’s eyes. ‘Tiana…Is this real? Is she really speaking to me from beyond?’ Caroline looked frightened. The Quagmires were uneasy. To arrive at a place and to hear such words…They weren’t total skeptics, but it was not the way they expected to start their visit at the Hudson Estate. ‘She is, Caroline. Your mother is tellin’ you to run. And I think you and I both know why.’ Caroline looked on the verge of crying, putting both hands over her mouth. Isadora put a hand on her shoulder as if to comfort her, when René Chenier announced Mr. and Ms. Hudson. ‘Ey, here they are. Mr. and Ms. Hudson.’
The first thing that they noticed about Mr. and Ms. Hudson is how absolutely different they looked. Mr. Jeremiah Hudson was a large, stocky, strong man with muscular arms, a coarse dark beard, flushed cheeks, bags under his eyes as if he needed sleep. He was also not dressed very properly. His clothes were in disarray, and in his hand a bottle of liquor, which he drank from. The sweat glistened on his brow as he lifted back his head to chug down the drink, making a lock of his slick hair fall out of place. He looked like a man would after a heavy drinking session. Which was what he was, indeed. Ms. Hudson on the other hand was flawless in an expensive red dress which accentuated her thin waist and wide hips. Her hair was dark, silky and done in a very feminine, distinguished hairdo. Her eyebrows were perfect, arched over two dark eyes with very long eyelashes and her
smile…The Quagmires had never seen more perfect teeth, framed by lips decorated with a dark red lipstick. ‘Welcome to our home! It is so rare for us to get guests here!’ Ms. Hudson cheerfully spoke, thrilled to see the Quagmires. ‘Pleasure to meet you all. I am Ms. Catherine Hudson. This is my dear husband, Jeremiah. Say hello to them, darling.’
Instead of saying hello, Jeremiah Hudson let out a thunderous burp. There was a very disconcerting moment of silence following it, but then he spoke with the pasty voice of a drunkard. ‘Vwelcome…To my house!’ And then he saw the ouija board, with Tiana and Caroline with their fingers on the glass. ‘What is this, child?!’ Jeremiah looked truly angry. He bolted towards the centertable and with a kick – Tiana and Caroline both removed their hands in time, thankfully – sent the ouija board flying across the room, with the distinct sound of broken glass as the later had also been sent flying. ‘Haven’t I told you never to pull this stunt again?!’ He shouted angrily at Caroline, who began to cry silently, clutching onto a terrified Isadora’s leg. ‘I told you I never wanted you messing with that board again! And you!’ He turned to Tiana, who unlike Caroline, was all defiance with her glare towards the drunk man. ‘I told you to stop filling her head with your woodswitch nonsense!Next you’ll have her poking dolls with needles and singing those chants and making potions! If I find you doing this again you’re out of here! I took you in as thanks to your mother, the poor woman, but I’ll not have this under my roof again!’
Jeremiah then chugged down more liquor, wiping his mouth with his undone sleeve. ‘Sorry ‘bout that.’ He told the others in the room. ‘If you excuse me…’ Then he bolted out of the room, disappearing from their sight. ‘I hope you’ll excuse my husband, he’s a bit…indisposed at the moment. Excuse me.’ Catherine Hudson wore her smile like a mask; something about the way she held up the skirt of her dress to eagerly climb the stairs and the way she glared upwards as she climbed just gave away the fact that she was concealing a lot of anger. ‘Is
that Jeremiah Hudson?’ Quigley asked.
‘That be him, yes.’ René Chenier replied. ‘He seems a bit…’Duncan never quite finished his sentence as Tiana did it for him. ‘Drunk? Yes. He’s drunk as a skunk, he is. Come on, Caroline, get up. You’ll wrinkle that dress.’ Tiana helped Caroline up. The girl was blushed visibly and crying at the same time, but never quite lost her composure. ‘I-I’m sorry you had to see that. My papa hasn’t been the same since…Well…’ Then Caroline sat on the sofa, defeated. Isadora comforted her, eyeing her brothers. The Quagmires shared glances. They did not expect what they had just witnessed. For a relative, they had imagined Jeremiah Hudson to be at least a little like their father, who was long gone, and who had been so kind and understanding. They found Jeremiah Hudson despicable.
‘Ah better go help Ms. Hudson put Mr. Hudson to bed. Be seein ya, you!’ René started up the stairs, while the Quagmires stayed down in the living room comforting Caroline and watch as Tiana poked the embers in the fireplace with a metal poker. ‘Haha.’ Isadora laughed. That net her strange looks from everyone in the room. ‘Oh, I didn’t mean to be impolite. It’s just that that fire poker reminded me of some friends. Once when we were trapped, they went to get hot fire pokers to get us out.’ Quigley and Duncan smiled. They would never forget Violet Baudelaire’s attempt to save them when they were trapt at the bottom of a very dark elevator shaft, even if Count Olaf, at the time disguised as an auctioneer named Gunther, came and whisked them away before Violet could save them.
‘Must be nice to have friends like that. I only have Tiana.’ Caroline said. The Quagmires watched as Tiana took out her anger on the embers, poking them until the fire was burning bright. She was clearly frustrated, but not at what just had happened, as he remained still like a statue while Jeremiah shouted at her. She was frustrated at something else. ‘Why did he call you a woodswitch?’ Quigley asked, curious. Tiana lifted her head and turned around, still holding the poker – it’s tip was red hot – and she looked at Caroline, then Quigley. ‘My old nana was a woodswitch, as they called her. She made potions, cast spells and the like. But it only worked for those who really believed in it. My mama was a maid here at the Hudsons, so I grew up here, and when my mama died of a fever, Caroline’s father took me in. Although there are times when I wish he’d thrown me out.’
‘Don’t say that, Tia.’ Caroline got up and took Tiana’s hand, and then hugged her. Tiana dropped the metal poker, which sizzled in contact with the wooden floor. ‘Of course. Sorry.’ Tiana said. ‘Is he like that all the time?’ Duncan asked. ‘No, no…’ Caroline was the one to answer. ‘He has good and bad days. Most of them are bad. Every once in a while he swears to me he’ll stop drinking and throw his liquor in the swamp, only to disappear the next day, and then René finding him waist deep in the bog looking for the bottles.’
‘We’re sorry to hear that, Caroline.’ Isadora said, politely. ‘It’s okay. He’s a good dad when the liquor isn’t in him.’ Caroline said, letting go of Tiana’s hand. ‘I’m going to bed.’ She walked towards the exit of the room. ‘Whatever business you have with my dad, it’s best if you spend the night rather than to go out there in the dark. All kinds of wild animals in the woods.’ Caroline disappeared, climbing the stairs.
‘You three want sweet tea?’ Tiana offered. ‘We’d actually love some.’ Isadora said with a smile. The Quagmires followed the girl into the hallway, and then into the kitchen. There was a nice smell of food in the air, as a pot was boiling on the stove. The Quagmires’ stomachs rumbled so loudly that Tiana laughed. ‘Wow. You three must be starvin’! Sit down, I’ll fix you supper. Ain’t nothin’ better than a hot bowl o’ gumbo, I tell ya.’
The Quagmires ate the hot stew and practically
begged Tiana for more. The girl smiled brightly and refilled their bowls with generosity. ‘Damn, I love it when people ask for more.’ She said. ‘Aren’t
you going to eat?’ Duncan asked. ‘I already had supper earlier. Now I gotta ask, what brings you white kids to Bayou Lafayette of all places? You sure as hell ain’t from around these parts, I can tell.’
The Quagmires were not sure of what to tell Tiana. She seemed trustworthy, specially after that heavenly food they were being given – the crabs’ energy had been well spent guiding that boat through the bog and they were starving – but they had the good sense to leave out any referene to coming out of the submarine that the townspeople had sort of adopted as a touristic spot. A girl as spiritual as Tiana would surely not take it very well. So, they came up with an entirely new story, leaving out their time under stasis, and everything that happened to them two years ago. ‘Our father died in a fire, and it was in his last will and testament for us to come meet his cousin, Mr. Hudson.’ Quigley lied. ‘Cousin, is it? You’re related to Jeremiah Hudson?’ Tiana was surprised. ‘Strange. He never said nothin’ of cousins. Not to me, or around me, at least. More gumbo?’ The Quagmires were stuffed, and declined. ‘You weakling white kids. My cousins never go to bed without at leats four bowls of this in their bellies.’
‘It was very good. You’re an excellent cook, Tiana.’ Duncan said.
‘Well. You should best get out of them shoddy clothes. I’ll show you three to your guest rooms, I’ll fetch you some hot water for your bath. We don’t get hot running water so far into the Bayou.’ The triplets followed Tiana to the innards of the house, and arrived a large room with two beds, one large enough for two and another, for one. ‘There’s the can.’ Tiana pointed to a door across the room. ‘I guess the two of you boys can share a bed. You sleep over here.’ Tiana said to Isadora, and unfolded a screen, placing it between the two beds. ‘If you need anything, don’t be afraid to call me.’
‘Thank you, Tiana.’ Isadora said. ‘No bother. Now catch some sleep, the three of you.’ Tiana closed the door behind her, and the Quagmire triplets were left alone in their room. ‘Did any of you get the feeling Tiana was frustrated at something else when she was poking those embers?’ Duncan asked. ‘Yeah. She kept quiet the whole time Jeremiah was telling her off.’ Quigley agreed. ‘I wonder what’s up with that.’
The Quagmires were highly disappointed with Jeremiah Hudson. Whoever he was, he was
not the man they expected. The man who was suppose to help them find their way to Dr. Nebra, Nemo, Cindry and the Baudelaires. There was something weird going on in that house, and the Quagmires had a mind to find out just exactly what that thing was.