IT ALWAYS HAPPENS FOR A REASON
She always liked going to the plantation �?Haiti held a special place in her heart. Mother took her there in her youth, where holidays were filled with exciting experiences.
The nanny she had was a mixture of French and Haitian, who believed in many things, but the culture was inherent in the way she handled situations.
Voodoo was never mentioned, but it was always in the back ground �?waiting to surface when encountering events.
She would ask about signs, questioning her nanny. The answer was always the same, “it always happens for a reason.�?/FONT>
The summer she turned 19, Sara became aware of the pull of the moment. She had graduated, and daddy had sent her there for a respite �?while she decided on what she wanted to do about college.
Back in the States they celebrated Halloween, some followed it religiously.
She felt something in the air, a pull of sorts, feeling restless �?waiting.
Her trust in nanny encouraged her to ask about social events and festivities. Was there going to be something going on, a ball, and a masquerade dance? Nanny nodded yes; there would be one at the yacht club.
Phil was one of her good buddies, he always knew the source. She would call him and find out about the festivities.
No sooner had she thought of it, when the phone rang.
Hello there. Want go to a dance �?he knew a source at the yacht club and he would take her if she wished.
Sure, that would be great, any suggestions?
Not really, do what the natives do, he kidded. They have a place you can go to rent costumes and masks, you have to see it, they are outstanding.
She asked nanny about the place. A strange look came to her face. Be careful of what you choose miss…there are some with curses within.
Sara shrugged, giggled and thought it funny. Nan was always so solemn, superstitious. Ok, she would beware…but accepted it with a grain of salt.
She looked up the store the next day. It was a small place, stuffed with antiquity and beautiful masks. A gown she saw, caught her fancy…oh that would be great. I will try it on. The shop keeper was a strange lady, dark and brooding, but friendly enough.
Would you like to try it on?
Oh yes, please, help me find a mask to go with it. While she was in the fitting room, the woman went off to find a suitable mask.
I would like a wig too, that would make me anonymous. How grand, I will fool my friends, take on a totally different façade…she giggled as she put on the dress, and it fit perfectly…wonderful she thought.
The lady brought a long black wig, and a mask that was totally unique. No one would recognize me in this�?
The day of the ball arrived…her invitation was sent to her earlier that day…it was fun being anonymous. Being an heiress was no fun, people doted on her, made her feel good, but it was not genuine. She knew she had a beautiful body, young, vibrant, and now the outfit. This was going to be a special day. She was excited�?/FONT>
On the night of the ball, the yacht was filled with gaudy lights and people mingled, laughed, drank, ate. enjoying the moment, excitement in the air, electrical.
She was having so much fun in disguise, not noticing a man in the background who followed her. He was tall, dark and handsome…she finally noticed him. He didn’t speak a word, but she knew he was drawn to her. She mixed around, drank way too much, hardly eating anything.
You should have some of this miss, it will sustain you.
She looked up and noticed the plate he handed her. It had a few tidbits. She gingerly picked up something, ate it and felt wonderful. What is it, she asked, he smiled, and said ambrosia from the gods. They both laughed…oh yes, we are all gods and goddesses for the day, by midnight we’ll all turn into pumpkins.
He asked her to dance, it was wonderful. They fit just right, they were meant for each other.
When the clock stuck midnight, he asked if she would remove her mask…and she in turn asked him to do the same�?/FONT>
She discovered to her horror, that she couldn’t take her mask off, nor he his, they were bound in time…she was Persephone and he was Hades.
It all came back to her; on what Nan would say, “it always happens for a reason!�?/FONT>
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