I Was a Dancer - Jacques D'Amboise [4]
“When he arrived, he gasped out his story, and in minutes, a group of townspeople grabbed their guns and followed him back to deal with the stranger. No one had ever seen a black man before. When they reached the clearing where the fight had taken place, there was no one there! The black man had disappeared without a trace, and no one saw him in the days and weeks that followed.
“Oh, but your grandfather was the talk of all the province. ‘Have you heard? David d’Amboise had a fight with the DEVIL!’ ”
LA GROSSE DE CASTONGUEY
“Now, I will tell you a story of a terrible thing that happened to our family:
“The French Canadians in Île Verte have a custom. If anyone asks for shelter, we provide it, as it is many miles between farms. In those days, big families and few beds meant no one had their own room, except maybe the Maman and Papa, but a traveler could always count on shelter. A blanket would be placed on the floor near the hearth or stove, and an extra place set at the dinner table. No one was turned away.
“There was an awful woman named La Grosse de Castonguey. Everyone was afraid of her. She was big—that’s what ‘La Grosse’ means—but how big, nobody knew, because she hid herself under piles of clothes. She wore several dresses, with many petticoats underneath, one on top of the other. Even her mouth was big, and missing teeth. The few she had were big, yellow, and rotten. She never washed, smelled bad, and her greasy hair was tangled. And she stole. She had sewn cloth bags or pouches among her petticoats, and if you weren’t watching her every move with a hawk’s eye, she would pick up anything lying around, slip it through a slit in her outside dress, and drop it into one of those bags. No one wanted her in their home, but if she came around, they didn’t dare refuse. La Grosse was most frightening at night.
“At bedtime, it was the custom for families to kneel together and say the Rosary (five sets of ten Hail Marys each), and during the prayers, La Grosse would screech out her own prayers, her little piggy eyes gleeful when she saw how her words shocked us:
THE FAMILY PRAYER
Hail Mary, full of grace,
The Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou amongst women,
And blessed is the fruit
Of thy womb, Jesus.
CASTONGUEY’S PRAYER
Hail Mary, full of grace,
You had a son and
So did I,
Yours was crucified,
Mine was hung.
“The families had to listen to this, every Hail Mary, through the entire Rosary!
“One morning, my father had taken us into town in the calèche, leaving Maman alone at home with my two sisters, Adèle and Emélia. They were young, maybe seven or eight, and were playing down near the gate in front of our house, not far from the dirt road leading into town. Way down that road, they spotted La Grosse coming, and quickly ran into the house to tell Maman, ‘La Grosse de Castonguey! Elle revient!’ Oh, my mother was frightened. She did not know what to do. ‘Tell her I’m not here, no one is at home!’ she said. ‘If La Grosse wants a place to stay, tell her she has to go to the next farm.’ Maman shut the door and hid.
“La Grosse arrived at the gate, all sweaty and hot. Her belongings were wrapped up in pieces of cloth, knotted into bundles, and she had one in each of her hands. Putting them down in front of the gate, she announced to Adèle and Emélia, ‘Tell your mother I’m staying here tonight.’
“ ‘Maman’s not home,’ Adèle said. (Now, Jacques, they were lying, but sometimes, there is such a thing as a good lie.)
“ ‘I am tired, and I want to stay here,’ La Grosse demanded.
“ ‘Go away, go away! Go to the next house,’ Adèle and Emélia chorused.
“La Grosse seized the gate and shook it. ‘No, it is too far, and it is late. I want to stay here, so let me in!’ Feisty Adèle, she was tiny, but she was brave and mischievous. She started to dance and wiggle her behind, mocking La Grosse, and she made up a song right on the spot, ‘Go away, Castonguey, plein poux, plein poux [lots of lice], take your poux, and go away, Castonguey, Castonguey!’
“Emélia, who was