A small town situated near Bayou Camitte and Cane River, Cloutierville is said to have the biggest and foremost community of caulbearers in the country. The story passed down between families is that French sailors would buy pieces of caul from lovers or street vendors and wear them around their necks before embarking on the long journey to the West African coastlines and then to the Atlantic Ocean en route to the Americas. Unbeknownst to these sailors, some of the enslaved persons chained in the belly of those ships possessed spiritual and magical talents. When they landed in New Orleans, their relations with one another and with the Choctaw Indians produced caulbearing Creole families, who married and mated within their own separate communities. Once Louisiana became a part of the United States and people who lived within the colonies infiltrated these communities, some caulbearers married these newcomers until the former group became a minority—albeit powerful, and therefore threatening. Only women could be caulbearers. Though most stayed alive well past their centennial year to watch their descendants grow, their deaths were voluntary. Caulbearers were immortal under one condition: they could not be stripped entirely of their caul. Most stayed alive well into their hundreds, so stories began to circulate that caulbearers were found stark naked in the bodies of Lake Pontchartrain and Cane River, or buried in some unmarked lot in Isle Brevelle. Days after their disappearance, people would be walking around with cauls adorning their necks.
It was Maman’s great-great-grandmother who thought it was best that they sell themselves before anybody killed them for what they had. She noticed that as children progressed through puberty, they would grow taller and the caul would grow with them, covering their bodies, leading her to believe that it would regenerate on its own until they turned twenty-one. At that time, the caul would get harder to sever, like cutting through the head of a cabbage. Maman’s great-great-grandmother went back to the bodies of the caulbearing women who were slain and saw that not only had their bodies been stripped of their cauls, but their skin had harsh cuts and bruises. She ruminated for days over what it meant until she witnessed a caulbearing child who shrieked in pain in an open field after a dog bit into her and ran away with a bit of the caul caught in its mouth. The girl’s caul never regenerated, and that’s when Maman’s great-great-grandmother knew two things: if a caulbearer was entirely stripped, she’d die, and if her caul was torn in a violent way, she would not be able to heal herself and the regenerative power would be gone.
She proposed that this network of caulbearers sell small bits of their cauls to anyone who wanted it as a means of survival. By the time that their communities had been infiltrated, there were families full of siblings who were both caulbearing and ordinary. Those who had the caul would be cut, and those who were ordinary would handle more administrative functions: selling and procuring deals. In a few decades, they needed that business to migrate out of Louisiana elsewhere, to untapped markets.
“Maman!” Josephine burst through the door, panting and wiping her forehead.
Maman lowered her bifocals and twisted her body around to face Josephine. “Don’t you know that it’s inappropriate to enter a room without knocking?”
Josephine abruptly stopped her panting and held on to the doorknob to steady herself.
“Do you hear me when I’m talking to you? I’m asking you a question.”
“Yes, Maman.”
“Then why did you do it?” Before Josephine could get a word in, Maman scoffed. “Forty-two years old and I still have to correct you like you’re Helena’s age. Well, now that you’ve interrupted me, what?” Maman dropped her pen and crossed her arms over her chest.
“She’s here.”
“Be specific, Josephine.” She made a circular motion with her right hand midair to encourage her daughter to hurry it up.
“Your new granddaughter.”
Maman patted the sides of her burgundy turban and stood up. Maman’s rise to her feet never failed to spur Josephine to take a step backward and avert her eyes. The floor always creaked, and whichever room they were in always got a bit darker, for Maman’s shadow would eclipse Josephine’s body.
“Are you going to stop blocking the door or are you going to move out of the way and let me perform my duties as the mistress of this abode?”
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” Josephine stepped aside with her head down. As Maman walked past Josephine, she scoffed and shook her head before venturing into the corridor.
Landon was holding a sleeping Hallow in his arms in the dining room. Five-year-old Helena, who was covered in bandages on her arms and legs, screamed whenever Iris drew near to her and limped over to Josephine for safety. But Helena sensed something different in her aunt’s gaze, an excitement that she had never drawn out of Josephine. When Maman entered the room, she grinned at the sight of Landon holding the child, the translucence of her caul sparkling in the light.
“Boil some water and bring me my utility knife.” Maman spoke with her chin hovering over her right shoulder. Whenever a caulbearer is born, part of the caul must be steeped in tea, which the child must consume, or else she will be assailed with visions of both past and future along with the persistent voices of ghosts, which is what happened to Iris.
Josephine hurried into the kitchen and Maman approached Hallow, pulling the cover back from her body. “Did anyone see you?” Maman asked as she stroked Hallow’s head and arms.
“No one.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“The mother. Is she
