Treasure

Treasure

Young Isaac slapped his hands over his ears every time he heard the wailing and screaming coming from the back room of the bordello. Madam Josie ordered the six year old colored boy to run fast and bring the doctor, for it was time. Coffey was about to have her baby.

Sunlight burst forth over New Orleans when a slippery baby opened her eyes for the first time on a sultry Wednesday morning. The bordello became quiet except for a tiny peep from the doll-like enfant. A beauty by all standards. High yellow.

The weary mother smiled at her baby girl. “I shall call you Treasure.” And so it was for three days until Coffey died from toxemia. With a heavy heart and a little fear, Madam Josie summoned Mr. Williams, a banker in the French Quarter, and the father of Treasure.

Being a wealthy man, Marcus Williams secured a wet nurse for Treasure and entrusted the inhabitants of the Victorian mansion to care for his daughter. He had cherished the mulatto girl, Coffey. When she first came to Madam Josie she was only sixteen. Her master had passed and she was scared. Times could be good or bad for a pretty young girl of light skin. But when Mr. Williams first saw her walking to a near-by shop with Madam Josie he was awestruck. In essence, he paid for Coffey’s room at the mansion, gave her a monthly allowance, and no other man was ever to touch her.

Mr. Williams lived in the Garden District in his own stately mansion with his rigid wife, Kathryn, and their two boys, James and Timothy. The day to day chores were handled by Negro servants. He would have loved to taken Coffey home to his family to live, but indeed his wife would have put her into servitude. So he did not. But gossip has its way, since Marcus became a frequent visitor to the bordello mansion on Rampart Street.

Even though Marcus was a shrewd businessman, he had been a tender man with Coffey. Being a petite girl, she would spend her time sitting on his lap after gentle lovemaking. They fell in love and she would beg him to stay.

“Not this time, my love. I have a meeting in the morning.” Although she knew the real reason, she continued to bat or amber eyes at him and win him over with her coquettish smile. He was already buried deep in love with her.

Marcus never forgot to bring her flowers or a dainty bauble of jewelry to wear around her slender neck. He educated her in the fine arts. Madam Josie’s posh mansion was home to many beautiful oil paintings and sculptures. He made sure she learned the artists’ names and their history while they lounged on the plush ruby red velvet sofas, sipping a fine wine. A black man by the name of Bailey played piano long into the evening.

Life in Storyville was beautiful and ugly to the tune of new ragtime music spilling out into the streets. And now that Coffey was gone, Marcus Williams cried privately behind closed doors. He could not publicly mourn for his beloved, as it would have caused shame to his family. And now he had a little girl who did not belong in his world. She was a gift left behind.



Marcus stayed in the background while Treasure DuBois blossomed into a beautiful quadroon. He kept the same rooms at the mansion for his little daughter and a lovely light skinned creole woman by the name of Marie as her companion and nurturer. By five year old Treasure spoke fluent English and French. Marcus made sure she was schooled to learn to read and write. Plus, her manners were impeccable. Marcus actually supported all of the children who lived at the mansion with their mothers. He never took favors from the working women, nor did he look down on them, but he wanted their children to have other choices and chances in life. His devotion for Treasure spread to the other children.

“Your love for Coffey and her daughter has made life very worthwhile for the children here,” said Madam Josie one day during tea with Marcus.

“You’ve made it a respectable business, Miss Josie.” Marcus though a moment before adding, “My own children at home have been raised without worries and have servants, but they are not good young men.”

“How do you mean, Marcus?”

“Kathryn has taught them servants are beneath them, so they are rude and oft times say cruel things to them.”

“Just continue to be a good example.”

And then his frown turned into a smile when a beautiful girl with sausage curls graced them with her appearance. “Monsieur Williams, it is a pleasure to see you.” Treasure extended her hand to Marcus and curtsied.

“Oh, Treasure, you are a delight to behold,” he shook her gloved hand. Glancing at her velvet apparel and the royal blue beribboned bonnet hugging her curls, “Are you leaving for somewhere?”

“Oui – Marie and I must see the dressmaker, for I have grown, sir.”

Marcus stood up and took both of her hands and then gently spun her around. “Why now I see it. You’ve grown from a tiny sprite into a beautiful fairy. May I see your wings, please?”

Treasure giggled. “Why sir, they are carefully folded for the afternoon so I don’t fly away.”

Marcus wanted to crush her with a hug, but he dare not. She was too precious to him. Coffey would have been so proud of their daughter, now fourteen years old.

Marie and Isaac entered the parlor to join Treasure. Upon seeing Marcus, Marie smiled at the handsome man. “Sir, it is a pleasure to see you.”

He returned the smile, “As it is to see you. I understand you will be going to the shops.”

“Yes. Isaac is learning photography and will be doing a session of everyone in the upcoming weeks.”

“Marcus, it is a very private session for the ladies. The rest will be group photographs of the children, or in the gardens.” Informed Madam Josie.

After the trio exited he said, “Make sure Treasure is covered head to toe.”

“All the children will be.”

“I don’t consider Isaac a child anymore. Is it safe to have him around my daughter?”

“She is like a sister to him. He watched her being born. Coffey looked after Isaac when his mother took off and left him here. He is more like her protector.”

A few weeks later, Madam Josie revealed the artistry of Isaac’s work. The photographs of Treasure in the rose garden made Marcus swoon at the beauty of his only daughter. The angle and sepia shadows affirmed the lush garden, but more so, the gentle innocent face of Treasure. Her soft features and good posture showed all the confidence of a white young lady. Marcus knew she would pass easily through life, but what life he wasn’t sure yet.

“Josie, what do you think of sending Treasure to a convent?”

Madam Josie almost laughed out loud, but caught herself when she realized Marcus was deadly serious.

“Oh, sir. She is still young. She should finish her studies, then perhaps Treasure will know what it is she would like to do.”

“I worry everyday about her future.”

“She is a very kind and loving person.

“I want her to experience love, and this scares me because…”

Madam Josie held up her hand to halt his speech. “What you are saying is you don’t know where she fits in. She could fall in love with a black man, but if others think she is white this could be troublesome, but is she marries a white gentleman and has children there is always a chance they would look much darker.”

“Exactly. So convent it shall be.”

“There is still time to figure this out. Let her be a child for now.”

Classes continued in the nursery for all six the children. Marcus paid for all the books and tutoring. If he had not loved Coffey, none of this would have happened. One day he would find another way to honor Coffey DuBois and the beautiful gift she left behind.



In the meantime, his own children were now ready to leave home. James went away to college to study science. But Timothy, the youngest and most cuddled by his mother, Kathryn, elected to learn the financial market by working at the bank with his father. He interned him with Mr. Adams, his toughest employee in the loan department. He hoped it would teach Timothy to value money properly.

Several weeks into his internship, while Mr. Adams was away on an errand, a nice young man came in to speak about getting a loan to buy equipment for his business. Timothy Williams looked upon the odd threesome with a bit of scorn. He was baffled by their finery. He assumed the colored boy was a servant to the women, so he directed his attention to the white girl.

“Good afternoon, miss. How may we be of service to you today?”

Treasure smiled sweetly at Timothy.” My friend here, Isaac Simmons, has business with Mr. Williams.”

Timothy cleared his throat. “I believe you must be mistaken, my dear lass, I am Mr. Williams and I don’t have business with the likes of Mr. Simmons.”

“I beg your pardon, sir. I have business with Marcus Williams.” Isaac remained calm, but put his hand on Treasure’s arm as a sign of protection. Madam Josie remained quiet and proud of Isaac for standing his ground with the rude bank employee.

Now Timothy was angry that the white girl had allowed the black boy to touch her. “He is too busy. Perhaps you can come another time.” Timothy sneered and turned away with a start, walking back to his desk.

Timothy’s hand fumbled around inside a desk drawer. He looked up at them and then raised his arm exposing the pistol pointed directly at the three of them. The pistol was only to be used in case of a bank robbery. “Leave now before I shoot.”

Treasure and Isaac stood stunned, but Madam Josie collected herself. “We’ll be leaving. We can speak to Mr. Williams another time.”

“No you won’t.” With that he pointed the pistol at Isaac. Treasure feared the worst and instinctively stepped in front of Isaac.

The shot was fired. Treasure slumped against Isaac. Madam Josie let out a blood curdling scream, just as Marcus Williams burst through the door of the bank. The bell tinkled in the chaos.

Marcus stared at his son. “What have you done?”

“They were trying to rob the bank,” lied Timothy. “So I shot at them.”

“Oh my god,” cried Marcus as he raced over to Treasure. “Ohmygod!” He picked her up and held her fragile body against his. “You killed her,” he yelled through sobs.

Timothy watched in horror as his father kissed Treasure over and over. Marcus removed her bonnet and caressed her chestnut curls with his bloodied hands. Isaac keened in pain, while Madam Josie sank to the floor with tears in her eyes.

“But papa, they were trying to rob the bank.”

“No, you fool. You killed my daughter.”

Fear and confusion spread over Timothy’s face. Another shot exploded from the pistol.



Isaac Simmons and Madam Josie stood under one black umbrella. They, the last to leave the mausoleum in the cemetary, breathed in the cloying scent of flowers stagnant in the muggy air.

Isaac shed one last tear. “I loved her.”

“We all did.”

“It’s not fair,” sniffed Isaac.

“No it is not. But Treasure and Mr. Williams are with Coffey now. Nothing we do will change that.”


But on occasion people swear they have seen Coffey, Marcus, and Treasure enjoying a stroll during a muggy evening on Rampart Street.


Word Count: 1998