Chapter One: A Day In The Life
“I can’t believe you brought me here to be healed by some wild-haired crazy old lady!” Roy Lestrange complained to his mother as she pulled him impatiently along.
“I told you, she’s not just some old lady; she’s a witch and she can make you better.”
“The fact that you believe in witchcraft Ma… I mean this is 1989”, Roy complained even as he followed her through the trees to the ramshackle house he could see. It looked like it was standing strictly by the grace of God or maybe some magic the witch was using to hold up her residence. Roy didn’t get it; if she had access to all this magic and shit why didn’t she imagine herself a mansion and a fortune? Why live like an animal in the middle of the bayou with her equally crazy granddaughter?
His mother reached the door, she hesitated, shooting him a glance tinged with apprehension before extending a hand slowly to knock softly on it. They shifted from foot to foot, waiting for someone to come to the door. It was opened by a wizened old woman with a halo of grey hair; she smiled at them in welcome as if she’d been expecting them…
“Come in”, she said and led the way into her house. Roy was expecting to see the skulls of babies decorating the mantelpiece, maybe with snakeskin covering the walls. But no, the furniture was threadbare yet neat. An aubusson rug, old but well kept lay on the living room floor. The couch was covered with throw pillows and a crocheted cover. There were outdated pictures on the wall of men and women dressed in old fashioned clothing. A tantalizing smell of freshly baked something emanated from behind the wooden kitchen counter. Roy’s mouth watered, and he wondered if the witch would offer them something to eat before the day’s business began.
She led them past the living room however, toward some narrow stairs. They led up to an attic where all the good stuff was. Animal skulls, and chicken feathers, an altar with the requisite freaky statue on it. The statue was surrounded by offerings of rice and tobacco, black coffee and yams, a straw hat and a cane, pennies, palm oil and roses. This was more like Roy was expecting.
“What can I do for you?” The witch asked startling Roy with the soft, compassionate nature of her tone.
“My Roy is sick Nannane. Could you heal him?” His mother asked hands clasped and stretched forward in a pleading way.
The witch held out her hand to Roy, and he understood that she wanted him to put his hand in hers. He was scared though; he didn’t want to do it. With his mother’s narrowed eyes on him though, he felt he had no choice but to clasp her hands with his own. She closed her eyes, humming softly under her breath. A warmth suffused the area where her hands touched his and it slowly began to permeate the rest of him. He felt his body relax into languid peace while his eyes closed of their own volition. It was like receiving the gentlest massage in human history.
“You have the wasting disease", the witch intoned, “What are they calling it these days… AIDS?”
Roy jumped in shock. Nobody knew that; nobody said that...not out loud. His mama didn’t know, she couldn’t have told. How had this witch guessed? He opened his eyes and snatched his hand out of hers, standing quickly to leave. His mother was watching him; a sad look in her eyes. The witch’s eyes were serene. She sat watching him, waiting for him to do what he would.
“How do you know that?” He whispered.
The witch just smiled slightly and held out her hands, “I don’t know if I can heal you; that is not in my hands. But I can make you feel better,", she said.
Roy just stared at her, “You can’t… tell anyone. You can’t…”, he stammered.
The witch shook her head, “My work is just as confidential as any priest… or doctor. You need not worry that anyone will know of your illness from me.”
“What can you do for me that the doctors can’t?” Roy demanded.
The witch shrugged, “The doctor gives you medicine for your body. You should continue to take those. I deal with a more holistic approach – your soul, your mind and your body – I call on the healing spirits to help you to feel better, and give you herbs to help your body and soul open to that healing spirit.”
“I don’t believe in that mumbo jumbo,", Roy said belligerently.
“Indeed”, the witch said, seemingly unperturbed.
“Roy, will you sit and let the lady do what she can for you?” His mother’s voice was low yet stringent and strained with emotion.
Roy stared back at her with a frown but the habit of obedience was long ingrained and he sat back down, “Okay”, he said meekly.
The witch lit the candles on the altar and lifted her hands up chanting:
“Papa Legba!
Papa legba open the gate for me.
Antibon legba please open the gate.
Legba open the gate for me and I will thank
The lwa when I return.”
Roy waited for something to happen, maybe a bright light to appear in the statue’s eyes or something. Nothing did though, but the witch seemed unperturbed. She leaned forward, lighting a fragrant leaf on the candle and waving the resultant smoke about, wafting the smoke toward him as she chanted. And then she picked up herbs from the shelves, crushing them in a mortar while she continued to chant. She put the resultant crushed herbs into a tiny cloth and twisted it into a small bag.
“Put this in your tea for three nights in a row as you go to sleep. Sip it slowly and then chant three times;
By earth and water,
Air and by fire,
May you hear this wish,
Sources of life and light
Sources of the day and of the earth,
I invoke you here,
Heal my body and mind.”
Roy nodded his head, pretty sure he’d forget those words as soon as they cleared the perimeter fence but not sufficiently invested to ask for a repeat.
“Could you repeat that so I can write it down?” His mother asked and Roy narrowed his eyes at her, wondering if she had somehow guessed what ailed him and that’s why she was so insistent on this visit.
The witch obligingly repeated the incantation slowly so his mother could write it down. She handed over the herbs and just like that, the juju session was over.
“Thank you Nannane”, his mother said. The witch nodded and smiled, gesturing for them to precede her back down the stairs. His mother asked about the witch’s granddaughter and she went on about how well she was doing in school which was just freaky considering they’d just been calling out to some pagan god in her attic. Honestly Roy was surprised the kid even bothered with school what with her future career as a witch not exactly needing a GED.
They left the witch’s place, back through the woods to where they’d left the car. The sun was setting, and they passed the figure of a black girl, walking toward the ramshackle from the direction of the town. It was a small town, so they knew at once who she was. Her tall, slim figure and big hair marking her out as Matia’s grand-daughter Mya. Her clothes seemed to be hand me-downs straight from her grandmother’s wardrobe but she carried herself with dignity. She was a very youthful looking yet poised young lady and smiled slightly at them as she passed but didn’t linger. It was as if she knew they didn’t want to be seen. They must get a lot of visitors like them up at the Andrewes house. They must be used to people skulking away through the woods. His mother touched him gently on the arm.
“Everything will be alright Roy,", she whispered.
“I know ma”, he replied.
Mya was daydreaming as she walked, a slight smile on her face. She was having a good day for once and she wanted to savour it. Her grandmother had packed cucumber sandwiches with a piece of chocolate cake for her lunch, which was great. And then she’d gotten to eat it in peace at the back of the chemistry class. Mrs. Rogers had held her back to finish her experiment. She expected that the teacher had meant it as a punishment; but chemistry was her favourite subject and she wanted to finish the project. To be given the chance to do it over her lunch hour was a plus. The chemistry class was quiet; it was a distance from the dining hall and the madness disguised as the lunch time crowd in there. If she could, she’d eat lunch there every day. The sharp smells of the chemicals didn’t bother her at all; not after grammy’s attic…
After lunch, she’d had her phys ed. class which quite honestly, was her least favourite. She was always the last to be chosen for every team, and some of the more prejudiced kids were pretty quick to cause her hurt. She had gotten good at dodging them these days, but it still sucked. Today had been one of those days where some idiot had stepped on her ankle and twisted it. She’d been in so much pain and dreading the walk to the nurse’s office but then her classmate, Teddy ‘The Bear’, had picked her up and carried her to the infirmary, murmuring comforting nonsense all the while.
“You’ll be just fine”, he’d said as he put her gently down on the nurse’s bed.
“Thanks for the ride”, she’d replied with a shy smile.
“No problem. Hey I can take you home if you like.”
Mya would have liked… but she had this thing about getting in strangers’ cars. Even nice enough almost strangers like Teddy The Bear. Sure they were in the same class so yeah, not exactly strangers. But he was a big guy and she was a girl with no friends and none but an old grandma to defend her. So she wasn’t putting herself in compromising situations if she could possibly help it. But she enjoyed the attention that Teddy paid her, it was tender and solicitous without being patronising. She thought that given time, and effort, they could be good friends. Who knows? Maybe even more. Though she’d noticed the way he looked at Charlotte le Carre. To be honest everybody’d noticed how he looked at Charlotte. Mya shrugged internally, it wasn’t like princess Charlotte looked back… she was too taken with that jock; the one all the girls fell over. What was his name again? Louis? Lester?... Leo. His name was Leo. Leo Devereaux. And he was so much larger than life that Mya just couldn’t take him seriously. Maybe seeing as Teddy didn’t have even the ghost of a chance with his crush, he’d look at her as a suitable substitute. I mean god knew it was way past time that somebody kissed her. And if someone was going to do it, she wanted it to be a guy that was as good and kind as Teddy. Mya scoffed at herself;
‘Good and kind Mya? Really? Could you get any more pathetic or desperate?’
Mya hated that voice; it was always snarky and superior and spoke to her like it knew a lot more than she did. I mean sure it was in her head, but she didn’t recognise it as anyone she’d ever heard or known. Usually the voices in her head followed a pattern; there was the comforting voice of wisdom that sounded a lot like her grandpa George, and then there was the disappointed, ‘but what are you doing Mya?’ voice that sounded the way she imagined her mother used to sound. The indulgent ‘Oh Mya, what am I to do with you?’ tone definitely belonged to Grandma Matia... and then there was this snarky bitch who Mya did not know and would have preferred if she left. Nevertheless, Snarky Bitch had a point - perhaps there was more to a partner than kindness and goodness... maybe she was playing it safe; but who the fuck cared? It was her choice and her life and that’s what she wanted.
“So there”, Mya told the voice and then looked around quickly to confirm that no-one had seen her talking to herself. That would definitely not be good PR. People already thought she was crazy as a shit house rat. It was the hair; she knew it was the hair... People weren’t used to natural black people hair in this corner of Louisiana; not anymore anyway. This was white people country with old world ranch style houses dotting the landscape. Okay yes, the houses were generally old and decrepit - this wasn’t the garden district after all - still, the memory of their predecessors remained; even though there was only one active sugar cane ranch still in operation... The Evans’ alligator ranch. Yep, sure they grew sugar cane, and it did even make them money; but most of their income came from the alligator farming they did.
She knew she should maybe try to straighten her hair out a little; comb it in a more ‘acceptable’ way... But she liked the whole Diana Ross look she had going on; occasionally she did switch it up with braids. It was comfortable, and it suited her face and it was cheap to maintain - what was a girl to do? Besides she had better things to think about than how her hair was affecting people’s lives. She was well on her way to earning that Rhodes Scholarship to the University of Louisiana and from there the world was her oyster. Hell if Teddy wouldn’t take her up on her offer, she was sure she could find someone over at UL who could appreciate what she had on offer. She looked down at her pert breasts, examining them critically as she walked up her porch steps.
“What’s up with your breasts?” a voice asked from above her startling the hell out of her.
“Grammy! You scared me,", she chided, pouting at her.
“Sorry. What were you thinking about just now though? You were staring at your boobies like you expected them to sprout legs and walk away from you or sum’n.” Matia said looking highly amused.
“Do you think I got nice breastes Grammy?” Mya asked looking back down at them.
“Oh you have perfect boobies honey, made to hang clothes on,", her grandmother replied swaying off to the kitchen, “Now you want Jambalaya or Gumbo for dinner? We have leftovers of both.”
“Can I have both?”
Matia glanced back at her with a smile, “Honey with how much you eat it's amazing you don’t look like Fat Albert.”
Mya laughed, “It's all that gardenin and fishin you make me do Grammy. Slave labouuurrr”, she sang the last part in a soft cheeky voice. Matia just laughed.
“Food will be on in ten, wash up.”
“Yes grammy”, Mya said in faux submission. She ran upstairs to her room anyway to drop off her bag and then crossed over to the bathroom to wash up. As she did so, she heard voices downstairs... it seemed they had a visitor.
Phillip Locklear was standing in the middle of the living room smiling at Matia.
“And how is Sally doing?” She was asking.
Phil grimaced but then forced a smile, “She’s fine I guess. I haven’t seen her for a while. You know she had that flower show to attend in New Orleans and we’ve been busy at the farm.”
“Oh? What did she do about the shop while she was in New Orleans?”
Phil shrugged, “I’m not sure. Like I said, I’ve been busy on the farm.”
“Mmmhmm, sure. How are the alligators doing then. Business still good?”
“Well, cash flow is great. Its tourist season you know so we’re doing a lot of tours. We also have a new worker; she’s invaluable because the clients love her accent and she’s fearless with the alligators.”
“Oh? Where is she from?” Matia asked stirring her pot.
“London”, Phil said. His colour was high and Mya wondered why.
“Oh how interesting”, Matia said with a smile. She moved to the sideboard and picked up a linen bag which she twisted closed and passed to Phil.
“There you go,", she said.
“Thank you. My eczema always acts up in this weather and nothing works as well as your herbs,", he said, tucking it into his bag.
“Glad to help. Will you stay for dinner?” Matia asked. Phil turned to smile at Mya as she walked past him to lay the table.
“I’d love to, but I promised Sally I’d pass by her place for dinner,", he looked genuinely regretful.
“Too bad Phil, I was hoping to hear more about this hot London babe of yours,", Mya teased.
Phil blushed, “She’s not mine”, he murmured.
“Oh but you wish she was, am I right? Am I right?” Mya asked nudging at him with a saucy smile on her face. The blush on Phil’s face seemed to get ten times deeper.
“Oooh, you like her don’t you?” Mya said with a huge grin seeing it, “you should go for it”, she whispered.
Phil nudged her back and then turned back to Matia, “Thank you for the herbs Matia”, he said with a small bow. He was about the same height as Mya so he could catch her eye as he turned to the door narrowing his eyes as if exhorting her to behave. She grinned wider at him and waved him out.
“Mmm, something smells good,", she said.
“Dinner’s ready, dig in,", Matia replied.
“Oooh Teddy come here. I heard you were quite the sir Galahad today”, Charlotte called to him as he stepped into the sports auditorium. She was sitting with her girls on the second pier while the basketball team practised. Teddy was already late for practise as it was but he still altered direction to go talk to her.
“I don’t know what you mean”, he told her as he reached her.
“Didn’t you carry that black girl to the infirmary today?” she asked in a tone that was vaguely accusing.
“She was hurt”, he said in confusion.
“Aww, how sweet of you. Better be careful though or I might think you don’t like me anymore,", she said with a pout.
Teddy opened his mouth to protest when coach bellowed his name.
“Theodore Bailor what time is this?” he yelled.
Teddy jumped, “Sorry coach”, he said hurrying to join the rest of the team jogging around the basketball court. He didn’t miss Leo’s smirk though as he jogged past. He really hated that self satisfied SOB with all of his heart, and it wasn’t just because Charlotte was in love with him. That boy was not good people. Teddy was sorry to have to think that, but it was just the truth. Leo’s butt buddy slash best friend Miles ran past soon after; he followed Leo around like a love sick puppy and Teddy just did not understand the attraction everyone seemed to feel for that walking ego. As he huffed through the hundred extra push ups the coach assigned him for being late, he could feel Charlotte’s eyes on him, so he counted it as a win.