by Ocean
Do I trust them?
That was a good question. Then she remembered Quinteria and what the Mambo had done to her.
When she finally spoke, she said, “I do. I do trust them. After what Quinteria told us about the Mambo, their story makes sense to me. I can’t say for sure what I would’ve done in their situation, but I can imagine their feeling of desperation. I say we try to help them and hope it works out that we all end up in bodies we’re happy with. If I were them, I’d want someone to give me the same chance.”
Devin didn’t speak for a while. She simply stared deeply into Rosie’s eyes, with Rosie returning the look. As was happening with increased frequency, a certain communication passed between them. Unspoken words. An electricity zapped through Rosie’s body. Even though she was stuck in a form that wasn’t technically living, the sensations, the memory of what it felt like to be alive, was vivid. The sensation of her heart racing, her pulse pressing on her neck. A tingling sensation in her stomach and a stirring of warmth that started at her chest and lowered to her knees. She wanted to reach out and embrace Devin and never let go yet, she waited patiently for Devin to answer.
Devin broke the moment by speaking.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s do this.”
They walked back toward Ria and Naomi, who cut short their discussion and turned to face them. Naomi still clutched the gas lamp.
“Well?” she said.
“Okay,” Devin said. “Put the lamp down. We’ll help you. But we’re trusting you, and I swear if you’re lying to us again, I don’t care if I’m missing arms, legs, a head, whatever. My ghostly soul will hunt you down and torture you until the end of eternity.”
Ria and Naomi each released an audible sigh. Both their shoulders relaxed.
“Thank you,” Naomi said as she replaced the lamp back onto the table.
“I hope we haven’t just made a deal with the Devil,” Devin said. “Because if–”
“Devin!” Rosie interrupted her.
“What?” Devin asked.
“We forgot. There’s another complication that we haven’t discussed yet.”
“As if we don’t have enough?” Devin said.
“What complication?” Ria asked.
“We forgot to explain about who else is after them,” Rosie said.
Ria and Naomi’s faces fell into distortions of confusion.
“Who else is after us?” Ria asked.
“Satan,” Rosie said.
The word slid from Ria and Naomi’s mouths.
“Satan?!”
43
No time to clown around
“Why is Satan after us?” Naomi rubbed her chin where the heat from the flame had irritated it.
“We don’t know, but he definitely is,” Rosie said.
“How do you know?” Ria asked.
Devin answered her. “We heard him talking to the Mambo. They were arguing over your souls.”
“Our souls?” Ria turned to Naomi. “What did we ever do that would make Satan feel he deserves our souls?”
“It’s the Mambo,” Naomi reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. A fierce look from Devin, stopped her, and she put them back. “She’s involved in this somehow.”
Rosie opened her mouth to speak but before the words came out, a rumbling laughter pierced the air. If thunder could laugh, that’s what it sounded like. All four flinched, and they searched the upward for the source. It was not to be found, but the laughing continued.
“I know that laugh,” Naomi said.
“The Mambo,” Ria whispered.
“You’re all fools,” the voice boomed. “Bring my book back to me.”
Rosie pressed the book tighter to her chest.
“It’s our book now.” Devin directed her speech upward, toward the ceiling.
“Preposterous,” the voice cackled. “It’s of no good to you. You don’t know the secrets to unleash the power. In the wrong hands, it’s dangerous. You’ll only hurt yourselves and anyone you come in contact with. Do as I say, and I’ll take pity on you and won’t turn you all into toads.”
Naomi whispered, “She can’t place a curse on us over time and place without having the book in her possession.”
“I heard you!” the voice bellowed.
Naomi shouted, “Fine. Hear this then, you’re evil. If Satan is after anyone, it should be you. All the pain and suffering you’ve caused. You’re the one who deserves to burn in hell for the rest of eternity, not us.”
“You loved me once.” The voice was stern, yet Rosie thought the tone carried a tinge of hopefulness.
“I never loved you,” Naomi shouted to the sky. The veins in her neck strained under her skin. “This is the only woman I’ve ever loved.” She wrapped an arm around Ria. “You’re incapable of loving or being loved.”
Lightening flashed across the sky that lit up the inside of the tent. Voices rose from the nearby darkness.
“What was that?”
“Just a summer storm,” someone said. “Go back to bed.”
Then there was silence. For moments, none of them moved. Each of their eyes had grown wide during the confrontation, and they stood silently waiting and watching.
“We have to get going,” Devin said. “We need to find a couple bodies that you two can change into so we can get back into ours before Satan shows up and collects your souls. That’ll be your issue with him, not ours. Let’s go. We don’t have time to waste.”
“Where’d you leave your boat?” Ria asked.
“The other side of the island, near the beach.” Devin pointed in the direction that they’d left the boat.
Ria and Naomi gathered up a few things from the tent and prepared to leave. Devin exited the tent first. No sooner had she taken her first step into the night air when she froze. Rosie had been following close behind her and when Devin stopped, she bumped into her.
“Oomph.” A muffled cry burst from Rosie when her face smooshed into the back of Devin’s shoulders. “What the–”
Before she finished speaking, she saw what had caused Devin to stop abruptly.
In front of them stood a clown. Not a miniature doll clown. A human-sized clown. Half his face and body were burned. His eye sockets were empty.
Rosie felt her bottom jaw drop, but no noise escaped. One word was spoken by Devin and it was said with a voice thick with terror.
“Clownie!”
44
Take that, and that…
As they exited the tent, Ria and Naomi were engaged in a chatty conversation that stopped immediately on seeing the clown.
“Clownie! They each whispered the word.
“Boo,” Clownie said. The word left his mouth in a slow drawl as only half his face was working. The other half was a charred remnant of what used to be a face. His voice no longer had the joyful, jubilant tone that they’d heard the first time they’d met him. It was now sad, mournful.
Half his body was badly burnt. The entire left side was charred black. His left arm hung limply from a burnt shoulder. He leaned heavily on his one good leg, dragging the other as he approached them.
Rosie grabbed onto Devin, and Ria clung to Naomi. The four cowered tightly together.
Clownie’s good hand motioned.
Devin turned to Rosie.
“What’s he saying?”
“He’s saying ‘Help me’.” Rosie answered but kept her eyes fixed on the clown that slowly made his way toward them. He’d hop with his good leg, then drag the useless one.
“Help him?” Devin’s face contorted in a way that Rosie had never seen before. “Fuck that.”
She pulled herself away from Rosie and sprinted toward the woeful clown.
“Devin?” Rosie shouted, but it was too late. Devin had tackled Clownie. She threw herself at his good leg. Her momentum was enough to tip the clown over. He flew backward, and when he landed on the burnt ground, a puff of dark ash flew upward. Devin wasted no time jumping on top of him and imm
ediately began punching him in the face. As her right fist made repeated contact with the left side of his charred face, burnt pieces flaked off.
“You bastard!” she screamed. “You killed my brother.” Each word was accented by a punch. The clown tried to protect his face and push her off with his one good hand, but her fierce intensity was too much for him.
“You child molester. I’ll kill you!”
Neither the punches nor her words slowed.
From one of the tents, a dog growled.
Rosie ran and grabbed Devin’s arm mid-air, stopping a punch from connecting.
“Devin. Stop. Enough. We have to go,” she said as she nervously surveyed the campsite.
From inside a couple of tents came rustling noises of people moving about.
Devin tried to wrestle her arm free, but Rosie held firm.
“Let me go Rosie,” she said. “I want to kill him.”
“You can’t kill him, Devin,” Rosie said. “He’s already dead. Sort of. You’ve damaged him enough. Let’s just go. It’ll be sunrise soon.”
A man’s voice from inside one of the tents said, “It’s probably an animal. I’ll check it out.” The dog barked.
Devin shook her head as if doing so snapped her out of the frenzied state. Reluctantly she stood. She continued to breathe heavily as she towered in her short doll body, over the clown who had curled into a fetal position. He moaned and rolled onto his good side, gently tapping the side of his missing face with his good hand.
Naomi and Ria had watched the fight from the entrance of the tent.
“Let’s go,” Naomi said to Ria, and they turned in the direction of the boat.
Rosie softly tugged on Devin’s arm.
“Devin,” her voice was as gentle as the tug. “Come.”
Devin took a step back, away from the clown. She turned toward Rosie but before taking a step, she gave Clownie’s head a swift kick.
“Boo!” he cried. The sound was high-pitched like that of an injured bird.
Devin took a step in the boat's direction.
“Wait,” she said. Ria and Naomi stopped.
“Let’s take that boat. We’ll get there quicker.” She pointed toward the speedboat with the words, “Key West News” emblazoned on the side.”
As the engine roared to life, Devin shouted orders.
“Naomi, pull up the anchor. Ria, you untie that rope. Rosie, get on the throttle.”
When the boat was freed, Devin gave the command.
“Okay, Rosie, give it all she’s got. Hold on everyone.”
Before pressing on the throttle, Rosie glanced back toward the island. Clownie, with only one good arm and leg, had struggled to stand and now staggered into the woods. As he disappeared from her view, his pitiful cries floated through the air.
Boo. Boo.
45
Race against the sun
When they were out of sight of the island, Devin said to Naomi, “Here, you drive. You can handle it better than we can.”
“Good thinking, taking this boat,” Naomi said. “She’s got a lot of horses. She’ll get us there in no time.”
A thought occurred to Rosie, and she looked at Naomi.
“Hey?” she said. “How come you know about boats? I know nothing about them or horsepower. How can you? They didn’t have speed boats in the 18th century.”
Naomi grinned and the devilish smile reminded Rosie of Devin when she smirked.
“Some of the boats that were abandoned on the island had boating and navigational books and magazines in them. I read every page of every book I could get my hands on. We’ve had plenty of time to read.”
She winked at Ria as she exchanged positions with Devin and stood behind the steering wheel.
“Hold on, baby. We’re going to fly to Cuba.”
She pressed on the throttle, and the boat responded to her command. Seeing Naomi drive the boat was like watching Devin drive. Well, it was Devin driving, but not really.
The boat picked up speed. Ria gripped the dashboard with one hand while her other arm wrapped around Devin and Rosie, keeping them pressed closely to her, while Rosie held tightly onto the book with both hands.
When they hit the first big wave the boat lifted out of the water, and crashed down with a loud, ‘bang.’
Ria screamed and tightened her grip on Devin and Rosie.
“Holy smokes,” Devin said, “slow down or you’ll crack the hull.”
The grin that spread wide across Naomi’s face didn’t lesson, but she pulled back on the throttle, and the boat slowed.
“Do you know which direction to go?” Rosie yelled over the sound of the engines.
“Yes. It’s due south.” Naomi pointed to the compass installed on the dash. The thin red marker bobbed over the “S”.
“Thank you for helping us,” Ria said.
“As long as we get our own bodies back, that’s all I care about,” Devin said. “I wish I could’ve killed him,” she added.
“He’s suffering in his own kind of hell,” Ria said.
“He needs to suffer more.” Devin’s face was stone hard.
“Let’s discuss the plan,” Rosie said. “How are we going to do this?”
“I was thinking,” Naomi yelled. “We’ll go right to the mausoleum and look for some new burial sites. With any luck, there’ll be two new people there that we can do the change with.”
“People?” Ria said, “you mean women. I don’t want to change into a male body.”
“Right. Women,” Naomi corrected herself.
“And what are we going to do if there are no bodies available to make the change?” Rosie asked.
“Then we’ll have to come up with another plan,” Ria said.
“Yeah, the other plan is we change with you, get back into our own bodies, and you figure out how you’re going to get out of these nun bodies and become human again,” Devin said.
“Like Ria said,” Naomi peered intensely into the night that spread before them, deftly steering the boat around floating pieces of trash. “We’ll have to come up with another plan at that time if–”
“Oh no,” Devin interrupted her. “No other plan. We are getting back in our bodies today.”
“You’re not exactly in a good negotiating position,” Naomi snapped back. She pointed a finger at Devin. “You–”
“Ladies!” Rosie chided. “Stop it! We’re all in this together, and all want the same thing. So, let’s not bicker and let’s work together instead.”
Devin and Naomi shot sideways glances at each other. The group remained silent while the boat sliced through the dark waves. All eyes occasionally glanced at the compass.
“What are you going to do when you get into new bodies?” Rosie asked.
Ria shrugged. “We haven’t decided yet. We talked a little about our options, but it’s been such a whirlwind with the media, that we’ve hardly had time to be alone and discuss what we want to do.”
The wind had picked up, and the waves were larger. Naomi had to slow the boat down to navigate the rough waters. Rosie was glad that, for the time being, she was a doll. Had she been in her own body, she would’ve been seasick.
“Aren’t you getting seasick?” she asked Ria.
“No,” Ria answered. “I don’t get seasick.”
“Cool. I hope that part remains with my body. By the way, I like the haircut. And you got contacts?”
Ria nodded.
“Yes, I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t like your glasses.”
“No, that’s fine. I like the new look.”
“I’m thinking we’ll head to Cape Cod, to Provincetown. We’ve read it’s a fun, artsy community that’ll embrace us,” Naomi said.
“We’ll have to get jobs,” Ria said.
“What will you do?” Devin asked.
“I’m not sure,” Ria said. “It’s not like we have skills that would be of value today. All we did for almost three hundred years was pick up trash that floated onto the beac
h and read whatever we could get our hands on.”
“Does anyone still make handmade shoes anymore? That’s what I used to do before the Mambo cast the spell on me and ruined my life,” Naomi said.
“And I was a cook,” Ria said. “We’ll have to figure something out.”
“Naomi, you might be able to start up a business making custom handmade shoes,” Rosie said. “And there are lots of restaurants that might hire you, Ria. You may just have to get up to speed a bit with how our culture likes to eat now, but you might bring some interesting Cuban recipes and fresh perspectives to a kitchen.”
“What are you two going to do when you get back in your bodies?” Ria asked.
“I’m going back to my boring, peaceful life and my little dog,” Rosie said.
“I’m going to make movies,” Devin said.
“You make movies?” Ria asked. “Cool. What kind?”
“I have some ideas. I haven’t figured out all the details of all the plots yet, but I have some concepts that I want to explore.”
“Tell us. It’s so interesting. It’s fascinating.”
“You’ve never seen a movie, have you?” Devin asked.
Ria shook her head.
“Nope. They hadn’t been invented yet in the 1700’s. We’ve read about them over the years in various newspapers, of course, but haven’t actually seen one yet.”
“Whoa. You’re in for some culture shock.”
“So, come on. Tell us what your movies will be about,” Naomi said.
“I’m not sure exactly, all I know is that I want to make movies that mean something. Not just the trash that so often gets produced these days. I want to move people. Make them think, feel. I want to make movies that help make the world a better place.”
“You will,” Rosie said. “I believe you will.”
“Thank you,” Devin said. “You know, I was thinking–”
“Look!” Naomi pointed toward the horizon. “There it is. Cuba!”
