Spellbound

by Jean Copeland

  She stopped when they reached the corner of Canal and Bourbon and turned around. “You know, you guys didn’t have to stop holding hands. People do that in public sometimes. It’s not a big deal in the twenty-first century.”

  Sarah and Ayotunde exchanged embarrassed grins.

  “Not that I’m suggesting anything about you two,” Hazel said, sensing the embarrassment she’d stirred up between them. “Just saying.”

  Sarah continued as though ignoring the suggestion that Hazel hadn’t made. “It appears we have arrived at our destination.” She pointed at the street sign.

  Hazel nodded. “Let’s review the plan.” She looked down when she hit her elbow on the newspaper bin next to her. The headline immediately caught her attention: “More Rally Violence, One Dead.” She read the location through the glass and gasped when she saw it had occurred in Roanoke, Virginia.

  “Raven,” she whispered. Raven had been on her mind constantly. Her only reprieve had been the intensity of the training session. She wanted so badly to hear her voice or at least to text her and read that she was fine. The deeper they got into this mission, the deeper her feelings for her seemed to go, taking root at a subterranean level. She ached to see her.

  “Hazel. The plan?” Sarah said.

  She snapped back to reality and waved them closer. “Okay. So, we’re going to stroll casually down Bourbon Street and take in all the sights and sounds just like any old tourists. As soon as we see an available outdoor table at a café, we’re gonna park ourselves, order some drinks, and see what kind of mischief we can conjure.”

  “Conjure,” Sarah repeated solemnly. “This feel like the devil’s work we be doing. I fear the prodigious sins I commit in this new world. Have I become too lost in the wood for redemption?”

  Ayotunde nodded. “Aye. If we be sent back to the Salem Village and be hanged, they be righteous hangin’s for sure.”

  “No, no, no,” Hazel said, worrying she was starting to lose them. “Those hangings were bogus, complete ideological horseshit. History proves that. Look. I know in your Puritan belief system that sorcery and mystical powers were interpreted solely as the work of Lucifer, but you have to understand something. Just like evil can manifest these powers, so can good. It’s the only defense we have. Conjuring them so good can prevail isn’t a sinful act, not if it will save humanity from its final descent into destruction.” She pointed to the headline inside the newspaper bin. “And recently, it seems the descent has kicked into warp speed.”

  Sarah studied Hazel for a moment, then nodded. “My faith be in you, Hazel. Instruct us.”

  After one more glance at the troubling headline, Hazel led them down Bourbon Street in search of a base of operations. Although it was early by normal bar standards, the open-air clubs and cafés lining the street teemed with tourists and spilled bluegrass music and people out onto the sidewalk and off the curb in equal proportion.

  “This is ridiculous,” Hazel said. “We’re never going to find a place to sit.” She stopped and looked at her shoes resting in a puddle of something offensive. Noticing a drunken couple sitting at a round table sipping blue slushy drinks in tall plastic tubes, she tapped Ayotunde on the shoulder. “What do you say you start practicing your power to compel right now?”

  Ayotunde smiled knowingly and turned toward the oblivious couple, her eyes boring into them. Hazel leaned eagerly into Sarah as they awaited the results. Ayotunde’s index fingers made one swift flicking motion, and seconds later, the couple got up and staggered off.

  “Yes,” Hazel hissed and offered them both high fives, which she had to teach them how to do.

  Ayotunde stared at her hands as they sat around the table. She looked at Hazel with sudden sadness. “Had I known of this power, I would save my blessed mother from the slave traders.”

  Hazel placed her hand over Ayotunde’s. “I know you would’ve.”

  Sarah held her other hand. “Ayotunde, you were but a child of six when you and your mother were captured and sold to those vicious heathens masquerading as Christians. You mustn’t wallow in regret.”

  “They separate us not long after.”

  Hazel and Sarah exchanged glances of unspoken shame and indignation. Hazel opened her mouth to speak but knew her words would ring hollow.

  “’Twas my father who purchased you, stripping you from your mother’s arms,” Sarah finally said.

  Hazel grew queasy at the confirmation that one of her ancestors had indeed owned another human being. She shifted in her chair, wondering where their drink server was.

  “Aye, but your father treat me kindly, Sarah. He be strict, but I never felt no crack of the whip in his house. I think it be a blessing he take me in.”

  Hazel shook her head in disgust. “Only in the good old American system of institutionalized slavery can a person feel gratitude toward a kind master.”

  “A devout Puritan my father was and a good man as well,” Sarah said. “He taught me reading. He believed girls had minds for contemplation despite the instruction of the Scripture.”

  “That explains so much about you, Sarah,” Hazel said. How awesome that the seeds of feminism were apparently sprinkled far back through her lineage. What would Sarah be able to accomplish today if she were born in Hazel’s generation?

  Sarah smiled. “’Tis is a relief to sit, but my thirst doth rankle me.”

  Hazel pretended to think. “Hmm…if only there was a way to get a server over here.”

  Ayotunde smiled and glanced at a woman carrying a tray laden with cocktails, who instantly changed direction toward them.

  “Bonjour. What can I get ya gals?” the server said in a slightly strained voice.

  “Let’s make it easy,” Hazel said. “Hurricanes all around.” She felt sorry for the woman as she started to struggle balancing the heavy tray.

  She turned back to Sarah and Ayotunde in time to catch their eyes locked on each other. She wasn’t sure if the thick heat blanketing her was from the sweaty mob of tourists or the sexual tension simmering between them. She cleared her throat to remind them of her presence.

  Sarah broke the gaze and noted her surroundings. “This city doth have its charms.”

  “And its foulness,” Ayotunde said, waving a hand in front of her nose.

  “Hashtag life below sea level,” Hazel replied and flared her nostrils at the aroma wafting from the street. “I know what we need. How does a gentle breeze to cleanse the rancid air sound?”

  Sarah and Ayotunde nodded with enthusiasm.

  Instead of concentrating and willing the breeze to kick up slowly and steadily, Hazel wound her arm up like a Division I college softball pitcher. A gust of wind roared down the street, knocking over loaded garbage cans, clearing tables of their napkins and drinks, and sending the sundress of a woman who’d made the unfortunate decision to go commando sailing above her waist. When everyone around them stopped screaming and regained their footing, Hazel sucked at her cheeks in embarrassment.

  Sarah smiled politely at her, then straightened her posture. “Hark. I believe our wench doth approach with a strange blue potion.”

  Ayotunde covered her mouth over a smile. “Miss Hazel, the next time you conjure the wind, we batten down the hatches first.”

  They all giggled. Hazel raised her hurricane drink in agreement and took a long sip until she felt the glorious stab of brain freeze. “I’m gonna take a break and work on my technique. In the meantime, Sarah, you can razzle-dazzle us.”

  As soon as Sarah sipped her drink, her entire face puckered in horror. “What infernal potion hath the wench proffered?”

  Hazel laughed heartily as she brought the drink to her mouth. Before her lips could make contact with the straw, all three of their drinks floated away toward the gutter and upended into the sewer.

  Hazel was shocked. “What are you doing, Sarah? Do you know how much those cost?”

  “Aye. The price of our souls be a steep one.” Sarah guzzled a glass of water.

 
; “Okay. You guys are sticking with wine from now on,” Hazel said and tried to signal for their waitress.

  Ayotunde tapped Sarah on the arm and pointed to an argument brewing in the street in front of them. “That angry man be hollering at the women.”

  Hazel stood as she saw an apparently intoxicated guy yelling at two young women. “Where are those cops we saw on horseback before?”

  Sarah shrugged as she continued staring at the altercation.

  “We should do something,” Hazel said.

  “Pray, be still,” Sarah said, holding out an arm to keep Hazel back.

  The man shoved one of the women, and Hazel and Ayotunde gasped. Sarah extended her arm, molded her fingers into a claw, and drew her arm back. As if he was attached to an invisible cord, he stumbled away from the women as the gathering onlookers cheered. Ayotunde then flicked her index finger at him as though he was a mosquito. He finally lost his footing and fell backward, landing in the remains of a horse manure pile.

  “Oh no, you didn’t,” Hazel said, covering her mouth in amusement. “We better go do our homework somewhere else before someone figures us out.”

  As they all turned to leave, Hazel twisted her arm in the air as though pulling something down from the sky. “We can’t leave him all soiled like that. It’s gross.” Rain began to pour only over him as he struggled, slipping and sliding, to his feet.

  Sarah grabbed Ayotunde by the hand, and they rushed through the throngs of people, riotous with laughter.

  When they arrived in front of Morgan’s house, they stopped when Hazel’s text went off. She smiled when she saw the words I’m okay. She was so happy to hear from Raven that she wasn’t even annoyed that that was all it said. She typed back I miss you so much, with a heart emoji before she had time to think better of it. She knew she shouldn’t have. Raven had made it abundantly clear that she wanted to remain friends only, but Hazel decided she’d deal with any and all consequences later.

  She shoved her phone in her pocket and looked up to see Sarah and Ayotunde linked in silhouette from head to toe. A sliver of moonlight filtered between them as they stroked each other’s faces and kissed.

  Hazel smiled and quietly disappeared through Morgan’s front gate.

  * * *

  After she and Ayotunde went up to their room, Sarah lit several candles. She knew she could press the light switch and illuminate the room much brighter, but after holding Ayotunde in her arms and kissing her for the first time under a starlit sky, the candlelight seemed more fitting. Ayotunde stood by the bed holding on to one of the posts. She licked her inviting lips, but her eyes reflected hesitation. Perhaps she was feeling the same as Sarah, warm and alive inside but marred with guilt and fear, as if they’d become lost within a maze of forbidden longing. Despite Hazel’s assurances that in these modern times, passionate love between a woman and her friend was accepted, her mind whirled at the opposition between what her heart wanted and the teachings that her faith had instilled in her.

  “I much enjoyed our kiss,” Sarah said from safely across the room.

  “Aye.” Ayotunde smiled. “It sent my heart soaring.”

  “Do you practice your power to compel now? On me?”

  Ayotunde bowed her head shyly. “My brain be too mixed up for conjurin’.”

  “Well then,” Sarah said as she started across the room. “I must confess that some other force doth strongly compel me to you.”

  “I feel it, too.”

  Ayotunde rushed to meet her halfway. They collided, and Sarah swept her into her arms and into a soul-searing kiss. The taste of Ayotunde’s lips whetted appetites brand-new to Sarah. She hadn’t ever known how badly she’d been starved until Ayotunde’s touch awakened such pangs of hunger in her.

  Abandoning everything, they dove into the delights of the flesh she’d been warned about all her life. Sarah traced the contour of Ayotunde’s strong jaw, her thumb lingering over her full bottom lip. She stared deeply into her eyes, ready to forsake the possibility of eternal salvation for this taste of euphoria they’d tumbled into together. How good it felt to succumb to the thing her heart had yearned for.

  “Nobody never kiss me like that before,” Ayotunde said. She licked her lips and stared at Sarah from under eyelids heavy with passion.

  “Though I be married some time, never have I felt the strength of a kiss such as with yours, Ayotunde. I do fear I’ve learned of the lust that our minister speak of, yet I want not to resist.”

  “Aye, Sarah. My body hunger so for you that nothing can frighten me away.” Ayotunde cradled Sarah’s face and lunged at her mouth as she guided her toward the bed.

  Sarah gasped at the excruciating pleasure of Ayotunde’s body pressing down on hers. Her tongue snaked into Ayotunde’s mouth like the serpent tempting Eve in paradise. An infernal flame of desire licked at the place between her legs that had been forbidden to anyone but her husband, but Ayotunde’s deep kisses weakened her into complete submission.

  Ayotunde sat up astride Sarah and pulled off her T-shirt, but it took both of them to claw at the vexing garment around her bosom Hazel called a sports bra. Once her breasts were freed from their confinement, Sarah reached up and received them like manna from heaven. Ayotunde’s nipples hardened under her fingertips, sending an ache rippling through Sarah’s nether region. When Sarah tightened her grip on her breasts and squeezed, Ayotunde moaned as though possessed.

  She rolled off her, and they proceeded to divest each other of every last stitch of their workout gear. Sarah’s fingers were wet as she stroked the silky gem she discovered between Ayotunde’s legs.

  Sarah groaned as Ayotunde’s hand mimicked her movements over and all around her secret place. She started breathing heavily as a swell of the most intense physical pleasure she’d ever experienced began building with such force, she could do nothing to stop it. She began crying out as her back arched, and their hands moved faster and harder in each other’s wetness. Screeches and moans shattered the silence of the room as the explosion of their dual pleasure shook them into convulsions.

  After their physical act, they lay in each other’s arms, spent, catching their breath. Sarah held Ayotunde tighter when she felt her fingers dancing across her stomach. She wanted to speak but couldn’t induce her mouth to form words. What words could possibly capture what she was feeling anyway? She lay still as part of her wanted this moment to last forever while the other part trembled in anticipation of what might happen next. She wanted Ayotunde again. Once had not been enough to satiate the need in her, but as Ayotunde caressed the inside of her thighs, she willed herself to be patient, biting her lip at the sweet torment.

  She wouldn’t have been surprised in the least if the floor opened up, and they plummeted, bed and all, into a fiery abyss, never to be heard from again. She waited, her eyes clenched shut in fear of what unspeakable horrors were about to consume them in the wake of God’s wrath.

  But nothing unspeakable occurred. Her eyes sprang open when Ayotunde let out a soft sigh, but that only signified the coming of sleep as she lay in Sarah’s arms. She began entertaining a notion that a trick might have been played on her in the past, one that had promised an eternity of prodigious suffering if one allowed herself to partake in earthly happiness rather than live a somber life of piety and self-sacrifice. What if that had not been what God intended for His children? What if ministers only spake with such fervency to keep the meetinghouse full and their pulpits secure?

  She shuddered at her abominable thoughts. Was lust so powerful that it had prompted her to question her religion? What could she know of God? Learned men who’d spent many a year studying the Word with eager devotion scantly understood His will. She enveloped Ayotunde tighter. All she knew was that the feeling Ayotunde filled her heart with was worth any consequence God saw fit to deliver.

  “Sarah, you tremble so,” Ayotunde whispered.

  “’Tis you who make me tremble,” she said with a smile.

  Ayotunde ran her finger
tips down Sarah’s cheek. “My love, I hold no talisman over you.”

  “Aye but you do.” Sarah shifted to look at her. “In my dreams, we have been this close, but always would I wake in terror, fearing the devil hath sent your spirit to tempt me into his wickedness.”

  Ayotunde raised up on her elbow in fright. “No, Sarah. My spirit no leave my body. I never torment you.”

  “Peace,” Sarah said, rubbing her back. “I know it be not so now. But my dreams of you would unsettle me so as Thomas lay next to me. I thought of no other way to explain such sinfulness in my heart.”

  “That be how they think in Salem Village. They don’ feel what we feel, Sarah. They too busy fearin’ what God gonna do to them each day. They blind to the joys in the world when they always lookin’ out for the devil.”

  Sarah lay in the peaceful darkness, stroking Ayotunde’s back before breaking the precious silence. “Madame le Fay says we must go back to Salem Village. That is the mission we are preparing for with Raven and Hazel.”

  “No, no.” Ayotunde frowned. “We help them send the demons back. We stay here and be free.”

  “Aye. We must beseech Madame le Fay to allow us to stay with Raven and Hazel. Now that I have you, I shall not let you go.”

  “Hold me, Sarah. Hold me with all your might.”

  She kissed Ayotunde until her frown dissolved into the warm look of desire she’d observed smoldering in Ayotunde’s eyes when they closed the bedroom door behind them.