by Emery, Lynn
“Humph, took you long enough to get here, girl.” The voice to her right had a playful lilt to it that LaShaun recognized. Her grandmother stood fanning herself with the straw hat. She wore denim overalls and a red shirt. Her hair was swept up in a blue and white bandanna, but flowed into a thick ponytail.
“Monmon Odette,” LaShaun said, her voice shaking. She put a hand over her mouth as tears fell.
“Now none of that. Do I look like I’m suffering?” Monmon Odette waved a hand as if dismissing her sorrow. “I wouldn’t come back to earth for nothing. Just look at my garden.”
In spite of her tears LaShaun burst out laughing. “You could at least pretend to miss me, you rascal.”
“Ah, just like the living. It’s all about you,” Monmon Odette quipped. Then she winked at LaShaun, which made her laugh again.
“Okay, Monmon. You got me on that one.” LaShaun ran to her grandmother and hugged her tightly. “I thought you’d tell me we couldn’t touch or maybe I’d be grabbing at air.”
Monmon Odette kissed LaShaun’s cheek and then stepped away. “Just this once, cher. But after…”
“I won’t be able to speak to you and touch you again, will I?” LaShaun gazed at her in wonder.
“Oui. Most don’t get that much. So you best have a good reason for waking the dead,” Monmon Odette teased, then laughed hard at her own joke.
LaShaun felt a bit disoriented. At once Monmon Odette seemed both close and far away. The colors surrounding sharpened as though lit from within. A sense of urgency pushed LaShaun forward.
“The loa is back, Monmon. I didn’t call on it this time, but it seems even stronger,” LaShaun started, but stopped when Monmon Odette raised her palm.
“Abiku,” Monmon Odette said firmly. “His name is Abiku, as told to me by one of the ancient ones. But… this is very important, girl. Say his name only at the right time or he will grow even stronger. He’ll take what you love.”
“He’s already taking someone dear to me, Monmon. I will fight back though,” LaShaun replied with force.
“You must. Or he will take someone even more precious.” Monmon Odette’s voice echoed ominously, and the sunshine dimmed.
“Please tell me more,” LaShaun pleaded. She felt as if a powerful fist had closed around her heart.
“Remember to fight smarter, not harder like I taught you.” Monmon Odette looked around on the ground. “Now where did I put it?”
“You have herbs, or some talisman to give me?”
“Ah-ha, here’s my hat.” Monmon Odette wore a wide grin as she put it on her head. She started off between the shrubs humming again.
“But wait, Monmon,” LaShaun called out. “You didn’t tell me when to say Abiku’s name or how to fight smarter. Is there some special prayer? Which saint will help me?”
“These days y’all got all them fancy machines like computers, tiny phones in your pockets and such. You’ll find out.” Monmon Odette faced LaShaun. “Your strength comes from the journey, cher.” The azalea shrubs quickly grew larger until Monmon Odette disappeared.
“Come back,” LaShaun shouted repeatedly, except her voice sounded no louder than a whisper.
The sound of a rushing wind drowned her words. She opened her eyes to find Miss Rose and the twins standing over her. Miss Rose stroked her forehead. Pauline held one hand, and Justine held the other. LaShaun realized she was lying on the sofa with a pillow under head. She tried to sit up, but Miss Rose pushed her back.
“You stay put a few more minutes, child,” Miss Rose said. She wore a look of concern.
LaShaun grew fearful when the three older women exchanged glances. “What happened to me?”
Justine said, “Let her sit up, but take it slow. Young ones always think they strong as a rock.”
“Oui,” Pauline agreed. They helped LaShaun sit up.
Miss Rose appeared with a glass of water. “Drink.”
After she took three sips, urged on by the women, LaShaun finally put the glass down. “So tell me what happened, please,” she added.
Pauline sat down next to LaShaun while the other two took chairs. “Reaching out to the spirit world is risky for more than one reason.”
“You see what they have in the movies and on them stupid reality shows—” Justine said with a grimace.
“Child, don’t get me started,” Miss Rose blurted.
“The living person who wants to reach out has a much stronger connection to the dead. So the spirit comes to them, sometimes even through them. Not us,” Pauline explained.
“All that nonsense about spirits speaking through the mouth of a so-called medium, pooh! That rarely happens. Only le bon Dieu has the power to move like that,” Justine broke in. She stopped when Pauline squinted at her. “Sorry. You go on, sister.”
“The last time I reached across the divide was over twenty years ago.” Pauline looked off as though distracted. Her sister took up the tale after a few moments of silence.
“A woman, Bettina Hebert was her name. She wanted to speak to her deceased mother. Something happened. We’re still not sure what kind of spirit took control. Bettina was never the same after that night. A year later she killed her husband and then shot herself in the head. Their eleven year old daughter found them. She sat with the bodies for days until a relative found her.”
“You think there’s a connection?” LaShaun shivered.
“We know there is,” Justine said quietly. She gazed at her sister. “Pauline blames herself.”
Pauline sighed when Justine put an arm around her shoulder. “I’m all right.”
“LaShaun, what did your grandmother say?” Miss Rose asked. The three women studied LaShaun.
“She teased me, just like she always did,” LaShaun said with a smile. “She looked so content that I can’t be sad, not anymore.”
“Good, good. This is better than we could have hoped. You weren’t harmed, and your grief has been eased.” Miss Rose sighed with relief. “Go on.”
“She called the spirit Abiku, and said he would take someone even more precious. But that doesn’t make sense, nor what she said at the end, that the journey will strengthen me.” LaShaun glanced around at each other women in turn. “I don’t understand at all.”
“Rose, you’re the history expert,” Justine said.
Without hesitation Miss Rose became a teacher once again. “Abiku is the Yoruba name for a type of demon. It comes from the myths of the old Kingdom of Dahomey. This kingdom had a female army unit called the Dahomey Amazons. They were said to be just as fierce in battle as the men.”
“Give us the short version,” Justine cautioned before Miss Rose could go on.
“I was getting back to the subject,” Miss Rose cracked in reply. “Abiku is cunning and deceitful, like all demons.”
When the normally talkative women said nothing, LaShaun leaned forward. “Tell me everything.”
“There is a lot we don’t know…” Miss Rose’s voice trailed off. She looked at the twins as though seeking back-up.
“The more often a demon is called on, the stronger it gets,” Pauline said softly.
“Feeding on the human vices; greed, envy, hate, and other emotions; can give power to wickedness,” Pauline added.
“And why we’re hesitant to call on spirits. These demons wait for portals to open up so they can jump through,” Justine said.
“Then we’re in serious trouble. Look at all these psychics and reality show ghost hunters calling on ‘em,” LaShaun said. “No wonder all manner of evil is bustin’ loose in the world.”
“Most of that stuff is fake,” Justine retorted and waved a hand dismissing her worries.
“A few get messages from beyond, but they don’t have the true gift to make an opening between the worlds. They just talking to spirits that haven’t moved on yet,” Pauline said.
“Merci le bon Dieu,” Miss Rose murmured. (Thank the good God).
“Idiots,” Justine added as additional commentary.
>
LaShaun looked at Miss Rose. “So Abiku is the real name of this loa or spirit?”
“He’s probably called himself many names through the ages. No matter the name, he’s a menace to our world,” Miss Rose replied gravely.
“What did Monmon mean when she said the journey would make me stronger? LaShaun felt even more confused.
“Finding the answers and stretching your gifts to the limit will give you the power needed to beat this demon,” Miss Rose said, with the twins nodding agreement.
“Okay. Then there’s her riddle about Abiku going after someone even more precious to me. I don’t understand. Monmon Odette is gone, and so is my mama. That just leaves Chase.” LaShaun gazed at the older women.
Miss Rose sighed. “Cher, there is another part of the Dahomey legend about Abiku. He steals children.”
“But I don’t have children,” LaShaun said.
“Are you sure you’re not pregnant, child?” Pauline said softly.
LaShaun instinctively placed a hand on her lower abdomen. “I’m not pregnant.”
“Sister, could it be?” Justine looked at Pauline.
“Sure could,” Justine agreed with a nod. They both stared at LaShaun.
LaShaun felt cold fear creep up her spine. The familiar tingling sensation started at the base of her neck and spread over her body. “Monmon Odette told me not long before she died that I’d have children one day.”
The women started chattering in Louisiana Creole French all at once, hands flying as they gestured to each other. They spoke too fast, and LaShaun wasn’t as fluent as the older generation. Besides, LaShaun sat too stunned by the realization of a deadly threat to her unborn babies to demand they translate.
“Stop, stop!” Miss Rose commanded. Her friends fell silent. “You’re right, LaShaun. There is more at work here than one demon stirring up a bit of mischief.”
“Wheels within wheels,” the twins murmured in unison and gazed at each other with matching grim expressions.
LaShaun thought about all that was at stake, and not just for her. She stood with both hands on her hips. “I fought him once, and sent him away. I’m going to do it again.”
Justine jumped to her feet. “That’s the way, girl. We can’t let the devil’s stinky minions run amok.”
“We’ll be your back-up team, especially if we need to have a prayer circle. I know two others we can call on.” Miss Rose grinned when LaShaun’s eyes went wide. “Oui, cher, we network with others who have special gifts.”
Justine clapped her hands with glee. “We’re usually so isolated, well except Pauline and I have each other.”
“When you’re not squabbling or giving each other the silent treatment,” Miss Rose quipped.
“We always make up. Eventually,” Justine said with a wink.
Pauline still wore a grimace of anxiety. “There is something else you must know, LaShaun. Remember I told you that Bettina Hebert had a child, a daughter?”
“Yes,” LaShaun replied.
Pauline turned to LaShaun with a look of expectation and waited. Seconds ticked by marked by the old clock in the hallway. “Bettina Robillard Hebert, from a fine old family out of Natchitoches Parish. Her daughter’s name is…”
“Allison, and now she’s Allison Graham. Greg’s mother,” LaShaun said.
“Wheels within wheels,” the three older women whispered in sync.
Chapter 13
That night Chase gave a satisfied sigh and swiped his mouth of crumbs. “That was some mighty fine meatloaf, darlin’. Good old-fashioned comfort food after a hard day.”
LaShaun sat across from him at the table in her kitchen. Right outside the soft yellow curtains of the bay window, nightfall had covered her property in darkness. Yet she felt no foreboding presence. That wasn’t assuring. Abiku, or whatever he called himself in this century, was out rambling around stirring up trouble. LaShaun stared at Chase for at least the fifth time since he’d come in, looking for signs.
“I’m glad you liked it. You don’t seem to have lost your appetite. You wiped up just about every drop of tomato gravy with that garlic roll.”
“Correction, with three garlic rolls,” Chase joked with a wink. “I went six hours without sitting down. Only food I had was a cup of weak coffee and half a biscuit. I rolled non-stop.”
“You must be exhausted then.” LaShaun said. He didn’t look the least bit worn out. His eyes shined with alertness, too bright for her comfort.
“I feel great. Must be this home cooking you’re feeding me,” Chase said. “Nah, I’ll probably crash in a little while. You’ll be jammin’ your elbow in my ribs ‘cause I’m snoring on your sofa.”
“You can snore on my sofa or anywhere else you like. You work hard. Just go relax while I clean up.” LaShaun stacked his plate on hers.
Chase picked up the serving dishes with fresh snap beans, more slices of meatloaf, and roasted new potatoes. He balanced all of them with the grace of a waiter. “Well it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to be one of those men who expect their wives to do everything around the house.”
“I appreciate the gesture, cher. Now go on and park in front of the television this time. I’m just going to load the dishwasher. No need to feel guilty.” LaShaun got busy filling containers with leftovers. “I can make you a sandwich for lunch tomorrow. Maybe put a little green salad in with it.”
“Sounds like a plan. Thank you.”
Chase watched LaShaun work for a few seconds. He played with the satellite radio awhile until he found an all news station. Perched on one of the stools on the long granite countertop, he flipped through the local paper. Anyone observing would have thought it a normal, warm domestic tableau. Yet LaShaun kept darting surreptitious looks at Chase. Once she loaded the dishwasher, LaShaun made him a meatloaf sandwich and a small bowl of salad. She placed both in the fridge and turned to find Chase standing near her. He put both large hands on her shoulders.
“You wanna tell me what’s bothering you?” Chase said quietly.
Something in his voice gave LaShaun chills. There was a foreign and not quite warm tenor to it that caused her to pull back. Chase moved with her. “I worry about you working so hard, and all the craziness you’re dealing with. I think…”
“Go on.” Chase placed a forefinger beneath LaShaun’s chin and made her look up into his eyes.
“You’ve changed, a little,” she said.
“M.J. has been talking to you, maybe even my sisters?” Chase looped a strong arm around her shoulders. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with me that more time off with my baby and less time with knuckle-heads wouldn’t cure.” Chase led her to the sofa and they sat down. He picked up the remote control for the television, but didn’t turn it on.
“Are you finding that your temper is short lately? Do you think differently about your job, like the people you work with and the suspects you arrest?” LaShaun warmed to the subject now that he’d opened it.
Chase laughed. “You sound like a commercial for some kind of herbal tonic.”
“Answer the questions, please,” she said firmly. “There are strange happenings around here lately, Chase. I have to ask.”
Chase startled her when he jumped to his feet. A deep scowl transformed his handsome face from the mirth he’d shown only seconds before. Then he paced in a circle. “I just wish everybody would leave me the hell alone. I’ve got a job to do, and I’m doing it better than any damn body in the whole Sheriff’s station. A bunch of freakin’ idiots, and that goes for M.J. for listening to Dave or whoever else is after me.”
“Chase, listen…”
“No, I’m not going to let you or anyone stop me from taking over. This parish needs a strong hand. Why are we chasing down petty crooks anyway? Let ‘em kill each other. Who cares if a bunch of whores are hanging out in those dump motels along Indian Bayou? We got more important things to do like lettin’ everybody know who’s the damn boss in Vermilion Parish.” Chase stopped, leaned forward and planted bot
h hands on the sofa back on either side of LaShaun. “Are you on my side or against me, with them?”
LaShaun breathed hard at the aggression in his dark eyes, and the demand in his question. She whispered a two line prayer in Creole French that Monmon Odette had taught her. Then she stood, forcing him to back up. “I’m always for you, cher. When did you start doubting me?”
Chase blinked rapidly, and the color drained from his face. He closed his eyes for a few seconds. When he opened them again his breathing seemed labored. LaShaun braced her body against his as he seemed about to topple over. Somehow she managed to ease his six feet two frame onto the sofa. She rubbed his cheeks. The cold feel of his skin terrified her.
“What the hell is…” Chase couldn’t go on. He blew out air in sharp puffs as he tried to catch his breath.
“Think about your family. Remember who you are, connect to good memories.”
LaShaun hated to leave him, but she needed her grandmother’s rosary. She kissed his forehead and both sides of his face. Then she hurried into the small parlor. There she retrieved a Catholic prayer book published in nineteen twelve. Monmon Odette had found it at a plantation estate sale. She’d told the six year old LaShaun that it had power. If ever she needed the power of goodness, LaShaun needed it now. In two seconds she retrieved her grandmother’s rosary from its resting place beside the family Bible. When she returned to the den, Chase sat doubled over. LaShaun ran to him and dropped to her knees.
“I bind this evil one with the same bonds our merciful Lord bound the gates of hell. I call on our protector, our creator to deliver his child from the chains of this demon, for he has no power in the face of our Lord,” LaShaun spoke the words rapidly as she cradled Chase’s head against her neck.
“What in the world are you mumbling? Stop it!” Chase said with effort. The stranger in his voice had returned.
“No,” LaShaun replied and continued praying. She stayed on her knees holding Chase for what seemed like hours. Yet when she finally looked at the wall clock only ten minutes had gone by.
Chase pulled LaShaun into a tight embrace. “I’m okay now. I promise to eat better and get more rest.”
