The Lovely Shadow

by Cory Hiles

  June asked. The black woman kept howling with laughter and waved one hand as if shooing away a troublesome pest, or waving ‘bye-bye’; I shook my head and kept smiling.

  June was still smiling but cocked her head and looked quizzically at the snorting, guffawing woman beside me.

  “Just what have I missed in here? What’s so funny?” June asked.

  The round black woman tried to regain enough composure to tell the story but only managed to say between snorts and giggles, “Dis boy come runnin’ tru dem door like he got da devil behin’ hisself—hee hee hee—and den him see me stannin’ here and it scare de bejeezus outta him, an’ him done—hee hee—him done throwed on da brakes and lands hisself right on his butt—ha ha ha—and den him done slide across da floor, an say him done busted his butt! Ha ha ha.”

  June interpreted the string of babble much better than I ever could have and laughed along with the black woman. After a moment though she regained her composure and introduced us properly.

  “Johnny, this is Lillian,” she said gesturing towards the black woman. “She’s been my close friend and part time housekeeper for about a million years now. And now that you’re gonna live here, she’s my full time housekeeper and part time babysitter.”

  I looked up at Lillian, who was finally done laughing and held out my hand and said, “Hello, Lillian, I’m pleased to meet you.”

  She swallowed my frail hand in her strong, but soft and meaty one and initiated a firm handshake. I was able to hold back the grimace that wanted to spread across my face as she squeezed my sore fingers but she seemed to sense my pain anyway and reduced the firmness of her grasp.

  “Child,” she said smiling, “you jes’ call me Miss Lilly. Dat’s what dey all call me. An’ you not got no-ting to worry ‘bout; dem fingers ain’t broke…an’ neither is you’s butt!”

  At the last word she broke out into a fresh explosion of laughter, released my hand and turned back to the stove to continue cooking, muttering something about broken butts.

  When Miss Lilly went back to her cooking, June crossed the kitchen and put her hands on my shoulders, squatted down to my eye level and said, “Hey Toots, I’ve gotta go into town today and talk to the police about what happened at your mom’s house. Then I’m gonna go to some other places to try and get them to let you stay with me, ok?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, the reason I’m telling you this is because I need you to stay here with Miss Lilly while I’m gone. I don’t know how many places I’ll have to go, or how long I’ll be gone and I can’t really take you along to some of the places. Will you be ok here with Lilly?”

  I looked around at Miss Lilly and saw her looking back at me with a big toothy smile and knew that I’d be just fine here with her. “I’ll be fine, June, thanks.”

  June smiled at me and gave me a hug which I returned earnestly. The she stood up and said to Miss Lilly, “Lilly thank you so much for helping me with this. I really can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done and all you’re doing.”

  Miss Lilly smiled at June and said “Don’choo worry you’s pretty head ‘bout none o’ dat, June-bug.”

  The way she pronounced June sounded like Zjune; pronouncing the first consonant sounds like the name Zja Zja.

  “You jes’ get you’s self outta de house and down de street and make sure dat nobody does nutin’ else to hurt de boy.” She reached out and patted my head as she said the last part.

  “An’ June-bug?”

  “Yes Lilly?” June responded.

  “Take some bacon witchoo. You be gettin’ too damn skinny. You be makin’ it to look like Miss Lilly done been eatin’ all de food an’ not be savin’ none fo’ nobody else.

  Miss Lilly handed June a paper towel wrapped around a large handful of bacon and kissed June’s cheek. The she pushed her towards the door and said, “Now go on, get out there, an’ do some magic on dem stuffy shirts an’ make dem keep de boy here.”

  Miss Lilly cocked her head towards me and winked before continuing, “I like de boy, him funny; him make me laugh like a jack-o-lantern full o’ wacky weed.’

  Miss Lilly laughed at her joke that made no sense to me, and turned back to the stove to finish cooking breakfast, while June bent down and kissed my forehead and said, “Ok Toots, wish me luck.”

  “Good luck, June” I said while eyeing her handful of bacon desirously. June told me she loved me, and I loved to hear it. I told her I loved her back, and with that she rushed out of the house.

  CHAPTER 15

  Miss Lilly finished cooking only a few short moments after June left and instructed me to wash my hands and go set at the table, which I had apparently ran right past without seeing on my mad dash through the house to the kitchen earlier.

  I washed up in the kitchen sink and exited the kitchen through the saloon style doors and saw that there was a nice sized dining area just beyond the kitchen, set apart from the living room area only by décor, since it was part of the same great-room.

  I sat down and waited for Miss Lilly who came trundling out a few moments later with a rolling metal cart that had several trays of with food on it. As she placed the food on the table I couldn’t help staring at it like a dog begging for a treat.

  There was a veritable mountain of bacon, two dozen sausage links, a stack of toast with strawberry jelly, orange slices, a carafe of orange juice, a jug of milk, and a big stack of pancakes that were drenched in butter with a bottle maple syrup sitting beside it.

  Miss Lilly produced two plates, two forks, and two butter knives from the deep pocket on the front of her apron and set them all down on the table, one setting in front of me, and the other in front of her. Then she pulled out her chair and sat down across from me.

  I was desperate to tear into the bounty that was placed before me, but I didn’t want to seem rude or impertinent, so I just sat there fidgeting and waiting for her to make the first move so I could follow suit.

  Miss Lilly just looked at me, grinning. Her impish grin lit up her whole round face and was very pleasant to behold, but did nothing to satisfy my hunger. Deciding that one of the two of us needed to get the ball rolling I decided to offer my honest thanks for the meal set before me, hoping that we were only waiting for pleasantries to be exchanged so we could eat.

  “Thank you, Miss Lilly, for the food. It looks delicious.”

  Miss Lilly smiled warmly and replied, “Tanks be in order, Child, but not to me. Miss Lilly only cook de food—she get paid to cook de food—but Miss Lilly don’ be makin’ de food. De Lord be makin de food, Child, an’ Him de one dat we be needin’ to tank.”

  I thought about it for a second, trying to catch her meaning.

  “You mean, like… praying?” I asked.

  “Dat be exactly what I be meanin’, Child. Now you be lookin’ like you be ready to eat de butt off a dead skunk, on account you’s bein’ so hungry. So I tink dat maybe you’s best be gettin’ to de Lord tankin so’s we can eat; don’choo tink?”

  I was nervous. I’d only barely ever prayed, and didn’t know how it was supposed to be done. I’d seen people on the television pray before and decided that I’d try mimicking what I’d seen.

  “Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name…Umm…. Give us our daily bread, and umm….deliver us. Amen?”

  I looked up at Miss Lilly hopefully. Hoping not only that I’d said enough to earn my breakfast, but also that I hadn’t offended her with my complete lack of holy communication skills.

  Miss Lilly was smiling so sweetly that I was pretty confident that I hadn’t offended her, but she was not reaching for food just yet.

  “Child,” she said in a compassionate tone, “you don’ need be prayin’ like what you tink you’s s’posed to be prayin’ like. You need to be prayin’ de truth! You need to be tellin’ de Lord wha’choo really be feelin’ inside. You need to be talkin’ to God like Him be you’s frien’, not like Him be a stranger. Now try again, Boo.”

  I had no idea
what ‘Boo’ meant, but I liked the sound of it, and as for the rest of her speech, I liked it as well. It made sense to me. Miss Lilly’s reassuring demeanor gave me the courage to try again, with my own words and feelings.

  “Lord, thank you for the food. Thank you for letting June find me. Thank you for my warm bed last night. Thank you for the toilet I got to use this morning. Thank you for Miss Lilly and her cooking. Thank you for keeping me safe. Thank you for my new home. Thank you for June trying to make it so I can live here. Thank you for…”

  Miss Lilly cut me off, laughing as she spoke. “Child, dat’s enough tankin’ fo’ one meal fo’ sho’! De food’s is gonna get cold an’ mushy if we don’ get to eatin’ em soon.”

  “Amen,” I said with finality and a smile, feeling exceptionally good about having finally thanked God properly for many of the good things that had happened in my life. I still had more thanking that needed to be done, but I figured there would be other meals for that.

  Miss Lilly looked at me very sternly and said, “Now Child, dis here’s what Miss Lilly’s Mama say—she say dat when dey’s food on de table, it be time fo’ eatin’ an dey be plenty o’ time fo’ talkin’ when de burpin’ be done. You be gettin’ my meanin’, Boo?”

  I stifled a giggle and nodded my head. I got her meaning loud and clear, and was eager to open my mouth only for the purpose of shoveling food into it; which I did shortly after nodding.

  Miss Lilly was true to her mama’s rule and spoke not a single word while we were eating. She finished eating before I did and she let out a huge belch and then just simply sat quietly, watching me eat, taking obvious pleasure in my enjoyment of her cooking.

  When I finally pushed my plate away I was afraid that perhaps I’d overdone it and might have made myself sick. Miss Lilly sat silently across the table, staring at me and twirling her hand in a ‘come on’ gesture.

  I didn’t get her meaning at first, but soon caught on when she started making facial gestures to help with the charades. I let out the loudest, longest belch I’d ever burped in my life and felt instant relief from the pressure in my belly. The burp was so loud and large that it actually startled me and I reflexively threw a hand over my mouth as I gasped.

  Miss Lilly barked her raucous laugh and clapped her hands a few times and said, “Child, I don’ know what I’m gonna do wit you. You keep makin’ me to laughin’ like dis an’ I’m gonna bust a seam an’ spill my guts all over de floor.”

  I smiled comfortably, pleased to be in the presence of such an appealing lady. Feeling safe and comfortable with her I dared to ask a question that had been bugging me since our handshake.

  “Miss Lilly, how did you know about my fingers when we shook hands?”

  “I could feel dem healin’ in you, Child. There be an energy dat flow through de body all de time. When de body be healin’, den dat energy be gettin’ hotter an’ movin’ faster. I could feel dat energy, spinnin’ roun’ and roun’ in you’s hand.”

  “But de energy be flowin’—not shakin’. When de bone be broken, de energy can no’ flow, it be gettin’ all hung up in de broken bones, makin’ de energy bounce and shake.”

  I was able to picture the energy flow clearly in my head, and it made sense that it could get snagged up in a fracture, but I still couldn’t understand how she knew that I didn’t know whether they were broken or not, so I asked her.

  Miss Lilly laughed quietly and said, “Dat, Child, was just a guess. Miss Lilly can no’ read de mind, or see de future, but she make a pretty good guesser, and pretty good jambalaya too!”

  I smiled at Miss Lilly and asked what Jambalaya was. It had become pretty rare for me to hear or read a word I was unfamiliar with, but this was a new one and I was eager to learn it.

  Miss Lilly took obvious pride in her particular recipe for Jambalaya, and though she would not reveal the exact recipe, she gave me enough details to understand that it was a dish containing chicken, sausage, seafood, vegetables, stock, and rice.

  Ever the curious one, I continued to press Miss Lilly for more information. “How were you able to feel the energy flowing? I can’t feel it, and it’s in my body.”

  Miss Lilly dropped her voice and spoke in a reverential tone. “Dat, Child, be de work o’ de spirits. I pray to de spirits, and de spirits come, an’ when dey comes, dey brings dey powers wit dem and dey share dey power wit me.”

  I was confused. I had thought Miss Lilly was a Christian, judging from the way she’d had me pray over the meal. I didn’t know much about Christianity, but I knew enough to know that people didn’t usually pray to spirits. They prayed to Jesus, or to God, but praying to other spirits was kind of taboo.

  I asked Miss Lilly, “Aren’t you Christian, Miss Lilly? I thought Christians were only supposed to pray to God or Jesus.”

  Miss Lilly laughed and said, “Child, dey be many folks be sayin’ dey Christian, o’ dey Baptist, o’ they dis, o’ dey dat, but dey all be missin’ sum-ting. I don’ be callin’ myself none o’ dat. I only be callin’ myself ‘Miss Lilly’, an’ dat be ‘nuff fo’ me to be happy.”

  “I don’ be needin’ to be nuthin’ mo’ den what I is; an’ what I is, is a woman who be doin’ de Voodoo an’ de Hoodoo an’ who be lovin’ de Lord too.”

  I recoiled in shock and fear. “Voodoo’s evil!” I said. “People who do Voodoo curse people, and make zombies, and stab needles into little dolls to hurt people!”

  Miss Lilly smiled and shook her head as she explained. “No, Child, dat’s no’ de truth. Mos’ folks is scared o’ de Voodoo an’ de Hoodoo because dey don’ understand it. If dey took de time to understand it, dey would no’ be scared no mo’.”

  I still had my doubts, but being ever eager to learn new things, I listened as she continued to explain.

  “It be true dat dey be some dark magic in de Voodoo, an’ in de Hoodoo, but mos’ o’ de people who practice de Voodoo don’ never wan’ no-ting to do wit de black stuff, dey only wan’ to be doin de blessin’. Now we be doin’ de blessin’ wit de gris-gris, an’ wit de ju ju, an’ wit de help o’ de spirits.”

  I asked her what ‘gris-gris and ‘ju ju’ were, pronouncing them the way she had as ‘gree-gree and ju ju’.

  “De gris-gris,” She said, “is de charm dat we be makin’ for to give someone a blessin’, it be a bag dat got’s de magic in it wit de roots, an’ herbs, an’ bones an’ such. Then dependin’ on what kinda blessin’ de person be needin’, sometime we need to ask de spirits to be blessin de bag to make de magic stronger, or sometime we jes’ leave de stuff in de bag to do de blessin’ all by itself wit de spells we done cast on it while we was makin’ de bag.”

  “Dat be de gris-gris. Now de ju ju, dat be fo’ blessin’ too, but dat be de doll dat we be makin’ to look like de person we wan’ be blessin’. Everbody be tinkin’ dat we be stickin’ dem pins in de dolls to be hurtin’ folks—an’ sometime dat be true—but we mos’ly be usin’ dem pins to be makin’ de doll de same as de folks we be blessin’.”

  My confusion must have showed plainly on my face because Miss Lilly furrowed her eyebrows slightly as if deciding how to proceed and then continued with a more thorough explanation.

  “We be stickin’ dey picture, o’ dey name to de doll wit de pin, den dat doll be a part o’ dat person, an’ de blessin’ be goin’ right straight up to dat person an’ swallowin’ dem up in goodness like a snake swallowin’ a rat.”

  When she told me that most of the weird stuff in her branch of Voodoo was really just for blessing people, not for doing anything evil, I couldn’t help but believe her. There was no darkness in this woman; only a radiant love that shone like light, and I trusted her completely. I still did not see how Voodoo and Jesus could comingle, however, so I asked about that next.

  “Child,” She said not unkindly, “you got mo’ questions den a gator got’s teeth.”

  I smiled and nodded my head. I was well aware of my rampant curiosity.

  “Well, lemme see if I can ‘splain it in
a way dat you be understandin’… Mos’ folks, dey got de Jesus, an’ dey happy wit dat. But dey never knows dat dey be missin’ sumptin’. There’s much mo’ to de supernatural world den just de Jesus. But if de Jesus make dem happy, den dat’s jes’ fine as frog hair, but for we dat be doin’ de Voodoo, we know what dem folks be missin’.”

  “Why, havin’ yo’ whole world wrapped up in jes’ de Jesus, dat be like makin’ a gumbo wit jes’ de crawdaddies. Dem crawdaddies be tastin’ good a’right, an’ dey be fillin’ up you’s belly, but dat ain’t no gumbo, an’ it be tastin’ a whole lot better when you be tossin’ in some shrimp, an’ pepper, an’ Andouille sausage, an’ bay leaves, an’ all kinda other stuff. Once you do dat, den you got youself some gumbo, fo’ sho’!”

  I asked her what she thought it was that the ‘Christians’ were missing and she began to regale me with stories about how she can bless her dead relatives, or ask them for guidance, about how she can get the spirits to influence blessings and curses, how the spirits can mediate between the earthly and the divine, and of many other happenings of an invisible spirit world that we could not see, but which existed all around us.

  I was transfixed by her explanations of Voodoo. I found it fascinating and terrifying at the same time. I asked her if June knew about her Voodoo and what she thought of it.

  Miss Lilly’s eyes lit up with pride and adoration as she spoke about June.

  “I be knowin’ June-bug since she was jes’ a tiny bébé, crawlin’ roun’, suckin’ on her lil’ noonie. An’ even when she be dat small she was full o’ de joie de vivre—de joy of living.”

  I couldn’t help interrupting at this point. “If you’ve known her that long, then you must have known my mother too, right?”

  Miss Lilly’s eyes darkened, as if a storm cloud passed over them. Her tone was icy when she spoke again.

  “Yeah, I know’d her too, but she was no’ like June-bug. June was bein’ full o’ life, an’ laughter; full o’ love fo’ all de people and tings aroun’ her, but you’s mama, she be on’y full o’ herself. She not be carin’ one bit ‘bout anyting but herself. Now, I don’ wan’ be talkin’ bad ‘bout nobody’s mama, so let’s be getting back to talkin’ ‘bout de June-bug, ok?”