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Spellbound: a Tale of Magic, Mystery & Murder

Page 7

by Louise Ann Barton

CHAPTER 6 - THE FUNERAL

  Time passed quickly and, between his job at the hotel and the birth of the new baby, Jose nearly forgot about Julia and her shells. Then Maria’s brother came to their home for the first time, just before breakfast. Ramon was a small, wiry man with a thin mustache and a short beard. His features were sharp and his eyes had a strange, furtive look.

  Jose took one look at his new brother-in-law and knew something was wrong. Despite their recent marriage and new baby, this was the first time Ramon had visited them and he soon made it plain that this wasn’t a social call.

  "Mother is dying. I must tell Maria," Ramon announced. He pushed rudely past Jose and intruded into the tiny back room where Luis slept, while Maria folded clothes.

  "Maria, our mother . . .," Ramon began.

  Maria looked up, tears already streaming silently down her sweet face.

  "I know, Ramon, I know," she whispered. "I saw her in my dreams."

  Ramon looked startled at the mention of dreams, but quickly recovered. He reached out and grabbed Maria’s slender wrist. The baby began to stir on the bed.

  "The time has come, Maria. You must choose!" She tried to break free, but Ramon pressed on. "If you don’t want it, my sister, I do!" Little Luis woke up and began to cry. Jose started forward. "The power must stay within the family," Ramon hissed as Jose drew alongside him.

  Jose felt himself becoming uncontrollable, and then he remembered Jacob’s teachings. He put his hand gently, but firmly, on Ramon’s. "Of course, you will be staying for breakfast." Ramon released his grip and stepped back. Maria took up the baby and buried her face in Luis’ small, warm, neck.

  "Be at the funeral," Ramon instructed Maria. "You are expected! It is Itutu! You are one of the nine!" Then he whirled, rudely pushing past Jose a second time as he made his exit. As Jose reached the front door, Ramon was pulling away in an old Chevy. "She’s expected!" Ramon shouted as he drove off.

  Jose wasted a moment shaking his fist after Ramon, then returned to the back room. Maria was weeping softly and hugging the baby. Jose put his arms around his little family. He rested his cheek against Maria’s. "Are you all right?"

  She nodded, whispering, "I must go to Santiago, Jose. It is Itutu. I must be part of the ceremony."

  "What is Itutu?" he asked.

  "The ceremony for the death of a Santera," she replied. They sat together on the bed and cuddled the baby. "It is a very important ceremony, a year long. The first of three rituals begins on the day the Santera dies. Upon the day of my mother’s death, my family will be sealing her burial place. This is done so we may show respect to her departing spirit. I must hurry."

  Seeing Jose's puzzled look, Maria explained patiently, "I am one of the chosen nine family members who will perform the first ritual. The ceremony of Oya, owner of the cemetery. It is so the soul will agree to leave the living in peace and not remain to hunt us down."

  Jose nodded slowly. "She is your mother, Maria. I will ask Jacob to borrow the hotel taxi long enough to drive you to Santiago." He jumped off the bed and hurried from the house.

  Maria placed the baby gently on the bed and began to change her dress. By the time she'd packed a suitcase, Jose had returned. They bundled into the taxi and, within 30 minutes of Ramon’s visit, the little family was headed for the funeral. It was to be an experience that Jose, a devout Christian, would never forget.

  They were to stay, he was told, with Maria’s Aunt Carolina, a fat, jolly woman, and the only relative in Santiago who had a separate room where they could sleep. "And it is a room with a door we can close," his wife announced proudly.

  Maria’s younger cousin, Nilda, was delighted with little Luis and took over his complete care during the visit. Maria, of course, went straight to the Itutu. Jose, being an outsider, was not permitted to take part in the initial ceremony, which would last for three days. When he heard there was to be a second ceremony on the ninth day and a third ceremony a year later, he decided to go back to the hotel until Maria needed him.

  Everyone agreed it would be best for Carolina to care for baby Luis until Maria was free to return home. Jose planned to remain with Carolina overnight and start back early the next morning, so he went into the spare bedroom and began to undress. The room was dark except for moonlight streaming through the pane. Jose had just removed his shirt, when he had the uncomfortable feeling someone was in the room with him. He whirled around and there was Julia, standing just behind him.

  She’s dead, he thought, but, in truth, she looked perfectly solid and well enough.

  Julia smiled in welcome. "Remember, Jose, let no one break your family." Then she paused, appearing somewhat surprised.

  "Julia, what is wrong?" Jose managed to stammer.

  Julia didn’t respond at first and, as he watched, wreathes of smoke ringed her form.

  "The orishas call me," she whispered and her image wavered, became transparent, and began to fade. "The power must be passed to Maria," he thought she said as she disappeared, but he couldn’t be sure he’d actually heard the words. Then the wispy smoke faded as if she’d never been there at all.

  Jose was terrified. He knew if he planned to sleep this night, it would be with the light on. He climbed into the narrow bed and eventually fell into a fitful sleep. It was the first of many nights that he would dream of Julia.

  His nightmares were always the same. Julia whispered to him of the power. The power. The power. In the dreams he tried to tell her he didn’t believe in this power, or her orishas, and such things were forbidden by his Christian god, but the nightmares always returned to whisper inside his mind.

  Maria, the dreams insisted, was to have the power.

  And Maria’s relatives kept at her.

  "You must take the power!"

  "It is expected of you!"

  "Of course, you will do what is right!"

  And Ramon was the worst of the lot, badgering her day and night.

  "If you do not want it, I do! You must choose, sister! Choose now! Now! Now!"

  Finally, Maria could stand it no longer. She packed up little Luis and asked Carolina to drive her home. Carolina’s nephew, Carlos, agreed to take her. When they pulled up in the front yard, Jose came running out. He was overjoyed to see his family again. Later, Jose gave Carlos dinner and a tour of the hotel. To the young guest’s delight, he was permitted a dip in Las Naranjas’ pool. Carlos slept in their front room overnight and, when he drove back the following day, Maria had still not made her decision.

  No sooner had Carlos left, when Maria and Jose began to argue. They argued all day and all night. When darkness fell, they took the argument to bed with them. And now, they lay estranged, facing one another in the small bed, in the silvery moonlight.

  The sound of Maria’s muffled sob brought Jose back to reality. He reached out to embrace her. Maria didn’t pull away this time. She cuddled her head on his shoulder and continued to weep. He brushed at her tears gently with his fingertips.

  "Are you all right, Maria?" he whispered. Maria’s large, dark eyes stared sadly up at him. She was trembling. He could see how much she wanted that book and he could feel her slipping from him even as she lay at his side. And so, in desperation, he tried one more time to convince her.

  "Once you have the book, it will never again be the same between us. And what of Luis? You will change his life, too." Tears choked off his words and escaped onto his cheeks. He tried to hide his discomfort by angling his face away from his wife. She must not think him unmanly. Especially now.

  Maria’s ambition made Jose afraid and his fear for his marriage was well founded. If she truly chose the book against his wishes, she'd soon become too powerful to listen to him. Worse yet, she had relatives in New York and might well decide to take the boy, leaving Jose and the Dominican Republic far behind.

  And now, he could only pray his wife would side with him. When everything they could say to each other had been said, there was nothing more he could do, except pray to his Christia
n god and wait.

  Days passed. Just as Jose gave up hope, she came to him, their child cradled in her arms. "You are right, Jose," she finally whispered. She pressed her lips to the sleeping boy’s cheek. Jose sighed with relief.

 

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