Bad Juju

by Dina Rae

  The boys appreciated the atmosphere Lucien had arranged. Mami slithered up the table leg of the newly converted altar. Both boys laughed at the snake’s exuberance.

  “Is this a real skull?” Jake asked as he almost picked up the chalice.

  “Yes, but don’t touch it. At least not yet. I’ve started part of a potion,” Lucien explained.

  “Are we gonna make another poppet with Pete’s things…or Pete’s taglocks? Maybe a spell to curse him with?” Jake asked. Lucien saw Jake’s blue eyes burn with anger. Revenge still had its hold on the boy’s heart.

  “Pete will get everything he deserves, but not today. I’ve been a terrible teacher. Voodoo dolls are a very advanced hex. I showed you both much too soon. Today I will begin with an initiation of sorts. Jake, you will pledge to become a bokor, and Henry, you will pledge to become a bokor’s assistant.” Both boys anxiously nodded.

  Henry looked at the doves inside of the bird feeder. “Are those new pets of yours?” he asked.

  “No. They will be used for our ceremony. You both must pledge an oath of secrecy to the loas before our training begins. I have so many things to teach you…things mambas would kill their babies for. When I lived in Haiti, I belonged to the Bizango Society. It was like a brotherhood or a fraternal order. It’s very secret, and not anyone can join. We were very important in our community and also feared. Today we will start our own chapter in the tradition of the Bizango Society. First, you will make a pact with Baron Samedi. This doll represents him,” Lucien said as he took the skeleton doll out of his curio and set it on the altar.

  “I like his tuxedo and top hat. Who is he?” asked Henry.

  “He is the chief loa of the dead, and he heads the Ghede family. They are spirits of the afterlife. These loas and the deads’ souls are the most powerful of all of the bokor’s tools. The Baron stands guard at the Crossroads where one’s soul needs to pass into New Guinee. He was the one Jake asked to uncross his hex he brought onto T.J. He can do many things, even change a man into an animal,” Lucien said.

  “He sounds like the devil. Is he evil?” Henry asked.

  “No, not at all. In Voodoo there is no good and there is no evil. Both are very much part of all of us and all of the loas, too. They cannot be separated. Henry, I know your parents are religious and you attend church every Sunday. If you want out of this, let me know. I don’t want to force my Haitian ways onto your Christian beliefs.”

  “I go to church because my parents make me. This is much more interesting. Make me an assistant bokor and I won’t talk about the devil again,” Henry answered.

  “Very well. Let us begin with the initiation. I have amulets for you boys. Jake, this one is made with an alligator’s tooth and white crystal. It’s a bokor’s charm that wards off evil spells. And Henry, this is an amethyst blessed with goat’s blood. It is worn by an assistant to show prominence inside of the hounfour or temple. It is also said to bring good luck.” Lucien hung the amulets around their necks. “These used to be mine, and now I’m passing them on to you both. Kneel before this altar, before the great baron!”

  The boys readily obeyed. Lucien began beating his drum and singing a one verse song.

  Simbi en Deux Eau

  Why don’t people like me?

  Simbi en Deux Eau

  Why can’t they stand me?

  Because my magic is dangerous

  I will drink so that I can fly

  I will be able to walk in the night

  Of the secret society

  The boys’ eyes became droopy. Lucien kept beating and singing. He insisted they sing along. They echoed each phrase of the song dozens of times until it was memorized. Their singing slurred into a tired chant as their heads hypnotically bobbed. Their trance-like mannerisms suggested to Lucien it was time to begin. He quickly wrapped up the song and prayed.

  “Baron Samedi, accept these apprentices as brothers of the Bizango Society.”

  The camphor incense plumed smoke in every direction. White rings of smoke blew off of the candles.

  “The Baron is ready to receive his sacrifice. Jake, you will go first, so Henry, pay attention.” Lucien handed Jake an old dagger with an iridescent handle and then handed him a pigeon. The bird tried to free himself from Jake’s cupped hand by franticly squirming and pecking on his fingers. He shrieked in pain, almost letting go of the bird.

  “Kill it, Jake!” Lucien yelled.

  Clumsily, Jake sawed through the bird’s neck with the dagger and let the blood drip onto the altar.

  “Get some of the bird’s blood in my chalice,” commanded Lucien. Jake clenched the dead bird and let its blood drain into the skull chalice.

  “Here. We’ll boil both birds once Henry is done,” Lucien said as he held a cast iron pot filled with water next to Jake. “Henry, you remember the steps?”

  With the ease and experience of Haitian bokor, Henry performed the same sacrifice in a fraction of the time.

  “I’m impressed, Henry,” Lucien said. He placed the pot on the stove. “Back in Haiti, we used black cats for this, but birds will do. Once the birds are cooked, you’ll suck on each bone until you find one that sours inside of your mouth. We will crush it up in my mortar and add it to the potion. “Repeat after me. I swear on my soul…on my family’s souls…that I will adhere to complete secrecy as a Bizango brother….If I shall quit this order, then the Baron may invoke the proper consequences.” Both boys repeated the oath several times until memorized.

  “There is no turning back. Our pot of pigeons is boiling.”

  Mami slithered around the table in a frenzy with her mouth opened for food.

  “You can give some of the meat to her for a treat.” Lucien picked up the boa constrictor and wrapped her around his neck. He set her head on the table and allowed the boys to feed her pigeon. The snake greedily gulped down the food.

  “Lucien, why do you like snakes so much? Your candles, glasses, knick-knacks, and Mami…Got a theme of snakes going for the interior design of this place,” Jake asked while sucking on the pigeon bones.

  “Snakes are symbolic in Voodoo. According to Haitian legend, there was a great serpent who held the world up with his endless coils. One day he decided to rise. His coils were so long that he reached above the heavens. He lived by a waterfall and met a rainbow. She became his wife and they gave birth to the spirit that circulates blood. He’s called Damballah.”

  “Yuck! This is disgusting!” screamed Henry. His eyes stung as he coughed up the bitter taste of the bone. He placed it in Lucien’s mortar and crushed it up. Jake soon found an acrid bone and did the same. Mami slithered into the living room and neatly coiled her green and white body up for a nap.

  “You fed her too much pigeon. Now we can add the bone powder to our potion. One last ingredient. You need to slit your arms and let a few drops of blood trickle into the chalice. Excellent. A few more words to the Baron and then we will drink.” Lucien passed the chalice around a few times until the potion was all gone. He murmured a prayer thanking the loas for accepting the boys into the Bizango Society. The candles and incense blew out by themselves.

  “Congratulations. The Baron considers you family. You are now brothers of the Bizango Society.” The boys were pleased with themselves, both smiling ear to ear. “You both need to come by two or three times a week for some more lessons on the black arts.”

  ***

  The weeks flew by, turning the brutal winter of northern Wisconsin into a lush, green spring. While the mortician’s death remained unsolved, reports of giant wolves, bears, bobcats, and coyotes ran rampant. Many of the town’s residents were buying rifles with scopes in preparation for an animal attack. Despite the town’s paranoia, Lucien was grateful to the loas for ending the investigation. He was also grateful for Henry and Jake. He cherished their visits and beamed with pride as they exceeded his expectations. By the beginning of April, they were independently casting simple spells of love, protection, and money. They were ready for a chall
enge. Jake spoke of cursing Pete. Lucien agreed he was now ready.

  Lucien hoped the warmer weather would ease his arthritis, but his health plummeted to a new low. One day in April he woke up, unable to walk. Breathing was almost too strenuous. Is today the day I am supposed to die? He was down to his last ti-bon-age, the part of the soul that belonged to T.J. McGrath. With every ounce of strength he could muster, he rolled out of bed and crawled up to his armoire. He took out the last govi that contained T.J.’s ti-bon-ange and inhaled it through his leather straw. The soul made him convulse. He began to doubt if his body could take any more black magic. And then he collapsed. Hours later, he awoke feeling like someone else.

  Lucien sprang up from the floor. His hands looked different. Finding a mirror, he gazed at his reflection for several moments, not sure if he was dreaming. Staring back at him was a man in his fifties he had once known. Is it me? The deep creases in his face were softened. His sagging jowls were tightened. His long white hair was black with gray streaks. Dropping the mirror on the carpet, he plunged to his knees and prayed. The loas had been generous.

  Chapter 21

  Leah touched up the dark roots of her otherwise bleached hair, bought a conservative gray suit, and attended her brother’s funeral. The cost of the funeral had tapped her and her mother out. However, she was back at work and soon would replace what she had spent. No regrets. The service was worth every penny. She and her mother honored T.J. one last time.

  Although she grieved for her brother, his death created a diversion from her otherwise shitty life. Leah despised her job, but stripping was a very lucrative business, more lucrative than Pete had figured. Once again, she began salting away much of her proceeds in various hiding places inside of her mother’s house.

  Her marriage had gone from bad to worse. Sex had once been a compatible part of their relationship. But now, with his escalating abuse, Leah’s skin crawled and stomach soured at his very touch. She would lie in bed and pretend to be far away with someone else while he enjoyed himself. Other times she would fantasize about different ways to permanently rid herself of him.

  By April all of the police charges against Pete were dropped, leaving Leah without a bargaining chip to keep him in line. He immediately returned to the selfish brute he had been before jail time loomed over his head.

  Despite all of her misery, she found a sliver of happiness from her daughter. Had it not been for Rhianna, she would have killed herself a long time ago. Jake had also softened her heart. His helpfulness was refreshing. As promised, she began teaching him how to drive.

  Leah’s 2000 Chevy Impala was the perfect learning vehicle for a new driver. The odometer rolled over at least once, and the car’s body was cloaked with dings, scratches, and dents. Every time a major breakdown would occur, she would suggest trading it in. Pete cringed at the thought of spending the money. He always fixed the problem. Auto repair and thriftiness were the only things he was good at.

  It was his thriftiness that had made her question their finances. “Pete, I tallied up all of our bills the other day. I just don’t understand it. Our rent is dirt cheap, no car payments, no credit card debt…We’ve got quite a big check for Jake coming from the state, your workman’s comp claim, and then my tips from The Dollhouse. The math just doesn’t add up. What are you doing with our money?”

  “Since when did you become a God-damned accountant?” he answered. She could see his fury behind the calm voice and tried to run.

  He grabbed her neck with both of his hands and squeezed, pushing her against the wall of the living room. As Leah gasped for air, he said, “I could kill you right now, you dumb bitch. I’m only gonna tell you this once. I’m the king, and this is my castle. I do not explain myself to you! So go shake your greasy cunt at the boys down at that shithole you work at and bring home all of the money. I’m sick of you playing me. Understand?”

  Leah’s face turned red as she gasped for air. The look in his face was odd, unfamiliar. He suddenly let go of her neck. She coughed and inhaled, partly wishing he would have strangled her. “I promised Jake I would take him driving this afternoon.” Pete nodded, but seemed distant as if he had something else on his mind. She left the trailer and picked Jake up from Lucien’s home.

  After weeks of practice, Jake was somewhat reliable behind the wheel. She was no longer on edge as he drove. They both could now relax and talk.

  “Glad we planned this. Had to leave. Drive as long as you want. I don’t want to go home,” Leah said.

  Jake drove to Henry’s, the movie theatre, Freemont High School, and then had an idea. “Wanna go visit T.J.?”

  Leah was touched. “I’d love to. Let’s go buy some flowers to plant beside his headstone.”

  Jake pulled into Home Depot and she purchased a flat of geraniums and a trowel. As Jake pulled into the cemetery, Leah could see the trailer park. Anger swept over her. She turned to Jake for comfort. He turned out to be the perfect sounding board, hanging on every word.

  As they planted some flowers, Leah continued to vent. The way he listened made her feel like the most important person in the world. She couldn’t help but notice how much taller he had grown. He also filled out, making him look older.

  “That bastard almost killed me! He’s fucking crazy, Jake. One second he’s slapping me around, and the other second he’s somewhere in outer space. I’m wondering if he’s doing coke again. That would explain where the money is going. All I am to him is a piece of meat with a paycheck…” Leah noticed his thoughtful blue eyes had swirls of green. His voice was soothing.

  “Leah, why don’t you divorce him?” he asked. Not the first time he had asked her this, but he seemed hopeful she would follow through. The boy’s undivided attention gave her yearnings she wasn’t prepared to deal with. She tried to shake them off.

  “Divorce? I certainly don’t love him. Not sure if I ever did. Truth be told, I’m terrified of him. He’d kill me before signing the papers.” She finished planting a few more flowers. “This is good, Jake. We can take the rest home and plant them there.”

  They both remained silent for the next several minutes. As they sat back in the car, she impulsively took his hand before buckling her seatbelt. He leaned in and surprised her with a kiss. It was the kind of soft kiss one reads about in fairy tales. The kind that shows the princess how much the prince loves her, the kind of kiss Leah never had. The voice inside of her head was screaming with caution, but a warm and mysterious sensation seized her body. She grazed her hand over the fly of his jeans and felt his instant arousal. He kissed her neck while caressing her ample breasts. In seconds he had her tank top off, exposing her erect nipples. He gently nibbled on them while she quivered with delight. Reaching for his zipper, she paused. The voice of reason stopped their momentum. “Jake, this is so wrong. I’m like your moth…”

  He interrupted her second thoughts. “My mother is dead. And you know that. She is buried on the other side of this cemetery. And you are only four years older than me. I could never think of you as my parent.” He dived into her enormous breasts with his tongue.

  She didn’t care about the age gap. It was the potential statutory rape charge that mattered. Sexual abuse of a minor was another consequence that came to mind. As he sucked her nipples, her lustful urges returned. Just this once.

  Jake had yanked her pants down and began sticking his fingers inside of her. She was soaked by his swirls. He lifted her like a feather and set her in the backseat of the car.

  Waves of desire tickled every nerve ending in her body. Jake’s manhood was impressive. She arched her back and wrapped her little legs around him. He mounted her, and then she moaned in delight. He felt electric inside of her. “Jake, you’re so big! Don’t stop!”

  Five heaves later he ejaculated. She tried to hide her disappointment, but he had seen it in her eyes. “That was my first time.”

  “Your first time? With me? This is wrong on so many levels. Listen, I was feeling unloved, vulnerable…I didn�
�t think about you. We can’t ever do this again.” Leah cringed as she saw the despondent look on his face. Taking a scarf on the floor of the backseat, she wiped herself off and got dressed. He did the same.

  “I understand. Wish I could have given you more pleasure. I’ve dreamt of this happening for so long. If only you saw yourself like I do. If you can’t be with me, don’t be with Pete. You deserve someone so much better.”

  Leah crawled back in the passenger’s seat as tears in her eyes welled. She didn’t want him to see her eyes. “Hey, since we’re here and we got extra flowers, let’s go see your mom. She’ll like some flowers around her grave.”

  They silently rode to the other side of the cemetery and parked. Leah walked up to the grave and read, “Rhonda LaRue, 1978-2005. So young. I’ve seen her picture in your room. She was beautiful.” She and Jake began to plant the remaining geraniums.

  “Yes, she was. Before the cancer took over. I miss her every day. Does Pete ever come here?” Jake cried.

  “Are you kidding? I wish I knew her. She has a terrific son. We both have had a lot of sadness in our lives for two young people.” He nodded. She had told him a long time ago about her own father’s battle with Lou Gehrig’s disease, leaving her fatherless after turning twelve. “Let’s get some more driving practice in.”

  The empty, curvy roads of the cemetery were perfect place for Jake to practice reverse, three point turns, and parallel parking. Their melancholy conversation turned to Rhianna. They both shared funny stories of the adorable toddler’s calamities. Leah turned to him and smiled. “Jake, someday you’re going to make some girl very happy.”