by Sala, Sharon
She feared she had misjudged him and made a mistake by having him cursed, then wondered what would happen to her for having a curse put on an innocent man. The only way she’d know for sure was pay another visit to Mama Lou.
****
Mama Lou had come by her name honestly. She’d birthed nine children in her life, seven of whom were still living. Those children had given her twenty-eight grandchildren, twelve great-grandchildren, and to date, one great-great-grandchild. She’d outlived two husbands and three lovers, and swore to this day that they all died with smiles on their faces. While her lust for life was unmistakable, it was her religion for which she was known.
Voodoo was as much a part of Mama Lou as the children she’d carried in her womb. Unlike some of the other practitioners who also catered to tourists, she lived under the radar, dealing only with locals and true believers. She saw her clients in her home and had one due at any moment, so when she heard the knock at her door, it was not Lisette Branscum she expected to see.
Lisette eyed the tiny little woman nervously, afraid her arrival would be viewed as a lack of faith.
“Mama Lou, I know you didn’t expect me, but I need to ask you a question.”
“You may ask.”
The tiny row house, common to the area where Mama Lou had lived for the past seventy-nine years, was only feet away from the houses on either side. Lisette looked over her shoulder to make sure they were alone, then leaned down to whisper the question.
“What I asked you to do was because I believed a man was guilty of a crime. What happens if he is innocent? Does the curse still work or does it come back on me for cursing an innocent man?”
Mama Lou’s gaze shifted to a spot just over Lisette Branscum’s shoulder. At first, her eyes widened, and then they narrowed as if focusing in on a sight only she could see.
“The man is innocent of nothing. It will work as it is meant to work. When you leave here, take nothing with you of your past.”
Lisette shrugged. “I have nothing left of my past. It all burned up.”
“You have your ways. Do not practice them again or it will come to no good.”
A shiver ran up Lisette’s spin. “I understand.”
“You go now,” Mama Lou said.
Lisette left the stoop, moving at a fast clip down the sidewalk and never looked back.
****
Anson sat on the tailgate of his truck watching a cottonmouth slither across the ground only a couple of yards from where Chance was standing.
His boys had just finished loading up the bamboo pots in the wholesaler’s truck and were cleaning up the workstations as the wholesaler drove away.
Anson was counting out his money while watching the snake and making silent bets with himself as to what was going to happen next. He was so into the game that he didn’t realize he’d been made.
Sam happened to look up, noticed the odd expression on his father’s face, which led him to follow Anson’s line of sight right to the deadly snake only a few feet from the back of Chance’s leg.
Sam grabbed a machete from the worktable, pushing Chance aside with one hand as he swung the knife with the other, swiftly cutting off the snake’s head. Blood spurted on the back of Chance’s pants as the snake’s body began writhing in death throes.
“What the hell?” Chance yelled, then looked down and shuddered. “Oh hell! Thanks brother.”
Sam turned to face Anson, the machete gripped tightly in his hand.
“You son of a bitch.”
Anson frowned. “Watch your tongue, boy.”
Sam pointed the machete at him to punctuate the question. “How long were you going to watch before you said something?”
Chance looked at his brother in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Sam was still staring at his father, stunned by the smirk on his face. “He knew the snake was there. He watched it getting closer and never said a word.”
Chance turned on his father in disbelief. “Is that true?”
“You weren’t in any danger,” Anson said.
Chance took a step back, his voice sudden shaking. “You were betting my life that the snake wouldn’t strike? Is that all we are to you... a little entertainment at the end of a day?”
Anson laughed. “What are you gonna do? Cry about it?”
Chance doubled up his fists, but then seemed to think better of it and strode out of the shed without a word.
Anson arched an eyebrow. “By damn I think he is gonna cry.”
Sam was so angry he was shaking, but what frightened him more was how easy it would be to behead their snake-of-a-father as he’d beheaded the one on the ground. Instead of acting on the thought, he laid the machete on the table and walked out, followed by the sound of his father’s laughter.
“Get here early tomorrow,” Anson yelled. “We got a crop to harvest.”
Sam just kept walking.
Chance was waiting for him in the truck.
He got in without saying a word, started the engine and drove away.
Chance hands were fisted against his knees, his voice thick with tears. “What the fuck are we doing?”
Guilt weighed heavily on Sam’s shoulders. He was the oldest. If he’d taken a stand, neither one of them would be in this position today.
“We’re keeping Mama and Linny safe, that’s what we’re doing.”
Chance shuddered. “If that’s what you tell yourself to make this work, then so be it, brother. But I’m telling you now that no one is safe around him. He’s always been wild, but now he’s getting mean, crazy mean.”
“So what do you want me to do?” Sam muttered. “If we quit, that leaves Mama and Belinda at his mercy.”
Chance hit the seat with his fist. “Why do good people die, and people like him still keep living?”
Sam shook his head. “That’s not for us to know or to judge. That’s between them and God, little brother.”
“I’m gonna make him sorry,” Chance said.
“By doing what?” Sam asked.
“I’m not telling you, so you won’t try and talk me out of it. But you’ll know when it happens.”
Sam frowned. “Don’t go and do something stupid.”
Chance laughed, but there wasn’t a shred of humor in the sound. “Fuck it, Sam. We’re already doing something stupid every time we set foot on Wisteria Hill. Every time we cut his fucking weed. Every time we do business with a man like Wes Riordan. We both heard Riordan talk about what kind of money he could get for selling Linny, and neither one of us said a thing. He was talking about pimping out our little sister to some sick perverts and we just stood there. Stood there! I still have nightmares about it!”
Sam’s gut knotted. “And what do you think would happen to her if we weren’t there anymore?”
And just like that, all of Chance’s rage was gone. He scrubbed his hands over his face and leaned back against the seat in quiet defeat.
“I know you’re right. But it’s not going to keep me from wishing the bastard dead, and don’t preach at me. That sin will be between me and God.”
Sam shrugged. “I’m not throwing stones or preaching at anyone. We’re both guilty of plenty on our own.”
Chance changed the subject. “My truck will be ready tomorrow so I’ll drive out on my own.”
Sam eyed the jut of his brother’s jaw. “What are you going to do tonight? Are you still seeing that pretty little hostess at the steak house?”
“No.”
“Why not?” Sam asked.
“Because I don’t want Daddy to know I like her. He’d find a way to fuck with her, that’s why.”
Sam couldn’t deny he’d made similar decisions in the past. “This is a hell of a way to live, isn’t it, brother?”
Chance shook his head. “I don’t call this living. We’re just going through the motions.”
Sam sighed. “Look, I know you’re right about everything. I’ll think on this some myself. Maybe we can come up with a
way to work this out and keep Mama and Linny safe, too. Okay?”
Chance hunched his shoulders and stared down at his boots. “Brendan was the smart one. He left before Daddy could get his hooks into him.”
“That’s not how I saw it,” Sam said. “Didn’t you ever stop to wonder why Daddy let him go?”
“Let him?”
“Think about it,” Sam said. “Daddy’s mean, but he’s also smart. Brendan has bucked him from the time he knew how to talk back, and Daddy let it happen. He let Brendan leave home without a word because he knew if he didn’t, the day would come when Brendan would challenge him and win. Daddy isn’t afraid of anyone or anything, but he knows the only person he’s never been able to scare or control is Brendan, and in a sick way, he respects Brendan for it.”
“I don’t want his fucking respect,” Chance muttered.
“None of us do, least of all Brendan,” Sam said. “I’m just saying that Brendan is also the most like Daddy. He’s just as single-minded and hard-headed, but in a good way.”
Chance shrugged. “I know, but it doesn’t change the fact that I wish Anson Poe would drop off the face of the earth.”
“I’ll add an Amen to that and buy you a beer before you go home.”
“Done,” Chance said.
Sam smiled. “As long as we stick together, we’ll get through this. You’ll see.”
****
Brendan entered his apartment with his arms full of groceries, plus the candy Belinda had requested.
“Look at all this!” Claudette said as she began putting things away. “Are you planning a siege?”
Brendan shrugged. “I don’t like to shop much, so I usually pack in enough stuff to last a while.”
Claudette caught a tone in his voice and turned to look at him. His expression wasn’t any better.
“You are not happy.”
“It doesn’t matter. It will either work out or it won’t,” he muttered.
Claudette decided to try another subject. She brushed flour from the front of her red sundress then continued to empty the sacks.
“Did your Juliette use Mama Lou’s gift?”
“Yes, and was very grateful. She said it numbed the pain.”
“Good. She will heal much faster. Is she coming home soon?”
Brendan didn’t crack a smile. “She’s going to her parents until she’s better,” he said and slid a six-pack of beer into the refrigerator.
“Will you visit her there?” Claudette asked.
Brendan looked up. “No, and she knows it.”
“Was she angry with you?”
“Not with me.”
Claudette shrugged. “Then it is all good.”
Brendan shook his head. “No, Auntie, it’s not good. It’ll never be good between us again. Anson made an enemy out of Grayson March, and I’m the closest whipping boy. I need to call Sam. March was ranting about two people dead and said Anson was to blame and I didn’t know what he was talking about.”
“You can call your brother if you want, but I know the answers to your questions. It was on the local news at noon.”
Brendan frowned. “On the news? What the hell has he done now?”
Claudette proceeded to tell him, right down to the last detail.
Brendan was stunned. “So March’s hired guns were on LeDeux’s property and thought it was Anson who was shooting at them?”
She nodded.
“And they’re all dead?”
“Yes, both of March’s men and LeDeux. His little house burned down in the shoot-out.”
“Are they going to charge March in any way?” Brendan asked.
“They didn’t say anything about it,” Claudette said.
Brendan shoved a hand through his hair in frustration. “No wonder he was pissed. This isn’t going to look good for him.”
“This is what happens when armed men have a disagreement. Someone always gets hurt, and quite often killed.”
Brendan heard footsteps and turned around just as Linny entered the kitchen.
“I thought I heard you talking,” she said.
He shifted mental gears quickly as she sidled up beside him. “I brought candy,” he said.
“Yay! What kind did you get?”
“Those little miniature chocolate candy bars you like.” He handed her the bag. “Here you go, and don’t forget to share.”
“Thank you, Brendan, thank you!”
“You’re welcome. Now you have to do something for me.”
She was immediately curious. “Like what?”
“Bring your candy to my room and you’ll see.”
She grabbed the bag and followed him out of the kitchen. As soon as they reached his room, she crawled up onto the bed and waited, watching as he got something out of the dresser on the other side of the room. When she saw it was a phone, she squealed with delight.
“I get my own phone?”
Brendan sat down beside her, his expression grave. “It’s a special phone, and I need to show you how to use it.”
“I already know how,” Linny said. “Sam lets me play games on his.”
“This one isn’t for play,” Brendan said. “It’s for emergencies only. Do you know what an emergency is?”
When her smile slipped sideways, Brendan was overwhelmed. No child should have to live like this. She nodded. “An emergency is when you have to call an ambulance, right?”
“Yes, or when you’re in danger. Do you know what danger is?”
Her shoulders slumped, and then she leaned in against him. “Daddy is dangerous.”
Brendan frowned. “Who told you that?”
“No one. I just know.”
He was almost afraid to ask, and yet he had to. “Has he ever hurt you?”
She nodded.
Brendan pulled her onto his lap and then wrapped his arms around her. “Tell me,” he said softly.
“I can’t. He said if I told, he would hurt Mama.”
The terror Brendan was feeling was almost more than he could handle. “Then this can be just our secret. You’ll tell me and I won’t tell anybody else, not even Anson, okay?”
She leaned back against his arm, searching the expression on his face. Something she saw satisfied her concerns. Once again, she leaned into him, resting her head against his chest.
“Once, he got really mad at me and squeezed my throat too hard. I couldn’t breathe and went to sleep. When I woke up, he was throwing water in my face. He said if I told anyone, he would make sure Mama never woke up again.”
“Oh Linny... baby... I’m sorry,” he whispered and hugged her to him. “Why did he do that?”
“I used one of his coffee cups to clean my watercolor brush.”
“Are you afraid to go home?”
“Not anymore.”
“Why?”
“Cause Daddy is fixing the house all pretty and it will be better. Everything will be better. Mama said.”
Brendan was so scared he couldn’t focus. The walls were closing in around him and he was helpless to stop it.
“What would you say if I asked you to stay here with me?”
She sat up, suddenly uneasy. “No, Bren. I have to go home with Mama, okay? Don’t be mad at me. I have to go home.”
“I’m not mad, honey. I could never be mad at you. I just asked. That’s all.”
She was visibly relieved. “Okay then.”
“Right, so let’s talk about this phone. It’s only for when you feel like you and Mama are in danger, and all you have to do is just push this button. It will call my phone. You won’t have to talk. You won’t have to do anything, because I’ll know if you make that call that you need me, understand?”
“Yes, Bren. I understand.”
“Okay, let’s practice. You go down to the end of the hall, press that button and then hide it in your pocket or somewhere in your clothes. Don’t hang up. Ever. Because I can find you if the phone is still on... understand?”
“Yes, like leavin
g the television on even if you leave the room.”
“Exactly,” he said. “So which button are you gonna press?”
“This one,” she said and put her finger on it.
“Go hide and call me.”
She ran out, clutching the phone against her chest.
He hated this was happening—that it was even necessary—but he wasn’t stupid. If Mama Lou said do it, then this was serious business.
All of a sudden, his cell phone began to ring.
He looked down at the Caller ID. The pre-programmed message he’d put in it was working. It read 911. He got up and walked out into the hall.
Linny was hunkered down in the darkest corner with her head down on her knees and the phone held tight within her hand.
“You did good,” he said. “Do you know how to hang up?”
She punched another button and the 911 message disappeared.
“Good job,” he said, as he squatted down beside her and handed her the cord to charge it. “You’ll have to charge it every night. Do you know how?”
She took the cord, plugged it into the right spot on the phone, and then held up the end that went in the socket.
“This plugs into the wall, right?”
“That’s right. Good girl,” he said.
She stared down at the phone. “Hey, Bren?”
“What, honey?”
“What do I do after I punch the button?” she asked.
“You wait for me to come get you and Mama.”
She leaned forward, her voice just above a whisper. “Sir Brendan will come to Queen Belinda’s rescue?”
“Yes, I will,” he said.
Her voice began to shake, as if she already felt the danger. “You’ll come fast? You’ll have to come fast.”
“I’ll come so fast you won’t believe it.”
When her shoulders slumped, he pulled her closer. “Remember, Linny. This is our secret. You can’t tell anyone about this phone... not even Mama.”
“I can keep a secret.”
“Where are you going to hide it?” Brendan asked.
