Immortal Scars

by A L Williams

  The loa called to me, pulling on my soul like long fingers grazing my skin. I tensed, focusing on my words to ground myself.

  No.

  They pulled back, and I opened my eyes, finding my Mambo standing before me. She was the priestess of our local Vodun fellowship. Most Americans knew it as voodoo. It had been warped and misrepresented by white people for generations. She kneeled in front of me, studying me for a moment, the glint of the moon dancing in her eyes. "Are you well, boy?" she said. I nodded. One man stepped forward, holding out his hand. I took it and he pulled to my feet. "You did well," Mambo said. Looking around, I found the others gathered in a circle around me.

  I brushed off my brown t-shirt and denim jeans beneath my colorful robes. "We will have to gather at my house. Tourists will show up soon. We don’t want to be interrupted. The loa may get confused and possess them." They nodded and scattered, all returning to their respective vehicles to make the trip home. "I need to talk to you," I said, glancing over at my Mambo.

  She nodded. "Come over for dinner?" She left, disappearing through the trees. I gathered my things, the moon dancing around me with the cooling breeze.

  Come home.

  Come back to us.

  I clenched the blanket between my fingers.

  No.

  This is my home now.

  You don’t belong here.

  I walked down the mountain to my car, and Mr. Miller drifted through my mind. I wondered how he was. When I last saw him, his anxiety rolled over me in waves as if he was about to crawl out of his skin. I hadn't wanted to leave him, but I couldn't just stay with the way he was looking at me. What would he do to me? I could almost taste his desire and it matched mine.

  The air was thick as I climbed out of my car in front of my Mambo's house. She lived in a small two-bedroom with cracked white block walls, faded and grungy from the years of neglect. Recent events replayed in my mind while I walked along the path, wiping away the gathered sweat on my forehead. I reached the porch and the door opened, revealing my Mambo. She wore a long dress that resembled a nightgown with small, multi-colored flowers printed on it that fell to her ankles. She smiled and stepped back, allowing me to enter.

  Once inside, colorful Haitian decor invaded my eyes. Metal crosses and artwork carved into the shape of an assortment of birds, and scenes littered the walls. Tapestries of red and blue accented the dark metal art. A flag of Haiti hung behind a couch pressed against the wall. I went into the living area and sat on the couch, glancing at the coffee table decorated with a woven table cloth and an ornate porcelain tea set.

  She moved to the end table, and I watched as she turned on the antique lamp, brightening the room. I noticed a picture of my mom and her. They both stood in the faded photograph with big smiles on their faces. My mother's hands were on her round belly. I could see her joy. I frowned and glanced away, a lump forming in my throat.

  "She was happy when she found out she was having you," Mambo said. I watched her as a sad smile crossed her expression. She walked over and sat next to me, placing her hand on my knee. "I remember when she got pregnant. She ran up to me with the biggest grin. She was glowing. ‘Roseline! I'm pregnant. We're having a baby,’ she said. She always insisted on calling me by my first name. So disrespectful."

  I peered up at her, expecting to see anger, but amusement danced in her eyes. Mambo had been close to my mother and father. She had even been my mother's midwife. I looked down at her hand on my knee as she squeezed it. "When your father died, I didn't think she would survive, but she was so strong," she said.

  I shifted. "How have you been?" I hoped she got the hint. I didn't wish to talk about my mother.

  She chuckled. "Boy, I'm fine. What did you need to talk about?"

  My shoulders relaxed. “A woman was brought in spouting strange things. She said that the Morning Star is coming.”

  "Satan."

  "Yeah, that's what I assumed. But is it true? Have you sensed anything?" I asked.

  Her expression hardened. “Rage and anger.”

  I furrowed my brow. It was one thing to deal with supernatural creatures, but the devil?

  "It’s bad isn't it?" I asked.

  "Stick by that boy. He is involved somehow."

  I gaped at her. "How do you know about him?"

  She smirked. "I Mambo." I rolled my eyes. She was always saying shit like that. What does that mean? But questioning her would leave me with an empty stomach and smack across the face. She stood and walked towards the kitchen. "You're getting thin. You need to eat, boy." I shook my head. She was constantly telling me that I was too skinny even though I was in perfect health. Mambo stopped. "She would be proud of you."

  I almost laughed bitterly. "I could eat." She inspected me and shook her head, continuing into the kitchen. I walked in after her as moonlight peeked through the dark curtains.

  ~

  The next day, sweat dripped down my face and, as I ran, the belt on the treadmill rolled at maximum speed. Beams of bright light shot through the window near the entrance as patrons entered, passing the desk with a smiling receptionist who greeted the entering patrons.

  Around me weight-lifters heaved large dumbbells over their heads, their muscles bulging as they flexed. Others stood in front of full wall mirrors stretching in their skin tight gym wear on to of the faded blue cushioned mats.

  I released controlled puffs of breath and glanced down at the screen as time ticked away. Once the timer dropped to zero, I turned down the speed, slowing to a jog.

  When I stopped, I stepped off the belt and walked to a padded bench, grabbing my towel. I wiped the sweat from my face, whispers drifting through my mind as I looked around. It was the loa, and they were relentless. Even after twenty-four years, they still wanted me. I frowned.

  Why can't they just leave me alone?

  I threw the towel down on the floor and straddled the bench. Laying down, I started doing sit-ups, my thoughts wandering to the night in the alley.

  James Miller.

  I pulled myself up, more sweat gathering at my hairline. Everything turned upside down the minute I had found him on the ground with a strange man standing above him. And then the homeless guy was just plain weird. Whoever they were, it was obvious they wanted Mr. Miller. I had to figure out why. The man that stood next to Mr. Miller had stuck with me, his haunting white eyes, matching Mr. Miller's. It was subtle, but there was a small resemblance between them. Not in looks, but in posture.

  What happened to the homeless guy? Who was that man in the alley? He didn't seem like Satan. He seemed more grumpy and annoyed than evil. Whoever he was, he wanted something from Mr. Miller. Ben and I specialized in weird cases, anything with the supernatural world, but I had never seen anything that. I chuckled to myself. When the corpse had pulled itself up to its feet, rage and hate rolled off of his dirty skin.

  After one last situp, I stood and kneeled to the floor. I could feel something coming and it was somehow related to Mr. Miller. I stopped stretching and stared at myself in the mirror; the reflection filled with people continuing to workout behind me. I shook my head and pulled myself to my feet and wandered over to the elliptical and set the timer. An hour ticked by as I rolled the events around in my mind, the loa still pestering me. My phone rang and I climbed off the machine and walked over to the bench, grabbing it from my gym bag. "Yes."

  "Hey Andy, I have the information you asked for. It looks like Mr. Hottie was born in Bernice. I also found his social security number. He works at a local coffee shop called Fresh N Hot," Ben said.

  I flopped onto the bench."Anything else?"

  "It's strange, I can find anyone, but there's nothing else about him,” he said, confusion clear in his voice.

  I furrowed my brow. "Nothing?"

  “I opened the police fingerprint database and searched there too. A few popped up, but none of them were him. Looks like he’s never been arrested,” he said.

  That's good.

  "I did find a
picture of a James Miller though. It's from 1904." he continued.

  I pulled myself to my feet, tossing my things in the bag. "What do you mean?"

  "Just look at it." The line went dead. I glanced at the phone and a message flashed across the screen. Opening it, a photo appeared and I examined it. It was an old photograph of a blurred man. I recognized him even with his hair cut short. He looked like James. I furrowed my brow as I grabbed my bag. This was getting bizarre. Was that him? All these questions spun around my head as I walked into the lobby. The receptionist wished me well with a wide smile and I returned it, stepping out into the blazing heat.

  I climbed into my BMW and tossed my bag to the back seat, after grabbing my phone and starting my car. It was time to pay Mr. Miller a visit. I looked up the address of Fresh N Hot. After studying the map, I pulled out of the lot into traffic, stopping at the light. My stomach fluttered. I don't know what had possessed me to ask him to dance. One moment I was standing with Ben in the club and the next I was pulling Mr. Miller onto the dance floor.

  When our lips touched, I might have fucked him right there if I hadn’t left to deal with some punk Fae messing with people in the park. Shaking off that thought, I groaned. "I don't have time for this. Calm the hell down." I said, shifting in my seat as the light turned green. I needed to get my body under control. Twenty minutes later I walked down the sidewalk, finding myself standing in front of Fresh N Hot.

  Chapter Five

  James

  The streets were packed with bumper to bumper traffic halted at the intersection as I walked by. Pedestrians of all ages, in groups or alone, surrounded me, cradled by large buildings that shot up into the sky. Others dragged dollies along sidewalks that were littered with trash, the scraping of their wheels mixing with the sound of people talking on their cell phones. I glanced at a couple, smiling at each other. Their eyes twinkled with joy and love. I looked down at the pavement, something tugging at my heart. What would it be like to be normal and in love? The familiar crackle of flames whispered to me.

  It doesn't matter.

  You don't deserve that.

  I continued to walk, looking up at the sky and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end and I peered behind me. Not one person on the street looked up. I crossed; the feeling lingered as I entered the coffee shop.

  Throughout the day, I cleaned and took orders as the hours passed, the feeling forgotten.

  Hayley walked in with her backpack slung over her shoulder. "Jamie!" she said, grabbing the attention of customers who frowned as she continued to chatter. I shot them an apologetic look.

  "Do you have to be so loud?" I asked. She shrugged, wandering into the kitchen. I shook my head.

  Time sped by with the smell of fresh coffee and pastries thick in the air. People came and left as the sun moved to the west. I cleaned and restocked the front, only stopping to remind Hayley that she was working. She was scolded by Corbin several times. The fond yet stern look in his eyes spoke volumes about their relationship. He handled her with a firm hand, but always with affection. As I watched them bicker, I wondered what it would be like to have a family again. Corbin waved me over, and I took over the register. "Oh come on! I was paying attention," Hayley whined, as he led her to the kitchen. Watching them disappear behind the swinging doors, I chuckled and turned back to take orders.

  The bell rang, as I handed change to a customer. "Welcome-" I started. Detective Scott strolled in with his hands tucked in his pockets. He looked at me, a large smile spreading across his face.

  He approached the counter. "Hello, Mr. Miller."

  "What are you doing here?" I whispered.

  He arched his brows. "Can't I get coffee?"

  I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "And you picked this coffee shop?" I crossed my arms in front of my chest.

  He shrugged. "I was in the neighborhood."

  I glared at him. "Yeah, in the neighborhood."

  He rubbed his head, looking off to the side. "I was checking up on you." I opened my mouth to tell him to go away.

  "Is there a problem, James?" Corbin said from beside me, studying the detective.

  Crap.

  I turned back to Scott, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

  Bastard.

  "What can I make you?" I said."Sir." I spat out the words, hoping I didn't sound as annoyed as I felt.

  "A hot coffee," he said, his eyes still dancing with amusement.

  "Room for cream?" I plastered a smile on my face.

  "No, black," he said, as he watched me, sending a jolt of excitement through my body. I cleared my throat and took his money, our hands brushing. My breath hitched as electricity ran up my arm. I glanced up at him, finding him staring, his gaze burning with raw need. I swayed over to the coffee, trying to calm my shaky hands as I filled the paper cup. When I returned and handed it to him, his warm fingers lingered. I stared down at the floor.

  "Have a good day, sir." I murmured.

  "Have a good day, Mr. Miller," he said and walked out.

  My eyes followed him, as he sauntered out the door. Corbin cleared his throat, pointing to a customer in front of me who watched me with a smirk on her face. "Sorry," I said, as my skin grew warmer. I returned to taking orders, trying to forget him. Didn't happen.

  ~

  The final customer had left the shop and the sky dimmed. I gathered my things and walked to the door. Hayley ran up to me "Jamie!"I stopped and turned towards her. "Movies?"

  I twisted one of my locks between my fingers. "Sure."

  A big smile spread across her face."Okay, let's go."

  She grabbed my arm and waved at Corbin, pulling me out the door. "See you," he called. I smiled and waved back.

  Several hours later, we sat on my bed with Hayley's laptop open in front of us. She put on some romantic comedy. Halfway through the film, I shifted as moans of pleasure filled the room. The characters held and cherished each other, locked in passion and need. My mind drifted to Detective Scott's touch, warmth spreading down my neck. "I need to get laid," Hayley said.

  I grunted. "You always do."

  She poked out her lip. "Hey, I am a healthy, sexually active woman."

  I narrowed my eyes. "Didn't your mama teach you modesty?"

  She rolled her eyes. "Okay, Ms. Daisy. What has you so interested in my life?" I froze.

  I don't know.

  "So what is this movie called?" I said.

  "Let Me In."

  I tensed. "Oh."

  She started to giggle. "Totally a porn title." I shook my head and smirked. She moved closer to me and leaned on my shoulder as she wrapped her arms around mine. I glanced at the laptop screen, the film ending.

  “Did you see the news?” she asked.

  "What?" I said.

  “There were cops everywhere outside of Divine the last time we were there.” Her face grew serious. “Some guy died in that alley.” She faced me.

  “Oh. That’s interesting.”

  “He was probably a creep,” she said. I peered at her and a strange look crossed her features, gone seconds later. She smirked. “ So he was there. He likes you a lot.”

  I swallowed. “Yeah, so any new guys in your life?”

  She glared “Don’t change the subject.”

  “I’m not. I’m genuinely curious.”

  “No. There’s no one I love as much as you and Corbin. Why are you gay? It would be so easy.” She scooted closer leaning her head against my shoulder.

  I smirked. “Nah. You need a man that can handle your ass.” Her elbow hit my side, and she glared at me with her lip poked out which made me chuckle. She was so ridiculous, and it was endearing when it wasn't obnoxious. “So how has school been?” I said, rubbing my side.

  She sighed. “It's going okay. Ms. McKenzie is still brutal.”

  “Oh, bless your heart,” I said, dodging another side jab. She was working on her degree in social services. She loved computers as much as I did, but she had chosen it as her minor.

/>   She looked ahead. “Only two years left. I can handle her." I smirked. She was a pain, but she was dedicated. She would go far. I admired her drive.

  You won’t be there to see it.

  My stomach twisted tight. “She’s trans, isn’t she?” I asked.

  “Yeah.” She pulled away from me. “Sometimes I wonder if she has someone at home and then I remember how bitchy she is.”

  “Kettle, meet pot.”

  She pouted. "You're so mean." The wind carried the fragrance of rain through my window and the cracked walls, clouds darkening the sky. “You two need to get laid. You both have your heads so far up your asses, I’m surprised I don’t see stains."

  “How eloquent.”

  “Don’t get all fancy on me, Ms. Daisy!”

  My lips curled into a smirk.

  “So, when are you to start school? You could enroll next year with me.”

  I frowned. “I don’t need it,”

  “Come on, Jamie! You love computers and you’re an amazing artist,” she said. “You would flourish in one of those fields.”

  I released a breath. “It’s not something I need or want to do. Drop it.”

  She jerked me back. “Why are you so resistant to living? Why won’t you just tell me?” I clenched my jaw.

  I can’t.

  She jumped to her feet and turned to me. “What do want out of life?

  I closed my eyes. “Nothing, I'm fine as I am.”

  “Bullshit!”

  My body grew stiff. “I don't need you to tell me how to live my life,” I said. “You’re not my mom.” My mother’s voice drifted through my mind, her scream echoing loudly. Acid rose in my throat.

  “I want you to be happy.” She shut her computer and stormed out. My heart sank as the door slammed behind her.