Chapter Seven #2
Grace’s grip on the rifle loosened, and the barrel pointed at the ground. “You knew them?” The longing to hear more of her parents nearly overcame her distrust of the stranger.
“I knew of them. We met once or twice on the street in New Orleans. However, they would not have recognized me as a friend.”
“That makes no sense. Unless you were their enemy.” Impatient with the old woman’s hogwash, Grace leveled the rifle once more.
“Only evil makes enemies out of kindness. Your family were very kind folk,” The mambo said.
“Anyone could say that.” Grace wanted to believe the old woman, but too much betrayal and pain had killed any impulse to trust easily. “What are you doing here?”
“It is urgent that you and I talk. Please, may we go into your kitchen and sit? The walk from New Orleans took many hours, and I am cold.”
“You walked all the way from New Orleans?” She resisted the urge to gape, but only because she wanted to be polite.
“That’s the best way to put it.”
Grace pointed the rifle upward. She might not believe everything this woman said, but she doubted very much anyone so frail could do much harm.
“A woman in your condition should not do such things. Yes, come to the kitchen. I’ll make tea, and you can tell me what this urgent matter is.
You can stay the night if you wish. I have a delivery coming tomorrow.
I’ll ask the driver to take you back to Duval Point once he unloads my order. ”
“Thank you, Grace Thibodaux. Your mama and pa are proud of the woman you have become.” As she spoke, she moved slowly down the lane toward the house.
Grace stayed close. The woman was so fragile, a good breeze could carry her off.
The dogs were content to walk beside them, not racing eagerly to the next thing.
When they reached the kitchen, the mambo was breathing heavily. Grace helped her into a chair at the kitchen table.
“Mars, Mercury, rest,” the ancient woman ordered, while inhaling deep breaths.
“Those dogs are very well behaved. How old are they?” Grace asked, as she set about making tea from the kettle that always sat on the stove. “’Bout six or seven months.” Mambo Ayezan murmured. “They will stay with you and obey you.”
“What commands do they know?” As they conversed, Grace marveled that her curiosity about the woman had so quickly overcome her fear and distrust.
“Whatever orders you give them. They are friends of Papa Legba, so they will understand.”
Odd. I guess I’ll find out as we go on.
“Okay. How do you like your tea? Sugar, lemon, cream?”
“I prefer my tea black.”
Grace poured a cup and set it in front of the mambo, then rummaged in a drawer for writing tools.
“Are the leaves from your own shrubs?” Mambo Ayezan asked. “I saw tea bushes on either side of your kitchen door.”
There is no light outside to see by. How could she possibly…?
This was a woman who spoke to invisible spirits, so Grace wasn’t going to ask.
“Even before they are harvested, tea leaves have a scent detectable to any who wish to acknowledge the odor.” Mambo Ayezan said, as if she’d read Grace’s mind.
She smiled. “My mother’s tea bushes are still in good enough shape to use the leaves. I wouldn’t trust anything grown and harvested somewhere else.”
“Very wise of you,” the mambo remarked. “Now, listen carefully. When you have heard all I must tell, you may ask what questions you wish. I hope, by then, you will be able to trust me.”
Grace sipped her tea. “I suppose that will depend on what you have to say and the answers to my questions.”
“First, understand you need answers to questions you will not wish to ask. You need to know about your dreams.”
“My dreams?” Grace asked, keeping her voice even, almost disinterested. What could this woman, a complete stranger, possibly know about my dreams?
“Do you mean my nightmares or my ambitions?”
Mambo pursed her lips, nodding. “They may be the same thing.”
Then this little old lady is a liar, for I have no ambitions. No hopes. However, Grace had nightmares aplenty.
She studied the mambo’s lined face, before sipping more tea.
“You will not get the things you think you want,” Mambo Ayezan stated.
Since I am without hope or ambition, that statement is true. Yet this woman was a stranger. How could she know?
Grace held her tongue. Most charlatans succeeded because their marks gave away too much information.
“You must find hope and cherish it, then give it away, if you are ever to find your only love.” The older woman fell silent, staring hard at Grace’s reactions. Cherish hope, then give it away to find love? Pah!
That, too, was the kind of thing any con artist would say. Vague enough to be true, concerning just about anything. Mambo Ayezan wasn’t gaining trust with that sort of statement.
“Go on,” she suggested, since the mambo seemed to expect an answer.
Despite being brought up by a wealthy and loving Boston couple, Grace had learned when her parents died, not to hope. The recent scandal in Boston had reinforced the idea. Like caring, hope was a chimera. Hard work and action, those were means and reward unto themselves.
“All people wish to love and be loved.” Mambo Ayezan stared into the distance. “You hurt yourself and others by denying your heart’s desire.”
Grace repressed a laugh. “Oh, and what is my heart’s desire?”
The elderly woman waved a hand. “What you long for is not as important as your need for it.” She set her cup down, then let her hands fall to her lap.
Grace followed suit. “I do not wish to disrespect a woman of your experience and status as a mambo. However, you tell me nothing specific. How can I credit what you say as truth when your words lack substance?”
The mambo sighed. “I see you will not believe me now. I will speak of it no more. However, I must give you this.” She fished in a pocket and revealed a white velvet pouch, tied with string of woven black and red strands.
She opened it, removing a folded red tissue paper from inside before offering both pouch and paper to Grace.
“This is for you, so you must be the one to open it.”
She reached for the objects.
“Handle everything with great care.”
Grace set the pouch to one side and centered the paper in front of her, then opened the folds.
Nestled inside lay an amulet. She gently lifted the chain of tiny black seed pearls.
At the bottom of the chain dangled an intricately carved octagon of black coral.
Eight tridents were engraved in the coral, all crossing in the center.
Some sort of red dye or paint colored the engravings.
The four cardinal tridents were larger, with the ordinals slightly smaller.
Three dots decorated the edge of the octagon above the cardinal tridents.
Between each of the eight shafts was a shape vaguely like a barbell.
None of the hazy shapes touched. In the center, where the eight shafts intersected, a small faceted red stone gleamed.
On the paper beside the amulet lay a bracelet size chain of tiny gold links.
A lone ornament—a small gold cylinder with miniscule latch—dangled from the chain.
Leaving the amulet alone, Grace lifted the cylinder and chain. She unhooked the latch. Inside lay several small, inscribed gold leaf sheets. She moved to take one of the sheets, and the mambo’s hand shot out to grasp her wrist.
“Not now. Read those only when you use the amulet.”
“Very well.” Grace closed and latched the cylinder, placing it on the paper.
Next, she held the amulet up to the light.
“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” She returned the amulet to its original position, then folded the paper around both pieces.
With all restored to order, she pushed the paper and pouch back to the older woman. “I cannot accept such a valuable gift.”
“Once given, I cannot take it back.” Mambo Ayezan shoved the pouch and paper forcefully at Grace. “Ungrateful girl. Would you anger the Loa by refusing their gift?”
She reared back. “I am not ungrateful, and I apologize. I meant no offense.”
“If you truly mean no offense, then accept the gift.” The mambo lifted her chin.
“Thank you.” Grace carefully put the wrapped amulet into the pouch then placed the pouch in her pocket.
“You are welcome.” Mambo Ayezan smiled. “This is a very powerful charm. The symbol belongs to Loa Eshu. Eshu will protect the wearer from harm. But you must not wear the amulet all the time. Eshu is very busy and does not like to be called on for no reason. Wear it only when you need it most. When you do, wrap a sweet in the red paper and leave it for Eshu. The cylinder on the gold chain contains instructions that explain how to empower the amulet and harness Loa Eshu’s good magic to your needs. ”
“If I ever believe I have need, I will do as you have said,” Grace said, trying not to scoff—or lie.
My rifle is all the protection I need. However, she saw no harm in accepting the object to keep an old woman happy. Her intent was benign, and rather sweet.
“Good, good,” Mambo Ayezan leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.
“Mambo?”
Only silence met her question. A second slightly louder query received a snuffling snore in response.
Uneasy, and uncertain, Grace left her guest asleep in the kitchen.
Morning would come soon enough. When Taddy brought the delivery, Mambo Ayezan could leave with him.
Grace’d ensure the old woman had enough money to hire transport from Duval Point to New Orleans.
She left the kitchen by the servants’ stair.
The dogs padded after her, slipping into the stairway before she could lock the door.
Placing a fist on each hip, she stared at them. They stared right back.
“What am I supposed to do with you?”
The pup with the white ear whined. His companion cocked its head.
Grace sighed. “Fine, you can come up with me, but you sleep on the floor.”
She locked the door to the kitchen and started up the stairs once more, the dogs in tow.
Once in the hall, she secured the second level stairway door, before heading to bed.
In her room the dogs settled in front of the closed door.
she placed the amulet and pouch inside her silver keepsake box, then wound the mechanism.
She climbed into bed and closed her eyes.
I wonder what Luc would make of Mambo Ayezan. On that thought, Grace drifted off to sleep.