Souxie Lafayette #3
“Just so you know, yall baby was about to get tossed in that crib with all that crying by the way.”
He simply grinned.
“What type of God mama are you if you can’t handle a crying baby, Nessa?” He asked.
“Auntie…I’m an Auntie. Ain’t no damn God Mama.
Don’t put God children on my uterus,” she huffed as she sat her duffle bag down on the coffee table.
She began going through her things. She was a witch alright and not just any witch, I knew that low country twang from anywhere.
She was a Dubois of the Southern Five, just like Xavier Martin.
She was one of the five most well-known historical black witch families.
“My name is Vanessa Dubois of the Dubois Family,” she announced, introducing herself as she pulled out an empty jar to examine.
“Yes, yes,” she suddenly waved with her hand.
“I’m part of the Southern Five witch families, but for the record!
We don’t participate in the Underground nonsense.
We have our own dealings above ground. Okay?
I’m a lead investigator at The Mortal Affairs Department.
I’m going to make this brief. Please do not speak, do not say anything as it may trigger the last remnants of this blood contract.
We don’t need a dead Poette. We need a living Poette, yes? Yes, okay.”
“What is she talking about?” Ms. Norwood asked. “What is this? What’s happening now?”
“Lettie Dubois was the woman who forced a break up between Marvin and Poette. She forced your conception into this world, and a terrible fake marriage of Mary–––Well you know the story. Oh!” She gasped as she looked at Himora.
“Did you tell her what I thought about her killing her boyfriend? That was Lettie’s curse causing you to turn on him. I’m sure of it–––”
“Ness?” Trevor cut in with a stern tone. She looked around, reading the room before clearing her throat with a nod.
“You right, no need to rehash it. All parties involved were on some dumb shit. Anyway…Poette is on the verge of remembering everything at once. I believe that is the last detail of the contract that can possibly kill her where she stands so it’s…
Important,” pulling out a small plastic bag of white powder.
“That we numb the mind before her last breath–––”
“Her last breath–––W–what are you talking about?!” Ms. Norwood stammered. Vanessa looked pointedly at Ms. Norwood.
“We will do our best to send her off with grace and protection. Her time from what I hear on the other side was coming anyway. If you have anything you wish to say, final words…gather your family to see her…I think it would be best if all children were present–––”
“What are you talking about?!”
“She’s walking up the driveway now,” Himora calmly said.
“Trevor, do it now,” Vanessa let out. Trevor’s body suddenly twisted about, contorting with snaps and crackling of his bones with his skin twisting and darkening by the second.
His back bent over with the arching spine sticking out as he shrunk into a hunched over woman with deep wrinkles and heavy-set eyes.
Ms. Norwood gasped just as the front door opened.
Trevor, who was still dressed as himself, was now the identical mirror image of Poette Davis down to the way she walked.
So when Poette Davis stood in the doorway, her eyes went to her own reflection, staring back at herself with a confused expression.
She wore a knitted bucket hat, some wide leg orange pants and matching orange shirt that came below her hips.
She held on to the doorway to steady herself when Vanessa suddenly blew a mixture of powder from her hand to Ms. Davis’s face.
She stumbled back with panic settling in her eyes before blacking out.
I could hear Isis gasp while the men carefully grabbed her and brought her slumped over body back into the house.
The photo album that Ms. Norwood brought out was knocked down from the coffee table as I quickly picked it up.
There were a few loose pictures pinched in between the folds but one in particular caught my attention just as I was about to close it.
“Can somebody explain what the hell is going on?!” Ms. Norwood shouted. “Wh–what is this?! What are you talking about Lettie and my mother dying!? She’s not sick! She’s not–––”
“As I explained earlier. There was a previous blood contract placed on your mother…”
I pulled the polaroid closer for a look and felt my heart start to beat wildly against my chest. Looking up at Isis for her attention, she looked down at the photo as her brows furrowed together, confused.
It was a picture of Maggie as a little girl, she couldn’t have been no more than three or four standing on the curve holding a pinwheel in her hand.
Her white hair was barely covered by the Braves baseball hat while a little girl sat down on the curb with her legs stretched out looking to the side.
She held her own pinwheel to the side as she looked off to the distance like she was staring at someone.
Her skin was dark in the old photo and her dark hair was braided down.
She looked younger than Maggie with her full cheeks and baby features slowly growing out.
The sun shined directly in her face, creating an orb that hit the corner of her head, but it was still obvious who it was, even with a peak of her features coming out of the rays.
“Is that Ayira?” Isis asked. We stared at each other before I looked down at the photo again.
Everyone else was moving and talking over one another around us when I felt a hand on the back of my shoulder.
I looked up seeing Namir leaning down like an overprotective parent that kept his eyes on the target.
“Get back to the grounds and be on the lookout just in case Maggie turns up,” he whispered.
“We can stay with you.” I said as I tucked the photo in my bra. “Isis and I–––”
“Nah, I got em,” Solomon said as he motioned for Isis to follow him. “Come on. This needs to be between families. We did our part.”
“My man!” Namir called out to Harvey just as they laid Maggie’s grandmother on the couch. Her limp body looked lifeless as they let her arms cross over her body. Her eyes slowly opened to stare at us with a glossy glass filter over her gaze. She was completely stunned.
“Somebody better start speaking before I call the damn police!” Ms. Norwood shouted. That was more than enough for us to gather our things and leave. It was subtle but I caught Solomon’s hand on the lower part of Isis’s back as he guided her towards the driveway when another car pulled up.
“You good Souxie?!” Solomon shouted after closing the door on Isis in the back seat.
Harvey was already starting his car when I nodded, keeping the stolen childhood photo close to my chest. One last look at the house, I could see Trevor who was still presenting as Maggie’s grandmother, shuffled his slow dragging feet towards the doorway with a small wave as if everything was okay.
They had to play for the neighbors who might be watching but anyone with common sense could see something wasn’t right.