Chapter Eleven
The next morning, Ophelia headed downstairs dressed for mass in a cream midi-length sundress that showed off her summer tan.
Mawmaw was sitting in the kitchen waiting as Lucille cooked breakfast. Mawmaw looked wonderful in her Sunday best with her long gray hair carefully braided over her shoulder, a small dragonfly hairpiece pinned just at the beginning of the braid. She was a vision. A true matriarch.
Sunday mass was as expected. Ophelia went through the motions.
Stand, sit, kneel. Stand, sit, kneel. Ophelia carefully observed those around her to see how they interacted with her grandmother as a handful of people stopped by to say hello after mass.
All were kind. She didn’t see any signs that her church friends thought she was out of her mind.
Furthermore, Ophelia firmly believed that she wasn’t.
Ophelia had stayed up late the night before, going over everything Mawmaw told her and taught her.
She cogitated on it. Poked holes in it. Questioned it but came up short.
Why couldn’t magic like this exist? And what was the difference between a miracle recognized by an old man in a funny hat and her grandmother treating someone by laying her hands on them?
One thing kept sticking with her. Mawmaw had said, “I’m sure there’s so much more out there that even I don’t know.” What else was out there? What folklore was real and fake? Vampires and werewolves? Surely not. Mermaids? The Rougarou? What about levitators and spellcasters?
What she did know for certain was that her grandmother was not crazy. After yesterday and all that she learned, she knew her grandmother was brilliant. Wonderful. The most compassionate woman alive. If Jack couldn’t see that, then it was his own fault.
Mass ended with a procession led by the priest and followed by the altar servers, then the congregation. As Ophelia and Mawmaw made their way to the Lincoln in the parking lot, a disheveled-looking woman rushed over to them carrying a red, squirmy baby.
“Mrs. Ophelia, Mrs. Ophelia,” she called, out of breath.
“Take a deep breath, wont’cha,” Mawmaw said as the woman gulped down air.
“My baby. She’s so colicky,” she said, wiping sweat from her freckled forehead. “She’s not sleepin’…ever. I’m not sleepin’. Please, will you help us?”
“That’s a precious baby you got there.” Mawmaw’s sharp eyes examined the baby’s head as she cooed sweet words over her. “Go get in your car and meet me at my house,” Mawmaw said to the mom.
Ophelia could not believe her luck. She was going to see her Mawmaw treat! She would finally put to rest the idea that this gift of hers was a mockery.
When they returned to the house, Mawmaw brought the mother and child into the treating parlor and sat her in the wingback chair in the corner as Ophelia fixed sweet teas.
As Ophelia set the glass of iced tea on the side table for the mother, Mawmaw asked Ophelia to close the parlor doors. From her chair, Mawmaw continued to dole out tasks.
“Mom,” said Mawmaw to the mother. “Place your babe on the altar and remove her onesie. Keep her diaper on, of course. Can’t have a mess everywhere.”
The mom gently placed her child onto the altar as the baby’s screams intensified, her face turning an unnatural shade of magenta.
The child squirmed in anguish on the cold altar as the mother removed her clothes.
Ophelia immediately noticed the baby’s stomach moving uncomfortably with gas, like the child’s organs were knotted, shifting under her skin.
“Ophelia, light the incense and candle, close the drapes, and grab me the dish with fresh holy water.”
Ophelia moved swiftly into action, and the baby’s cries softened as the room filled with the warm light of a single candle.
Looking at Ophelia, Mawmaw said, “Help me to my walker, and we’ll stand at the altar.”
Mawmaw, Ophelia, and the baby’s mother stood over the screaming infant. Mawmaw turned to the mother. “My granddaughter will be assisting today. She’s learning to treat. Is that alright with you, Mom?”
The woman nodded.
“Good. Now, we will begin.” Mawmaw squared her shoulders as much as she physically could. “Ophelia, darling, clear your mind like I taught you.” Ophelia focused on her breath as Mawmaw did the same. “Good. Now, I’ll place my hands on the child’s stomach and let your gift flow to her, healing her.”
Her grandmother stood slightly hunched over the child with her bony hands pressed gently into the child’s roiling stomach.
Mawmaw’s brows furrowed slightly and then released.
She began to pray. Ophelia recognized the prayer and joined her in the recitation.
The hum of their combined voices was relaxing and hypnotic.
They prayed over the child for what felt like an hour, but was only a couple of minutes.
Finally, the prayer concluded, and the entire healing room’s energy had shifted. Ophelia’s skin tingled.
Mawmaw sighed. “Ah, silence.”
The mother broke the stillness with a guttural sob.
Ophelia smiled as her eyes began to fill with her own tears.
Ophelia picked up the baby and examined her.
Her color had returned to a perfect pink, and her stomach was smooth.
Ophelia was amazed as she held the baby close to her chest and gently kissed her forehead.
“I hope you feel better, little one,” she whispered as she passed the baby to her mother.
The mother cradled her. “Thank you, thank you, oh God, thank you,” she whispered hysterically through tears.
Ophelia was on a high. She witnessed her grandmother healing a baby. Her mind was reeling all over again. This gift was real. Jack was going to eat shit when she told him all about what she had witnessed.
Mawmaw and Ophelia sat on the back porch staring out into the pines.
“That was amazing, Mawmaw.”
“Thank you, darlin’. You know you helped, too, right?”
“I did?” she asked, shocked.
Mawmaw hummed. “I could feel your energy. You will inherit the gift quite well.”
Ophelia beamed.
“You’ll come back next weekend?” asked Mawmaw as she turned her head toward Ophelia.
“I can’t next weekend, I’m hosting a party.” Ophelia wiggled her eyebrows with mischief. Mawmaw huffed in response. “Then the following weekend is Evangeline’s bachelorette party in New Orleans.”
“Ah, yes. Do you like this man of hers?”
“I suppose,” said Ophelia, shrugging. “But after those two weekends, I’m all yours. Promise.”
“That is fine. The next time I see you, I’d like to pass the gift on to you.”
“Already?” She was both terrified and excited by the idea. She still needed to figure out how she was going to use her gift, but she would figure it out. She had to.
“Yes, well, I need to pass it on soon, so you can fully practice under my guidance. Unfortunately, the process of passing the gift on is not easy.”
“What do you mean?” Ophelia asked hesitantly.
“I’ll have another Traiteur come over to help next time. Well, he was a Traiteur but passed the gift to his grandson a couple years ago. So I’ll get them both to come help with your Passing.”
“Cool. I’d love to meet more Traiteurs. What does ‘the Passing’ entail?”
“Well, I will pass my gift to you, and in doing so, you will feel the world’s pain.
I’m talking all-consuming pain from head to toe.
Internal, external, mind-bending pain, but the Passing lasts for a second.
” Mawmaw paused to examine Ophelia’s reaction.
She tried to keep her face neutral, but a frisson of fear ran through her.
“However,” Mawmaw continued, “because it is such an intense second, the aftershocks are brutal. Like vomiting, the shakes, muscle spasms, fainting, the occasional diarrhea. The works.”
“Okayyyy…”
“Which is why Brutus and his grandson will be here. They will treat your aftershock symptoms, so the effects are minimal. Understand?”
“Yes... But I’m not going to lie and say I’m not nervous. It sounds violent.”
“It can be. Everyone responds differently, but the good thing is that we will have a Traiteur here to help you. I will no longer be able to treat once I pass the gift on.”
“And are you sure you are ready for that? To give it up?”
“I’m tired, darlin’,” she said with a sigh. “I wanna spend the rest of my days listening to the cicadas, drinking sweet tea, and visiting with my friends and family. It’s time.”
Ophelia leaned across the rocking chair and held her grandmother’s hand. They continued to slowly rock and gaze out onto the land, listening to the soothing sounds of birds and bugs.
On the ride home with Jack, Ophelia combed through a tangle of feelings as she watched the cypress trees pass by over the Atchafalaya Basin.
She was so grateful to her grandmother, yet incredibly saddened that she would be taking away her gift.
This community was going to lose their Traiteur.
Was she truly the right person to take the gift?
Ophelia did not tell Jack about what she had learned over the weekend, and she had no plans to.
He had made up his mind already about Mawmaw.
To challenge his prejudice seemed too taxing on her emotions, so they sat in silence on the drive back to New Orleans.
At some point, the warmth from the sun beaming through the car window and the hum of the engine lulled her to sleep.