by Boris Bacic
Fabiola glanced at the message and then at the vèvè.
“Oh, Bondye, why would she draw this vèvè? It is an evil vèvè!”
“That’s not true. This is Papa Legba’s vèvè, isn’t it?” Jill insisted.
Fabiola shook her head. She looked around the room, and her focus was captured by one of the books. She went over to it and picked it up, continuously muttering in her language while flipping through the pages.
“Ah!” she exclaimed a minute later, and approached the sisters.
She turned the page so that both of them could see the book clearly. Cheryl saw the vèvè of Papa Legba with some text under it. It was the same as the one on the wall. Fabiola pointed to the vèvè in the book with her forefinger and said.
“You see? This is Papa Legba’s vèvè, wi?”
“Okay,” Jill voiced and nodded.
Fabiola slid her finger to the top line of the vèvè and then pointed to the vèvè on the wall. Cheryl noticed that the vèvè on the wall had just one short, inconspicuous line drawn diagonally across the top vertical line. The one in the book didn’t.
Fabiola pointed to the vèvè in the book one more time.
“This is Papa Legba’s vèvè,” she repeated before pointing to the wall. “That is a trickster spirit vèvè.”
Chapter 28
“Come again?” Jill asked.
“Wi,” Fabiola nodded. “Trickster spirit.”
Cheryl and Jill looked at each other incredulously. Cheryl had a look of dismay on her face. Whatever this trickster spirit was, it was evidently not good, especially given how Fabiola reacted.
“So, what exactly is a trickster spirit?” Cheryl asked.
Fabiola licked a finger and continued flipping through the pages of the book. A minute went by—or it could have been minutes.
“Ah!” the mambo exclaimed triumphantly and turned the book so that the sisters could see it.
A moment later, Jill realized that Fabiola was actually handing the book to her. Jill took it, feeling its immense weight as she glanced over the open pages.
There was a title on the top that said ‘BE CAREFUL WHO YOU INVOKE’ with some text under it. Jill focused as she read the words.
Summoning a loa can be a difficult process. Vodouisants who wish to summon one must first perfect the drawing of the vèvè. Oftentimes, Vodouisants who practice invoking the loa need to repeat the process many times until the loa decides to show up to them. Remember what we mentioned earlier in the book—the loa can choose if they want to present themselves to us, depending on the nature of our summons.
You need to be aware not only of the drawing of your vèvè, but you also need to do extensive research to find out which loa to summon. For example, you will have much more luck tending to your garden if you invoke Azaka Medeh, the loa of harvest and agriculture.
Sometimes, the wrong loa will show up to you, and it will be up to you to determine who it is. This is especially important because some loa enjoy riddles and pranks, and will therefore not tell you who they really are. In the worst-case scenarios, your ignorance will offend them.
However, while you should be careful not to summon the wrong loa who you may disrespect unknowingly, you should be even more careful of summoning trickster spirits.
These malevolent beings prey on innocent people—especially ones who have recently lost a loved one and are trying to get in touch with them. They are almost never summoned with an intention because they have no other purpose than to wreak havoc on one’s life, but unfortunately, they often find their ways into the lives of those who practice Vodou, as well as other spiritualities.
That is why it is important whenever you are summoning a spirit of any kind to ask it many questions in order to determine if it is a trickster spirit or not. Most often, trickster spirits will pretend to be the spirit you desired to summon, through lies and vague answers and will almost always ask permission to enter your home. While spirits cannot physically enter your home without permission, they can do so once you have given them the go-ahead.
Once a trickster spirit is in your home, getting rid of it is a long and difficult process.
Jill looked up from the book. Fabiola had an expectant stare. Cheryl was still reading so Jill handed the book to her to finish the page.
“I don’t understand,” Jill said. “It says here that trickster spirits are never summoned on purpose.”
“Wi,” Fabiola nodded, but offered no explanation.
“Well then, what do you suggest happened? Did our mom accidentally summon a trickster spirit?”
“You must understand, Vodou is complicated. Drawing a vèvè is very hard. Mambos and houngans must practice drawing vèvès over and over until it is perfect. Your mother was not a mambo, was she?”
“Not for all we knew,” Jill shrugged. “So I guess Mom tried to draw Papa Legba’s vèvè for protection, but ended up messing it up, right?
Cheryl finished reading the book. She flipped back and forth through the next pages.
“There’s nothing here on how to get rid of trickster spirits,” she said.
“Non,” Fabiola shook her head. “Getting rid of trickster spirits is a difficult process. Come.”
She waved one arm for the sisters to follow her out of the room. Cheryl closed the book and put it back on the shelf. Fabiola led them back to their mother’s room, where she knelt next to the bed and grabbed Annette by the wrist.
“Your mother visited a Haitian cave, that’s what you said, wi?” she asked.
“Yes, that’s what our neighbor told me. The one… the one who died,” Cheryl retorted.
“Wi,” Fabiola nodded.
She slowly pulled up the sleeve of Annette’s pajama, revealing a marking on her forearm. Jill leaned closer, and indeed, there was a mark there, similar to a vèvè, as if done as a crude tattoo in black ink.
“Your mother was marked by Kalfou,” Fabiola said ominously.
“Kal-who?” Cheryl frowned.
“Kalfou is the most dangerous loa in Haitian Vodou. You do not want to summon him. Instead of summoning him, you want to tell Kalfou, ‘Leave me alone’.”
“I don’t understand. What does this Kalfou have to do with our mother?” Cheryl asked.
“Your mother, she visited the cave in Haiti, wi?”
“Yes.”
“She trespassed there, and Kalfou saw her. There is a reason why the cave is not entirely open. And your mother, she went to the forbidden place.”
“So, she walked somewhere where she shouldn’t have, Kalfou saw her, and then what?”
“He marked her. See?” she pointed to the mark on Annette’s forearm again.
“I still don’t get how this trickster spirit comes into play. Is the trickster spirit Kalfou?”
“Non. Kalfou is a loa. Trickster spirit is a trickster spirit. When your mother returned home from that Haitian cave, she was scared, and rightly so. Kalfou can destroy people’s lives very quickly. Most of the times he just causes some damage before he gets bored, but your mother didn’t know that. She was scared. She tried to summon Papa Legba for protection, but instead, she summoned a trickster spirit.”
“What are we supposed to do now?”
“In order to save your mother, you have to get rid of the trickster spirit. I can help you with that, but it will be difficult.”
And costly, she probably wanted to say.
“What if we fail to save her?” Jill asked.
Cheryl jerked her head towards Jill.
“What do you mean?” Fabiola asked.
“I mean, can this spirit follow us home and ruin our lives if we don’t resolve it?”
Cheryl’s look of intrigue turned into one of judgment. Jill knew that her sister knew why she was asking this question, but right now, she didn’t care what Cheryl thought. If a life had to be traded for another life, then Annette was at the bottom of the priority ladder, and that was not up for debate.
“The spirit usually either
attaches itself to a house or to a particular person. In this case, it is attached to your mother.”
“So that means that Cheryl and I are safe, right?” Jill asked with slight relief washing over her.
“We’re not leaving Mom for this thing to torture and kill,” Cheryl raised her tone.
“I didn’t say we would.”
“That’s what you were thinking.”
“Are we gonna go through this again, Cheryl?” Jill was tired of Cheryl’s outbursts, and she didn’t plan on taking her shit anymore.
“Tanpri, mezanmi, tanpri,” Fabiola raised her palms, each towards one sister. “No need to argue. We will save your mother, oke?”
Jill and Cheryl stared at each other a moment longer with near-hostility. Jill was the first one who looked away. The only sound that remained in the room was the machine’s beeping.
“Hey,” Fabiola said softly but authoritatively. “You want to fight like children? Do it. But wait until your mother is saved from the trickster spirit. Now, what will it be?”
She angrily stared at Cheryl and Jill, placing her closed fists on her hips and her nostrils flared from her visible frustration.
“Fine,” Cheryl crossed her arms.
Jill silently nodded.
“Good,” Fabiola nodded, and her face instantly turned back to a less gloomy expression.
Without another word, she strode out of the room, leaving Cheryl and Jill alone. Jill nodded and followed, motioning to Cheryl to stay with her.
“Let’s go after her, I guess,” she said.
Fabiola went outside the house to her miniature car and opened the trunk. Jill remained a slight distance from her, mostly because she didn’t want to breathe down the woman’s neck as she rummaged through the things.
A short time later, she slammed the trunk shut, and when she turned to face the house, she had a dusty, tattered suitcase in her hand. It looked ancient, and it bulged on one end, indicating that it was filled with too many things that barely fit inside.
“What have you got there?” Cheryl asked, pointing to the suitcase.
“A shrunken skull, a voodoo doll, chicken eyeballs, and snake venom,” Fabiola recited.
Jill wrinkled her nose while Cheryl gave the mambo a sour smile. And then, Fabiola burst into a cackle.
“I joke!” she said as her laughter died down, and made her way past the confused sisters into the house.
***
Jill and Cheryl followed Fabiola back to Annette’s office. Jill couldn’t help but notice how the Vodou priestess made herself at home, exploring each corner of the house the way she liked, not bothering to ask the hosts for permission.
Once all three of them were in the room, Fabiola cleared a spot and placed her suitcase on the floor. She undid the clasps and the suitcase practically burst from the released pressure inside.
Fabiola widely opened it, revealing the contents inside. There were no chicken eyeballs, or snake venom, but there may as well have been. There was a dried chicken leg, very similar to what Annette had in the office, there was chalk, some candles, a miniature drum, and other trinkets that Jill couldn’t recognize.
The mambo began cautiously, and with care, removing items from the suitcase, gently placing them on the floor in front of herself. By now, all three women were sitting on the floor, with Jill and Cheryl patiently waiting to see what Fabiola would do next.
As intrigued as Jill was by all of this, she couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable, too. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she and Cheryl were getting into something from which there would be no turning back.
When Jill glanced at her little sister, she saw a concerned look in her eye. Cheryl followed Fabiola’s movements without blinking, undoubtedly sensing that something big was coming up.
Once Fabiola placed all the necessary items in front of herself, she clapped her hands together and smiled, glancing between the two sisters.
“Now, which one of you two will be the horse?”
“The horse?” Jill raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, you want to get your mother back, wi?”
“Yes!” Cheryl loudly stated before Fabiola even finished the sentence.
Fabiola looked at her with that same bland smile plastered to her face.
“To save your mother, we need to invoke a loa. And to invoke a loa, we need a horse.”
“Mind explaining what that means, exactly?” Jill inquired, gritting her teeth.
She really wasn’t in the mood for this shit.
“It means,” Fabiola said calmly. “That one of you will need to let a loa possess you.”
Chapter 29
For a moment, Cheryl and Jill stared at each other in confusion. Let a Vodou loa possess them? What on earth was this woman’s game plan? For a moment, Cheryl contemplated the possibility of Fabiola actually serving an evil loa and doing its bidding. Maybe Fabiola’s job was exactly that—to cause evil and destruction to unsuspecting victims.
“No. No fucking way,” Cheryl blurted out.
“I don’t understand,” Jill calmly said. “How in the hell is letting a loa possess one of us going to help us in any way?”
Fabiola raised a hand and began gesturing.
“We summon a benevolent loa to possess you, and while you’re possessed, you are able to traverse the crossroads,” she said.
“Crossroads? What’s that? Is that some kind of Vodou limbo?” Jill asked.
“In a manner of speaking, yes. Crossroads connect all our worlds and everything else. Papa Legba is the loa responsible for opening the crossroads to us. However, Papa Legba would not open to us the path that we want to travel.”
“And what path is that?” Cheryl interjected.
“The one where the trickster spirit has your mother.”
Silence fell on the room once more, deafeningly so this time. Cheryl looked at Jill. Jill looked down, visibly uncomfortable. One of them would need to allow the loa to possess them, and who knows what kind of risks that entailed.
“I’ll do it,” Cheryl said with alacrity.
Fabiola and Jill looked at her.
“Hold up, Cheryl, you can’t just jump into this,” Jill objected. “We don’t even know what the hell this means, let alone what to do.”
“We have no other choice,” Cheryl shrugged.
Jill opened her mouth, but quickly closed it, not saying a thing. She turned to Fabiola and pointed a finger at her.
“Why can’t you be the one to do it?”
“Someone needs to summon the loa, and someone needs to tell it to leave in case things go bad.”
“Jill, it’s fine,” Cheryl interjected and looked at Fabiola. “I’ll do it. But I need you to tell me everything first.”
Fabiola nodded. She moved closer to Cheryl and began explaining, “Before I invoke the loa, you need to clear your mind. The loa needs to feel welcome to possess you. You must understand that unlike in Christianity, Haitians want the loa to possess them. It is a great honor. And the loa do not possess those who do not want it.”
“And what exactly will happen after the loa possesses me?” Cheryl asked.
She had already come to terms with the fact that she would go through this. She had to—for Mom’s sake.
“In usual rituals, the horse would have no memory of the time they were possessed. Depending on the loa that we invoke, your physical body will display those behaviors. But in the ritual that we will perform here, your spirit will be transported to the crossroads. There, you must find your mother.”
“How do I do that?”
Fabiola shook her head, and it sent Cheryl’s hopes crashing.
“Only you will know, cheri,” the mambo said. “Follow familiar paths, don’t wander into obscured areas, and ignore the dead.”
“The dead?”
Fabiola nodded.
“The crossroads are full of spirits of the dead, those who angered the loa, or who simply got lost, and are now doomed to wander forever, always looking for
their way home, but never finding it.”
Cheryl heard the expression of blood running cold many times in her life, but she never attributed it to an actual, physical meaning. Now, as she listened to Fabiola, she found that she could feel herself becoming cold, and finally understanding where the phrase came from.
“And this trickster spirit you mentioned; what exactly is it doing to our mom?”
“Keeping her soul captive, feeding off it. Until there is nothing left to eat.”
“And Kalfou?”
“Gone. If he ever was here, he left a long time ago.”
Cheryl sucked in a deep breath. The thought of that black figure from her dreams came back to her mind. Is that what she would be facing off against? If so, how would she be able to win?
“What is the worst-case scenario that could possibly happen?” Jill asked.
Fabiola grimaced, her eyes fixated up at the ceiling, “There are many things that could go wrong. She could get lost and end up like your mother, trapped in a coma-like state. The trickster spirit could latch onto her. And if she spends too long on the crossroads, or possessed by the loa, she could die.”
“Alright, that’s enough!” Jill’s raised voice echoed loudly in the room. “You expect me to let my sister put herself in such danger?! And for what?! A small, almost impossible chance of bringing our mother back?!”
She looked at Cheryl with pleading eyes.
“Cheryl, please. Don’t do this,” she implored.
Cheryl sighed and looked down at the floor. On the one hand, Jill was right. This was a huge risk. On the other hand, Mom was in danger. Cheryl remembered her childhood and how Mom took care of her. That gave her enough courage to make her decision.
“I’m doing this,” she said.
“Cheryl…”
“It’s risky, I know. And I also know you wouldn’t do this for Mom, because you don’t love her. But I do. You always said that you wished you had more time with Dad. I feel the same way about Mom.”
Her voice quivered, and her vision got blurry from the tears that formed in her eyes. She noticed that Jill’s lips started quivering, too.