by Sable Hunter
“False evidence, which means all of those men who were here, were in on it, right? They know the burglars put the necklace in the house to set Easy up.”
“Yes, but they’re all Hill’s men. Loyal to a fault.” Jewel thought of Truman Lawson, but she hadn’t seen him since the day she helped find his mother. He might be in on the setup and he might not. Besides, just because he knew the truth about what she could do, didn’t mean he’d want to help her and Easy.
“If evidence exists, our spell will call it forth.”
Hazel sounded so sure. So confident. Jewel could remember when she was a child, if her mother said the sky was green, there wouldn’t have been a doubt in her mind – if she went outside and looked up, she’d find a green sky. “Okay, Mother. I believe you.”
“Perfect.” Her mother smiled.
Jewel knew admitting that she accepted what her mother proclaimed as truth…was more than empty words. With their faith came power, when they envisioned something as fact – it could become fact. “What will we do?”
“Did I ever teach you about St. Expedite?”
With a tiny furrow between her brows, Jewel thought. “Not really. I’ve heard the name, I think. Is he the centurion?”
“Right.” As she talked, Hazel poked around in the cabinet until she found what she was looking for. A cinnamon scented red candle. An athame. A small bottle of Fast Luck oil. “St. Expedite, or Expeditus, is the patron for those who need a fast solution to their problem, especially court cases. Ah, here he is.” She held up a laminated prayer card. “Born in Armenia, he was one of six soldiers beheaded at Melitene, Turkey in April 303 during the Diocletian persecution. Their crime was converting to Christianity. Legend tells us that the day Expeditus decided to convert, the Devil took the form of a crow and told him to delay the decision for a day. Expeditus stomped on the bird, declaring he would be ‘a Christian today’!”
Jewel smiled a bit wryly. “How fortuitous that his name is Expedite and he’s known for his speedy answers to prayers. Isn’t that just a little too coincidental?”
“Absolutely.” Hazel laughed as she carved Easy’s name into the candle with the athame and arranged all of the items on the table. “Expeditus is Latin for a soldier without a marching pack, one who traveled lightly and quickly, so his becoming known as the saint of rapidity and urgency seemed like a natural progression. Actually, there’s even a stranger twist to the story. The centurion’s real name was Elpidius, but something odd happened in 1781 that changed his identity. In the setting up of Our Lady of Guadalupe chapel in New Orleans, the priests sent word to Spain requesting a statue of the Virgin. Months later, two crates were delivered, one held the statue of Mary, and the other a statue of this centurion saint. The only writing on the outside of the crate was the French word ‘expedit’, meaning to rush, of course. The priests, in their innocence, thought expedite was the martyr and they prayed to him using that name. When their prayers were answered, his reputation grew. Could you pour me a fresh glass of water for my little altar here?”
Jewel hurried to do as she asked. When she returned, her mother placed the glass, along with the red candle and the card, in a triangular shape on the surface of the table. “All right. Here we go. Give me your hand.”
Almost dizzy with the speed that her mother worked, Jewel placed her hand in Hazel’s as the woman tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and began to speak…
“Saint Expedite, you lay in rest. I come to you and ask that you intercede for Ezekiel Blackhawk. He is not guilty of the crime for which he has been accused. We plead that you help us find evidence to prove his innocence. We ask that the facts be revealed, that things hidden be brought to light. Tongues loosened to tell their secrets. Eyes opened to see the truth. Without delay, bring these things to be. Release Ezekiel Blackhawk from prison.
Expedite now what I ask of you.
Expedite now what I want from you.
This very second. Don’t waste another day.
Give me what I ask for. I know your power.
I know you because of your work. I know you can do it.
Do this for me and I’ll spread your name with love and honor and cause your name to be invoked.
Expedite this wish with speed, love, honor, and goodness.
Glory to you, St. Expedite!”
Her mother’s voice had risen on the last words until they reached a crescendo that caused Jewel to jump. “Dang…” she muttered under her breath.
“Go to the kitchen and get a knife, then look in my bag and take out a container of Sarah Lee pound cake.”
“Hungry?” Jewel moved to obey her mother.
“No, Sarah Lee pound cake is St. Expedite’s offering of choice. Nothing else will do.”
“Huh. Well, I’ve heard stranger things, I guess.” With the tin container in hand, she walked to the kitchen for the knife. When she did, Jewel saw a Ford double-cab dually pulling up out front. “I think Easy’s brothers have arrived.”
“Good. Give me the cake and I’ll finish the spell. You go greet your future in-laws.”
Jewel gave her mother a hard stare as she made for the front door. “Don’t start, Mother. Now is not the time.”
“Whatever you say, dear.” Hazel gave her a breezy smile as she fed her spell with a slice of pound cake.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“Thank you for watching out for us today, I appreciate it.” Jewel stood on the bottom step speaking to Ace and Don Ray as the Blackhawk brothers found a shady place to park in front of Hazel’s house.
“You’re more than welcome, Ms. Baptiste.” Don Ray eyed the trio climbing from their vehicle. “Philip said if you need us to come back, just give him a call.”
“Thanks. I will.” Jewel tugged on the strings lacing together the front of her blue sundress. All of a sudden, she was nervous to meet Easy’s family. She couldn’t help but wonder what they would think of her.
“So, you sure can tell those dudes are related to Easy, can’t you?” Ace mumbled as he picked up an empty cola can from the ground at his feet.
He was right. Even from this distance, she could see a striking resemblance, not only to Easy, but to their father. “Yes, it must be comforting to have siblings,” she agreed as the two ranch hands moved to load up and leave. “Again, thank you both, so much.”
Jewel moved into the front yard to stand by a bed of Louisiana iris as Philip’s men left and one of the Blackhawk brothers broke from the group to walk toward her while the other two carried their luggage onto the porch of the other house. She raised a hand in a tentative greeting. “Hello.” She gave the man a tentative smile. “I’m Jewel.”
“Right. Easy’s landlady.” He offered her his hand. “I’m Samuel.”
Easy’s landlady.
Jewel shook Samuel’s hand, but the question she’d been about to ask to inquire about their trip – it just died in her throat.
“I hope we’re not bothering you, Jewel. Philip said you wouldn’t mind us staying here. If you think it’ll be a problem, we could stay at a motel.”
“No. No,” she managed to croak. “It’s fine. Won’t you all come in? I can get you something to drink.” Jewel felt a bit unsteady on her feet. She was still reeling from the way Samuel identified her – as just the landlady. Obviously, when Easy spoke with his brother, he’d failed to mention anything about their relationship.
“No, we want to get settled. We’re supposed to meet with Zane Saucier first thing in the morning.” He pointed over his shoulder to where his two brothers were waiting for him. “If…I could get a key?”
“Oh. Sure. I’ll be right back.” Almost in a trance, she returned to her house, climbed the stairs, and went in to find her purse. She walked by her mother who was watching everything from just inside the open door.
“If your Easy looks like his brothers, he’s one damn fine-looking man.”
“He’s not my Easy. I told you…we’re just…” Jewel tore at the contents of her purse, hu
nting the spare key.
“Hey, honey. I don’t have to be psychic to see something’s wrong. What happened?”
Jewel shrugged as she located the fob hooked on the inside of her bag. “Nothing. Let me get this over with. I’ll be right back.” Without meeting her mother’s eyes, she hurried back outside to give Samuel what he was waiting for.
“Thanks. Hopefully, you won’t know we’re here.” He took the key. “This whole ugly misunderstanding will be over soon, I’m sure.”
Jewel licked her lips, which were dry as sandpaper. “I hope so.”
Samuel held up the key. “Thanks for this.”
Jewel pressed her fingers to her mouth as he walked away. She wanted to shout after him – I’m not just his landlady. He’s important to me too! But…she didn’t. Instead, she went to rejoin her mother. They still had work to do.
When she arrived upstairs, Hazel was buzzing around like a bee. “I did my business in half the jars, if you’ll take care of yours, we’ll get these hung.”
“All right.” Mechanically, Jewel carried the tray to the bathroom and added part of herself to the protection spell. When she returned to the living room, it was to find her mother waiting patiently for her. “You want to tell me what happened? Or do you want me to tell you?”
“Well, if you already know, why are you asking me?” Jewel set the tray down on the reading table to begin attaching the lids and wire for hanging.
“Because you need to talk. It’s like medicine.”
“You think so?” She delayed a second or two, then sighed loudly. “I’m afraid I’m making a fool of myself.”
“How so?” Hazel began rummaging around in the bottom of another cabinet. “I hope to heck you have enough red brick dust to lay a good line.”
“I have two five-gallon buckets of the stuff in the shed under the stairs,” Jewel told her, finding a basket to carry the jars. “I still get my red brick dust from old Malachi, just like you always did.”
“Good.” Hazel winked at her daughter as she helped place the witch jars in the basket, using placemats and napkins to cushion them from bumping into one another. “His dust is the best. He only uses original New Orleans soft reds.”
“You know, I tried to tell one of my curious clients about the soft reds once, she thought I was talking about a species of Gulf seafood or a type of Creole dish. She couldn’t fathom why those old bricks were so valuable.”
“Or why they would’ve been used at all,” Hazel mumbled as she changed her shoes. “But in those days people made do with what they had. The soft reds were formed from New Orleans clay. Poor quality. Crumbly. Builders had to add stucco or a render of lime to make them structurally sound.”
“For a brick, they are beautiful.” Jewel went to the kitchen to get a small mop bucket from beneath the sink to hold the brick dust.
Hazel followed her, the basket of jars in hand. “They’re a part of our history. On some of them you can see the thumbprints of their maker, sometimes a name, or a date. Imperfect. Unique. Rare. They tell a story. The only way Malachi gets his hands on them is when an old warehouse, church, or other building is torn down.”
“And yet…we want them crumbled into dust.”
Hazel laughed. “All that history makes them powerful. Old Malachi adds his own dose of magick to them. Did you know he whispers chants as he sits and pulverizes them with a hammer?”
“No, but I’m not surprised. He adheres to the old ways pretty closely.” She stood up with bucket in hand, having emptied out the cleaning supplies she’d stored inside. “Ready to go?”
“Let’s do this.”
So, mother and daughter, left to walk the boundary of their property, hanging witch bottles at equal intervals – some from the low hanging branches of oaks draped with Spanish moss, some from the branches of bald cypress whose feet were buried deep in the bog, and others from the limbs of the swamp tupelo, the black gum whose fruit produced the most glorious honey in the world. As they attached the filled Mason jars with hooks, Jewel whispered the words of the spell.
Turn aside my enemies, stop their feet in their tracks. Let fear rise in their hearts. Let my enemies know that I am protected.
While they moved from tree to tree, Hazel laid a line of red brick dust along their path, repeating the words of a powerful Psalm.
Fight my enemies, Lord. Attack my attackers. Shield me and help me. Aim your spear at everyone who hunts me down, but promise to save me. Let all who want to kill me be disappointed and disgraced.
None of this was new to Jewel, she’d seen her mother work this spell several times before. Once, it was when she was small and Hazel wanted to keep a black panther from coming too near to where she played in the yard. Another time, it was to keep an infestation of water moccasins from crawling near the house. Jewel could remember seeing a large snake crawl up to the line of brick dust, flick it with his tongue, then turn to slither away in the opposite direction.
Chase away and confuse all who plan to harm me. Send your angel after them and let them be like straw in the wind. Make them run in the dark on a slippery road as your angel chases them.
I did them no harm, but they hid a net to trap me, and they dug a deep pit to catch and kill me. Surprise them with disaster! Trap them in their own nets and let them fall and rot in the pits they have dug.
This evening, however, the creature they were trying to keep at bay wasn’t a snake or a panther…it was a man. Or…men. From what Jewel knew of Everett, the three things meant to scare her – the snake with the mouse in its mouth, the writing on her windshield, and the nasty message on the Palm Reader sign – seemed a bit tame for him. If he was the one who’d raped and killed those women, assaulting their poor bodies, his taste in violence ran much hotter than these veiled threats. Perhaps, she should try to read the damaged sign or the paint on the windshield. She sure didn’t want to try her hand at reading the snake or the mouse.
Walking slowly by her mother, her thoughts flowed as freely as the red brick dust from her fingertips. There was so much to consider. She didn’t think they’d given enough consideration to what Wren Rabalais could tell them. If what she’d witnessed had indeed been Marion Cole’s murder, that proved Everett didn’t act alone. Everyone knew how close the Hill brothers were, but others could be involved also. The next time she talked to Philip or Zane, Jewel intended to remind them about the possibility.
I will celebrate and be joyful because you, Lord, have saved me. Every bone in my body will shout: “No one is like the Lord!” You protect the helpless from those in power. You save the poor and needy from those who hurt them. Liars accuse me of crimes I know nothing about. They repay evil for good, and I feel all alone.
As they came to the back side of the property, the women really had to watch their footing. The underbrush grew thick, the soil was saturated with water. The red brick dust Jewel dropped was immediately absorbed into the mud. She hoped this did not negate its power. The words were on her lips to ask Hazel her opinion, when what her mother was saying struck a chord within her. Liars accuse me of crimes I know nothing about. This was exactly the calamity that had befallen Easy. Accused of murder. Her heart ached for him. What he must be going through. What he must be feeling. Yes, she couldn’t deny how much it had hurt when she realized he hadn’t told his brother they were… What? An item? Dating? A couple? She didn’t know what to call it – and maybe Easy didn’t know either. All she could hold on to was the reality of what they’d shared, how he’d made her feel, and the way he’d touched her – heart and soul. These emotions and the sweet memories they’d made together fueled Jewel’s determination to make damn sure he didn’t have to pay for someone else’s crimes.
When they were sick, I wore sackcloth and went without food. I truly prayed for them, as I would for a friend or a relative. I was in sorrow and mourned, as I would for my mother. I have stumbled, and worthless liars I don’t even know surround me and sneer. Worthless people make fun and never stop laughing
. But all you do is watch! When will you do something? Save me from the attack of those vicious lions.
As they made their way near the boardwalks and docks, Jewel realized she found her mother’s voice soothing. She hadn’t been merely telling Hazel what she wanted to hear when she’d said she missed her. Even though she’d tried to hold onto her anger, the love she felt for her mother had never waned. When Hazel asked how the people in town were treating her after all these months, Jewel intentionally hadn’t gone into any detail. She’d rather her mother not know their neighbors were still angry enough to treat her like a pariah. The people of the town chose not to remember all the years before, when Hazel had helped them in so many different situations. None of that goodwill remained. Yes, she knew her mother had made a very costly mistake – but it had been a mistake. Jewel wondered what it would take for them to be forgiven.
And when your people meet, I will praise you and thank you, Lord, in front of them all. Don’t let my brutal enemies be glad because of me. They hate me for no reason. Don’t let them wink behind my back. They say hurtful things, and they lie to people who want to live in peace. They are quick to accuse me. They say, “You did it! We saw you ourselves.”
Having come full circle, Jewel hung the last of the witch jars, while Hazel closed the ends of the red brick dust line. As her mother dropped the last speck from her fingertips, she closed her eyes to whisper, “My will be done. So, mote it be.” They stood in silent respect for a few moments, bowing their heads to the powers of the universe before Hazel raised her eyes to give Jewel a wink. “Now, let that son-of-a-bitch try to cross that line. I hope his feet catch on fire.”
Laughing, Jewel remembered how she’d massacred the long link of sausage. “He may have more problems than he can deal with. I put a hard hex on his male equipment.”
“Ha! That’s hitting him where he lives.” Hazel put a protective arm around her daughter. “Now, all we have to do is wait for St. Expedite to work. Knowing him, we won’t have to wait long.”