Return to Doll Island

by Ocean

  The eyes grew larger and swayed side-to-side as whatever it was moved stealthily toward them, but Rosie could not hear a sound. Whatever it was, moved silently across the forest floor, giving the impression it floated.

  Devin took a step back, gently pulling Rosie with her.

  Rosie dared not blink.

  The animal hissed again. This time Rosie saw the teeth. Large, white and pointy. Four extremely enormous canines and numerous small teeth seemed to glow in the dark. It was close enough now that she could hear it breathing, panting through an open mouth, a low guttural growl escaping with each breath.

  “Devin? Should we run?” she asked.

  “We’d never outrun it,” Devin said.

  The animal let loose a magnificent roar and, as if out of respect, or fear, everything else in the forest quieted.

  When the lengthy roar was finished, the creator of the sound stepped out of the shadows.

  Rosie took a quick inhale.

  Before her stood the most magnificent animal that she’d ever seen.

  A black panther.

  Its dark coat reminded Rosie of a black onyx stone, completely devoid of light or color. The coal-black fur of the animal shimmered in the moonlight. Its head was like a massive block of stone that swayed in front of enormously thick shoulders. As it approached them, it moved with a combination of power and grace as it slunk silently on padded paws that would’ve dwarfed her own hands had she still been human.

  Rosie’s legs shivered. She wasn’t sure they’d move for her if she needed them to.

  “Devin,” she said, “do something.”

  The giant cat lifted its head and released another roar. Its ears were pinned back, and its eyes seemed filled with rage.

  A whimpering sound left Rosie’s throat. It was uncontrollable. She was too scared to even cry.

  “Rosie,” Devin said. “Slowly, lift the book up and turn to the spell to talk to animals.”

  Rosie responded robot-like. Her hands did what Devin had suggested. They lifted the book in front of her face, and she turned the pages, searching for the spell. But her hands shook, making the task difficult. And her mind had trouble concentrating. It was consumed by a flurry of doubts and questions.

  Could she perform a spell?

  Would it work?

  Could she really talk to this animal?

  Would it eat them before she had a chance to try?

  When she found the page, a spark of hope fluttered through her.

  She took a deep breath and began chanting.

  25

  Nice kitty

  The moonlight was dim and the words difficult to read. Rosie pulled the book up, close to her face.

  “Oooboomay, portto. Wizabee kgonb. Wizabat gnab, I mean gnabby.”

  She’d stumbled on a word. Her gaze left the page and focused on the cat. It had lowered its head and shoulders and had crept around to the side of them.

  “Devin I can’t read this. I don’t know these words,” she said. “I think it’s about to pounce.”

  “You have to Rosie. You can do it. You must do this. Try again.” Devin picked up a rock and positioned herself between the cat and Rosie.

  Rosie looked back down at the book. She spoke each word as clearly and precisely as she could.

  “Oooboomay, portto. Wizabee kgonb. Wizabat gnabby. Inta QBacko! Ashib! Ashib!”

  When Rosie lifted her gaze off the page, she saw that the panther had crouched low. She watched as it released its muscles as if letting go of a coiled spring, it shot upward with a force and power she’d never thought could be real had she not seen it with her own eyes. As if it had been shot from a canon, it bolted straight up in the air, its abrupt motion accompanied by a savage roar. It was airborne and headed toward them.

  Rosie screamed, closed her eyes and covered her head with her arms. She expected to feel the weight a hundred and fifty pounds of warm animal crash down on her, waited to feel the crunch of teeth as they penetrated her skull.

  Instead, there was nothing. Silence.

  She cracked an eye open. In front of her was Devin, also in a crouched position, but no cat. Rosie spun around. The large feline had sailed overhead and now sat, peacefully behind them, looking like an Egyptian statue. Its eyes had softened, and its mouth was closed, with the tip of a pink tongue running along its upper lip. The thick dark tail flipped like that of a kitten.

  “Do you think it worked?” Devin said as she slowly straightened.

  “It worked,” said the cat.

  Rosie gasped.

  “What did you say?” she said.

  “It worked.” The cat repeated in a calm voice.

  Rosie placed a hand to her chest.

  “By the way,” the panther said, “I had no intention of eating you. I could tell you were humans that had been cursed. It’s not every day I see dolls walking around the jungle. I was trying to figure out how to help you. But then I saw the book. That cover is very distinct. Its legendary. And when I heard you recite the spell, I knew you held the power to help me.”

  “Help you? What help do you need, and how can we help you?” Rosie asked.

  The panther remained motionless other than an occasional flick of its tail.

  “First, where are you headed? The forest is a dangerous place for those as small as you.”

  “Havana. We need to get back to Havana,” Devin said.

  The panther rose and approached them. Standing beneath it and looking up at its massive chest, it was even more immense than Rosie had realized.

  “Allow me to help. I’ll tell you my story along the way, and I want to hear yours.”

  26

  Misery likes company

  The panther rotated one of its front paws. Devin stepped on it, and the cat lifted Devin on to the back of her neck. Then she held her paw out for Rosie. Rosie stood on the pad and felt as if she was on an elevator as she was lifted and gently placed beside Devin in the animal’s broad shoulders.

  “By the way,” the panther said, “my name is Quinteria.”

  “I’m Devin,” Devin said, “and this is Rosie. Nice to meet you Quinteria.”

  “It’s nice making your acquaintance as well,” the feline said. “Now hold on tight.” Rosie slipped the book beneath one arm and gripped a handful of Quinteria’s thick hair in each hand. The panther broke into a steady trot and began her story.

  “Centuries ago, I was cursed.”

  “Let me guess,” Devin said. “Was it the early 1700’s?”

  “Yes,” Quinteria said. “How’d you know.”

  “Lucky guess,” Devin said. “Finish your story.”

  “I was just a normal woman living a normal life in the village. And there was this Shaman.”

  “Was it the Mambo?” Rosie asked.

  “Exactly, the Mambo.” Quinteria had maintained a steady jog but was not the least bit breathless. “One day, I did something that annoyed her, and she cursed me. Sent my soul into that of a panther. It could’ve been worse, I suppose. She could’ve changed me into a snake or a rodent, for that, I guess I’m thankful.”

  “What did you do that annoyed her?” Devin asked.

  “Oh, let’s just say it was an affair of the heart type of thing. You know, I loved a woman, she loved a woman. Just happened to be the same woman. You know how it goes.”

  “Geez,” Rosie said. “Jealousy sure did have some serious consequences back then.”

  “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Quinteria said. “So anyway, I’ve been stuck like this for almost three-hundred years. I never thought I’d have the chance to be human again. No Shaman or Mambo has had the power or knowledge to reverse the curse. But if I’m not mistaken, the answer to my prayers, might be in that book you’re holding.”

  “If we can help you, we will,” Rosie said.

  “Are you really almost three-hundred years old?” Devin asked.

  “Yes,” Quinteria said. “But I don’t feel that old. The curse she cast on me kept me at t
he same age. I’d be forever in my early twenties, as a panther, for eternity if I hadn’t met you. And, I’m the only panther on the island. I suppose if there’d been a few of us, it wouldn’t have been so bad, but as you can imagine, every other animal is terrified of me. It’s been quite a lonely existence.”

  “I hope we can help,” Rosie said. “I’m not very good at this spell and curse thing. I mean, being able to talk with you is the first spell I’ve ever cast.”

  “No kidding,” said the panther. “You did really well. I’m impressed. Now, tell me what happened to you. How did you end up in these nun bodies?”

  As they travelled along the path, under the moonlight, Devin and Rosie shared their story.

  “I’d heard rumors about Ria and Naomi,” Quinteria said, “but had never met them. By the time I was growing up, they were just one of many stories floating around the village about what the Mambo had done to people. I used to scoff at the rumors about what she could do, how evil she was. I was young, foolish and fearless and never believed any of it. Of course, now I know I shouldn’t have been so skeptical.”

  They’d come out of the forest and had travelled across a few fields. A couple natives saw the big cat as she trotted along. They crossed themselves and ran back inside their homes, cautiously peering out the windows.

  “They consider me to be a bad luck omen. Many don’t believe I exist since I’ve rarely been seen,” she explained. “To most, I’m known as the ‘ghost cat’.”

  When they reached the road that headed into Havana, the panther stopped.

  “Here is where we part ways, my friends,” Quinteria said as she helped them down.

  Devin checked out the moon and the horizon.

  “We’d better hurry. The sun will be up soon, and we’ll be frozen again until tonight.”

  When she was back on the ground, Rosie flipped through the book.

  “Here it is!” she said. “Reverse the curse of a soul that has been turned into a creature.”

  27

  Good deed for the day

  Quinteria sat patiently on the side of the road while Rosie reviewed the curse. When she felt she’d studied it enough, Rosie looked up and into the eyes of the big cat.

  Quintieri returned her gaze with a quiet stare of her own. A tiny tear had accumulated in the corner of each of her eyes.

  I hope this works, Rosie thought.

  “You ready?” she asked.

  The panther nodded.

  Rosie began the chant.

  “Umgumba newwamby. Sittubow bashtoid bashtoid. Hohatchy Bazzi! Bassi!”

  Under the soft light of the moon, Quinteria transformed in front of Rosie’s eyes. Her shape changed from that of a sleek, muscular panther to that of an equally sleek and muscular woman. She was stunningly beautiful with her wild dark hair and flawlessly smooth skin. She easily could’ve been a model that graced the covers of the world’s finest magazines. Her eyes remained the same luminous yellowish green as when she’d been a panther.

  “Oh my,” Rosie said.

  “Wow,” Devin echoed Rosie’s astonishment.

  Quinteria glanced down at her naked body. Her hands, with their long, slender fingers, immediately flew to her stomach, then to her breasts.

  “I’m me again!” she said. Tears streamed down the sides of her cheeks, the wet trail they left reflecting in the moonlight.

  “I’ll never be able to thank you,” she said.

  The sound of voices, horses and dogs approaching caused the three of them to stop.

  “We’d better get going,” Devin said. “We have to make it to our friend the fortune teller’s house before the sun comes up.”

  Looking back down at her nakedness, Quinteria said, “I have to go too. I need to find some clothes. Look me up if you ever get back into your own bodies and come back to Cuba.”

  “Oh, we will get back into our own bodies,” Devin said, “You can count on that.”

  Quinteria gave them each a hug. She waved good-bye and took off running toward the forest down the path they’d just travelled. Her gait was smooth, swift, and graceful like someone who runs effortlessly.

  Devin grabbed Rosie’s hand and they ran along the edge of the road headed toward Havana.

  28

  Let’s get connected

  They arrived back at the fake fortune teller’s house just before the sun was going to rise.

  Devin knocked gently as she pushed the door open, and they entered.

  “Hello?” she said.

  The woman was kneeling in front of an altar, chanting prayers. Candles and incense burned. A large crucifix with a bloody body of Christ nailed to it, hung on the wall before her.

  The woman stopped praying and looked up.

  “Did she help you?” she asked. Her eyes were red rimmed, and she dabbed at them with a tissue.

  “Well, yes and no,” Devin said. “It’s a long story. Listen, we need a favor. We only have a few minutes before the sun comes up.”

  “We become immobile at sunrise and can only move and talk at nightfall,” Rosie added.

  “Can we use your computer to access email?” Devin asked. “You can get on the internet, right?”

  “Sure,” the woman said. “I can get on the internet. It’s controlled and monitored by the government, and it’s kinda slow, but you can use it.”

  Rosie clicked on an internet icon and accessed her email provider.

  The woman blew her nose.

  “We’re sorry about your husband,” Devin said.

  The woman burst into tears and pressed the tissue against the corner of one eye.

  “My poor baby. He was a good man. He didn’t deserve what happened to him. That cursed no-good brother of his. He deserved everything he got, but not my sweet husband.” She turned toward the crucifix and made the sign of the cross.

  A sound like that of a fax started.

  “What’s that noise?” Rosie asked.

  “That’s the sound it makes when it connects,” the woman said.

  “It’s a dial up?” Devin said. “I’ve heard about this. This is how people used to get online in the olden days, at the beginning of the internet. The computer communicates through a phone line rather than by a cable or wirelessly.”

  Rosie tried logging on, but every time the familiar mail screen popped up, she’d be booted off.

  “Damn, I can’t get logged in,” she said.

  “Hurry Rosie. The sun will be up any minute.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “Let me try,” Devin pushed Rosie out of the way and tried logging on. She too was booted off every time the access to mail screen popped up. “Damn,” she said.

  “Devin,” Rosie said, “let’s think of something else.”

  Suddenly, Devin was connected.

  “I got it. Rosie, I got a signal! What’s your friend’s email address?”

  “FarmerSally at I luv farming dot com,” Rosie said. “She’s a farmer.”

  “What do you want me to say to her?”

  “Say, I’m, umm, I’ve been delayed and will be back in a few days. Would she mind watching Itchy for a while longer?”

  “Sally,” Devin spoke as she typed using one miniature solitary finger to press each letter. “Am having the time of my life. Met the most fabulous woman–”

  “Devin!” Rosie gave Devin a gentle shove.

  “Will send more details later,” Devin said. “Please watch Itchy a few more days. Thanks pal. Love Rosie.” Devin clicked send.

  “Dev–”

  A thin ray of sunshine slipped through the crack in the curtain, and Rosie froze mid-word.

  From outside the door of the fake psychic’s house, a tiny bell chimed.

  29

  Back to the boat

  A woman pushed open the door and stood in the doorway.

  “Hello Margarita. Welcome, come in, come in,” the fortune teller said. “You’re my first appointment today. I was just tidying up getting ready for you. Have a seat
. I have wonderful news for you today.”

  The fortune teller gently lifted Devin and Rosie and placed them on the shelf along with the other dolls. She leaned the small black book that Rosie was holding against them without stopping to look at it then sat at the table across from her customer.

  Rosie and Devin spent the next twelve hours listening to the fake psychic tell people’s fortunes. She filled her clients with hope and encouragement. Many left the room dabbing tears and bestowing blessings of gratitude on her.

  When she ushered the final client out the door and locked it behind her, the sun was setting. Rosie could feel her arms and legs start to come alive. It was as if they stretched, it was an odd sensation. She heard Devin moan before she was able to speak.

  The woman heard the sound also.

  “You’re coming alive again,” she said to them.

  Rosie groaned as she moved.

  “What’s it feel like, you know, to be stuck in a doll body?” the woman asked.

  “It feels like your arms and legs are turned into stone,” Rosie said. She rubbed her arms. “We don’t have time to waste. We have to get on a boat and get back to the States. Would you take us to the harbor?”

  “Yes, I can do that for you, but we must hurry. I’ll have to drop you off and get back here quickly. It’s not good for a woman to be out after dark alone.”

  She scooped Devin and Rosie up, carried them outside and placed them in the basket that hung off the front of her bicycle. Rosie clung to the book.

  “What’s that book?” the woman asked.

  “Oh, it’s um…” Rosie couldn’t think of a good answer.

  “A recipe book,” Devin blurted. “We like to cook, and we found this old recipe book.”