by Ocean
“What am I going to do?” It was a moan more than a question.
Naomi released Rosie’s wrists and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“We’ll help. If there’s a way to get her back, we will.”
“Do you think there’s a way?”
Rosie searched their faces, hoping for an answer. There was an odd familiarity to them though they were in different bodies.
“How about the book?” Ria suggested. “Do you think there’s anything in it that could help?”
“The book! I’d forgotten about the book.” Rosie glanced wildly around. “Where is it?” She spotted it laying discarded beside the grave.
She ran to it and began flipping through the pages.
“What am I looking for?” she asked.
“Um, something about the Devil,” Naomi said. “Read to us anything you find that references him.”
Rosie turned page after page, faster and faster, until she reached the last page.
“Nothing,” she said. “There’s nothing in this about the Devil or Satan.”
She let the book drop.
“The spells and curses must not work on him,” Ria said. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to sit here and wait for her to come back,” Rosie said.
“What if–”
“She will. She’ll come back.”
Rosie’s body went limp, and she dropped to the ground. Ria and Naomi sat beside her.
And they waited.
58
A waiting game
The sun rose. It drifted high above them. The clouds that had cluttered the night sky had floated by and soon all that was left was blue sky and a bright, white, unrelenting sun.
Ria and Naomi paced.
Rosie sat, quiet, motionless.
The sun continued its journey across the sky.
Ria and Naomi spoke in hushed tones to each other.
As Rosie sat, sweat dripped down the sides of her face, neck, and soiled the back of her shirt.
Ria and Naomi moved a short distance away and settled in beneath the shade of a coconut tree.
Rosie closed her eyes. Time seemed to pass yet stand still at the same time.
“Rosie?” Ria’s voice seemed distant. Rosie didn’t bother to respond. The voice grew louder, and Rosie felt the breath of someone speaking directly into her ear.
“We’re going to walk down the road and see if we can find some water. We’ll bring some back to you.”
Rosie didn’t move but heard their footsteps grow dim. She didn’t care if they stayed or left. She didn’t care about water. Nothing mattered but Devin. She prayed. Occasionally, she’d pry an eye open and peek through a thin crack toward the path where she’d last seen Devin. The woods, the world, were all a blur.
Maybe if she hoped enough, prayed enough, wanted it bad enough, she could make it happen. Maybe she had some magic in her after all. Didn’t Mambo Cielo say she had Shaman blood running through her veins?
The minutes stretched by. She had no idea how many. It was no longer bright out, and the sun had stopped beating mercilessly on her shoulders. The shadows were longer. She peeked toward the woods. Still, no movement.
“Rosie, here,” a voice was near her own head. “Drink. You must be dehydrated.”
The voice was familiar, but Rosie couldn’t recall who it was, nor did she care.
Something was placed against her lips, and her head was tilted back for her. Water dribbled past her lips. She allowed it to fill her mouth but didn’t swallow.
“Rosie drink,” a voice demanded. “Swallow it.”
She swallowed. The water tasted good.
She opened her eyes and saw the two bodies that they’d seen earlier in the graves. Now they stood before her, alive, and she remembered. It was Ria and Naomi.
“Thank you.” The words were mouthed more than spoken. A pinching sensation flashed on her bottom lip, and she recognized the familiar taste of blood.
“You got a bad burn,” Ria said. “Your lips are cracked bad.”
“Nothing, huh?” Naomi glanced toward the woods.
Rosie shook her head.
“Maybe we ought to go, you know. Maybe she’s not coming back. He took her.”
“I’m not leaving,” Rosie blurted.
A hand rested on her bare shoulders, and she winced from the pain of being touched on burnt skin.
“Rosie. You’re in shock. You’ve been through a lot. How about we just–”
“Shush!” Rosie jumped up and shot a hand over Naomi’s mouth. “I heard something.”
She turned an ear toward the woods. The women remained motionless. Rosie held her breath.
“There? Did you hear that?”
Naomi slowly removed Rosie’s hand from her mouth. She and Ria shook their heads.
“I think you’re imagining things,” Naomi said. “That happens sometimes, you know, when people–”
A rush of excitement flashed through Rosie.
“There!” she said. “There it is again. Someone’s walking through the woods. Someone’s coming.”
The three women turned, stood shoulder to shoulder and faced the woods.
There was the distinct sound of branches crackling as something moved through the forest. Whatever it was, it wasn’t running. It was the sound of something moving slowly and deliberately.
They waited and watched until finally, a figure stepped out from the darkness that was the woods.
59
One more thing
“Devin!”
Rosie was sure her feet must’ve hit the ground, but she didn’t feel them make contact. It seemed as if they flew as they closed the distance between her and Devin. Within moments, Devin’s arms were wrapped around her waist, and Rosie’s face was buried in the side of Devin’s neck. She inhaled deeply. It was a musty smell, the smell of someone who’s been sweating, but she’d never smelled anything so wonderful in her life.
She stepped back, not releasing the hold on Devin’s shoulders, and looked her friend over. She looked the same. Somewhat, yet different. Scorched spots scattered across her clothing, as if sparks had landed on her. Dark charred marks scuffed her face and hands.
“Are you okay? What did he do to you?”
Tenderly, Rosie reached and touched one of the singe marks.
Ria and Naomi had followed her and now stood beside them. They too, scrutinized Devin.
“He, ah, talked to me.”
Her voice was different. It was calm, steady. It lacked the intense energy that she’d always had. And her face was different. Physically, it was the same, other than the burn spots, but there was a tranquil, peacefulness to it that Rosie had never seen before. Rosie reached to softly caressed the side of Devin’s face.
“Are you sure that’s all? He just talked to you?”
“Yeah, we talked.”
“What did you talk about?” Rosie asked.
“Stuff. Life stuff.”
“What do you mean, life stuff, Devin?”
“I can’t explain it all.”
“Anything else? You were gone an awfully long time.”
“Yeah, we, ah, we made a deal.”
“You made a deal with the Devil?”
Devin nodded.
“I’ll tell you about it someday, but not today.”
Devin smiled and when that smile was directed at Rosie, a warm kindness passed between them, as if the smile possessed all that had ever been or ever would be good with the world. Rosie felt it and whether it was the smile or the fact that Devin had come back to her, she burst into tears and threw her arms around Devin’s neck.
“Thank God, you came back, and you’re okay.”
Gently, Devin peeled Rosie away and looked into her eyes.
“No, for that, you can thank Satan.”
“Ahem.” Naomi cleared her throat. “Well, since you’re back and all is well, I guess it’s time for us to get going.”
“We can’t thank yo
u enough for what you did for us,” Ria said.
“Thank you for staying with her,” Devin said. “And best of luck in your new life. Keep in touch. Once you get settled on the Cape, let us know.”
She wrapped an arm around Rosie’s shoulder and pulled her in close.
“We’ll visit.”
The women exchanged hugs and Rosie and Devin watched as Ria and Naomi walked away.
“We did the right thing,” Rosie said.
“I know we did,” Devin said. She spun Rosie around and ran her fingers through the hair of Rosie’s temples. “Now. Finally. It’s our time.” She smiled a smile with more than her lips. Her entire face morphed into a reflection of happiness. Rosie’s heart felt as if it grew larger than her chest could accommodate. Sensations of love, happiness, and joy rushed through every vein and muscle of her body.
“Rosie,” Devin said.
“Um, excuse me.” The words came from behind her and shook Rosie from the mesmerized state she was in. She and Devin turned to see Naomi standing just a few feet from them.
“Sorry to interrupt but,” Naomi said, “there’s one more thing.”
60
And another thing
“Oh, really?” Devin narrowed her eyes. “And what, pray tell, might that be?”
“Could we have a little cash, you know, to get started on our new life? And maybe a credit card? We have nothing but the clothes these women were wearing.”
Devin released a chuckle.
Naomi pointed to the pants Devin wore. “I happen to know there’s two-hundred dollars in your right back pocket and a couple of credit cards in the other.”
Devin reached into her pockets, pulled out the cash and a card and handed them to Naomi.
“Here,” she said. “Merry Christmas.”
Naomi gave them both another hug then returned to join Ria. The pair walked away.
“Now, where was I?” Devin said.
“I’m not sure what you were about to say, but I have a question for you,” Rosie said.
“Fire away.”
“What you said, before you left. You know, about–”
“About being in love with you?” Devin ran her fingers through the hair of Rosie’s temple.
Rosie nodded.
“You want to know if I meant it?”
Another nod.
“The answer to that question is….” Devin slid her fingers down a strand of Rosie’s hair that fell down the side of her cheek. “Yes. I meant every word of it.” A mischievous smile formed on her lips. “You, Rosie Morea, had me at ‘fuck off’.”
A laugh blurted from Rosie. She gave Devin a playful push.
“I never told you to fuck off.”
“Oh, but you tried, in your own polite way.”
“Okay, that I did, I’ll give you that.”
Rosie glanced toward the horizon. The last remnant of a setting sun shimmered over the dark water.
“We better go back to the boat and head toward Key West. Can you make it back at night?”
“Yes. We’ll be fine. That boat has a great navigation system,” Devin said. “That is if the Cuban Government hasn’t confiscated it yet. If they have, we’ll simply take the cruise.”
Her attention was fixed on the orange setting sun.
“It’s great not to have to worry about turning into a frozen doll when the sun is up, isn’t it?”
Arm in arm they took a few steps in the direction of the boat, when a thought occurred to Rosie, and she stopped.
“Wait! There’s something important I want to do first. Come!”
She grabbed Devin’s hand and pulled her toward the two gaping holes in the earth. They stared down at the nun dolls that lay abandoned in each grave.
“Oh right,” Devin said. “We need to fill these graves in. We can’t leave them like that.”
She reached for a shovel and jammed it into the pile of dirt.
Rosie picked up the book.
Devin had lifted the first shovel full of dirt and was about to toss it into one of the graves.
“Stop Devin. There’s something I have to do first.”
61
The perfect p.s
Devin lowered the dirt back onto the pile and leaned on the shovel.
Rosie flipped through the book. Page after page turned until she found what she was looking for. She stared at the words, searing them into her brain. Mentally practicing what she was about to do. Then she began.
“Dooha bangoo bahaba mozzubee. Witchabak nosquito. Witchabak morang zee chagga. I command to find Clownie on Doll Island.”
She opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was Devin. Devin’s face had a blank expression and she stared down into one of the pits. One of the nun dolls wiggled. It struggled to roll over and stand. The tiny mouth moved and when a sound came out of it, it was a solitary word, a pathetic, weak cry.
Boo.
A smile beamed across Devin’s face.
“Brilliant!” she said and enthusiastically shoveled dirt into the pit below. Multiple cries of ‘boo’ were soon muffled. By the time she’d finished filling in the grave, the night was silent.
Rosie closed her eyes and chanted.
“Dooha bangoo bahaba mozzubee. Witchabak nosquito. Witchabak morang zee chagga. I command to find the Mambo in the year 1732 in Cuba.”
She opened her eyes to see the second nun doll moving about at the bottom of the grave. Unlike the first nun, the words flew freely from the mouth of this doll. It jumped up and down and shook a fist at them. The doll shouted with a voice that was deep, raspy, and gravely.
“You wicked women! I curse you with all that I have. Never will I rest until I take vengeance on you. May every evil, wicked soul that has ever walked the planet follow and torture you until–”
Devin threw the first shovel full of dirt down onto the doll’s upturned face. She choked, coughed, and spat dirt out.
An enormous laughter filled the air, as if the wind itself was laughing.
Devin glanced up.
“That’s Satan.” The words escaped past a huge smile as she enthusiastically continued to pile dirt on top of the doll.
“Stop,” Rosie said. “Do you have a lighter?”
Devin reached into her front pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. She threw the cigarettes into the hole and handed the lighter to Rosie.
Rosie flicked it and held the book above the open flame.
“Wait! What about–” Devin said, but the look Rosie shot her made her stop. “Okay, you’re right. Burn it.”
Devin and Rosie watched as page by page the book caught fire.
“You know," Devin said. “Those few pages Zeolie had been able to rip out of the book, are the only remaining pages. They’re the ones that have been passed down through the centuries and that Mambo Cielo has today.”
Rosie nodded.
As the brown, fragile papers caught on fire, muffled pleas rose from beneath a layer of dirt from below.
“No! Don’t. Don’t burn it! You have no idea what you are doing. That magic will be lost forever. Centuries of beautiful magic, gone. Stop!”
Devin nodded her head in the direction of the grave and Rosie tossed the flaming book down into the hole. They watched as the book burst into a ball of fire, and when nothing remained but burning coals, Devin filled the hole with dirt.
Epilogue
One year later ~ Let’s make a deal
Rosie curled her legs beneath her, placed the ball of yarn and knitting needles on the table beside her and settled into her favorite comfort place. An abundance of morning sun streamed through the large windows of the reading nook this morning. A few colorful leaves flew by, scattered by the wind. She opened the window. The fresh scent of a fall breeze blew in. The smell was refreshing, but it rustled the morning paper that lay beside her, so she quickly reclosed the window.
Itchy lay coiled on her lap, yipping quietly in her sleep. What a four-pound chihuahua would be dreaming abo
ut, Rosie could only imagine and hoped it was pleasant.
She sipped her coffee then reached for the Sunday paper, quickly flipping pages until she got to the arts and entertainment section.
“Good morning, doll.”
The words sent a flow of warm emotion through her. She folded the paper and placed it back beside her.
“Please don’t call me that,” she said.
“Oops, sorry.” Devin strolled toward her. “Forgive me. Let me try again. Good morning, lover.”
“That’s better. Hi, sweetheart. How are you this morning?”
Devin bent down and kissed Rosie on the top of her head. One hand was folded behind her back the other cradled a cup of coffee. She placed the coffee cup on the table beside Rosie and playfully rubbed one of Itchy’s ears. The dog’s yipping stopped. She peeked out through a barely opened eyelid before returning to her dreams.
“I’m great. Thanks for letting me sleep in.”
“I wasn’t sure what time you came to bed, but I know it was late, so figured you’d be tired,” Rosie said. “How’d the auction go?”
“It was fabulous,” Devin said. “We had a great turnout and raised more than we’d expected for the shelter. I’m happy with it.”
“And you had a good time?”
“Yes. It was wonderful catching up with some old friends, and I made some fabulous new connections. You’ll have to come next time. I think you’d enjoy it.”
“I will,” Rosie wrapped both hands around her coffee cup and held it to her chest. “Thanks for understanding and letting me stay home and chill. I was exhausted from all the hoopla last week.”
“Oh, I get it. Not a problem. You know I always want you involved in everything I do, but if it’s ever too much, you’re entitled to bow out whenever you need a little peace and quiet. The rolling out process of a movie can be overwhelming.”