Love, Lattes and Angel (Mutants)

by Sandra Cox

  Angel hurries to her side and places her in the tree. “Don’t worry, Clara. As soon as we make gris-gris bags for Momma and Daddy, we’ll make one for you too.”

  Joel snorts then coughs into his hand. Hands on hips, I wheel on him. “You were absolutely no help at all.”

  “Sorry, you seemed to have everything under control.” He straightens his shoulders, his lips twitching. “Okay, Angel baby, now that Clara’s settled for the night, I think it’s time that we do as well.”

  “Okay, Daddy.” Reluctant, she leaves her chicken.

  We troop in and decide we are ravenous. Earlier that evening, we went to a small general store and stocked up on all the necessities: soda, cookies, chips, and chocolate. We even bought some grownup food.

  We down milk and cookies then head for our respective bedrooms across the hall from each other. Joel kisses Angel, gives me a chaste peck on the cheek then disappears into his little room. Angel and I climb into the double bed where her warm, sweet-smelling little body snuggles up against mine as I drift to sleep.

  Chapter 8

  Piper

  The room is still dark when a raucous cock-a-doodle-do sounds near the window. “Oh my God, what is that?” I pull the pillow over my head.

  “That’s Clara’s boyfriend,” my daughter responds in her melodious little voice

  “What?” Layers of fog still deaden my brain and I want to keep it that way for a few more hours.

  The crowing continues.

  “Can you tell Casanova to be quiet?”

  “I can, but you’re going to want to get up.”

  “I am?”

  She bounces up and down on the bed and sings out, “Gramps will be here soon.”

  I burrow deeper under the pillow, till her words penetrate the haze around my brain. “Really?”

  She nods. I hug her and scramble out of bed. “Is everyone all right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let’s get our clothes on and get going.”

  We fly around the room. In moments, we have our swimsuits on. I write a quick note to Joel before racing to the beach. We hit the water as the sun begins to rise. For one moment, I stop to take in one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen. Shards of conch shells give a pink cast to powdery white sand. Blue water is clear as crystal and the sun itself, huge and golden in a perfect sky. As a gull circles overhead and gives a lonely call, Angel’s hand slides into mine. “I want to stay here. I don’t ever want to go back to the lab.”

  Her words jolt me. My chest tightens and my breath catches. “Your daddy would never let that happen.” I squeeze her hand reassuringly before I ask, “Do you remember the labs?”

  “Yes.” Her vibrant voice is flat. Her face holds sadness. For a moment, I wish I could read her mind, like she can mine, then decide it might be best that I can’t.

  She puts her hand over her eyes and stares at the sea, then points. “There’s Gramps’ boat!”

  We run deeper into the water and begin to swim. I have no hope of keeping up with her but gamely continue. She calls to a dolphin, chattering as she swims. The dolphin slows as it comes beside me. I grab a fin and we fly through the water, whitecaps spraying around us. But we are no match for my daughter.

  “Gramps!” She shouts as she pulls alongside their boat. “Aunt Amy. Uncle Tyler.”

  My dolphin friend and I arrive in time to see three incredulous faces leaning over the side of the boat. “Angel?” Amy inquires.

  For a moment, I’d forgotten when they last saw her, mere days ago, she was nothing but a baby.

  “Yeah, it’s me.” She’s already scrambling up the rope ladder on the side. I follow behind her, the early morning sun warming my shoulders as I stand dripping on the deck.

  She races into her great-grandfather’s arms. He squeezes her and gives her a hearty buss on the cheek. “I see a lot has been happening since we last saw you.”

  Before I can respond, Tyler’s arms circle me. He swings me around and kisses me hard. I’m panting when he lets me go. “I’ve missed you.” His voice is husky. He runs his fingers gently up and down my arms.

  Gramps clears his throat. “So, you want to tell us what happened to our girl here?”

  “I can speak for myself, Gramps.”

  Gramps’ lips quirk. He squats down to her level. “Can you now, young lady?”

  “Yes.”

  “So what happened?”

  “We hit a storm in the Bermuda Triangle.”

  The smile on his face fades into concern. He looks at me and raises his eyebrows.

  I nod.

  His attention turns to his great-granddaughter. “What happened, honey?”

  “We got caught in the vortex of a storm. Lightning was flashing all around throwing off all kinds of electrical charges. It was still going on when we went to bed. When we woke up, Daddy’s arm was working again and I’d grown.”

  “You certainly have! But who’s been telling you about vortexes and electrical charges?”

  “That would be me.” Or my thoughts to be exact.

  Angel flashes me a smile.

  Amy hugs her niece then holds her at arm’s length to look at her. She lifts Angel’s amulet with her finger. “What’s this?”

  “It’s a gris-gris bag. Molita is a Vodou high priestess. She thinks I’m their mambo sur pwen.”

  His arm draped around me, Tyler asks, “And what might that be?”

  “Their junior priestess.”

  “I think I need a cup of coffee.” Gramps sits down abruptly on a weathered seat near the rail.

  “I’ll fix you a cup when we get to the cottage.” I study him carefully. There are shadows under his eyes, but his skin has the coppery tones of spending time on the open sea. For the first time in days, the tightness in my chest eases. “Has your heart been behaving itself, Gramps?” He looks good and I don’t want to make a big deal about his faulty ticker. He hates that.

  “Sure has. I’m fit as a fiddle.” He thumps his rib cage.

  “I can see that.” A smile pushes hard against my cheeks. I’m so glad he hasn’t suffered any setbacks.

  “Tell me what happened with the police. Do they know who killed the doc?”

  His features harden. “There’s no proof, but given the timing, I believe it was your old adversary from the lab. A well-dressed man resembling an albino was seen with someone who matches Craven’s description, but no one can find them.”

  “Do you think you were followed?”

  Tyler’s arm tightens around my shoulder.

  “No.”

  “Good. And you had no trouble coming through the triangle?”

  “Not a bit.”

  “Interesting. I’m going to swim back and get breakfast ready. Angel can show you the way.” I hope no one makes a big deal about her growth spurt. I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable.

  Gramps just nods and smiles. “That’s my Pip. Any excuse to get back in the water.”

  “You caught me out, Gramps.” I give him a quick, hard hug.

  Tyler asks, “Do you want me to go with you?”

  I’m thinking of something diplomatic to say when he responds, “I’d slow you down. Okay, I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  I give him a light kiss and a silent thank you for his understanding before diving overboard.

  By the time they arrive, coffee is brewing, wafting a heavenly scent through the air, fresh fruit is on the table and I’m dishing up oatmeal when they come trooping in. Tyler heads for me and scoops me up just as Joel steps out of his bedroom. His hair still tousled, chest bare, he’s wearing a low-riding pair of worn cutoffs. Tyler stiffens and Joel stops in his tracks.

  Chapter 9

  Joel

  I recover first and move forward, my hand extended. “Tyler.”

  He takes it and nods, his manner strained, probably wondering about the sleeping arrangements. I move to Mr. Dunn. “Glad to see y
ou, sir.” He ignores my hand and draws me into a hardy, backslapping hug.

  “And you, my boy. Heard you had a time of it, coming through the Triangle.”

  “It was an experience.”

  “Angel told us you’ve regained movement in your arm.”

  “It’s nothing short of miraculous.”

  “Pretty inexplicable. What’s this I hear about you folks taking part in voodoo?”

  A throat clears behind him, Amy coming to my rescue.

  “Looks like I’m holding up the show. Your sister wants to say hello.”

  Warmth slides up my throat and erupts in a wide smile. I open my arms and Amy dives in. “How are you, Ames?”

  “Better now that we’re all back together.”

  “Most definitely. We need to get caught up.” I give her a squeeze, let go, and turn my attention to Piper. “That coffee smells great. Need help?”

  “Everything’s ready. Just sit down and eat.”

  I grab a chair beside Amy. Everybody crowds around the table, laughing and talking at once. And that’s the scene Molita walks in on.

  “Hi, Molita, want some oatmeal?” Angel sings out

  “Sure, if I’m not interrupting.” Like a magnet, her gaze shoots to Tyler.

  “Hello.” He nods then goes back to eating.

  “So, Manman’s vision was true,” she murmurs.

  Piper looks at her speculatively. Other than Angel, everyone else just looks confused.

  “Excuse me?” Amy inquires politely.

  “My mother, the mambo asogwe had a vision. The three of you coming here proves it true.”

  Before anything more can be said, Piper jumps in. “Gramps, if you have questions about vodou, Molita is the girl to ask. She’s the high priestess on this island.”

  “You’re much too young and pretty to be dabbling with zombies,” he says around a mouthful of oatmeal.

  Tyler snorts then coughs as the mango he’s chewing goes down the wrong way.

  “Molita, this is my grandfather, Mr. Dunn.” Piper motions to her gramps.

  “Mr. Dunn.”

  “Hello, young lady.”

  “And Amy and Tyler.”

  “Amy.” She nods and smiles at Amy then turns the full force of her personality on Tyler. He smiles politely but isn’t bowled over like I’d hoped. But then he has Piper, so why should he be?

  Molita turns her attention back to Mr. Dunn. “I don’t dabble in zombies. I contact spirits. Every religion, including vodou, has its dark side. Look at the Crusades, and the Israeli and Palestinian conflict. And that’s just two.”

  “I’ll give you that,” Mr. Dunn replies. Piper gets up, pours another cup of coffee, and hands it to Molita.

  “Thank you.” She turns her attention back to Mr. Dunn. “In many ways we’re like the Roman Catholics.”

  “You’re confused if you think the Catholics go in for snakes,” he retorts and reaches for his coffee.

  She smiles. “They have their saints and we have our loas. We both believe in a supreme being. We both believe in demons. And both religions have a ritual sacrifice.”

  “Molita was going to sacrifice Clara,” Angel puts in.

  “But you showed me a better way,” Molita replies gently.

  “Who’s Clara?” Amy asks around a mouthful of oatmeal.

  As if in response, a cluck, cluck comes through the screen. Angel hops up and runs to the back door. “Make sure she knows not to make any messes before you let her in,” Piper calls.

  “Bok. Bok bok bok bok.”

  “Is that Angel?” Amy’s eyebrows rise.

  “Another side effect of the storm. She can communicate with any creature.”

  Before anyone can respond, Angel comes back followed by Clara.

  “So that’s Clara.” A grin tugs at the corners of Tyler’s mouth.

  Her head bobbing up and down, the chicken circles the table clucking.

  Angel slides into her seat. “Clara needs a gris-gris bag.”

  “We’ll make one for Clara and the rest of your family, little one.” Molita reaches for a banana.

  “I appreciate being included but I think I’ll pass on that,” Gramps says as he scoops out the last of his oatmeal.

  “It’s important, Gramps. Daddy thinks you should take protection where it’s offered.”

  She looks at me and adds quickly, “As long as no one is harmed.”

  “That’s right, baby.” I try to keep the pride out of my voice, but when Amy smiles and winks at me, I figure I’ve failed.

  Mr. Dunn can refuse his great-grandchild nothing. “If it makes you happy, I’ll wear one.”

  Angel hops out of her chair and hugs her great-grandpa. Clara follows clucking behind her.

  Knock. Knock.

  Angel releases her great-granddad. “It’s Molita’s aunt.” She skips to the door.

  “What is she, telepathic?” Tyler jokes.

  I look at Piper. She shrugs. There’s no way we can keep this secret. “Yes.”

  “Seriously?” In the middle of reaching for a mango, Amy’s hand hovers in midair, her eyebrows raised, her mouth open.

  “Seriously,” I respond.

  “That’s going to take some getting used to,” Tyler mutters.

  “Don’t I know it,” I mumble into my coffee before pushing against the pressure between my eyes with my fingertips.

  Angel dances back in with Mina, the latter dressed in island attire whose bright multi-colored flowers hug her lush body. Mr. Dunn looks like he’s been poleaxed. He taps his chest as if to restart his heart and rises gallantly from his seat. “Here, sit down.”

  “Why, thank you.” She gives him a megawatt smile. “You must be Piper’s grandfather.” Her warm voice drips like honey.

  “Please, call me William.”

  I glance at Piper and raise an eyebrow. Her mouth hangs open and she stares.

  I catch her eye, tap my chin, and wink. She stares at me blankly. Angel looks at me then leans over and whispers into her mom’s ear. Piper shuts her mouth with a snap.

  “Let me get you some coffee,” Mr. Dunn says.

  Piper springs up. “I’ll get it.”

  I grab the desk chair from the living room and place it near Mina’s for Mr. Dunn. Piper serves more coffee and everyone settles.

  Covertly, we all watch Mina and Piper’s grandfather, who seem oblivious to the rest of us. Mr. Dunn leans forward. “I hate to ruin the beginning of a beautiful relationship, but is vodou your religion too?”

  Instead of answering directly, she asks, “What is your faith?”

  “I’m not so much of a religious person as I am a spiritual one.”

  “Ah, then you and vodou will get along very well, since it’s all about the spirits.”

  A chuckle pushes against my throat at the look of consternation on Mr. Dunn’s face. “Walked right into that one, sir.”

  He grins and his features lighten, making him look ten years younger. “So I did.”

  “There’s good vodou and bad vodou, Gramps,” Angel pipes up, her little legs swinging against the chair. “Good vodou takes place before midnight. Bad vodou after. Though some of the islanders refer to it as voodoo.”

  “Thank you for clarifying that,” he says gravely. “And is there bad voodoo practiced on the island?”

  “Molita and her mother cleansed and purified this island. It’s considered sacred, but unfortunately that’s not the case for the island nearby.”

  “Always a fly in the ointment.” Mr. Dunn shakes his head. “What goes on at this nearby island?”

  “There is a houngan, a very bad priest who uses black magic. There is nothing he won’t do to increase his powers. He uses snakes in all his rituals.”

  “I thought snakes were common in your religion.”

  “And I believe there is a sect in the hills of your country that uses snakes too.” Mina smiles.

  “So I�
�ve been told.” Gramps holds up his cup for a refill. Piper fills a carafe and brings it to the table.

  “As far as vodou is concerned, snakes are a powerful form of masculinity.”

  “I thought they were supposed to represent the umbilical cord between mother and child,” Angel interjects.

  Mina smiles as if at a prized pupil. “That is correct, little mambo. They represent that as well. Women use them to equalize the sexes. Unfortunately, the houngan uses them to increase his masculinity and power over others. He practices the black arts.” She spits out the last words.

  My skin tightens. I’m not sure I believe that vodou isn’t merely hocus pocus, good or bad, but regardless we don’t need any black magic around on top of Stranger and Craven. At the very least, black magic translates into people with an evil streak.

  “So tell me about the houngan.” Mr. Dunn leans forward.

  “I’ll make you a deal.” Mina adds a healthy amount of cream and sugar to her coffee and sips delicately. “I’ll tell you about the houngan if you tell me why all of these young people, with the exception of this one”—she studies Tyler intently then looks at Molita, causing a blush to crawl up the young woman’s delicate features—“have eyes the color of our seas and voices that call sailors to their doom.”

  Except for Clara’s clucking, the room grows silent.

  “Well, that’s a conversation stopper.” Mr. Dunn rises from the table. He bends and gallantly kisses Mina’s hand. “It was a joy meeting you.” Then he turns to Piper. “Need some help with the dishes, Pip?”

  “Sure.” They both begin to clear the table.

  “Well, I can take a hint.” Mina laughs and rises too.

  I stand up. “Before you leave, can you recommend a place we could rent for a week or two? As nice as this cottage is, we won’t all fit. Though, we could always stay on the boat, if it comes to that.”

  “I have another cottage that I rent out that has three bedrooms and a loft with a foldout couch, if that would work. It just recently became vacant.”

  “Sounds perfect.” Mr. Dunn beams.

  “But only for a week?” Mina looks disappointed.

  “We’ll have to play that by ear.”