by Aiden James
“Ah, for crying out loud, Jackie, come back here!” Jeremy shouted in disgust. “It’s not like you’ve never told anyone, damn it! Like last night, when your story to Peter McNamee almost cost us our lives!”
Jack spun around to face him. His face red with fury, he eyed Jeremy meanly.
“At least I told someone close to me, and not some stranger!” continued Jeremy, seeming on the verge of anger himself. “Deshawn’s like family, man—you know that! Who better to tell than him? Besides, it wasn’t on purpose, Jackie! I swear, man! I was stoned and it slipped out, and then it turns out he already knew who she was from stories his great grandmother, or whoever the hell it was, used to tell him when he was a little boy!”
“That’s true, Jackie,” said Deshawn. “Come on back here and I’ll tell you about it. I’ll tell you all about ‘dat white witch namet Genovee’!”
Jack carefully considered their words, and as the wrath dissolved from his countenance, Jeremy smiled. Forgiveness was only a good story away.
Deshawn seemed to relax also. He welcomed him back to the couch with a hearty slap on the back.
“That’s all right, bro,” he told him. “I understand why that pissed you off. Just remember that with me, your secret’s safe and sound. No one else will ever know about this, Jackie. I swear it on my very life!
“Let me just add on Jeremy’s behalf that we were smoking some amazing Columbian shit that night!” He laughed and pulled the desk’s chair over to the couch and sat down. “My great, great grandmother, Nanine McAllister, lived to be one hundred and sixteen years old. That’s important for one reason in particular, that she was still alive when I was born. In fact, she didn’t pass away until I turned eleven, nearly twelve years ago. Her parents were slaves in Natchez, Mississippi, though most of her growing up years was spent in St. Francisville, Louisiana, just across the Mississippi River.
“My family has always been ‘gifted’, and some of my ancestors practiced voodoo and ‘hoodoo’, and were called upon for their healing powers and ability to sometimes see way into the future. Great Grandma Nanine was among the most talented seers that ever lived in that part of the country, from what Momma used to tell me. She was big woman, physically, and seemed very stern when I was young. But Momma always said she had a heart of gold. Grandma Sharnette, who was Nanine’s daughter, sometimes talked about the things she used to say about ‘Genovee’. Looking back now, I’m sure they said such things to scare me and my brothers, to keep us in line. In fact, that’s all I ever thought her stories were until the night Jeremy first mentioned Genovene—totally freaked me out, man!”
He chuckled before going on.
“Great Grandma Nanine’s stories followed a consistent theme. Folks that ventured out too far into the back woods of Natchez, back in the day of slaves, sugar, indigo and cotton, took the risk of not only being mistaken as runaways. Getting a whipping for that, according to her, would be heaven compared to what might otherwise happen if one wasn’t careful. Such folks might find themselves lost in a world that lies between life and death, where ‘dreams deceive and nightmares rule’. Momma told me once that Nanine’s momma, my great, great, great Grandma Savina, sometimes visited this place in her mind, ‘cause she could do that. You know, astral projection and shit like that.
“Jeremy told me about Dr. Jack Stratton’s lesser known works and the reported diaries from slavers in Natchez that talked about slaves who reportedly ran off, only to have other slaves confirm that the missing ones walked into the woods while under a trance, never to be seen or heard from again. It awakened memories of similar stories I heard as a child…. Great Grandma Nanine often talked of similar incidents, told to her long ago by Savina when Nanine was just a child. The only difference from the slave owners’ accounts and hers was that when my brothers and me asked the normal kid questions like ‘What became of the little girl or that young man, Grandma Nanine?’ she could actually tell us what happened. Often gruesome, my dad would sometimes jump in and tell us it was all a load of bullshit.
“I grew up thinking a lot like my dad. To me, those stories were like the ‘Hook Man’ and other spook tales. That is, until I heard the same thing from your brother, Jackie. When he told me about Genovene’s golden village and the brutal human sacrifices performed there, it made me think about my Great Grandma’s stories. I could hear her voice in my mind as she talked about the same details, especially the descriptions of the beautiful white witch, ‘dat Genovee’. When Jeremy told me about Dr. Stratton’s theory of how the village moved from one unsuspecting area to another once Genovene and her kin were discovered, it made sense that Natchez, Mississippi was one of those places.”
“Did Jeremy tell you I figured out years ago that she moved on from Carlsdale to Bienville National Forest near Jackson, Mississippi?” asked Jack, curious to learn how much Deshawn actually knew about his relationship with Genovene.
“Yeah, I believe he did, man,” he said, glancing briefly at Jeremy, who gave no indication one way or another while casually smoking his cigarette. “But, I don’t remember the details of everything your brother told me. I only retained the stuff I could relate to directly, basically the shit you and your family went through on account of her, and how it tied in to my own family’s history. Where she’s disappeared to since really didn’t concern me until tonight. Now that I’ve read the journal and Oscar’s diary pages, along with what you’ve both told me about this Agent McNamee’s revelations, I’m certain she’s up to her neck in all that’s going on here. She’s got something to do with that tornado we discussed, and I’d bet everything I’m worth that it’s her presence I felt upstairs earlier. I’d bet even more that ya’ll agree with me on that.”
“Yeah, that’s who we think is upstairs too,” agreed Jeremy. “You might not get Jackie to admit this, but I guarantee it’s part of the reason he got so pissed a moment ago.”
“Well, that’s cool,” said Deshawn. “But what’s the plan from here on out? I mean, it’s damn near two o’clock in the morning, ya’ll. I’m thinking we should get some rest and hit it hard tomorrow, going through these boxes to see what else is here, and then figure out the Estrella De la Sangre’s configuration…. What do ya’ll want to do?”
“I’m with you as far as getting some sleep, man. But, are you sure you can wait until morning to check out the stuff on the tables and the Cristal Del Sol?”
Deshawn pondered Jeremy’s offer in silence. The look on his face said he was ready to explore everything right then. But he shrugged his shoulders to say it wasn’t his decision to make.
“Well, I suppose I’ve got just enough juice left in me for a quick run-through of what we’ve discovered down here so far, my man,” Jeremy told him. “What about it, Jackie?”
“I may not have as much left in the tank as you, Jeremy, but I can hold out a little while longer.”
“All right,” said Deshawn, smiling broadly as he stood up. “Let’s give this ancient mother a quick look!”
He moved over to the table closest to them, the one belonging to Jehovah. He shook his head in disbelief once he saw the contents of the crate on top of the table.
“So, these are real? Are you fucking kidding me, man?”
He scooped up a pair of amethyst fragments that dwarfed his enormous hands.
“Yeah, we think so,” said Jack, nodding to Jeremy as they both joined him at the table. “We weren’t sure at first, until we confirmed their authenticity in the journal. At least it looked real enough, I think.”
“Yes it did. Definitely Oscar’s handwriting in it,” agreed Deshawn. “It’ll take some time for me to get used to the fact his real name was Viktor Seiverlich.” He picked up an oblong marble shard and brought it close to his face, grimacing as he did. “It’s a little freaky knowing this shit on the marble pieces is blood. I’ll bet it reminds you, Jeremy, of that trip you took to Columbia last year. You remember telling me about the Inca altars Dr. Sutherland’s team uncovered in the Andes?�
��
“Yeah, it definitely reminds me of that and the Chibcha one I visited,” said Jeremy. “Check out the inscription on the side of the crate, man.”
Deshawn bent down to take a look, and soon snickered. “I’d say somebody’s got a pretty fucked-up sense of humor,” he observed. “Although, Sanskrit and Hebrew aren’t totally beyond a credible union, I guess. What do you think?”
“My sentiments exactly.”
Deshawn stood up and moved to the next crate to the right. His reaction brought a smile to Jack’s face as it reminded him so much of Jeremy’s reaction several hours earlier.
“These are topaz, right?” he asked, looking over his shoulder as the brothers approached. “Why don’t we just fill a few bags with these and head off to Mexico and tell everyone to kiss our asses goodbye!”
His mirthful chuckle echoed throughout the immediate area.
“I’ll save you some time on this, Deshawn,” said Jeremy, laughing along with him. “The crate belongs to Sekhnet.”
“I know, man!” said Deshawn, feigning indignation. “I remember the compass illustration from the journal, so a lot of this can wait until morning. I’m sure the crate’s got another crazy Sanskrit mixture for an inscription, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah,” confirmed Jeremy.
“Before we stop, you need to at least check out the next three crates, Deshawn,” said Jack. If nothing else, Deshawn’s reaction could provide a small reward for his and Jeremy’s continued sleep deprivation.
“I already know what’s in them, Jackie,” said Deshawn, wearing a knowing smirk. “Why do you think it took me so damned long to finish reading everything? But, I’ll humor you.”
He moved over to the crate belonging to Nyame. Without looking inside, he bent down to read the inscription first.
“Well, whoever did this was good. Very good, man. The African part of this is the same ancient symbols most often associated with Nyame.”
He stood back up and looked inside the crate. It appeared he tried to restrain his reaction but couldn’t completely do it. As soon as he saw what was in the crate, his eyes nearly bugged out of his head and his mouth dropped open.
“Holy mother of Christ!” he cried out. “There are some stupid motherfuckers involved here, ya’ll! I mean, what kind of idiot would keep priceless stuff like this laying around?? This should all be locked up in a safe place! We should do just that—like right now, before we do anything else!!”
“That would make sense, in a way,” said Jeremy, blowing a thin stream of smoke into the air above the crate. “But, don’t forget this stuff was brought here by Dr. Quard-e-Lazim. So, it’s really his responsibility to secure everything—despite any inclinations on our part to do otherwise. My gut tells me he’ll be back soon, and I doubt it’d be wise for us to still be here when he shows up.”
“Maybe you’re right, Jeremy. But, m-a-a-an-n-n!”
Deshawn reluctantly pulled his gaze away from the crate, resisting the temptation to pick up one of the enormous diamonds. At Jeremy’s urging, he moved on to the next crate, snickering softly once he got there.
“This is definitely some wild shit, man!” he told them. “This is Talusha’s stash, right? Even if I hadn’t read it earlier, I’d be inclined to think so after all I’ve learned about Genovene’s daddy.”
“Are you saying you know more about him than what Jeremy told you?” asked Jack, surprised and curious to hear more.
“I am.” Deshawn looked away from the crate to face Jack. “Dr. Nathan Roberts from the University of Texas’ Department of Ancient Studies recently uncovered a limestone slab from one of the earliest dated Mississippian mound sites in southern Arkansas. It had more to say about Talusha than anything else discovered up until now. Definitely a bloodthirsty fucker, man…truly a one of a kind deity on this continent, as the pictograms on the slab indicate he encouraged his followers to hunt and capture women and children from the more docile tribes in the region. He preferred fresh blood sacrifice, where his victims were bled slowly. There are depictions of mutilations on the lower portion of the slab, sort of like a manual on how he wanted it done.
“Now, ya’ll realize I’m mainly telling you what Dr. Roberts’ report said, though I’ve seen a few photographs of the slab too. It all ties in with what Jeremy told me you personally experienced from this evil dude, Jackie.”
Jack nodded thoughtfully and Deshawn moved toward Dr. Mensch’s desk.
“I don’t need to see Shiva’s rubies or Bochicha’s emeralds right now, ya’ll,” he said over his shoulder. “Shit, there’s more than enough temptation here to make even the finest brother think about a new life!”
More echoes from his warmhearted laughter hung in the air around them.
“I suppose you’d rather wait to examine the Cristal Del Sol, then” said Jack, joining him at the desk with Jeremy.
“Oh, no,” he replied. “I may be ready to end my tour of the circle, but you can thank your brother for successfully stirring my supreme curiosity about the Cristal Del Sol. I won’t be able to rest easy tonight until I see it float in midair for myself!”
He chuckled and gave Jack another hearty slap on his shoulder.
“Well all right, big guy, here it is,” said Jeremy as he moved over to the box and opened it.
Deshawn and Jack approached him as he lifted the object out of the box again. As before, the crystal sphere began to glow, humming softly. Jeremy handed it carefully to Deshawn, whose hands trembled as if he thought the thing would either bite him or shatter into a hundred pieces. Immediately, the same clicking noises Jack heard earlier resounded from the Cristal Del Sol.
Deshawn nearly dropped the shimmering sphere, but Jeremy and Jack steadied the object until he got a secure grip on it. The clicking soon stopped and the hum diminished, to where it was barely audible. Deshawn seemed to gain confidence and slowly brought the Cristal Del Sol up to his chest. Then, he let it go. The sphere remained suspended in the air, and started spinning again.
Mesmerized by its behavior, the three watched the sphere rotate slowly, its iridescence growing steadily more brilliant. After several minutes, the glow began to fade and it stopped spinning. The translucent globe drifted to the floor, where it shimmered no more.
“Oh my God….” was all Deshawn could say after witnessing this, while Jeremy and Jack looked on in venerated silence.
Jack assumed as long as they kept the thing away from the circle of tables and the remnants of the Estrella De la Sangre it would remain the playful beach ball they originally encountered. He realized now it wasn’t so predictable.
Deshawn wanted to experiment further, picking it up off the floor and spinning the sphere in his hands like his cherished basketball. He looked over his shoulder at the circle of tables, the fiery gleam in his eyes clearly announcing his next intention.
“NO!” they shouted, just as he stepped away from them. They each grabbed him and Jeremy pulled the object out of his hands before he could react.
“Why’d ya’ll go and do that for?” Deshawn demanded angrily, while Jeremy took the sphere over to its box and carefully laid it inside.
“You were about to put us all in real danger, Deshawn!” scolded Jeremy. “Don’t you remember what I told you happened earlier, when I messed around with it?”
“Yeah, but what’s your point?”
“That fucking thing spun in the air like a fireball just before I answered the phone!” Jeremy continued, pointing back toward the middle table. “It threw out lightning bolts in every direction, and the ground down here started to shake like it was about to open up and swallow us whole! Hell, if you hadn’t arrived when you did, who knows where we’d be now?”
“Look ya’ll…I’m sorry,” said Deshawn, reflecting on what Jeremy told him. “I guess I just got caught up in the moment….” His voice trailed off.
“I felt the same way earlier,” said Jeremy, his voice softening. He walked over to Deshawn and grasped his shoulder before moving o
ver to the food provisions still spread out on the floor near the couch.
“Ya’ll, some of this shit’s going to spoil soon if we don’t get it upstairs and into the fridge,” he observed, motioning for them to help him gather the more fragile items to take upstairs, along with the beer and Coke. He also made sure that he and Jack picked up their change of clothes and any other necessities, which of course, included his all- important carton of cigarettes. “We’ll go over this stuff in much greater detail later on today, and see what we can do to fulfill Oscar’s last request. But I imagine Jackie and I’ll be sleeping at least until noon.”
“I can hang out here for most of the day,” said Deshawn. “I finished my last class of the semester yesterday, and I don’t have to be at work until five o’clock tonight. Are you intending for us all to sleep upstairs?”
“Yeah, why not?” asked Jeremy. “The beds up there looked quite inviting the last time I checked. They sure as hell are a better choice than the basement floor, wouldn’t you agree? I mean, it’s not like we need to ‘rough it’ when we’re not working on a dig in some third-world country. Right? ...Well, you two can choose whatever you want to deal with. Personally, I think you’re both nuts if you don’t take advantage of what’s upstairs.”
“I’m sleeping upstairs too,” said Jack, wearily. The mere thought of resting his exhausted body made it near impossible not to fall over where he stood.
“I can’t believe you two are forgetting about that presence up there!” Deshawn said in disgust, pointing upstairs. “Ya’ll are fucking crazy! There must be something wrong with white folks, ‘cause you always see them on TV showing off their haunted houses, saying shit like ‘look at my friendly house maid, she died a hundred years ago after she hung herself from the chandelier in the dining room. I know, I know…she might shatter some plates in the kitchen from time to time and she knocks real loud on the walls around midnight. But we consider her part of our family!’”