by Aiden James
She motioned to the cupboard above the refrigerator and John nodded his approval. David assisted her in retrieving the half-dozen black wooden bowls stacked neatly in the cupboard’s corner, and Evelyn set them down on the table in a row near the candle and the bag. From one of the sacks she pulled out an assortment of plastic baggies containing a variety of leaves, roots, and seeds. The other contained a pair of ceramic incense burners and three white slender candles. She emptied two small bags of incense into each burner.
Evelyn removed a pound of deer meat and folded the paper bags, placing them beneath the table.
“This isn’t part of the ceremony,” she advised, noticing the David’s curious look as she moved into the kitchen holding the package of fresh meat. “I told Grandpa that I’d cook up some chili tonight, which I hope you’ll enjoy.”
She smiled as she sat the meat on the kitchen counter and moved over to the pantry, where she retrieved two cans of chili beans and the necessary spices.
“I haven’t had venison in years,” said David. “If tonight’s meal is anywhere near as good as what you fixed us yesterday, I’m in for a real treat!”
“Why, thank you, David!” She said. Her smile widened. “If you’ll take your seat again at the table in a few minutes, I’ll soon join you.”
While waiting for her, he studied the strange names of the various leaves, roots, and seeds.
“What you and I will do first is crush the roots and blend in the herbs,” she said, once she joined him at the table. She tore open the first few packages. Immediately the fragrances of each filled the air before them, some pleasant but others bitter and acrid. She lit the incense and the larger white candle from yesterday. “Some of the roots will really stink once we mash them up.”
Evelyn opened the duffel bag and removed two small wooden mallets, handing one to him. Next she set three of the bowls near him, placing several red fleshy stalks from a chickweed plant inside the first bowl. She added a pair of brown slender roots on top of the stalks, which she called ‘delani’, along with a funnel-shaped yellow flower named Carolina jasmine.
“Go ahead and finish blending them together,” she instructed, after taking care of the initial mashing of the stalks, roots, and flower. “Before we eat dinner I’ll need you to thoroughly wash your hands, since the mixture is toxic.”
He paused to look at her with a ‘why in the hell are we doing this?’ expression on his face. She smiled and patted his wrist.
“It’s necessary for you to actually handle the paste as you create it, since your physical essence must be absorbed for the paste to have maximum effectiveness,” she explained.
He nodded and went back to the task of blending the mixture. It took nearly ten minutes for him to break down the stalks, though the flower and roots became a pliable mush right away. Before long, the concoction became enough of a paste where Evelyn indicated it suited their purpose. The paste’s color dark rust, she set the bowl to the right of Allie Mae’s bag, just outside the rune placed there yesterday.
Next she placed a handful of very small black roots inside the next bowl, which she called ‘unaste’tstyu’, black snakeroots. In addition, she opened another bag containing a single dark brown root she called ‘kagaskutagi’, also known as crow skin. She pressed this root in with the others, and spread seeds from liverwort, or ‘skwali’ as she called it, on top of them. David blended these ingredients together, which formed a black paste. She set this bowl on the left side of the bag.
With two bowls in place, she pushed the third one toward him.
“This one is the most important, since it will be the end result you seek,” she said. “As we add in and mash the ingredients, I’ll need you to focus your thoughts on what you want to happen tonight, both for you and your family as well as the girl’s restless spirit.”
He agreed to do whatever she asked. She opened packages containing the three largest roots, breaking them into smaller pieces. One seemed almost carrot-like while the other two gray and scraggly. Their names ‘dayewu’, distai’yi and ‘amadita’ti’, they barely fit inside the bowl.
“Go ahead and combine them. Concentrate,” she advised.
He struggled to keep the distai’yi inside the bowl. Meanwhile, she removed several fresh white lilies from the last two packages.
“The devil’s shoestrings are always the hardest to get to cooperate,” she told him, noticing his growing aggravation to keep the damn things inside the bowl long enough to crush them.
She reached over and helped him hold the bowl steady, until he finally subdued them. The resultant paste light gray, Evelyn handed the lilies to him, explaining he should be the only one to add them in. The paste near-white when finished, the aroma had become almost pleasant compared to a few moments ago. He thought about his beloved family and how desperately he wished for Allie Mae to find peace, or at least leave them the hell alone.
“So far so good!” she enthused, moving the bowl to the lower edge of ‘Allie Mae’s Treasures’, just below the runes. “We’re now ready to break for supper. Before we do, let me explain what each of the bowls represent so you can reflect on their meaning while we eat. The bowl with the red paste represents your success and triumph. It’s for the victory we seek tonight. The bowl with the black paste, as you’ve already correctly guessed, represents death. But, remember it doesn’t represent the spirit’s intent or fate. Rather it’s the same as the Tarot Death card, or the rune’s death symbol. It simply means the end of a journey, and hopefully the end of your struggle against her.”
She paused to make sure he understood.
“The last bowl represents the end result you desire, as I already mentioned, which is peace and happiness. The three together will provide your protection as you return her treasures to where you found them.”
“You mean I’ll be taking the bag back to the ravine?” A sudden chill seized his heart.
“Yes, David.” She took his hands and clasped them in hers. “It’s the only way to end this. I assure you, you’ll be ready to do it by the time we complete the ceremony tonight.”
John came over to them, placing his hand on David’s shoulder.
“I’ve set up the TV trays in the living room, and the chili’s ready,” he announced.
Evelyn stood up and David did the same, following her to the kitchen sink where they both thoroughly cleansed their hands. Afterward, they joined John in the living room. He had poured them each a glass of iced tea to go with a steaming bowl of chili. Small loaves of hot bread were placed alongside the chili, and after Evelyn recited a brief Cherokee blessing the three sat down to eat.
Shortly after five o’clock, the sun had already disappeared behind the western hills. The cabin’s security lights came on as they chatted quietly in the living room. When the topic turned to Allie Mae’s attack from last night, John showed Evelyn his injured leg. She gasped when she saw the bruises, but held off giving her grandfather the stern lecture David expected.
John told again how the spirit crept in through the fireplace after the fire died, and loomed above David as he slept. If not for Shawn’s prompting, he might not have been able to save David from Allie Mae, since he slept soundly in the recliner and unaware of her presence. Once awake, he watched her shadowy form descend while the air around them became frigid, the vapors from David’s breaths being sucked up into her essence as she moved ever closer to him.
John recited a prayer he had uttered only one other time since his teenage years, at his wife’s deathbed. It failed to appease the anisginas then, the evil spirits who brought her cancer, and he feared it might not be effective now as well. But to his surprise, the entity lifted from David and turned to face him. The shadow seemed impenetrable, and the row of candles on the mantle suddenly blew out, as well as the others in the living room and kitchen. Surrounded by complete darkness didn’t deter him. He chanted the prayer more fervently. Books and magazines flew off the shelves while pots and pans crashed to the floor in the kitch
en.
He described how he pictured a dance his grandfather showed him long ago, and began to imitate it, moving toward David in the darkness and feeling the invisible iciness of the spirit’s essence embrace him. Shawn barked angrily at his side while sacred items were torn from the wall and ceramic dishes fell upon the pots and pans scattered across the kitchen floor. Meanwhile, David slept through it all.
As John explained to David earlier, the confrontation lasted about an hour. The ghost uttered her own chant, spitting out vehement threats as she sought to overpower John’s prayer. He felt an icy spray as her shrouded face drew near, and he responded in kind, raising his voice to match hers. Finally she let out a terrible scream and threw him back against his recliner. It tipped over and he landed hard on the floor and on top of Shawn. He expected her to try and finish him off, but it didn’t happen. Soon, the lights in the living room flickered and came back on. She left.
John laid still, waiting to make sure the attack had ended. After a few minutes he got up and turned off the overhead light so David could continue sleeping. He went to the bathroom, where it surprised him to see his face and shirt covered in blood. He washed his face and bandaged the cut above his eye, praying Allie’s corpuscles and other matter hadn’t merged with his own. He then took care of Shawn’s leg.
“If not for you risking your own life, I surely wouldn’t be sitting here now,” said David, thanking him again. He decided to share the strange images he dreamt about while John battled the spirit.
“Once a shaman, always a shaman,” Evelyn observed, smiling proud once David described the dream. John returned her smile weakly, stating he hoped never again to face such a demon.
After he and David helped Evelyn clean up after dinner, they all returned to the living room. Since it wasn’t time yet to move on to the next portion of the ceremony, they conversed on lighter subjects with the TV muted in the background. Around seven o’clock, Shawn scratched at the back door. Evelyn went to the door and opened it. Cautious, she peered outside while removing the chain from his neck. As he had the night before, Shawn whined and looked repeatedly toward the darkness beyond the security lights. She shut the door and locked it, pausing to peek through the door’s drawn curtain.
“Come here, boy!” John called to Shawn. The husky trotted into the living room, his tail sweeping across the coffee table as he went by. “There, there…good boy.”
Shawn responded with a drawn out whine. John looked up worriedly to where Evelyn stood next to the door, and she frowned and shook her head in response.
“She’s back, isn’t she?” asked David.
“More than likely,” said Evelyn. “I’d planned on getting started around nine, since the actual ceremony takes about two hours. We’ll need to arrive at John Oliver’s homestead by eleven-thirty, which should give you plenty of time to get to the ravine by twelve. Most magical spells are strongest after midnight. You’ve noticed Allie favors the latter half of the midnight hour. Our spell will work the same way, but in the earlier half hour.”
She peered again through the back window and then moved over to the table, opening her duffel bag and removing a leather-bound book. She also removed a single white dove feather the size of her index finger and a smaller patch of deerskin, laying them alongside the book on the table near her chair.
“Grandpa, would you mind if I use your CD player?” she asked, removing a disk from her duffel before closing it and setting it beneath the table. “I’d like to set the mood.”
John didn’t mind, and checked the player to make sure it still worked after last night’s misadventure. He brought it over to where Evelyn waited, and she plugged the player into a nearby outlet, stating she wanted to recharge and preserve the batteries in case the power went out again.
“Both of you, please join me at the table,” she said, and placed the disk inside the player.
The sound of soft drums, chimes and a wooden flute playing a lovely but haunting melody filled the air. David returned to his seat at the table as did John, after first placing two large hickory logs inside the fireplace and waiting for the flames to take hold. Unlike last night, a dozen additional logs sat waiting next to the hearth. Ready to begin, Evelyn poured them each a cup of fresh coffee first.
“I’d still prefer to wait until nine o’clock to officially start, but it might be helpful to discuss some of what you’ll hear, and the meanings behind key phrases,” she explained, replenishing the incense in the burners and lighting them both anew. “Grandpa is familiar with most of the Cherokee incantations I intend to use. Since I’ll be completely focused once we begin, having some familiarity beforehand should help you stay focused and in tune with me, David. He should be able to tell you what’s going on and where we are in the ceremony once my guides take over. When that happens, I may not be coherent enough to be understood.”
A sudden gust of wind blew against the back of the cabin, rattling a few loose shingles on top of the roof. John grimaced. It appeared last night’s visit from Allie Mae left some undetected damage.
“Wait here, while Grandpa and I make sure everything is locked up,” said Evelyn.
She stood up from the table and John joined her. The drapes covering the loft’s window still closed, they focused on the windows and doors on the main floor. The bathroom window turned out to be the only one unprotected; the wooden shutters left open that afternoon. Once taken care of, she and John soon returned.
“Stay focused no matter what happens, David,” she said, after she sat down again. “I was thinking just now of what might help us prepare better for our ceremony. Grandpa, do you recall the ‘Tale of the Lovers’ as well as the other story you used to tell Hanna and I when we were young, about the Cherokee warrior sent to find the Great Antelope imprisoned in the land of darkness beyond the Three Blood Rivers?”
“I do,” he replied.
“My guides told me you should share them with David,” she said. “After I closed the shutters in the bathroom I heard them say ‘Have him tell the stories—the stories from when you were a little girl!’”
Hesitant at first, he agreed to recite the tales. She turned down the volume on the CD player so he could be clearly heard. A gifted storyteller, David already knew this from the tour he and Miriam had taken at the Cable Mill that fateful Saturday before the vengeful spirit invaded their lives. When John began to speak, the wind, which had been whistling against the eves of the cabin, died down, as if someone else wanted to hear the stories too.
The first story involved an Indian girl named Quia-sontha and a young brave named Ta-e-kita. Similar to the Shakespearian tale of Romeo and Juliet, the families of Quia-sontha and Ta-e-kita feuded within the Cherokee nation. Set in the early seventeen hundreds, when the white settlers still respected the Cherokee, the story centered on the healing of this feud, as the families finally saw the senselessness of the war between them. But, as in the legendary tale of Romeo and Juliet, the lesson came at a cost. Ta-e-kita died in a battle with one of Quia-sontha’s older brothers who didn’t want this peace, leaving Quia-sontha to grieve from her loss until she died of a broken heart.
David nodded politely at the conclusion of this story, wondering what in the hell it had to do with his situation. If supposed to be a portent of things to come, then a serious ass-kicking awaited him by Allie Mae’s ghost. Evelyn laughed.
“You must understand that the ceremony tonight is not only intended for your salvation,” she told him, still chuckling. “In some ways, your tormentor is like Quia-sontha. Allie Mae feels terribly wronged, and when she passed over to the other side she did so with a horrible wound and burden placed on her heart. I’m sure you’ll find the next story more appealing.”
She motioned for her grandfather to continue, and he moved on to the next one. It dealt with a warrior named Sha-hinta, sent by Tsu’l’kalu, the Cherokee deity known as ‘the Great Lord of the game’. Tsu’l’kalu sent Sha-hinta to the land of darkness to save the Great Antelope, kidnapped
by a mythic great horned serpent known as Uktena. After a terrible struggle to reach this land, where he escaped death at the hands of a host of enemies waiting for him at the Three Blood Rivers, Sha-hinta defeated Uktena and returned the Great Antelope safely to the ‘Great Mountains of the Blue Ridge’. Tsu’l’kalu rewarded Sha-hinta by allowing him to lead the first hunt when the antelope grew plentiful again.
“You see, this one wasn’t so bad,” said Evelyn.
David thanked John for sharing the stories, which took just over an hour to complete. The clock on the kitchen wall read 8:24 p.m., and as soon as John finished the wind began to whistle again as it moved freely through the eves, no longer hindered by whatever force had prevented it from reaching the cabin. Evelyn and John turned their heads to the back door, and David caught a glimpse of a shadow passing by the door’s window, visible through the curtain.
“Let’s make our final preparations. Would either of you like more coffee before we start?”
Her smile couldn’t mask her nervousness. She returned with the coffee pot, setting it on a warmer near John’s place at the table after replenishing everyone’s cup. Once seated again, she handed a pad and pen to David.
“Write down the information I’m about to tell you, and refer to it while the ceremony is in progress,” she instructed. “The first thing we’ll do is try to loosen the spirit’s grip on you, to disrupt her ability to haunt you at will. We’ll use these items for that.” She pointed to the white feather and the patch of deerskin.
“This first part of the ceremony is known as ‘Tsigiu’, which means ‘I eat’ or ‘I take’,” she said. “You may have heard of the Cherokee ‘spirit eaters’, which is where this ritual is taken from. The intent is to take the evil influence and bind it in the deerskin offering. The feather represents your desire for lasting peace, and it will be placed with the deerskin inside Allie Mae’s bag.”
She waited for him to finish writing and then set up the three slender white candles in front of the three wooden bowls containing the pastes. Next, she opened the leather book, which contained a number of bookmarks.