CHAPTER 9 - THE PREPARATION
At first light Ramon was up and about again. He prevailed upon one of the women to give him breakfast and make up a lunch he could take into the woods. Then he snatched up his knapsack and went off to hunt for the plants and stones.
At this point, the journey had to be made on foot and so, leaving the car behind, Ramon set off in the wrong direction to confuse anyone who might be watching. As soon as he was out of sight of the village, he circled around and headed for the trees. Ramon tramped through the damp woods for approximately 20 minutes in the direction the men had indicated.
The forest grew thicker and he had to push branches of wet leaves out of the way to make a path. He became confused for a moment and thought he was lost, but at the next turn in the bend he came upon the strangely shaped, silk cotton tree. Ramon stopped short and looked at it.
It was a huge Ceiba tree with dark, gnarled bark and few leaves. Even so, it seemed alive with an energy that made him shiver just to stand near it! Only the legendary tree I seek, he thought, could possess such spiritual force.
A connection to the other world!
Ramon recalled that lightning was said to respect the Ceibas, so they were rarely struck. And during the biblical deluge, or so he'd been told, these were the only trees not covered by water, allowing people and animals to survive the flood by taking shelter in their branches.
This was the tree under which he would make his sacrifice.
A breeze sprang up suddenly, making the nearly naked branches dance up and down. Up and down. Like arms to grab him! Ramon shivered again.
Surely, there was no danger unless he called on the demon. And only then if he made a fatal error in performing the ritual. A Ceiba, he knew, never differentiated as to whether a spell being cast at its base was for good or evil. He forced himself to take a few deep breaths. When he’d gained control, he glanced about nervously. He had to find the plants.
Ramon didn't have far to look. A profusion of the herbs he sought grew at the base of the tree. It was just as if they'd been waiting all these years, just for him. But first he forced himself to touch the tree gently to show respect. When he felt the invisibles had accepted his presence, he knelt down and took a knife out of his knapsack.
Ramon took up a handful of the plants and cut them carefully. Then he placed them in a paper bag and tucked the package in his knapsack. He remained kneeling beside the knapsack, listening carefully. The wind still skipped through the thorny branches, but now those branches were strangely still, no longer shaking and grabbing in Ramon's direction. It was as if the invisibles approved of his mission.
And now he was ready to go to the river to search for the stones.
Ramon circled around again to confuse anyone who might observe him on his way to the river. The sun rose higher in the sky as he began his trek along the downgrade to the water. As the day's heat increased, the dew on the leaves began to dry.
Ramon pushed the brush out of his path and the greenery snapped back almost immediately to cover evidence of his passage, releasing a swarm of flying insects. Disturbed and seeking fresh prey, the mosquitoes buzzed about him, humming their bloodthirsty song in his ears. Horrified, he dropped his knapsack and fumbled for the insect repellent.
The aerosol bomb evaded his searching hands and, in desperation, he dumped the knapsack's contents onto the grass. The elusive container fell at his feet. He snatched it up quickly and began spraying at himself and the threatening cloud. The enemy was quickly routed, but the feeling of terror continued. Ramon knew of the mosquitoes of Liberte! The missionary from Canada had told him of the illness they carried. The terrible illness!
Ramon remembered its name. Malaria! And he remembered the symptoms. Fever! Chills! Vomiting! Exhaustion! All this caused by these little, flying beasts. And the missionary had said, "Even if you don't die from this disease, you're never really cured. It keeps coming back and making you sick."
Ramon quickly scooped up his belongings and the sack of herbs. He stuffed them back into the knapsack, but he chose to carry the aerosol bomb. Ramon hefted the can in one hand. Just to be ready, he thought. And then, slinging the knapsack over his shoulders, he continued down the embankment.
"Anyone who travels to Haiti must take this medication first," the missionary had warned, then added, "and you have to begin taking it at least two weeks before making the trip."
Ramon thought, What good is that to me?
He paused to take a pebble out of his sandal. He would not put off seeking the demon for that long. Besides, if the demon favored him, Ramon would be all-powerful and need not worry about malaria. On the other hand, if Ramon made a mistake in the ritual and the demon killed him, then malaria would be the least of his troubles.
Ramon pressed grimly onward, keeping an eye out for mosquitoes. Even though he couldn't see the river, he could hear water rushing by and knew he was very near. Then children's voices burst into his consciousness. Children laughing! Ramon ducked down in the bushes and peered through the branches. About 50 feet away, down along the riverbank, was a group of children sent to bring water back to their families. They laughed and shouted to each other as they filled plastic containers.
Ramon waited impatiently until the children had finished their chores and their games, then they began to climb back up the embankment in the direction of the village. As soon as they had departed, Ramon looked about to be sure no one else was fated to appear. Satisfied he was alone for the moment, he hurried to the water's edge.
The water level was low and the stones, which were usually covered at this time of year, lay there white and dry, exposed to his gaze. The better to search for the ritual stones. He glanced around again. Still alone! He took off his clothes and sandals, then hid them and his knapsack deep under the branches of a large bush. He stood up and checked his handiwork, satisfied that a casual observer couldn't see what he had hidden.
Ramon stepped from the bank and into the shallow, rapidly rushing water. He dipped down and began scooping up stones. When he had amassed a small collection, he considered them carefully, then discarded most of them. Ramon slowly picked his way downstream, searching the riverbed with his eyes. He continued the selection process until he was sure he had the right stones then, keeping a tight grip on them, he waded ashore.
Returning to the bush where he'd hidden his clothes, Ramon tucked the stones safely into his knapsack and began dressing. He sprayed himself again and set off into the woods, tramping about in a large semi-circle.
In a short time he re-entered the village near the beer vendor's shack. His friends from the night before had gathered together in the shade at the head of the path. They waved to him. "Hola!" they greeted him. "Come along." They were about to leave for the river to fish. And they planned to go by the same path he'd just taken.
Ramon's knees almost gave way. If they'd left for the river any earlier, they'd have run into him! He tried to catch his breath. The others looked at him expectantly. They smiled.
"Aren't you coming?" Disney tee shirt asked.
Ramon shook his head. "Oh, no, no," he stammered, "I must return now."
The men looked disappointed. Ramon's newly discovered cousin tugged at his sleeve. "Please stay," the boy pleaded. Ramon stared down at the child, still surprised at how much the boy resembled Julia. He instinctively clutched his knapsack protectively and edged toward the car. "I must go," he insisted.
"Don't you feel well?" asked the old man.
Ramon caught his breath. He forced himself to smile. "It's such a very long drive," he apologized. The men nodded in agreement. Ramon smiled at this. He had deliberately never told them where he had come from, but somehow they'd convinced themselves he'd traveled a great distance.
Perhaps it is the thick coating of mud on the car that adds to the illusion, Ramon thought. He climbed into the car and carefully placed the knapsack on the passenger seat beside him. The car started up smoothly and began to pull away in the direction of the road.
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Ramon waved as he passed the fishing party. The men waved back enthusiastically. The boys ran after him for a few feet as they shouted their goodbyes. Ramon reached the main road and turned left. For the benefit of those watching, he tore off down the road as if he meant to put distance between himself and Liberte in an effort to return home by nightfall.
His new friends in the fishing party were easily convinced and stopped waving as the little car grew small in the distance. Then they turned and followed the forest path in the direction of the river. Ramon drove wildly down the road for over a mile, then pulled off behind some trees. He took care to angle the car, hoping it wouldn't be seen from the road.
But there was little fear of discovery. The very trees seemed to go out of their way to hide him, their branches bending over the car, enclosing the vehicle with leafy arms. It was as if he’d entered another world. A shady, secret world. A place where none could find him unless he chose to emerge.
Satisfied with his hiding place, he turned off the interior light and opened the car doors and windows to allow the forest breezes to circulate. Something about this cozy spot made him feel safe, relaxed. He lay down on the backseat to wait for nightfall. He was just going to rest his eyes, or so he thought, but he fell asleep immediately. It wasn't until long, shadowy fingers began to stretch across the road and creep toward his hiding place that he realized the day had slipped away. Soon it would be dark! Dark enough to return to Liberte. Dark enough to take the boy.
And, within a few minutes, it would be too dark to read!
Horrified, Ramon reached for his knapsack. He quickly dug the book from its recesses and frantically reread the pages. He had to commit the magical instructions to memory as there would be no opportunity and not enough light to use the book when he brought the child to the tree.
Daylight faded as he slowly traced his finger from line to line, moving his lips silently, memorizing the ritual, and then it was too dark to see the words on the pages. He pushed the interior light switch back to the ON position, but the pages were old and the writing faded. The bulb was too dim to read a book that had been buried so many times over the years.
Ramon leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. He sighed. There was no help for it now. Either he was fated to be the all-powerful Santero he envisioned or his dream would end here, tonight. He sighed again, longing for something to take his mind off this waiting, waiting, until the tiny village fell asleep and he could creep among them in the darkness and steal the child. Just as his Uncle Felix had done so many years ago.
Ramon shivered and quickly offered a silent prayer that he would not meet the same fate. The same terrible end. Screaming as he was torn apart by the Baka! Then he jumped out of the seat in a burst of nervous energy and sought diversion from tormenting self-doubt. He crammed the book back into his knapsack, down deep, so it wouldn't accidentally fall out and be lost to him forever in the dark wilderness and, in doing so, his hand touched a small package.
He withdrew the mysterious parcel and stared at it uncomprehendingly in the dark. Then he laughed aloud. It was part of his lunch. Ramon smiled gratefully. He undid the piece of cloth the food was wrapped in to reveal a meat pie and several slices of fried plantain. He sniffed delicately.
The spicy aroma entered Ramon's nostrils bringing on surprising hunger pangs. The small man fell savagely upon the morsels, gobbling without chewing, and then he caught himself.
I'm behaving like an animal! he thought, forcing himself to pause. Ramon meant to chew the next bite slowly. He had the best intentions, but, somehow, he found himself, once again, wildly devouring the food.
Spellbound: a Tale of Magic, Mystery & Murder Page 10