by C. R. Daems
"You're a very talented and successful working girl." I smiled.
"Yes. Because I enjoy my work." She laughed and took a seat, hands on the table. I had to admit I liked Angel. What she did was against the law and many considered it immoral. But it was consensual. Her men customers wouldn't usually be treated as criminals, and normal consensual sex between unmarried couples wasn't a crime. I think it was a case of the lowest person on the food-chain taking all the blame. I shook myself out of my musing and sat.
Mentally smiling, I followed Angel's adventures through the weekend and into the week. I screamed, standing so abruptly I knocked over my chair and slammed into the wall behind me. I stood trembling. Angel's face had turned a ghostly white as she jumped to her feet.
"Are you all right? Can I help?" she asked, coming around the table to stand near me. Even through my panicked mind, I realized why I liked Angela. Most customers would be concerned about what would happen to them—not me. Slowly, I got control of my panic.
"I'm sorry, Angela. You will witness a terrible...accident and it shocked me. I'm sorry if it scared you. It just happened so suddenly. Please, sit. Let me make sure you have no reason for concern." When she sat, I had to control my urge to grab her hands. I fast forwarded to Wednesday and then slowed down the scene. It was early morning, and Jim was just leaving his condo complex and heading towards his car. Angela was standing out front apparently waiting for someone, when I 'heard' gunshots and Jim was thrown backward and fell holding his chest. Angela rushed to Jim while calling 9-1-1. I continued to watch through her eyes as the emergency vehicle arrived and a man and a woman jumped out. After a couple of minutes the woman shook her head. They loaded him onto a stretcher with his head covered. There was no doubt that he had died.
I spent a minute deciding how I could get Jim to come over here for the night, and then slowly went through Angela's week beginning at today. She visited me again on Thursday, but on the following Wednesday she was standing in the same place when Ron was shot. I took my hand off her and forced a smile I didn't feel.
"Sorry, Angela. You're going to have another fantastic week, with no...rapes. You might witness an accident but from afar."
"I'm warned, so I will be prepared. Unlike some, I do not like to see others’ misery. I would help if I could, but staring isn't helping." She smiled and left humming.
After locking the door, I sat trembling. The men who hired Ken and Sheila hadn't gone anywhere. They had just designed a test of unbelievable evil. I decided Angela was completely innocent. Someone had hired her to come to New Orleans. They were paying her to have a fortunetelling session with me once each week—and—to be in position to witness Jim, Ron, and Grace being killed. If I could see the future, I would see Jim being shot. If I could change the future I would do something so that Jim would not be coming home at that time. If I did, then Ron would be the next target. I guess they reasoned that I might be willing to let Jim get killed but not Jim, Ron, and Grace. If I hadn't bothered to make an excuse to keep Ron away, Grace would be next. Whoever they were, they had done their homework and knew the people close to me. The real evil was that if I couldn't tell the future or change it, three people would die. They intended to go through with it or else it wouldn't be her future.
I managed to grind up a mixture of passion flower extract, valerian root, and lemon balm which I took with a cup of black tea. I couldn't decide anything with my mind in turmoil like it was now. Maybe after a good night's sleep I could decide what I should do. Evil had won.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Revelations
It was hardly surprising I woke with a splitting headache. This time I didn't bother with herbs and took two Tylenol. I didn't need to be sedated; I just needed to get rid of my headache so I could begin to think. Three cups of coffee and an hour later, I felt like throwing up, but my headache was under control.
The evil men had found me and had devised a test that would prove I had my granny's ability to see and change the future. Committing suicide wasn't an option, since it wouldn't guarantee that Jim, Ron, and Grace wouldn't be killed. My antagonists might not be able to call it off, and if they could, what guarantee did I have that they would? They were evil and might kill my friends out of spite.
I couldn't call the police. I would have to tell them the truth. After I convinced them, the world would know my secret, and I wouldn't be safe anywhere. Who wouldn't want to know their future or what would happen tomorrow, so they could capitalize on it today. I didn't think that was why I had been gifted with the ability to see the future. Of course, I could help far more people if people knew I could, but how could I sort through the millions of requests for help and determine those I should, while avoiding those who would like to put me in a cage. My headache was back, and I took two more Tylenol.
I kept the shop closed while my mind searched for a solution. The morning dragged into the afternoon. One thing was for sure, I didn't have a lot of time to come up with an answer. I had to stop Jim from being killed. Right on cue, the phone rang. When I looked up, it was four o'clock, and I knew it was Jim.
"Yes?" I said while trying to make up my mind what to tell him.
"It's the doctor who is hoping to be the man of your dreams, offering to take you anywhere your heart desires," he said. I couldn't help the tears or the sobs. My enemies had made that an impossible dream just like they had destroyed Granny's dream of watching her granddaughter mature, and her great-grandchildren become adults.
"What's wrong, Renee?"
"Nothing... Everything..."
"I'll come right over—"
"No. If you are going to be home tonight, I'll come over. I need to talk."
"What me to pick you up?"
"No. I need time to... The walk will be good. I'll see you later," I said and hung up. I had no choice but to tell him the truth...some of the truth...something. He was involved whether he wanted to be or not, and it was my fault. My selfishness. Thoughtlessness. I reached for the Tylenol bottle and found it empty. I laid my head on the table and cried. When I jerked awake, it was dark. I had a quick shower, dressed, and left for Canal Street. As I walked, I began watching the people coming and going. They knew a lot about me. Was I being followed? Would they kidnap me—like now? I stopped walking and turned in circles looking for...something, someone. Of course, some people were looking at me. I was standing in one spot turning in circles. I began running. By the time I reached Jim's complex, I was panting and my heart racing. When I entered the lobby, the man on duty recognized me.
"Good evening, Ms. Mathur. Can I get you something? Maybe you should sit for a moment," he said, looking concerned. Looking into the mirrored surface behind him, it was no wonder. I was gasping like a fish out of water, and all the color had drained from my face. And I felt light headed and probably was none too steady on my feet.
"No, thank you. I probably overdid my run. I'll be fine," I said as I stepped into the elevator. I was a bit steadier when I stepped out of the elevator. I shouldn't have been surprised to find Jim was in the hallway. The man in the lobby probably called him.
"What's wrong?" He put his arm around me for support as we made our way to his unit. Once inside, he led me to the couch and spent a few minutes examining me—my eyes, pulse, and general inspection for injuries. "Are you feeling sick? You've been running. Did something frighten you... My God, did someone attack you?" He sat down next to me and pulled me close.
"No. There are some people after me, and I let my imagination get the better of me while walking here and panicked."
"I thought you told me your FBI friend, Grace, had the group under investigation. Certainly, that will stop them. They aren't going to be active while an investigation is ongoing."
"No, not that group. Another group. One far worse. That group wanted to close all of the Voodoo shops and chase the practicing mambos and houngans out of N’Orleans. This group wants me!"
"Why you?" Jim said with concern in his voice. "What did you do to them?"
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"I can tell the future. They want me for something they are planning," I said, grabbing his hand in desperation.
"Love, I think your kidnapping has had more of a psychological impact then we realized. It's not surprising considering what that maniac put you through. You just need time."
"No. There is another group, and they are going to kill you unless I help them."
"No one is going to kill me. I think your past kidnapping and torture has developed into a frightening hallucination. You need to talk this out with a professional."
I laughed, which didn't help my credibility. "I'll prove it," I said, trying to gain a little composure. "Give me your hands."
Jim loosened his grip on me and reluctantly held out his hands. I grasped them like a drowning woman would grasp at a lifesaver ring. I closed my eyes—nothing. Nothing. Not one picture. "No!" I screamed.
"What's wrong?"
"Granny couldn't tell her own fortune or mine, because I was family. I can't tell my fortune and... I can't tell yours because I'm in love with you," I said.
"That's good, isn't it?" He forced a smile.
"Jim, I'm not crazy," I pleaded.
"I know. You're in shock. A delayed reaction," he said as he helped me to my feet while dialing. "I'm Doctor Douglas, please send an ambulance to 1201 Canal Street. I have a patient that needs transportation to Tulane Medical Center.” I didn't need to go to a hospital. I needed him to listen to me. I tried several times to explain, but he wasn't listening. Downstairs, I was strapped onto a stretcher and whisked away in an ambulance. At the hospital, I was injected with something and soon didn't care.
* * *
When I woke, I was in a bed and could smell antiseptics. I lay with my eyes closed trying to put the events of last night into perspective. I had been hysterical, and Jim in his concern for me had me rushed to the hospital and sedated. I opened my eyes, to find Jim curled, half asleep in an uncomfortable looking chair with my hand in his. I squeezed his hand. The man was a gem. After last night he should be running away from me as fast as he could.
"You're awake. How do you feel? You had me worried last night." He rose and kissed me lightly on the lips. "I've talked to a respected—"
"My love, I'm sorry I scared you last night. You were right to be concerned. I panicked. And"—I laughed—"when I discovered how much I loved you, it made it worse—"
"Why? How is loving me...causing a problem?"
"Jim, get me released from here. You did the right thing last night, but I've calmed down. I want to hold services tonight, for my congregation and me. Would you do a favor for the woman who loves you?"
"... For her I'd do anything." He smiled. "You've got me twisted around your little finger."
"Arrange for a get together with you, me, Ron, and Grace. I'd like to meet tonight after my service. Grace will understand it relates to questions she has had and will know it's important. And I promise you the woman you think you want to marry isn't crazy, although she did act like that last night. You wanted to know everything about me, well tonight you will get to see it all." I put my hand to his lips before he could respond. "Please, trust me."
* * *
Jim got me released in the early afternoon and took me to for an early dinner. The poor man was treating me like a fragile piece of antique china. "I called Grace Casey and introduced myself as your...steady...you did say you loved me." He paused waiting my response.
"Yes. I did and I meant it. And you're stuck with me for so long as you are interested," I said, kissing his cheek.
"You were right. She did appear to understand and agreed she and her husband would meet with us after your service. I hope you don't mind, but I told her a little about last night."
"No. I don't mind. It must have been scary, and you are right to still be concerned."
"Anyway, she surprised me. She and Ron are coming to your service tonight. She said it would give us a chance to get to know each other before whatever you wanted to discuss. And she and Ron had never seen a Voodoo service."
"That's great. It doesn't matter to me that people think Vodou a cult. My friends and those I love know I believe in one God, in Vodou being a reasonable way to honor that one God, and in helping people in God's name." I smiled. "I didn't say he or she because I don’t know which and seriously doubt God has a sex."
Jim laughed. "A valid point. I hope you don't think you are going to scare me off. I've caught you, and I'm not letting go. You're a keeper."
* * *
Jim dropped me off at home so I could wash, dress, and give some thought to my evening service. He came back in time to take me to the service with time to talk to those attending the service or there just to watch. When we arrived, Grace and Ron were already there.
"Mambo Renee," Grace said as we approached. "You look well." She gave me a hug.
"You look spectacular," Ron said, giving me a hug and kiss on the cheek.
"Grace, Ron, this is Jim. The man who insists he wants to marry me," I said, wishing it would come true but knowing it wouldn't—couldn't. "I'm glad y’all decided to come watch. It will be different from what you are probably accustomed, but Jim knows enough to outline what is happening. Afterward, I'll answer any questions. Vodou is one of my favorite topics."
I left them talking and wandered around talking to my congregation, their guests, and those spectators who seemed interested. As a result, it was well past seven when I finally began to draw the ve've for Legba-Papa Labas to open the gates between the Loa and those attending the ceremony. Then I drew the ve've for Papa Loko. Tonight, I would seek Papa Loko, the father of all mambos and houngans and known as a just judge. I felt the need to be judged for my actions tonight and those to come.
As I danced and sang, I could feel Papa Loko's presence, and although he was known to be harsh when things were not done properly, I felt nothing. Energy filled me and everything seemed to get quiet and butterflies fluttered around my head—Loko's symbol. And although I spun and undulated in response to the energy that filled me, I felt at peace, serenity so deep it spread into every molecule of my body. When I stopped, several people had collapsed onto the floor, others appeared dazed, and butterflies had landed on me.
* * *
I spent another hour talking with people about their experiences, about the ceremony, and Vodou. Everyone was quiet in the car on the way back. Jim stopped to pick up two large pizzas. When we arrived, we retired to Jim's unit.
Grace was first to speak, "The butterflies...?" A question rather than a statement.
"I don't know, Grace. I would tell you I prayed to the Loa...saint who is a judge of right and wrong. I prayed for guidance for tonight and what is to come. Butterflies are his symbol. Before you jump to conclusion about trickery." I held up my hand to stop any comments. "I need to explain why I asked you all here tonight. It will answer many of your questions."
"Yes, it did seem like trickery. And now you say you prayed to a Loa whose symbol is a butterfly, it screams trickery, but that would be so unlike you," Ron said and Jim nodded agreement.
"You don't have to, Renee. I believed you when you said it would be a death sentence," Grace said. Jim's eyes darted between Grace and me.
"Death sentence?" He stuttered. I took his hand in mine.
"Yes. And now you three have become involved. I scared my love to death last night because I panicked and became incoherent. So let me start at the beginning." I picked up a piece of pizza and took a bite, which prompted everyone to start eating. Jim put a couple of bottles of wine on the table, and I poured myself a glass. Everyone was going to need several by the time I finished.
"My granny could see the future and to some degree change it. A gift, or a curse as it turned out, from the Loa to her mother who passed it to her. Granny should have passed it to my mother but didn't because she felt my mother would have abused the gift. She felt it was meant to be used to help people but had always been very careful not to let people know the clarity with which sh
e could see the future and the degree to which she could influence it."
"But if the future is set—"
"Please. Let me finish. Somehow, someone discovered that she had the gift. They approached Granny and wanted her to use the gift to do something she considered evil. Not merely an abuse of the gift, but evil. When she refused, they threatened to kill me if she didn't cooperate. Somehow she convinced them she would. She spent the time getting me ready for her death and then committed suicide." I stopped for a couple of bites out of my pizza and a couple of sips of wine.
"I know your granny's death must have been hard—" Grace started but I put up my hand.
"Shortly afterward, a man named Ken and a woman named Sheila showed up pretending to be tourists. Ken paid for a fortunetelling session. Ironically, that gave everything away. I saw their subsequent search of my home and their meeting with another man to report progress. Then using the information from my scheduling book, they interviewed each of my regular clients. But like Granny, I had been careful in what I said and the results proved inconclusive. But they have devised the perfect test. One that will prove conclusively I have Granny's gift."
"That's impossible. You would have to tell someone the specifics of some future event and they would have to wait to see if it happened. How are they going to get you to tell them the future...if you would know what they were up to because you can see their future... It's giving me a headache just thinking about it," Ron said taking a drink of his wine.
"They are both malevolent and clever. They have paid someone who knows nothing except she is being paid to have me tell her future once a week. She is to be present when a given event will occur. Thus, I will know it is going to occur. If I let it happen, then there is a chance I can't tell the future. If I change it then it's likely I can not only see the event, but I can influence it."
"Well, just ignore the event," Jim said frowning. Grace was shaking her head ever so slightly.
"How can you change the future?" Ron asked.