by Dina Rae
Jake couldn’t help but think of his spell. Pete should have been the one dying or even better, dead. Jake couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling of guilt. Nine. Nine was the theme of the week. No coincidence.
“How’s your back?” Leah asked as they watched the heart-rate monitor.
“I’ll heal. I’m so sorry. Do you think Pete egged him on? Maybe could have stopped it? I mean, your brother doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to have a showdown with the new boyfriend. And a gun? That’s odd.”
“No, he’s not the kind of guy that likes confrontation. And it’s Pete’s gun. I bet it was Pete’s idea as well. Pete is leaving out a whole lot of details. He either had something to do with it or did nothing to stop it. He couldn’t stand T.J. All he did was bitch about him staying with us. Since I’m the only one working, I insisted that T.J. stay. I hate him, Jake. And one day I’ll leave him. Just watch me,” Leah whispered. Her eyes darted towards the door, not sure if or when Pete was coming back. They continued to watch the monitor in silence. A few hours later T.J. died.
***
Tom Novak was annoyed with his wife. She had ignored his advice about being too pushy with Henry’s new friend. Tom silently fumed on the way over to Chippewa Trailer Park. Jessica pointed to his trailer, letting Henry out of the car to knock on his door. Henry came back without Jake.
“No one home. Maybe it’s not his house,” Henry said. “But I could have sworn I went here to use the bathroom once.”
“That’s a good one. All this fussing over the boy and you don’t even know where he lives. Alright. Jake will have to sit this sermon out,” Tom said as he headed out of the trailer park.
Tom was forced to park in the overflow parking lot also known as the late parking lot because of the time wasted at Chippewa Park. They walked into the modern building and were surprised all of the children’s classes were canceled.
The pastor was doing a series of sermons on Jesus’ view of forgiveness. He abruptly announced the series would be continued later during the month. Today he wanted to preach about Haiti. Regular attendees were asked to watch a short mini-movie about the island in lieu of their devastation. The film was less than thirty minutes. It amazed both Tom and Jessica their church could put something this well done together right after the earthquake.
Pastor Franck took the podium after the film. “As you can see from the film, from the news, from word of mouth, Haiti needs help. We’ve got aftershocks, probably more to come. Chaos and destruction everywhere. Thousands of more dead bodies are being found every day. What can we do when we are so far away? The question is ‘What can’t we do?’ We can lift these people back up by giving them a helping hand. Food, water, medicine drives, donations, and clothes are all needed. We’ve got tables setting up in the lobby for you to sign up after the service. We also planned mission trip and in need of volunteers. Some of our sister churches have jumped on missionary work. They will be going over spring break as pioneers of sorts, setting up a missionary camp for us to work safely. I’m calling on all families willing to sacrifice their time during the summer to go to Haiti and do a number of things such as clearing rubble, rebuilding their toppled buildings, encouraging sanitation, and spending time with Haitians who are curious about Jesus. We are prevented from making any concrete plans until we have some numbers of those willing to go, who want to share their valuable skills with those in need.”
Once the pastor was finished asking for help, they ended in prayer. Tom and Jessica headed for the Haitian food relief table.
“Mom, Dad, over here. Let’s go on a mission,” Henry said.
“I’m not wasting my summer…”
“Excuse me? Wasting? It’s a waste to help others in God’s name?” Tom sternly interrupted Natalie. “Drop the attitude now. And Henry, you’ve never been out of the state of Wisconsin. Even our weekend getaways have upset you. Why do you want to go?”
“I want to help those people. Their lives are wrecked. Like Pastor Franck says, they need people to rebuild. And Dad, you’re a carpenter. You know how to do this kind of thing. You could teach me something important.”
“But Henry, your Dad’s right. Change of scenery upsets you. If you want to help the poor Haitians, then let’s donate and ship them some food. There are so many other ways to show your compassion,” Jessica added.
Henry would not be patronized. Tom was almost proud. He was becoming a man. While Henry and his mother argued, Tom began to wonder if the trip could be possible. A warm vision of him, his wife, and the kids bonding over a construction site swept over him. He could hold back no longer.
“Jess, the boy wants to go. It’s time we get out of Wisconsin, and if he’s called to do God’s work, then we need to support his calling. God just gave us an opportunity, and you’re trying to get him to settle for stuffing boxes with food.”
“But Tom, he’s only interested in Haiti because of Jake’s friend, Lucien,” Jessica explained.
“What’s wrong with that? He’s interested. Let it be already. I’ll tell you what-let’s see if we can sign up for a week. If things go well, maybe they’ll let us extend our time. C’mon, don’t be a wet blanket.”
“Mom, what about me? I don’t want to go. It sounds boring,” Natalie whined.
Tom saw a flash of anger burst from Jess’s eyes. Natalie knew how to get under her mother’s skin.
“Young lady, I’m sick of your spoiled attitude. Maybe Henry is right. Maybe your dad can teach both of you something of value. Let me think about it. We don’t have to officially sign up for another couple of weeks,” Jess stated.
Chapter 14
Jake comforted Leah while the doctor and nurses ran into the room with their machines and paddles, unable to keep T.J. alive. The hospital staff flooded them with a round of ‘I’m so sorries’ as they left the room until only the doctor was left. The last thing left to say was “You need to make the proper arrangements.” Jake knew that was a.k.a. “we need the extra bed.” The exact ritual was performed the day his mother died.
“Jake, my mom really needs to be here. Can you watch Rhianna over at her place?” He nodded. “Thanks. You’ve been so great through this…I’ll get Pete to take you over there. He can then bring my mom back here. We got to work on getting you your license. I promise to take you driving after we figure out what to do about T.J.’s funeral and all. I don’t have much money and neither does my mom. Don’t think we can afford a proper burial. So many things to talk about.”
Wherever Pete went after he stormed off could not be far. He was back in the room in less than fifteen minutes and dutifully dropped Jake off at Leah’s mother’s house.
“She holds me responsible for all of this, you know. That Mona’s boyfriend was the one who killed the bastard, not me,” Pete slurred. Jake could smell the stench of beer on this breath. Don’t worry, my dear uncle, you’ll get what’s coming.
Jake spent the greater part of Sunday watching his step-sister. He liked Leah’s mother’s home. It was clean and cozy. Why would she want to leave, especially to live in a trailer with Uncle Pete? She was only twenty years old. Too young to throw in the towel and settle for such an asshole. How did Pete get a girl like her? She had so many things going for her. If she only realized…He needed to stop thinking of her like that. She was his foster mother.
Jake shifted his thoughts onto Pete. Besides being a mean son-of-a-bitch, he had Leah, at least for the moment. Pete should be the one sitting in the morgue with a tag on his toe, not T.J.
Late Sunday, Leah picked Jake and Rhianna up and took them both home. For the first time he had lived with them, she offered to call in sick for him for school. Jake refused. The worst day of school was a better day than at home.
Upon Monday morning arrival, Henry confronted Jake at his locker. He had a hurt expression on his face.
“Why weren’t you home on Sunday? We came to get you for church. You missed a great sermon-all about Haiti. Our church is setting up a mission to help them
this summer. I want to go.”
“T.J., that’s Leah’s brother who was staying with us, died early Sunday morning. That’s why I wasn’t home. I’ll tell you about it during free time.”
Both walked to the Zoo in silence, almost late for the bell. Mrs. Powell predictably allowed them free time in the afternoon while playing news coverage on Haiti. Jake told Henry everything, including his thoughts on the Voodoo spell they had cast.
“Thought you wanted your uncle dead,” blurted out Henry.
“Shhh! Not in public. Lucien’s after school, okay?” Henry nodded and they remained quiet, watching the news.
***
At 3:10 p.m. the boys were dropped off by Henry’s mother. As Lucien got to know Henry, the boy grew on him. He carefully listened to Jake as the boy reported his tragic weekend. For the first time in their relationship Lucien was upset, but sat stone-faced, instantly recognizing the problem. The loas would be angry.
“Say something! What should I do?” cried Jake.
Lucien wobbled over to the Voodoo doll and opened it up. “Is it possible some of your uncle’s taglocks were not your uncle’s, maybe T.J.’s perhaps? Where did you get these things? Pete’s bathroom?”
“Yes, that’s where Jake told me to go,” Henry answered defensively.
“Does T.J. use Pete’s bathroom or yours, Jake?” Lucien asked.
“Mine. Pete wouldn’t let him in his bathroom, but…sometimes he went in there when Pete wasn’t home. Oh no! T.J. smokes a different brand of cigarettes…I think…But he’s always bumming off of Leah and Pete. I didn’t think about that. We screwed up.”
“We? Henry? Me? No, Jake, you screwed up,” Lucien sternly said. Jake’s eyes misted. “Stop crying. I guess I wasn’t emphasizing the importance of the taglocks. It’s okay, well not for T.J., but we can undo his fate in the afterlife he is about to enter. And Pete? From the sounds of it, he’s getting more violent. We’ll try again, but first you must undo a wrong. After T.J.’s wake, before he is buried…”
“Lucien, I’m so sorry. I want to make things right! Will you please help me? I want to be the best bokor in Wisconsin. Give me another chance,” Jake pleaded.
“The next time you place a hex on your uncle, it will be much simpler since T.J. is not around. It’s impertinent that you direct T.J.’s gros-bon-ange to the Cosmos so he can be free. I’m very serious. The loas have their own way of doling out justice. Once you have information on T.J.’s wake, I’ll tell you what to do,” Lucien promised.
“Have you heard from your family? I’m trying to talk my mom into going to Haiti this summer for a mission,” Henry rambled. Lucien’s irritated demeanor vanished. Could Henry be a gift from Papa Legba? The wheels in Lucien’s mind began to turn.
***
Jessica ran a literacy program with other church members within the community. They volunteered at Indian reservations to teach adults and children how to read. While they interacted with their students, Jessica began to ask her friends about the upcoming trip to Haiti.
“Jess, why are you so interested? Thought Henry was difficult to travel with,” Carol stated.
“Yes, but I think he’s been moved by the Spirit to go, or at least that’s how Tom is spinning it. It is kind of peculiar, though. He’s fascinated with the earthquake and the island…”
“Keith and I are going. We signed up yesterday after the sermon. I’m so excited. This is our first mission,” Carol added. “That would be wonderful if you and your family came along!”
“I’m thinking about it,” Jessica said.
“Well, you two are just too good for mankind. There is no way in hell, pardon my French, that I would ever go to that God-forsaken island. They’re rampant with AIDs and who knows what else. They practically worship the devil with that Voodoo Hoodoo stuff. The news won’t tell you about all of the violence going on in those flimsy camps. Too dangerous of a place for me. And Jessica, you have a teenage daughter to consider,” Virginia declared.
“What do you mean God-forsaken island?” Jessica asked.
“Witchcraft, zombies, black art…You name it. They have these rituals where anything goes, if you know what I mean. Sex, sacrifice, drugs…” Virginia explained.
“Don’t listen to her. All negative stereotypes. The missionary camps have always been safe. Yes, there are risks, but doing God’s work is all the reward I need. Think about it. Don’t let her scare you,” Carol said.
Jessica got back to work. Virginia was one to blow things out of proportion, but she couldn’t shake the bad feeling that enveloped her. Women’s intuition told her to forget about the upcoming mission.
Chapter 15Lucien had been living on borrowed time since his forty-ninth birthday. Back in Haiti, a few months before his legal problems, he had been diagnosed with inoperable brain cancer. Doctors gave him a two month maximum. There was no Voodoo remedy for cancer, but Lucien’s experimentation of the black arts allowed him to postpone the inevitable, a way to cheat death.
As a young man Lucien took his Voodoo legacy and compounded it to a never-before-seen level. Much controversy surrounded his unconventional methods, earning him the reputation of being part juju man and part mad scientist. He played with spells, rituals, and various plants for magical powers. Every once in a while he stumbled upon something new. As the years flew by, his critics deemed him as unholy, shunning the laws of nature. But his supporters showered him with money.
Lucien amassed a fortune. Other bokors and houngans of a lesser stature became both jealous and suspicious. He became a scapegoat for a multitude of crimes ranging from petty theft all the way to zombification, some accusations true. Eventually murder charges were brought against him. Although the charge was trumped up, Lucien wasn’t exactly innocent.
Predicting his own execution, he moved his fortune to the U.S. and shape-shifted into a rodent. The tiny size allowed him to crawl through the bars of his cell. A guard witnessed the transformation. Some refused to believe the outrageous story, claiming the guard was bribed and let him escape. This worked to Lucien’s advantage. He shortly regained his body and ran into the sea, leaving his family nothing but his legend.
Once in America, he floated around like a gypsy until feeling the effects of age. He visited Hayward for a weekend ten years ago and never left. Chippewa Park had everything he needed-peace, quiet, modern day conveniences, and a cemetery next door. He planned on living out the rest of his days with other elderly neighbors and die. Then he met Jake, a gift from the loas. If properly mentored, the boy could continue his life’s work. The idea gave the old man a new reason to live. If he could just hang on a little bit longer…
The Voodoo doll lesson was a mistake. Jake had carelessly taken taglocks belonging to T.J. instead of his uncle. The last thing Lucien wanted for the boy was the loas to dislike him; they hated being arbitrarily used. But Jake was not all to blame. Lucien wasn’t clear enough with his instructions, forgetting Jake was a boy not a man.
For Jake’s next lesson, Lucien planned to teach him how to counteract a spell that went wrong. Lucien sat back on his porch and smoked his pipe in the dead of winter. T.J.’s death could have some benefit to the old man. Maybe Jake’s mistake wasn’t a mistake after all.
Born into generations of bokors, Lucien was trained from a little boy on how to tamper with the dead. His grandfather taught him about the two parts of the soul, the ti-bon-ange and the gros-bon-ange.
The gros-bon-ange left the newly deceased’s body and travelled to a reservoir of other souls somewhere in the Cosmos. To ensure its natural journey, the houngan or, at times the bokor, stuffed cotton up the corpses’ nose and ears, and then bound the extremities together. A rock or brick was placed inside of the corpse’s mouth. If the corpse wore pants with pockets, the pockets were turned inside out.
When one died an unnatural death, problems occurred. The gros-bon-ange of the victim didn’t ascend like the others. Maybe unfinished business, maybe the Cosmos wasn’t prepared, whatever the reason
, it would hover and haunt whoever was responsible for its death. In order to gain back earthly balance between the spiritual and physical world, the houngan or bokor coaxed the gros-bon-ange into its natural course. This usually involved a ritual and spell backed with a powerful concoction.
Lucien wasn’t especially worried about the gros-bon-ange’s passage into the afterlife, and maybe he should have been. It was the ti-bon-ange that most interested him. This part of the soul made a person unique via personality, characteristics, appearance, and temperament. This was also where evil hid, patiently awaiting its freedom. If manipulated correctly, the ti-bon-ange was the most powerful weapon in all of sorcery.
Houngans, mambas, and other high priests tried preventing a fresh ti-bon-ange from getting in the wrong hands by performing the Nine Day Ritual. This act buried and sealed the ti-bon-ange with its body into the grave. The name of the ritual referred to the time period in which a ti-bon-ange would hover outside of its corpse. As a young man, Lucien discovered a loop hole. Through his own blend of incantations, he could trap the ti-bon-ange into a govi or jar, and then use it for his own purpose. This discovery proved most useful decades later, enabling him to keep on living despite his cancer and old age. Multiple side effects began to show. He prayed to the loas for more time, promising to quit feeding off of the dead once Jake was fully trained.
Because of T.J.’s good health and youth, his ti-bon-ange was especially desirable. Lucien’s personal hoard was down to two ti-bon-anges, both captured from deceased senior citizens, each with a weak life force. Coupled with Lucien’s own physical restrictions, his stash of ti-bon-anges gave him another month or two to live. T.J.’s ti-bon-ange was much more robust. Lucien estimated its strength would last at least six month, maybe even a year.
Jake had told him the funeral would be at Shady Oaks Funeral home the following Saturday. Lucien knew the place well. T.J. would then be buried in St. Mark’s Cemetery adjacent to Chippewa Park so that Leah and her mother would be close enough to visit. T.J.’s ti-bon-ange would stay close to his corpse for a two week maximum. Lucien had some time. He would wait until after the funeral to capture the life force of the soul.