Bad Juju

by Dina Rae

  The only Bizango brother with any doubts was Lucien’s uncle. He gave Lucien that knowing glance, but kept the deception to himself. His uncle salvaged Phillippe’s head, picked it clean until all that was left was the skull, and then made it into a goblet for his nephew. He presented the gift to honor Lucien after he was unanimously promoted to bokor status. The position granted him access to ancient spells written in scrolls, books, and loose parchment paper. Some were already familiar, passed down to him from his great-great-great-great grandfather, Plato the Wizard, but other spells were new material. He practiced the craft all hours of the day with blind ambition.

  Lucien saw Philippe as a buffoon. The man had volumes of ancient information at his fingertips and he never touched it, relying on verbal spells he had learned from his father. Lucien later learned that Philippe was illiterate.

  Soon ancient spell books weren’t enough. Thirsty for knowledge, Lucien experimented on his own, adding more spells and hexes to his repertoire. One of his favorite tricks was using baka or animal possessing spirits for his own agenda. These spirits brought him closer to the loas, especially Baron Samedi.

  As Lucien’s powers grew, he felt like a god. Manipulating zombies, separating souls, and making Voodoo dolls were some of the miracles he performed. Fame and fortune soon followed. When too many dead bodies turned up, he was the one who was blamed. He relied on Voodoo to help him escape his jail cell. Now banned from his homeland without need to continue his sorcery, he still could not let his life’s work die. That’s where Jake came in. He unfortunately brought Henry into the mix.

  T.J.’s death was not a consequence of Voodoo, but a warning from the Cosmos. Lucien should have stopped the mentoring the boys right then and there, but when he learned Henry would be in Haiti he couldn’t leave it alone.

  Henry was all too willing to deliver an envelope to his daughter. Inside the envelope was a pad of paper filled with his most impressive hexes and healing methods. These family secrets would make her and her family wealthy beyond their imagination. And then Jake rushed over one humid morning in June, announcing the return of the Novak family along with the tragedy they encountered. Lucien’s conscience whispered Giselle, his daughter, was somehow to blame. Was she jealous? Did she tell one of her siblings or his wives? He wondered.

  Lucien pushed the possibility out of his mind, preferring to believe Henry was a victim of angry, homeless people settled in the nearby refugee camp. But the boy was found in Port-au-Prince, said his nagging inner voice.

  Giselle confirmed the delivery when Lucien called, describing Henry as unfriendly and in a hurry, denying the boy’s abduction. Could she have used him in a ceremony? Or even a Black Mass? Oh Baron, he was not part of our deal.

  Chapter 39

  Jessica robotically followed Dr. Gold’s instructions down to the letter. Over the last two months, she hauled Henry out to Eau Claire for his psychiatric therapy, praying several times a day for God to lead him out of his haze. He would eat, but had to be fed like a baby. He would drink, but had to drink with a straw held up to his mouth. He would allow others to lead him, yet had still not spoken a single word since they returned from Haiti. She began to prepare herself for the possibility of him never speaking again.

  Since Jake had recently gotten his driver’s license, he had been by the house several times to see Henry. During his most recent visit, Jake brought Lucien Nazaire. Jessica couldn’t help but notice the old man’s rejuvenated appearance since the last time she had seen him. She had everyone sit around the kitchen table while she served cookies and tea. Henry stared at the wall without any signs of recognition. Once all the pleasantries were made, she got up the nerve to ask some questions.

  “Lucien, you’re Haitian. Do you know a lot about Voodoo?” He smiled. “I assumed you would.” She also assumed he taught Henry a thing or two about it. Part of her held him accountable for Henry’s condition. She blamed Lucien for planting the seed of interest about the Haitian culture which led to their mission and ultimately the horrible incident. She sensed there was more to Lucien, something evil. There was a moment of silence. She paused, and then poured more tea, rehashing their Haitian nightmare until Jake politely stopped her.

  “Mrs. Novak, I already told him everything. He has some suspicions about what caused all of this.”

  “Then you must know Tom was sure the police were holding back information. Why would they do this? What do you think happened?” cried Jessica.

  His eyes looked down at the floor, suggesting guilt or avoidance to her questions. “Is he making progress with his doctor?” Lucien queried.

  “No, not at all. I’ve had to quit my job in order to take him to therapy. Not really a job, more of volunteer work. But I really enjoyed it. Now I spend hours and hours playing worthless mind games the doctor thinks will jog his memory. I can’t leave him alone. Please, tell me your theory.”

  “You’re not going to like what I have to say, but from observing him and what Jake has told me…I think he was taken as a vessel,” Lucien confessed.

  Confused, Jessica mumbled, “Huh?”

  “Vessel, channel…He was taken for a ritual. Did he wear a bright scarf when the police found him?” She shook her head, but was instantly reminded of a nightmare she had before the trip. “I think he stumbled upon a ritual, and the bokor wanted to use his body for a loa, maybe a dead ancestor. Spirit possession. Something happened. He got away,” Lucien said, leaving out the part he played in Henry’s assault.

  “So you think he’s possessed? That’s ridiculous! His shrink makes more sense, and he’s an idiot! Okay, let’s say for the sake of argument that you are right. What are the cuts we found on him all about?” Jess sarcastically asked.

  “I’m sorry that I’ve upset you, but do not mock what you don’t understand. The cuts were made for his blood. Real blood, both animal and human, is used all of the time in Voodoo ceremonies. They certainly didn’t want him dead. One day he will awake,” Lucien assured.

  “Logically, if Voodoo can put him into a haze, then Voodoo can bring him back.” Jess stated.

  “Listen, Mrs. Novak, I need to be honest with you. When Jake told me about your son’s condition, I begged him to take me over here. I think I can heal him,” Lucien announced with the utmost sincerity.

  “Heal him with Voodoo? Absolutely not! That’s blasphemy! His soul belongs to Christ!” she ranted.

  “And Christ may already have it! But at least let me…” Lucien insisted.

  “So now you think he’s dead. I’m sorry you came here. You need to leave.” Jessica stood up and gestured him toward the door.

  “Please, Mrs. Novak. One potion and one prayer and then I’m gone. What do you have to lose?” Lucien pleaded.

  Something within his eyes set off every alarm within her body. “You’re insane! Stay away from him, from all of us! Get out of my house!”

  But Lucien wasn’t leaving. Instead, he fell to his knees and chanted something in an unknown dialect. He took a clay bottle out of his pocket and placed it in Henry’s hand. Without having to bring it to his lips, Henry raised the bottle and drank. His eyes flashed for only for a fraction of a second, but she panicked.

  “Finish drinking it, Henry.” Lucien’s hazel eyes swirled into a luminescent emerald green. Henry finished whatever was inside the bottle and stared blankly at the floor.

  “I said get out!” Jessica lunged at him from across the kitchen table. Tea cups and plates crashed onto the ceramic floor in thousands of pieces. Lucien sprung up from his knees and backed away from her.

  “I will go now, in peace. I only want what you want. And that is to get Henry back. I was just trying to help. May your God be with you,” Lucien said as he and Jake exited the front door. As Jessica watched them get into Jake’s car, she could have sworn she’d seen Lucien take out some kind of dark, powdery matter and sprinkle it all over the walkway of the house. He moved with the speed and grace of someone less than half of his age. When she first met h
im the boys had to steady him out of his chair. Once they pulled away, she rushed outside. Nothing. Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me. I’m losing it. A quack using my kid as a guinea pig and a Voodoo witch doctor trying to heal him. Too much, Lord. Through the window, she watched Henry. He hadn’t moved from the kitchen chair and was still staring at the floor.

  She went inside, cleaned up the broken dishes, and hugged her son. His body was stiff, much like a bag of dog food, but she just wanted the human contact. He did not pull away and that was enough.

  “Please come back, Henry,” Jessica cried. His eyes were vacant, emotionless. Maybe the flash she had witnessed never happened.

  ***

  Lucien shook his head in disappointment as Jake sped away from Henry’s house. Jessica refused his help, claiming he was evil. On some level he admired her for seeing through him. She was above it all, seeing evil as absolute while opposing it with great conviction. If only he could have had that kind of clarity.

  Before she threw him out of her house, Lucien got Henry to drink an elixir of sorts, a wake-me-up beverage. He swore he saw a flash of personality, maybe wickedness. He sprinkled gris-gris for protection. Henry’s family would need it after he was fully awake. Lucien surmised Henry’s mental state to Jake on the car ride home.

  “Jessica mentioned a psychiatrist. She really has no idea what’s inside of him,” Lucien said.

  “Is he a zombie?” Jake asked. “Certainly acts like one.”

  “Maybe. Or else he’s possessed. Possession I can fix,” Lucien said.

  “Possessed by a loa? A dead person’s spirit? A demon?” Jake asked.

  “Probably a demon or djab. And hopefully only one. Could you call and check on his…condition?” Jake nodded and dropped him by his trailer. He rushed home to be with Leah who he was not so discreetly playing house with now that Pete was out of the way.

  ***

  The next day, Lucien saw a police car in Ed Carillo’s driveway. John, Ed’s son, and Ed sat outside with Starbuck coffees that John must have brought over. Lucien had met John numerous times and judged him to be a good son and an honest cop. Curious about the policeman’s thoughts, he got dressed and walked over to Ed’s, attempting to get an invite into their little bullshit session. He was in luck.

  “Hello Lucien. Wanna join us. Just chewing the fat. Lots to talk about these days,” Ed offered.

  “I was hoping you’d ask. Hello John, always a pleasure. Quite a busy year for all of Hayward’s Finest. Glad to see you,” Lucien said with a smile. He approached John with an extended hand. John shook it and partially stood. “Please sit. I’ll just grab a chair.” Lucien lifted a plastic one off of a nearby stack.

  “Beautiful morning,” Ed said. “John was just filling me in about the teacher. Remember, last day of school? She’s still in a coma.”

  “So sad. Any leads? Who could have done such a thing to her? Or to the girl, Brittany?” Lucien asked. He had his own suspicions, blaming himself for setting the stage for high school drama.

  “I wish. I was telling my dad the detectives haven’t gotten any encouraging lab results back. Whoever was responsible did a helluva cleaning job. We thought it might be the girl’s boyfriend, but he had a solid alibi. Poor boy has his own problems, catatonic. Isn’t he one of Jake’s friends?” John asked.

  “Henry. And yes, he’s Jake’s only friend,” Lucien replied.

  “You’re his friend, too,” Ed said.

  “Maybe, but I’m more like a father or grandfather. Who we kidding? At my age, more like a great-great grandfather,” Lucien said. They all laughed even though it was true. “Jake’s real dad left. Who knows where he is. And his uncle, well…he was not a good role model.”

  “He’s still missing. You think he’s dead?” asked John. Lucien guessed John was fishing instead of gossiping.

  “Who knows and who cares. One less asshole to worry about. I take that back. Hopefully, for all of them, he’s dead,” Ed scowled. “He was some piece of work.”

  “Just because someone isn’t a good person, doesn’t mean they deserve to die. Maybe he was murdered?” John proposed. “Then it’s a police matter…”

  “Yada, yada, yada. Like it matters. He can burn in Hell now, or wait and then burn later. You wanna hear something creepy? I shouldn’t gossip, especially to the cops,” Ed chuckled, “but a couple of days ago I saw Jake and Leah carrying groceries. He put his hand on her ass, I swear. I know because I was looking at it the whole time.”

  “Looking at his hand?” Lucien asked.

  “No, her ass. She’s got a great one. Anyway, she didn’t seem to mind the kid touching her, like they had something going on,” Ed said.

  “He’s seventeen,” Lucien said, trying to act as if it wasn’t important.

  “Yeah. And she’s what? Twenty? Twenty-one? Wearing those outfits, dancing at The Dollhouse…She’s every boy’s wet dream. Maybe he took care of Pete for good,” John suggested.

  “Oh no. He was terrified of his uncle. And Pete was so much bigger and stronger. If you’re implying Jake had…” Lucien defended.

  “Relax!” barked Ed. “We’re just talking. What if she, dressed in one of her skimpy get-ups, put him up to it? Or what if she did it herself? Huh?”

  “It had to piss her off, you know, that whole thing with her brother. Pete was in the middle of it. It was his gun that he gave T.J. Had to be a set up,” added John.

  “Yes, but we all know it’s just as reasonable to believe he took off. Maybe he found someone better or richer to mooch off of,” Lucien said.

  “Maybe. I’ve seen more strange things this past year than I ever had throughout my twenty-six years of service. I know they’re all related. Not sure how or if I’ll ever prove it, but it’s no coincidence your boy Jake and his weird friend are connected to all of it,” John said.

  “They’re good kids,” Lucien said.

  “Can’t vouch for Henry, but he seems like a good kid. And Jake, we all know what a sweetheart that boy is. He’s got a heart as big as the sun. So helpful. A real gift around here,” Ed said.

  “And he deserves so much better,” Lucien said.

  Suddenly, Lucien’s head felt heavy and he had a difficult time concentrating on the rest of what John and Ed were saying, but politely nodded as if he did. He kept having visions of a woman he had never met, but somehow knew her name was Mona.

  “She would have taken me back. She loved me,” Lucien blurted involuntarily.

  “Lucien, what or who are you talking about?” Ed asked. His confused look made Lucien realize his thoughts were said aloud.

  “Mona. If only she hadn’t thrown me out. None of this would have happened,” Lucien said. Oh no, T.J. has control of my tongue.

  “Is Mona your ex-wife?” asked John. He looked at his father and shrugged.

  “Are you having a stroke? Should I call 911? John can take you to the ER,” Ed said with urgency.

  Lucien might have lost control of his speech, but he still had control of his body. He stood up and shook his head. With every ounce of concentration, he squeaked out a ‘no, I’m fine,’ and then waved goodbye and walked home.

  Once alone in his bedroom, he looked into the mirror and studied his face. His wrinkles and age spots were once again visible. His body reverted back to painful arthritis while his mind was being taken over by T.J.’s ti-bon-ange. He didn’t have much time left to make things right. Jake was his only hope.

  Chapter 40

  A good cry later, Jessica quit feeling sorry for herself and her son. Later on in the late afternoon she drove Henry to his next appointment with Dr. Gold. His psychiatric sessions were uneventful, bordering on a complete waste of time. Had her insurance not have paid most of his four hundred dollar hour fee, she would have terminated his services within the first week. From what she had witnessed, his treatments were almost laughable, but she promised Tom she would keep an open mind to his modern therapy for the remainder of the summer.

  Dr. Gold’s
technique solely involved Eye Movement Desensitization Response or EMDR. From what Jessica could ascertain, the treatment involved the doctor tapping and moving his finger while the patient listened to headphones with different recorded noises and watched flashing images.

  Jessica shuttled her son inside of Dr. Gold’s office, sat down in the waiting room, and stared much like Henry did all day long. Moira, his secretary and mother, tried making idle conversation, but Jessica would not turn her head to acknowledge the woman. She no longer cared about social etiquette, resigned to a life revolved around Henry. Self-pity came back faster than the same five pounds she kept on losing.

  “Mrs. Novak, I have something to show you.” Dr. Gold insisted as he stuck his head into the waiting room. He waved her into his office.

  She walked in slowly and saw Henry sitting and staring.

  “See this. It’s a metronome. I used it on my last patient, right before Henry’s appointment. It was sitting on the coffee table, and I was about to put it away. For no particular reason, I fiddled with it, and Henry reacted.” Dr. Gold handed her the colorful, hand-painted metronome. She used one when she was a little girl during piano lessons. They were helpful in keeping the timing of a song.

  “This is an old one. It has the ticking hand that goes side to side. They are now made much differently, without the hand,” she said.

  “I know, but I like the ticking sound this one makes and the visual stimulation of the wand or hand going side to side. Anyway, I wound it up and set it in front of Henry. His eyes watched the hand go back and forth.”

  “And the significance of this is…”

  “As of this moment, I’m moving away from EMDR and concentrating on hypnotherapy. Now watch him.” Dr. Gold increased the timing of the metronome. Henry’s eyes followed every movement of the wand and he began to sigh.

  “Did you hear that?” Jessica said.