“Marcie, we all need a teacher when we’re learning how to channel the spirits and talking to the other side. You can’t do it alone. That’s how you end up targeted by darkness. And you were an easy target, swept up in the lies of a predator. He had you right where he wanted. The only way to break his hold was to give you a taste of freedom. And you got it when you hit your head.”
Shame warmed her face. And she knew that wasn’t the old woman’s intent. Tears spilled and dripped onto her lap. “You need to tell Sam everything.”
“I can’t.”
“You need to tell him. You need to trust him and have enough faith in him, or there’ll be no change.”
Mama said nothing more. But leaned back and rocked. She raised her bony hand at the pictures behind her where Marcie saw the dark teenage boy with dreadlocks. A shiver slid up her spine when she looked at his eyes. Eyes that held secrets, along with hurt, anger and greed appearing to slither down into nothingness. She knew those lost eyes were the same plastered on wanted posters, filled with darkness, exposing a dangerous thug, someone not to be trusted.
“That’s Leon, my grandson. That was taken the year Katrina ripped through. He was lost to us then. We saw it. His mama did too. And my son, well—he did poorly by that boy’s mama. He’s still out there wandering, just another lost angry black man, trying to find his way. He could see nothing, let alone the gift God gave him. Enough.” She swept her hand out in front of her face.
Marcie saw regret, Mama’s loss with her son and grandson.
“Della, that’s her up there at the top with a lively spark. Leon was five in that picture. He had hope then, until the city got hold of him. And Elise killed him.”
“You afraid to ask what your part is?”
Caught off guard, Marcie jerked her head back to Mama.
“It’s time to pay the piper girl. Your friends brought the drugs. Leon worked for your guy down here, the same one you were delivering too.”
“Mama, I didn’t know the guy. This is the first time I’ve carried marijuana.”
“Maybe so, but your man’s been grooming you for this. He has plans for you.”
Hot color flamed her cheeks. Her mouth dropped open, unable to hammer down the betrayal she felt at this moment. “He’s been grooming me? He told me…” She couldn’t finish. Her voice broke when a horrible ache ripped through her heart.
“He told you all kinds of things. But they were always lies, lies and more lies. Deep down you already know this.”
“When you throw a stone in the water, your actions cast off a whole chain of events. Remember whatever you do, always do it out of love and harm none.”
“Elise killed Leon. I heard Jesse say she was a dirty cop and shooting Leon may not have been justifiable.”
“Elise was always a troubled girl. She fit in good with many of the dirty cops around here.” Mama’s mouth grimaced bitterly.
She never broke rhythm as she rocked in her old wooden chair, back and forth. “You’d best call Sam in.”
Her rubbery legs trembled. Marcie gripped the back of her chair, pausing a moment to gather strength, before doing the old woman’s bidding. She pressed open the squeaky door.
Sam leaned against the rail at the bottom of the stairs, smoking a cigarette. He flicked the butt in the dirt, exhaling, their eyes met. When did he start smoking? There were many secrets between them. “She wants you to come in.”
He started up, one by one. His heavy footsteps rattled the unsteady stairs. He froze in front of her, studying her with such an odd expression. He stepped inside and searched out his dead wife’s photo. But Marcie couldn’t make sense of what he was feeling.
“Her memory’s returned.” Mama raised her chin when she spoke to Sam.
And Sam, swiveled his head around so fast, with a look so caustic, it burned into Marcie.
“Why didn’t you let me tell him first?”
“Don’t you get prissy now, girl.”
“Mama, did Jesse stop here, tell you about Marcie losing her memory?”
“I saw the boy, but I knowed she was a coming. Spirit told me.” She flicked her aged, spotted hand at Marcie. “You find the letters?”
Beads of icy perspiration erupted down her back, at exactly the same moment goose bumps spiked her tender skin. Marcie swallowed unable to speak.
“What letters?” Sam was genuinely confused.
Mama grinned, a crooked smile showing her aged chipped teeth. “Why boy, the ones in your attic your girl here found. She was supposed to find them.”
The cryptic messages were beginning to unnerve Sam, Marcie too. He paced back and forth in front of the door. His hands shoved roughly through his damp wavy hair, leaving his hair sticking up in clumps. “What kind of bullshit are you selling me?”
“You watch your mouth, boy. You ain’t too big to get your mouth washed out with soap.”
Marcie gaped at the mental image conjured up of Mama washing out the tough guy’s mouth.
The scowl on Sam’s face was priceless. “Crazy old woman,” he muttered.
“Pay him no mind. Did you read the letters child?”
The stifling emotions in this room scraped like claws in her stomach. “It broke my heart. They framed him, and they killed him.”
“Oh no girl, you didn’t read all of them or you’d know. Old Jerome lingered a long while, rotting in the Cabildo. He was set up, same as Sam. By the same dark entities close to him. They can be a friend, family or acquaintance, and they know what they’re doing. They’ve one agenda. To destroy you, and I know you know this.” She pointed to Sam, and he frowned.
“Old woman you’re making no sense, what happened to that guy was over 150 years ago. It’s nothing to do with now. You’re confused.”
“Oh! I don’t think so, boy. Everything has to do with now. You don’t know how the universe works. Jerome was your great, great, great granddaddy. But he’s Marcie’s guide now. Sit on down here.” Mama stilled. Her face softened as she tilted her head.
“Mama?”
She didn’t answer for the longest time. She stared through Marcie, nodding, completely pulled into whatever spirit surrounded her.
“Hmm.” Then she blinked. “Jerome’s with you now. Behind you, he wants you to know his story, what happened to him.”
“He was a Lieutenant under that old pirate, Lafitte. He made his home on Grande Isle. He was right hand to Jean and Pierre. They flew the flag of Cartagena, attacking as many Spanish ships as possible. The ships they raped at sea were mostly Spanish ships. They harvested boundless booty, furniture, clothing, the latest silks, crinolines, dinnerware, wines, cheeses and medicines, even slaves.”
“Jerome was independent and loyal to Jean, even when Jean established his Village of Lafitte on Grand Terre. Jerome stayed on Grand Isle. His beautiful wife, Isabel, waited for him in the home he built. Jerome maintained he was a privateer like Jean. But unlike the others, he kept his independence. Jerome chose when to join one of Jean’s raids. Jerome didn’t trust everyone. Most of the crew were simple fishermen. There were a few who did whatever it took to get close to Jean. Jerome was smart and kept an eye out.
When the British paid a visit to Lafitte to bribe him into betraying the US government, Jean refused. And dispatched two missives one to the governor. The other to Andrew Jackson. Instead of accepting his help, they attacked him on his island in Grand Terre.”
“Of course Jean and his people scrambled and regrouped on the last island on Bayou Lafourche, sixty miles west of the temple. Those close to him warned him of a traitor among them. When suspicion was pointed at Jerome, his quarters were searched onboard his Ladybird, and a missive was found detailing to the US where Jean Lafitte and his crew could be found. What dammed him was the detailed letter of Jean’s hideaways.”
“Jerome, of course, denied this, but Jean was too angry; he wouldn’t listen. And everyone who knew Jean understood his laws were strict. In anger, he sentenced Jerome to hang. Only Jerome didn’t
. Instead, while locked away in the hold, one of his lieutenants got him out.”
“But it was a trick. The lieutenant was the traitor. And he turned Jerome over into the hands of a bounty hunter.”
“Jerome woke up in the Cabildo. The price on his head collected, and he was left to rot. He never did get out, but he guided you to those letters. And he came in your dreams. He’s one of your guides, Marcie.”
“Your teacher asked the universe for help for you. And he’s been sent. He put you in Sam’s path. Because you two are supposed to be together. The one who betrayed you and him is the same enemy. It’s time for justice to be served. This enemy has come back in a different skin. It’s not a person, and it doesn’t go to the same place you and I go when we're done here on this earth. He’s after you now, Sam. It’s your turn. The sins of the father, and he’s gone after each generation of Jerome’s. Only Jerome never knew why he did it. Darkness doesn’t need a reason. The only way for a dark entity to grow stronger and survive is to destroy anything good. You need to bring his hold, his power, to an end. Your girl there knows him too.”
Mama rested her head against the high back rocker, humming Amazing Grace. “It’s about a repented slave catcher; he wrote it. He found religion. He saw the light.”
Marcie looked up at Sam. Still mesmerized by the woman’s voice, her speech, how it changed. Did Sam hear it too? She noticed how he stiffened his jaw.
“Who’s this dark entity—this person you’re talking about?”
She smiled wide, exposing three missing teeth.
“Go back up north, where you both came from. You already know him without me telling you, Marcie, your guy. And don’t forget he’s smart. He knows things—he knows how to manipulate magic for his benefit. Protect yourself, both of you.”
“And Sam, best watch your back when you return. And ask yourself what you walked away from. Something found on you, planted. And remember when you go back and meet up with the darkness, and you will, it flows in the blood, except, it’s still a choice. You always have a choice.”
“You make no sense old woman, all your carrying on.”
Marcie shivered, feeling a slithering reptilian darkness surround her, knowing it attached to those who sought out that vile hatred. A dark image of her dysfunctional family surfaced—her mother, father, brother. Sometimes darkness soared like poison down through the line.
“Don’t you fear those hooks thrown at you. If you feed fear, you give it power. I know you know this, girl. You make sure he listens; that’s why you’re here.” She pointed her finger at Marcie.
“Don’t be ashamed, what’s done is done. You need to start trusting the voice inside yourself. Bring back hope and faith. Keep those ugly cords from him cut.. You and I both know who I’m talking about.”
Dan.
“Heal those holes inside you and bring back the innocence stripped away. Go back to your lessons, to your teacher.”
“Remember something, piracy’s still piracy. It’s not much different what Jerome did then, to what you did too. Everything happens for a reason. You’re right in the middle of a battle. You chose to be one of the players, Marcie and to go with that guy—to do his bidding until Jerome stepped in. Stay strong and do not allow his hooks back into you. That tall man, the one you thought you had. He’s not of this world. There’s nothing right about him. The light doesn’t touch him, and his darkness would have killed you. He still may. You need to watch your back. He got Jerome, and Sam’s next. You best get on and look after your man. He knows, even if he won’t say. He knows.”
This made no sense, but anxiety kneaded every part of her. Dan was just a man—a man she fell head over heels in love with. How could he be connected to Jerome—to Sam?
She closed her eyes to block out Dan’s image. He was poison to her peace of mind.
Mama started humming again, staring right through Marcie. Nausea rumbled again. She had enough and needed air. She stumbled across the plank floor and braced her hand against the doorframe, assaulted by a burning wave of dizziness. The bile churned in her stomach. Sam’s hand pressed awkwardly against her back. Marcie pushed the screen door and hurried down the stairs, vomiting in the dirt.
Sam hovered beside her, lifting her hair back from her face, while she gagged and shook. Her throat burned. Her eyes watered and her knees were weak.
“I’ll get you some water.” She had no energy to reply, let alone look up. Sam helped her sit on the bottom step. She rested her head against the railing. The air stirred when he hurried back up the shaky steps. Marcie trembled even though beads of sweat rolled down her back. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and sleep. Except she couldn’t, because dread rose out of this unknown, of what was still to come, and the truth she needed to share.
Chapter Fifteen
“So, do you mind telling me about your long lost memory, oh yeah, and how about when you planned to tell me?”
Marcie placed the empty glass on the weathered stair beside her, letting out a heavy sigh. “When we pulled in here, you ignored me in the most hurtful way, as if I was of no importance. And what it did was open a door up here.” She tapped her finger on her head. “And I started to remember every bad, vile, disgusting thing in my life, and what I did.”
He crossed his arms and leaned back against the narrow handrail.
“You may wish you never met me, and I expect you’ll turn your back on me once you know what I’ve done.”
She looked down at her trembling pale hands. “It’s not a bad drug. Everyone smoked the stuff in high school. That’s what I told myself. We grow the best in the Pacific Northwest, high-grade marijuana.” He didn’t laugh at her flippant remark. Instead, he covered his hands over his face and scrubbed them over his five o'clock shadow.
“I’m sorry, Sam.”
He dropped his hands. His gaze smoldered with disgust. As if this was the first time he truly saw her. She hurt everywhere. But kept going, Sam deserved better.
“Dan was our leader. I think I did it because I fell in love with him. I didn’t search it out, nor would I ever do this myself. It’s not who I am.”
“Right after Granny died, I met Dan at one of the local farmer’s markets. I hadn’t seen him since high school. He took me out and came to visit me. We clicked. He listened to me while I mourned. He understood me in a way no one else could. He shared my same love of earth-based spirituality. He said he got vibes too, just like me. But it was something more about him, this powerful charm. The air buzzed with electricity anytime he was around. And when he wasn’t…” She shut her eyes; she couldn’t finish.
Her voice weakened when she spoke again. “Then one day he showed me his pot plants, the one’s he grew for friends. There weren’t that many. Next, I was watering them because he forgot, or didn’t have time. I never stopped to think how he slid me in there. All of a sudden, I watered all the time. I became the sitter. Dan became busy with other things. And I started to worry he’d leave me. I told myself if I did this for him, maybe he’d love me just a little—maybe he’d spend more time with me—maybe this would make him so happy he’d finally commit to me. Then I thought I could change him. After all, what he was doing wasn’t so bad.”
He studied her with such horror she thought he’d leave her sitting on the rickety step and drive away.
“But make no mistake Sam, I chose to follow him. Mama was right, no matter what. It’s always your choice. I was obsessed with loving him. So much, I’d do anything for him. Isn’t that what you do for someone you love?”
“Marcie…” She could tell he didn’t want to hear this.
“Sam, stop. Please let me finish. So you can understand every bad horrible thing about me and why I did it.”
He rested one foot on the stair above her, circling his hand in the air for her to continue. “By all means, Marcie. Oh, but first, what’s your real name?” He was angry and hurt and any whisper of trust that existed between them was now destroyed.
“My
name is Marcienda Dawn Hollis, Marcie for short.” A hint of peace followed, even with the burden of what she’d done.
“We grew pot. Do you want the exact type, all those gory details? Why not? The last batch was northern lights.” She didn’t wait for him to reply. “Doesn’t matter does it? But it was just marijuana.”
“Okay stop right there Marcie, growing contraband for distribution and trafficking is a major criminal offense. You’re a drug dealer! And what I do is put people like you in prison.”
“Sam, I’m not a drug dealer. We grew marijuana for friends. It’s just weed, Sam. It’s not a bad drug…” She felt the wind go out of her sails as Dan’s own soapbox came out of her mouth. What’s the big deal Marcie, it’s just weed? “You’re right Sam, I was a drug dealer. Dan moved me to his property where he had the plants in an old wood shed. And that’s where it started. I looked after the weed he grew for himself and friends. And yes, they paid him. I got a cut for babysitting. Dan’s a very good teacher. He actually did nothing after he taught me how to grow and cultivate. But that’s what he does. He’s a busy man, building houses. This is just a sideline. He’d tell me what to do, and I took all the risk, willingly. He always had a scheme or big idea to make money. And I hung on every word and idea, loving him. Doing anything I could for him.” Not everything.
“Then he wanted to go bigger. He said there’d be a big payoff. And I followed. I set up all the outdoor gardens. Found isolated, well-hidden spots near a good water source. It’s been a long hot summer, almost as if he knew it would be. We have thirty gardens, and last I checked we only lost three, someone cleared out.” Gritty degradation swept over her. Could she see through the mirage now? Yes.
“Marketing’s done by a friend of Dan’s; her name’s Sandra.” Even repeating her name filled her mouth with bitters and an acidic aftertaste.
“There’s something about her I hate. Dan would defend her. She had contacts, but then she grew up in a family of professional growers outside Sequim. She knew the buyers, and I didn’t. And you know what, Sam? Right now, I’m grateful for that. Sandra’s really good with drugs. It came natural to her. She had indoor grow shows of her own. She has a nasty, mean streak, except with Dan. To him, she’s sweet as pie. She’d lie, cheat and steal from her own sister, but never in front of Dan. Why’s that, Sam?”
The Choice Page 12