Carolina Conjuring

by Alison Claire

  “She’ll find them. If they’re on this plane, she’ll find them,” Darla assured us.

  “Those awful creatures are gone?” I asked.

  “If they’re not, let me at them,” Briar said. “It would feel fantastic to blow off some steam right now.”

  We proceeded cautiously down the back staircase, but the house was silent. The magnificent library was almost completely destroyed. We walked around in stunned silence surveying the damage.

  ‘Hey, Jo, look what survived,” Briar walked over to our sister Belle carrying the copy of Frankenstein we’d been admiring together, what seemed like six days ago, but which was only a few hours in the past.

  “Thank you, Briar,” Josephine replied, smiling sheepishly and clutching the small book to her chest.

  We exited the ruins of the library and walked across and into the kitchen. It was in a similar state to the library. The huge refrigerator was on its side, contents strewn across the floor, and a broken pipe beneath the smaller of two sinks had been flooding the room for what looked like hours. The kitchen was a shambles and under a rising few inches of water.

  Calista waved her hand and the pipe clamped itself shut.

  “When Chantelle sees this mess, I’d hate to be in Ezekiel Walker’s shoes,” Dr. Ibis remarked. I couldn’t help but agree.

  28 Ezekiel

  Young Ezekiel grew accustomed to life on Bluebill Plantation. There was still work to be done, crops to be harvested and livestock to be raise, but the work was divided fairly and plenty of time was left for rest, relaxation, and developing his new gifts.

  Ella Mae Dixon worked with Ezekiel each day to explore the extent and limits of his abilities. She tried to school him in root work, but he showed little interest. As his confidence grew, he saw no need for what he considered “props,” the goofer dust and other tools of a root doctor’s trade.

  Ezekiel came to find out that if he and the others stayed within the confines of Bluebill Plantation, they were invisible to the outside world. He didn’t know what outsiders saw or experienced when they visited the area, but more than once white men, sometimes in military uniforms, others just hunters, trappers, or fishermen, would walk right through the yard, completely oblivious to the bustling community around them. Only when they had dogs with them was there anything to fear. More than once, dogs would paw the ground, whimpering and whining, in Ezekiel’s vicinity. They knew something was there, but not exactly what.

  Over time, word came that the Walker Plantation had been sold to the owners of the neighboring Wellington Farm, although they’d had difficulty finding any white men to work what was considered “cursed” or “haunted” land. Ella Mae escorted Ezekiel back to see it and they discovered virtually every structure had been repainted haint blue.

  Ezekiel awoke with a start one night to find someone sitting on his bed.

  “Who’s there?” He called out in the darkness. The moonlight illuminated a silhouette, but little else.

  “You’ve forgotten me already, Ezekiel?”

  He sprung up out of bed at hearing his sister Aleta’s voice.

  “Aleta? Is Momma here, too?”

  “No, just me. And I’m not really here, I’m just visiting. How are you?”

  “I’ve missed you so much,” Ezekiel cried out, and he went to hug his sister, but wound up crashing to the floor instead, when his body went right through her astral form.

  Aleta snickered. “I’m sorry, but I tried to warn you.”

  Ezekiel rubbed his chin and looked confused. “Are you a ghost?”

  “Not exactly. I’m alive and well. I’ve learned to… well, to do certain things. Like magic. I’m projecting myself to you now.”

  “Where are you? Your body I mean?”

  “I live in Charleston. In a big, beautiful house, with some other girls who can also do… magic. A Ms. Virginia Embers. And my sisters, Calista and Zillah. I’ve been watching you. I’m glad you’re well, but Ezekiel, you’ve done some things that…”

  Aleta’s voice trailed away.

  “What do you mean?”

  “At the Walker Plantation. What you dd there.”

  Ezekiel was quiet and recalled his spree of death and destruction.

  “I did what I had to do. I’m not sorry.”

  “You didn’t have to do that. That was just as evil as anything the Walkers ever did.”

  “They deserved every moment of pain and every drop of blood. And more. Ms. Ella Mae is training me. Once I’ve mastered my abilities, so many more people are going to pay.” Ezekiel’s anger grew, and his voice shook.

  “Ezekiel, this isn’t what Momma would want. She never taught revenge. She raised you to love.”

  “That might work for her. It doesn’t work for me. They all gon’ suffer. Mark my words.”

  “Who? Who’s going to suffer? And what is more suffering going to prove?

  “Do you think we were given these gifts to inflict misery? Or to help people?”

  “Nobody ever helped us. I don’t owe anybody a damn thing. And the people I do owe, I intend to pay back. With pain.”

  “Ezekiel, let me bring you to Charleston. To Ms. Virginia’s house. She will show you a better way, I promise.”

  “She bought you and Momma at auction, right? That tells me all I need to know about Ms. Virginia.

  Aleta tried to protest. “It wasn’t like that. She did it to save us. Ezekiel, please!”

  “Go away, Aleta. Can’t believe you’d turn your back on your own people. On your own brother. You’re no better than them.”

  Aleta began to speak but reconsidered and vanished from Ezekiel’s presence.

  At morning’s first light, Ezekiel’s anger hadn’t subsided, to the contrary he was more furious than ever.

  He left Bluebill Plantation without word to anyone, piloting a small boat telekinetically, bound for Charleston.

  Fishermen were shocked to see a lone black man in a small boat in Charleston Harbor, with no apparent means of propulsion. It was a virtually windless day, not that the boat had sails, anyway. Yet it sliced through the water toward the battery at a speed unmatched by anything in the water.

  When he was within sight of the Battery, Ezekiel abandoned the boat and levitated himself up onto the street. People scattered upon his arrival.

  He matched purposefully to the first man in uniform he saw, a constable.

  “Where is the Embers house? Tell me quickly and it may save your life.”

  The man looked around in shock. “Where are you supposed to be?” He asked Ezekiel. “Who brought you to town?”

  “Last chance. Embers.”

  Two peace officers, alerted by the stampede away from the water, came running toward Ezekiel. “Stop right there! Put your hands in the air!” They ordered.

  Ezekiel waved his hand and both men flew out over the harbor and landed with a splash.

  The constable moved his mouth but produced no sounds. He pointed down Church Street.

  Ezekiel bound the man with telekinetic rope and lifted him off the ground. The two of them proceeded down Church almost to Atlantic until the man began to squirm and grunt, indicating they’d arrived at the home of Virginia Embers.

  Having no more use for the constable, Ezekiel sent him flying back in the direction of the water. Curious passersby gave him a wide berth.

  Ezekiel approached the stone steps leading to the grand entryway to Virginia Embers’ home, intending to tear the front doors from their hinges in a display of his power.

  Instead, the doors opened before he could act, and three women stepped out onto the porch.

  An elegant woman with dark hair, flanked by two younger girls – one a breathtaking brunette and the other a stunning blonde with hair the color of salt.

  The woman in the middle spoke first. “Ezekiel Walker, you’re attracting a great deal of attention with your performance today, none if it positive. I urge you in the strongest possible terms to return to Bluebill Plantation at once, lest
you place us all in jeopardy.”

  Ezekiel was placed immediately on the defensive. He hadn’t expected to be caught off-guard, and once he’d lost the element of surprise, he had no plan B. He tried to lift a nearby carriage and send it crashing into the Embers house, but nothing happened.

  He redoubled his efforts to use his powers to intimidate Virginia Embers, but his gifts had seemingly abandoned him at the most inopportune time.

  “I’m taking my momma and my sister with me, you hear?” He blustered. A crowd was beginning to gather.

  “They’re free to leave. No one is here against her will,” Virginia explained. Aleta and Abigail Indigo joined Virginia on the porch.

  Ezekiel nearly fainted from shock.

  “Ezekiel, I know what you did,” his mother called out. “The good Lord will forgive you, but you have to want to be saved. I didn’t raise a monster, I raised a young man.”

  The stalemate was interrupted by a unit from the local army garrison. Well-armed, uniformed men took up positions on Atlantic Street, a stone’s throw from the Embers house.

  They advanced slowly, weapons trained on Ezekiel.

  “Stay right where you are,” commanded the man in charge of the soldiers. “Ms. Virginia, are you alright?”

  “Quite alright, Captain Drayton. Our guest was just leaving. Zillah, can you help guide Ezekiel home please?”

  The girl with the white hair stepped away from Virginia Embers and promptly vanished. She appeared directly at Ezekiel’s elbow, where the startled young man offered no resistance as Zillah led him into a nearby shadow and then back to the edge of Bluebill Plantation, all in the blink of an eye. When a disoriented Ezekiel turned to look for the girl, she was gone.

  By the time Zillah returned to the porch on Church St., a clearly-smitten Captain Ellis Drayton was deep in conversation with Virginia Embers.

  “So, yes, thank you for coming to our rescue, Captain. You appear to have frightened him away.”

  “Fan out, two by two, and begin a search of the area. Four men will stay here at the Embers house as sentries,” the captain commanded.

  “Strange things have been happening, Ms. Embers. Witnesses say that the man we’re seeking was seen floating through the air down by the water, and that he discarded two peace officers into the harbor with a wave of his hand.

  “These aren’t drunks who gave this testimony, mind you. One of them was Reverend Mays.”

  Virginia stepped forward, near enough to Captain Drayton that he could smell her hair. He was the one who felt intoxicated now. “Captain, I wouldn’t know anything about that, but it sounds like witchcraft to me, and it wasn’t all that long ago that witches were being burned at the stake by Yankees up in Massachusetts. My girls and I certainly wouldn’t want any of that sort of trouble.”

  “No Ma’am, of course not. Although just between you and I, those Yankees you referred to, and forgive me,” Drayton spit over the side of the porch, “that word just tastes so awful in my mouth. There may be trouble looming with them anyway, witchcraft or no. My men and I will do our best to see to the safety of this house through any troubles, you can rest assured.”

  “Of that, I have no doubt.” Virginia gave Captain Drayton her fairest smile and ushered her girls back inside.

  Back on Frogmore, Ella Mae Dixon stomped across the lawn to where Ezekiel stood.

  “What’s gotten into you, Ezekiel? Are you trying to get yourself killed? Or, worse yet, have us discovered?

  “I’ve done everything I can to help you get accepted here. You have friends, but more than that the people here fear you. There’s a war coming. Some of our conjure women have foretold it, they’ve even seen it. And we’ll be tested, we may even lose this place.

  “Can I trust you to do what I command, no matter if its what you’d choose or what you think it right? If I can’t, there are those here who would see you banished.”

  Ezekiel felt betrayed by everyone. His own flesh and blood choosing that vile Embers woman over him, and now Ella Mae and the rest of those on Bluebill Plantation doubting his loyalties questioning his motives.

  “Maybe you’re right,” Ezekiel conceded. “He walked across the lawn and into the main house, marching directly to where he knew he’d find Dr. Bluebill, the patriarch, namesake, and man responsible for the ongoing illusion that kept Bluebill Plantation hidden from the outside world.

  Despite his advanced age, Dr Bluebill was a formidable conjure man whose magical defenses were virtually impenetrable. What he’d never see coming, however, was a surprise physical attack.

  “Hello, Ezekiel,” Dr. Bluebill greeted the young man warmly. “What can I do for you?”

  “Remove the roots that keep us hidden from the world. Let our people live again.”

  Dr. Bluebill looked at Ezekiel as if he was missing the punchline to a bad joke. After none was forthcoming, the old root doctor laughed heartily. “I’ve never understood the younger generation’s sense of humor. What really brings you here today?”

  “I gave you your chance. When you cross the water say hello to my brother Emanuel for me.” With that, Ezekiel produced a small knife and before Dr. Bluebill could react, he sprung across the older man’s desk and slit his throat.

  Thunder cracked across the sunny, cloudless sky and Frogmore Island shook violently.

  Ezekiel discarded his blade and walked confidently back across the lawn. The residents of Bluebill Plantation were in a frenzy; they knew something awful had happened. Some of them could feel the doctor’s death instantaneously.

  Ella Mae Dixon chased after her protégé. “Ezekiel! Ezekiel! You’ve done something, haven’t you? What have you done? Stop!”

  “Ella Mae, you’re right. Troubles are coming. And sooner than you think. I’ve just put Bluebill Plantation back on the map. On the white man’s map. Get ready to fight.”

  With that, Ezekiel Walker exploded into flight, ascending toward the clouds, his destination a place he’d only recently learned about from conversations he’d had at Bluebill – a place where the blackest magic could be found. A place he knew only as New Awlins.

  Ella Mae Dixon stood in shock, scanning the skies for Ezekiel.

  A man approached her from behind. “Ms. Ella Mae, there’s work to be done. It won’t be long until we’re found out.”

  “Is there anything you can do to conceal us?” Ella Mae asked hopefully.

  “Myself, certainly. A handful of others, maybe. But the entire plantation? And all these people? No, not me. I’m sorry, such root work is beyond me.”

  “We’ll find a way, Dr. Ibis. We’re survivors. Come hell, high water, or every white man in South Carolina with a pitchfork or pistol, we’ll survive.”

  Ella Mae Dixon’s words came partially true. With the coming of The War to Charleston, her people scattered into the swamp and Sea Islands, survivors reconvening at an abandoned property she rechristened Dixon Plantation.

  Twenty years following the Civil War, she gave birth to a daughter – the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter – during a hurricane so intense it submerged their island home. With nowhere else to go, Ella Mae Dixon relocated her family, including infant daughter Marie, back to what remained of Bluebill Plantation, where illness claimed Ella Mae after only a year.

  Ezekiel Walker became something of a mythic figure at Dixon Plantation. The number of people who’d actually met him dwindled, but the younger generations, including Marie Dixon and her cousins, Dalton and Devonnaire, twin sons of Ella Mae’s youngest sister, came to think of Ezekiel as a sort of boogeyman – an indescribably powerful and equally wicked man who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.

  By the time Ezekiel made his return to the Lowcountry, decades later, Marie and the twins had risen to positions of prominence and power, and they formed uneasy alliances with a man they’d been raised never to trust.

  29 Briar

  The damage to the house was considerable, but we couldn’t dawdle and hope to get repairs started. W
e needed to find Virginia and Aleta and hope they weren’t beyond being rescued.

  We stood in the courtyard, the six of us, mulling our options as we waited to hear from Darla’s daughter. The pool, off to our left, contained a multitude of floating zombified animal remains.

  “If they could find, and enter, this house, what about Montagu?” Emma asked.

  Calista looked stunned, as if the possibility was too absurd to even consider. “There’s no chance they could…” she began.

  “There’s every chance,” Emma interrupted. “If this house could be breached, which, clearly, look around, then what’s to stop the same from happening there?”

  “The wards are different,” Josephine explained. “But still, if all we’re doing is waiting around, wouldn’t it be worth checking?”

  “Darla, can you take us?” I asked.

  “I’m afraid not, sugarplum. I’m a bit drained. Gauche for a Belle, but I’m afraid somebody is going to have to drive.”

  It was a short walk to the garage, where we found the luxury Embers fleet had been disabled. Every tire had been flattened.

  “I only hope Virginia will forgive me for the inevitable scandal, but somebody is going to have to take an Uber to Montagu,” Darla announced as she brought up the app on her phone.

  “We’ll go,” I volunteered, taking Emma by the arm.

  Moments later, a powder blue Dodge Caravan arrived to transport us to Montagu. Reluctantly, Calista joined us. She looked disgusted at our mode of transportation and she sat down gingerly, as if she might catch something, despite the van being spotlessly clean and smelling like a fresh shot of Febreeze.

  Within moments, the three of us disembarked at the Montagu house, despite warnings from our kindly driver, Fred, that the neighborhood wasn’t safe for “three unescorted young ladies.”