The Juju Girl

by Nikki Marsh

  Auntie offered several hypotheses for the situation. Emilie hadn't eaten all day, her mouth was dry, she may have been overly nervous, or she might even be coming down with something. I realized what Julian told me about Auntie promoting a union between Stefan and Emilie was true. She didn't want Stefan to give up on her.

  Felicie made a point of lingering in the dining room as long as possible on the pretense of tidying up the buffet, refilling the platters, or removing dirty dishes. She wanted to hear the details of what I had done to Emilie..

  I knew I would have to answer to her and to Miss Marie. I dreaded it.

  Chapter Eleven

  A Turn for the Worse

  I promised to fill Brigitte in on the details of the ball. After breakfast, I made my way to our room, but my heart stopped when I saw the spirit, a faceless woman, leaving the room. This time terror didn't strike. I lunged at her, trying to grab something that was not there. She vanished as soon as I touched her.

  I took a deep breath before I entered the room and prepared for the worse. Brigitte's eyes were open, and she fixed them on me as soon as I entered. I straighten her disheveled covers and pulled them up around her. She grabbed my hand and asked me to recite the 23rd Psalm with her, the prayer Maman and I recited every night in Buras "to keep the bad things away." The same prayer we said at Julian's mother's grave. Considering what I just witnessed, I decided this would be a good time to pray. I held her hand as we recited it together.

  The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

  He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.

  He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

  Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

  Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

  Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Psalms 23

  When we finished, she closed her eyes, and I thought she had died. I shook her, shouting her name. She moaned a little, opened her eyes, and then shut them again. I screamed.

  Dr. La Forest arrived a short while later and pronounced he had done all he could. He found no physical illness to explain her worsening condition. After he left, I stayed with Brigitte, but I heard Auntie and Uncle Phonse arguing downstairs.

  "I am at my wits end, Phonse. Every doctor has looked at her. You must see how useless they are. Dr. La Forrest is the best doctor in New Orleans, and he just admitted there is nothing he can do. I tell you her sickness isn't of the body. If it were, wouldn't she be better by now? No, someone from another world is trying to kill her."

  "You're talking crazy now, Lucinda."

  "Well, maybe I am. Maybe I've always been crazy. But, if doctors can't cure her, I have to try something else."

  "I don't hold with no magic conjure doctors and such. Using them is tempting God, Lucinda. Remember the scripture.

  Do not turn to mediums or necromancers; do not seek them out, and so make yourselves unclean by them: I am the Lord your God.' Leviticus 19:31.”

  "Are you going to stand there, quote scriptures, and let Brigitte die?" she demanded. "Not me. No. I will make myself unclean if it means my daughter will live."

  "If it's God's will, Lucinda, she will live, and I pray it is. If it isn't, she won't, and there is nothing we can do about it."

  "You mean there's nothing YOU can do about it. You may not want to interfere with God's will, but what is God's will? The spiritually powerful can thwart His will when they must."

  Uncle Phonse's bellowed, "Stop! That is blasphemy, and it will bring destruction down on this house!"

  "Believe what you will. But know this: I have already thwarted His will, and I will do it again to protect those I love."

  "What do you mean? When have you ever thwarted His will?"

  Auntie ignored his question and continued her rant.

  "I mean exactly what I said. If you don't want to be in the presence of the spiritually powerful, it's all right with me. Leave now because a powerful man is on his way. There's no room for non-believers here. Go to church and pray to God if that makes you feel better."

  The door slammed, followed by Auntie's plaintive wails.

  ✽✽✽

  In the early evening, a bald-headed old man whose dark, leathery skin reminded me of a reptile, joined the family. His wrinkled face housed deep-set eyes sheltered by bushy white eyebrows. Though time had bent his back, he walked unaided by a cane. A hooded white robe with a wide red and gold belt draped his frail body. Several metal talismans with mystical symbols weighed down his neck. They contained the knowledge of his ancestors.Popá Jean had arrived.

  Conjurer doctors, like Popá Jean, were healers. They relied on the same natural elements as Miss Marie and Pisatuntema. But the higher Spiritual Arts exceeded their power. They called on the spirits of their ancestors for physical healing, but they were powerless against evil spirits. The malevolent spirit haunting Brigitte meant to harm her. I hoped I was wrong.

  To prepare for his ceremony, Popá Jean instructed Auntie to darken Brigitte's room, leaving only one white candle burning. A small table served as his altar. He told Auntie there must be seven people in the room, including Brigitte and him. She enlisted Stefan, Felicie, Beau, and me. Counting Auntie, that made seven. Maman wanted no part of it.

  Popá Jean laid a purple altar cloth on the table. He placed a small washbasin, branches of herbs, bottles of holy water, candles, and other ingredients on it. When he was ready, he lit a jar of pungent incense and filled the basin with two types of holy water. He wet a bundle of herbs with it and sprinkled it over Brigitte to purify her and prepare her for healing. After the purification, he approached the altar to mix a special powder. He used his thumb to press some of it on Brigitte's forehead. He returned to the altar, knelt on one knee, and asked us to do the same. He chanted in a strange tongue. When he finished, he gestured for us to rise, informing us that the spirits of his ancestors were now present. I looked around for some sign of them, but I saw none. My heart sank. I wanted this to work.

  After more chanting, kneeling, and praying, he lifted Brigitte with the help of Beau. He instructed us to hold hands and form a circle around them. He lifted her from the bed and turned around three times in one direction and three times in the other. When he finished, he laid her back on the bed and lit a purple, red, and white candle, passing each over Brigitte's almost lifeless body. He ended the ceremony with scripture.

  O Lord my God, I cried unto thee, and thou hast healed me. Psalm 30:2

  He left shortly after the ceremony, telling Auntie we would have to wait and see.

  That night, we kept a vigil at Brigitte bedside. Uncle Phonse joined us when he returned home from church, and he brought Julian with him. We all stayed with Brigitte that night. Her condition did not change, but it didn't get worse either. I held onto hope. I wished I could do something.

  Early in the morning, I went to the kitchen. I had hardly eaten anything the day before, and I was famished. I had avoided Felicie as long as I could. I waited for her to speak.

  "How is Missy Brigitte? I sure hope that conjure man helped 'cause that dog down the street started howling last night, and he ain't stopped yet." Felicie took this as a sign of death.

  "Then, I hope it's howling for somebody else. I'm not sure if Popá Jean helped at all. She still hasn't stirred, and Auntie stayed by her side all night."

  "Lordy, Lordy. I'm so sorry to hear that. Them conjure doctors get it right sometimes. I've seen it with my own eyes. But sometimes, no matter how much they know 'bout healin', it don't work. Don't know why, but that's the truth."

  This gave me an opportunity to bring up what she saw under my pillow.

  "I guess conjure and spells don't always work the way we
want them to. Even when they do, they might be hard to control."

  "What you talkin' 'bout now? You talkin' 'bout the conjure doctor or you talkin’ 'bout somethin' else?"

  I didn't want to admit what I had done. If I did, she would tell Neni, but I decided to tell her the truth. I suspected I would need all the power I could muster before too long.

  After explaining what I had done to Emilie and how bad I felt afterward, I asked if she planned to tell Neni.

  "You think I should be the one to do that, do you?"

  "I assumed you would."

  "Well, you assumed wrong. I ain't going to say a word 'bout it unless I'm asked. Ain't my place."

  For a moment, I was relieved, until she added, "I'm not tellin' nobody, but you will if you are truly sorry 'bout what you done."

  I had prepared myself for Felicie telling on me. Telling on myself was entirely different. She crossed her arms, waiting for my response.

  "Well, are you goin' to do it? You goin' to own up to what you done to that girl? 'Cause it seems to me like it's the only way to set things right."

  "What if Miss Marie stops teaching me? Do you think she might?"

  "Sure I do. And it wouldn't be the wrong thing either, 'cause it looks like you don't know what you're doin'. Can't have somebody who don't know what they doin' running around puttin' spells and curses on people, can we? That will lead to trouble of the worse kind."

  "I know that now. Even with good intentions, things can go wrong."

  "Except you didn't have no good intentions. You had it in your mind to get Stefan away from that girl, didn't you?"

  Either I had to admit I wanted Stefan for myself or tell a lie. I decided to combine my two options and tell a half truth.

  "It's not that. It's just that I didn't like the way she treated me when we first met, and everyone thinks she's so beautiful. I was plain jealous of her."

  "Um huh." She didn't believe me.

  "I hope you 'fess up to what you done as soon as you can."

  "I will." I promised.

  "The bad thing is, I didn't want to like her at all, but I liked her despite myself. What's even worse is she likes me, especially since I stayed by her side when her friends had deserted her. If she finds out what I did, it would be awful. I must find a way to make up for my wrongdoing. Do you think she would hate me if she knew the truth?"

  "I sure would. Why would she ever forgive you, especially if she's sweet on Stefan? What you have to figure out is how to undo what you did.”

  "Maybe I can find a way."

  "Maybe you could figure out a way to turn back time? Maybe you cast a forgettin’ spell? Only problem is, you'd have to find a spell that would make a whole lot of people forget. Don't think that'll be easy!"

  Her sarcasm gave me something to think about. A forgetting spell sounded good.

  Over the next few days, it became clear Brigitte would not recover. We prepared ourselves for the worst, each in our own way. Auntie, who I expected to be overcome with grief, astonished me. She ministered to her dying daughter, wiping her face, brushing her hair, holding her hand, keeping her comfortable, surrounding her with her favorite possessions, and hiding her own tears.

  At the end of the week, Uncle Phonse sent for the Catholic priest to give Brigitte the Last Rites. Auntie quietly agreed, her once staunch faith emerging as she faced the inevitable.

  I struggled to understand how the rituals of the conjure doctor and the rituals of the priest could each be true. Uncle Phonse believed in the power of the priest as much as Auntie believed in the power of the conjure doctor. Could they both be right? Could they both be wrong?

  Looking at Uncle Phonse, I grasped the enormity of the losses he had endured, his first wife and the loss of two good friends. This loss would be the greatest. For the first time, I appreciated his strength as he sat next to Brigitte, clutching a rosary in one hand, and her listless hand in the other. Stefan and I kept a vigil, making sure the fire didn’t go out and comforting each other with our memories. Julian joined us, and his heart broke all over again.

  Throughout that final night, Felicie and Neni ministered to us by bringing in sandwiches and pitchers of lemonade or coffee. Even Maman sat with us, reciting the rosary between her quiet sobs.

  Brigitte looked angelic when she quietly took her last breath shortly before dawn. Her gentle spirit comforted and strengthened us. How else could I explain Auntie's insistence that she be the one to prepare Brigitte's body for burial? Or Uncle Phonse's determination to attend to the details that would memorialize her short life? Or my resolve to find out about the shadow that haunted her to death?

  On the day of her funeral, the sun bathed the cemetery in a comforting light. The memory of my first visit there surfaced, but I was not afraid. Even when I came face to face with the ghost that haunted Brigitte, I didn’t flinch. Her presence did not surprise me, though I wondered why she was there. To witness her triumph? To pick her next victim? For a brief second, the phantom materialized into a young woman, draped in black, her cold face as unfeeling as a rock. Her icy glare fixated on me.

  I challenged her stare with one of my own that said, "I am not afraid of you, whoever you are." She vanished as quickly as she appeared.

  "I am not afraid of you, whoever you are." I whispered under my breath.

  Chapter Twelve

  The Secret

  When I returned from the funeral, I found Maman in her chair gazing into the fire, her puffy eyes the result of her sorrow, not her illness.

  "I'm glad you're up. Are you better?"

  "Well enough to pray for poor Brigitte. Tell me about the service."

  I told her about the beautiful flowers, the moving service, the large turnout, and how brave Auntie, Uncle, and Stefan were. She worried about all of us. I waited a few minutes before telling her the rest.

  "Maman, a spirit appeared in the crowd at the cemetery."

  I searched Maman's face for some sign of recognition, but she focused on the fire.

  "A young woman, dressed in black," I continued.

  She turned to me again, her expression revealed some understanding. She believed me.

  "Did you see her face?"

  "Not clearly, only her silver eyes filled with rage and riveted on me."

  Maman released an anguished sigh.

  "Suzanne, Stefan's sister." She spoke almost in a whisper.

  "How do you know?"

  "Lucinda and I met her once when she’d visited Phonse shortly after he moved to New Orleans. Her silver eyes were remarkable, but not angry then."

  "Is that the only reason?"

  "No. Lucinda told me so when we first arrived. I didn't want to believe her, but now I do."

  "Why would Stefan's sister want to harm Brigitte? Didn't she die before Brigitte was even born?"

  "She wants to harm Lucinda, and killing Brigitte was the best way to do it. She wants revenge. She blames Lucinda and me for her death."

  "I don't understand. What would make her think you would kill anybody?"

  "Because it's true."

  I didn't believe her. How could I? Not about Maman. I thought her head injury and the sadness of the day had created confusion in her mind.

  "You're old enough to understand what I'm about to tell you. It will shock and disappoint you, but you must know the truth."

  "I will believe anything you tell me, Maman."

  "Protect yourself and those you love from harm. You must learn how to keep the bad things away."

  Maman told me our family history, a history about supernatural powers that went back centuries - almost to the beginning of time.

  “Some families are entrusted with these powers. They keep secret knowledge in family Grimoires passed on to each generation. Our family is one of those, and our knowledge passes from mother to daughter. Your Granmè passed her knowledge and power to me as the oldest daughter. I had the Mark of Righteousness over my right ear. Lucinda didn't. That's one reason she resents me."


  "Before she died, my Maman asked Neni to hide our Grimoire in a secret chamber in the family crypt. She held it in safekeeping for me until I was old enough to understand. She told me about it when I was about your age. I started my training."

  "With Miss Marie?"

  "Yes," she nodded.

  This power had frightened Maman. She’d wanted no part of it at first, but agreed to begin her spiritual studies to please her Popá. Her heart wasn't in it. Miss Marie had dismissed her after a few sessions, telling her to return when she wanted to learn for herself, not for anyone else. Neni returned the Grimoire to the secret chamber where it stayed for many years.

  "Lucinda always wanted the power I had. She should have been the oldest daughter. Since this Gift passes from mother to daughter, even if I’d wanted to, I couldn't give it to her. She never accepted that I had all the power."

  "Is that the reason you don't get along?

  "Partially. Everything changed when she met Phonse. His good looks and gentleness captured her imagination and her heart. She fell deeply in love with him, even though he had a wife back in Buras and even though Popá did not consider him a suitable match." Maman was getting tired, and I helped her to the bed.

  "That didn't stop Lucinda. She wanted him for herself. She tried every potion, conjure man or woman, any spell she could get her hands on to have him. Finally, with the help of Papa Jean, she succeeded in 'fixing' him."

  "What does that mean?"

  "It means she bound him to her until she is ready to let him go."

  "It's liked she tricked him, isn't it?"

  "Yes, but that only solved half her problem. Suzanne loved Phonse as much as Lucinda. She would never agree to a divorce, not just because of her love for him, but also because of her faith. That only made Lucinda more headstrong. She had to rid Phonse of Suzanne. She cast every spell she could and used every trick she got her hands on to make Suzanne fall out of love with him. Some of her 'fixes' made Suzanne ill or caused her to have minor accidents."

  Maman took a deep breath and paused.