We all sighed. It would be so hard to part ways at the end of summer.
I stood up. “Well, we still have the rest of July and the whole month of August. Summer is just starting, right? Now, who wants something to eat or drink? My dad gave me a whole five dollars, and I’ll bet we can make a nice dent in it.”
Chapter 31
A long, torturous week passed. We went less frequently to the hospital, since Elsbeth was allowed to stay home with us at Wee Castle while her parents practically lived at the hospital. Siegfried was still in the ICU. He hadn’t responded at all, not to the voices of his mother or father, nor to the tests they performed on him. But the doctors reported that his brainwaves were still active, which was a very good sign. We hadn’t lost hope. We’d never give up. And the good news was the doctors predicted any day now that he’d be moved to a room in a special ward for coma patients where we all could visit. The bad news was eventually—if he didn’t wake up soon—he’d be shifted over to a special facility for similar patients in Oakland.
Elsbeth had been sleeping on the couch in our Wee Castle living room. Surprisingly, Shadow had seemed to adopt her and slept with her every single night since she’d come home. It didn’t bother me too much, except for a tiny twinge of jealously once in a while. I was actually proud of my beagle for being such a good dog and caring for her. She needed the comfort more than I did.
We’d agreed to get together with Willy on Saturday night after dinner, so we could try out some of her magic. My father made us a fire in the barbecue pit behind Wee Castle, and my mother brought out a bag of marshmallows once we had the blaze going.
“Here you go, kids. Don’t eat too many now, Gus. You know how they make your stomach hurt when you do that.”
“I won’t, Mum.” This time I actually meant what I said. I wouldn’t have time to gorge on too many of the sweet confections.
My father put an arm around my mother’s waist and she leaned her head on his chest, watching us affectionately. He nodded to me. “Gus? You all set now?”
“Yes, Dad. Thanks.”
“Remember, don’t wander off from here. We’ll check every so often. I can see you from the bedroom window.”
Willy, Elsbeth and I exchanged a secret glance. We’d hoped they’d leave us alone so we could try some voodoo magic, and it looked like our plan was working.
“Don’t worry, we’re not going anywhere.” I lifted a hand to wave to them as they sauntered back around the cabin to the porch.
Willy took our hands and squeezed. “We’re alone. That’s good news.” She brandished a cloth bag that she’d hidden behind one of the boulders nearby. “Everything we need is in here.”
Elsbeth giggled and ducked down close to her when Willy spread the contents out on the other side of the barbecue pit. I sat visible to the cabin on the side of the pit with a willow branch in my hand and a flaming marshmallow on its end to make things look authentic. If my parents didn’t see me eating them, they’d know something was up. I’d never been known to say no to toasted—or should I say charcoal burned—marshmallows.
“What are we doing first?” I whispered, blowing out the fire at the end of the stick.
Willy looked up. “I brought a doll to represent Monique. My thoughts are that if she is found, the real kidnapper will be revealed, and my brother will be freed.”
Elsbeth nodded. “That’s good. Let’s start with that one.”
Willy drew out a hand-sewn doll not too different from the one that had fallen out of her canoe weeks ago. Made with plain cloth, with “x” stitches for eyes, and a black-stitched mouth, it also had yellow yarn sewn to its scalp like its predecessor.
Willy moved around to my side and tossed some vile smelling herbs on the fire, followed by a few drops of a fancy oil that smelled like the funeral I’d been to last year for Mr. Brown.
“Is that some kind of incense?” I asked.
Willy nodded. “Many properties of natural herbs and their extracted oils help us connect with those above.” Her eyes glowed. “And those below.”
Elsbeth shuddered. “Below?”
“Yes,” Willy said. “Sometimes we call on the power of evil to reclaim its own.”
“Wow,” I said, watching her take more things out of the bag. “You don’t have any frogs eyes or toad’s tails in there, do you?”
Willy froze. “Do you really want to know?”
I blinked. “Um.”
She laughed. “No. Not this time, anyway.”
I let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, good.”
“I’ll need samples of this land, a handful of pine needles, a big pine cone, and a bit of sand from the beach.”
Elsbeth jumped up. “Oh. Here’s a pinecone and some needles.” She scuttled over to grab them and raced back to Willy’s side.
“I’ll get some sand.” I headed down to the beach to scoop a handful of golden sand into my palm, and caught the glint of something in the woods nearby. Shocked, I straightened and called out. “Is someone there?”
The girls stood up and watched me.
“Gus? Everything okay?” Willy asked.
Something rustled away, and the woods were quiet again. “Just an animal, I think. Maybe a raccoon.” I trotted back to the bonfire and held out my hand. “Here you go.”
“Maintenant, I’m going to teach you some words to chant with me. Then we are going to add our offerings to the fire. Elsbeth, you will toss the pinecone and needles after you say these words. ‘Great Mother of the Woods, reveal to us our lost daughter. Moolahi Saya Nowtaya.”
Elsbeth repeated the phrase until she got it.
“Gus?”
“I’m ready.”
“You say, ‘Holder of all Mysteries, bring back she who was taken from us. Moolahi Saya Nowtaya.’ Then sprinkle the sand over the fire slowly.”
I repeated it. “Got it.”
“And I will sing my chants with this effigy of Monique. We will place her on the grate above the fire as a sacrifice to the demons who have made all this happen. She will burn, but her spirit will be freed. And she will come back to this place, grounded by the pinecones and sand.”
My heartbeat kicked up a notch. Willy really seemed to have it all planned out. I just hoped it worked.
“I’ll start with a chant now,” Willy said, keeping her voice low. “We have to do this quietly so no one comes out to see what we’re doing.”
“Right,” I said, glancing nervously up at the bedroom window where a warm cone of light spilled toward us.
She stood with the doll raised above her head and began to sing a strange tune in a language I didn’t understand, reminiscent of the first voodoo campfire we’d witnessed. Her eyes closed, her head tilted from side to side, and soon she began to dance in a serpentine motion, raising and lowering the doll above her head. With a sudden halt, she blazed her eyes toward Elsbeth. “Now!”
Elsbeth squeaked with a yelp of fear, then stood and said, “Great Mother of the Woods, reveal to us our lost daughter. Moolahi Saya Nowtaya.” With a flourish, she tossed the cone and needles over the fire, and suddenly added, “Amen.”
Willy raised an eyebrow to her, and then started to sing and dance again. We watched her sinewy body almost writhe to the beat now as she moved faster and faster. She stopped before me, lifted the doll over her head, and snapped her eyes in my direction. Sweat tricked down her temples and I swear a strange light came from her eyes. “Gus. Your turn.”
I exchanged a solemn glance with her and stood. “Holder of all Mysteries, bring back she who was taken from us. Moolahi Saya Nowtaya.” I sprinkled the sand over the fire.
One more time, Willy resumed her dance and chanting. This time the words went back to her accented English, and I caught the meaning. She was pleading to any and all spirits who might be listening, to come gather around and help us reveal the missing girl and the villain who took her.
With a flourish, she placed the doll on the fire grate, and we all muttered, “Moolahi Saya Now
taya,” without her even having to tell us. It just seemed the right time to do it.
The flames curled up to the blond hair, crisping it black in seconds. The fabric seemed to melt, and just before the doll turned to a flaming lump, I saw the stitched smile turn blood red.
Shivering, I jumped a mile when my father’s voice came from the window. “Gus? Time to come in now. Bring Willy up here and I’m going to drive her back to her camp. She shouldn’t walk through the woods alone.”
I dragged myself out of my shocked state. “Um. Okay, Dad. We’ll be right up. I’ll just douse the fire first.”
“Good boy,” he said, again making me feel guilty for all I’d hidden from him.
Willy had collapsed on the ground behind the fire pit, heaving hard. She looked up at me. “I’m sorry we don’t have time for the other spells.”
Elsbeth shivered. “It’s okay. We always have tomorrow night for Siegfried’s spell, right?”
Willy nodded and slowly got up. “Actually, I think I need some more time to think about this. Maybe it’s something we should do at his bedside. We should be close to him.”
I waited until the voodoo doll was completely burned, then poured a big galvanized pail of water over the fire. It sizzled, smoked, steamed, and finally went out. “We’re going to be able to visit him soon,” I said. “Let’s plan on doing it at the hospital if we can sneak in there together when no one’s watching.”
Willy looked thoughtful. “It’ll have to be quiet. A different kind of ceremony. But I have some really good ideas. And we’ll need props. Some of his favorite things. You two will have that job. Think about it and bring them when we go, okay?”
Elsbeth said, “Oh, Ja. I have some ideas already.”
“Me, too.” I put the pail back, double-checked the fire, and led the girls back around to the other side of the cabin, where my father sat on the porch dangling his keys in his hands. “You kids ready?”
“Sure, Dad. Can we ride with you?”
He shrugged. “I don’t see why not.” He turned toward the cabin. “Gloria? I’m taking all three with me. Back in a few minutes.”
She answered from the kitchen. “Okay, André.”
Shadow poked his nose at the screen door, scratching.
“No boy, you stay here and guard Mum,” I said firmly.
His tail stopped wagging and his head drooped.
“That’s a good boy. We’ll be home soon.”
We followed my father up the hill and piled into the station wagon.
Chapter 32
Dad drove slowly over the rutted dirt road. I sat in the front, and the girls chatted in the back seat. Tonight seemed unusually dark. Maybe it was because there were no streetlights on this old windy track, and maybe because whenever I was out there it was always daytime. But it was spooky, especially when the fog began to rise out of nowhere.
I’d seen the fog come in off the lake as if God had leaned down to blow a misty breath across the region. It could rise in minutes, completely blocking all vision. The twins and I had been subjected to it a few summers back when I’d had them out on in the boat, ready to visit Moosehead Island, and we’d been socked in. After hitting a massive boulder called “Big Blue,” beneath the lake surface, we’d capsized, floated in the water for hours, linking hands through our seat cushions in a watery triad. Thankfully, we’d finally reached the safety of a distant shore.
I couldn’t help but think of that afternoon now. My father put the windshield wipers on, and as they noisily swished against the glass I involuntarily leaned forward to try to see where we were going. An owl flew past, briefly illuminated in the headlights. Its bright gold eyes glittered at me.
“Dad! Watch out,” I cried, pointing to a hooded figure that stood frozen in the road.
My father stomped on the brakes, sending us all sprawling forward. The car skidded sideways. The girls screamed. And we came to a thudding halt.
When I recovered and looked up again, the figure was gone.
“Who was that?” I asked. “Is he insane?”
“I don’t know, son.” The car started forward again. “All I saw was a man,” he said. “Standing right in the middle of the road.”
“Where’d he go?”
He got out and looked around. “Is anyone there? Are you okay?” With a flashlight, he checked all around the roadside.
“I can’t see a thing in this fog. I think he ran off. I’d better slow it down even more, son. I swear, visibility is no more than two feet.”
Something about the silhouette had seemed familiar, and it niggled at me. But I couldn’t make sense of it.
We finally made the turn where the garish Seven Whistles sign loomed off to our left, its array of suspended whistles dangling like colorful bones in the fog.
“There it is,” I whispered. “Finally.”
My father turned into the entrance and slowly rolled down the hill as far as he could go toward the bottom of the camp, close to Carmen’s cabin. He left the lights on with the engine running, stomped on the parking brake, and opened the back door for the girls. He went inside to greet Carmen for a moment, returning a minute later.
Willy and Elsbeth tumbled out for a final hug.
“Bon soir, mes amis,” Willy said sweetly, reaching to me for a hug, too.
“See you tomorrow?” I asked.
She nodded. “Bien sûr. And now we will see what happens,” she said mysteriously, giving us a knowing glance.
I turned to go back to the car, but instead bumped into Pierre LaFontaine, who’d been standing directly behind us with arms folded.
“So, where have you been, little slave girl?” he asked with a sneer, pushing close to Willy.
Willy avoided his eyes and stepped back. “Visiting friends. It’s after work hours, Pierre. It’s allowed.”
He mimicked her with a nasty tone. “It’s allowed?” He snorted. “Well, you’d better be up in time for your chores. We’re short-staffed because we’re still serving those search parties.”
My father stepped forward, and I realized Pierre hadn’t been aware of his close presence because the car had hidden him.
“Young man, you need to adjust your tone right this minute. This fine girl is a friend to my family and she was invited to our home tonight. She’s within her rights and you are way out of bounds. Employee or not, she deserves your respect.” His eyes blazed at Pierre. “And I believe it was you I almost hit, wasn’t it, standing out in that road with your hood pulled up? What were you thinking?”
Pierre took a faltering step backwards. “I, er—”
“I may have to discuss this with your parents. There have been reports of you bullying your staff all over my camp, from multiple sources. Now that I’ve seen this for myself—and I have to say I’m pretty disturbed by it—I believe action needs to be taken. Perhaps your father would be the one with whom I should discuss this?”
Pierre fell apart, groveling like a simpering fool. “Oh, no, sir. I didn’t mean anything by it. Honest. I just like to tease Willy.”
“Tease? There’s a big difference between teasing and abuse. This—he waved a hand at Pierre—is clearly abuse.” He pointed to Pierre’s hand wrapped with a bandage. “What happened to your hand?” His eyes narrowed. “You didn’t by any chance get attacked by a dog the other night, did you?”
My heart leapt. I’d noticed the bandage and wondered the same thing. Had Pierre been the one Shadow chased away from our window? Had he taken a nice, big bite out of him?
“No, sir.” He slid his hand into his sweatshirt pocket. “I cut it this morning when I fell from my skis. You can ask anyone. I took a bad turn off the ramp and got it cut deep. Needed stitches and everything.” He pulled himself upright. “I have witnesses.”
“Really? That’s a lot of detail for a simple answer,” my father persisted. “But rest assured, if I have the slightest suspicion that you’re up to no good,” he stepped menacingly closer and poked a finger at Pierre’s chest, “I wi
ll report you to the authorities so fast your head will spin.”
Pierre’s face darkened and his hands trembled. He didn’t say a word.
“And as for Willy here, one more remark from you calling her a ‘slave girl,’ and I’ll also report you to the Civil Rights Union. They don’t take kindly to people up here treating Negroes like they’re still slaves. And from what I’ve been seeing, that’s exactly what you do. Abraham Lincoln freed these folks many years ago, and those laws still stand.” He paused for a breath. “Do you understand?”
Pierre hung his head, but I saw his pulse beating in his neck. His face flushed with fury. “Yes, sir. Sorry.” He fled back up the hill.
Willy stared up at my father as if he were God. Her eyes, wide with wonder, shone, and she fell forward to hug him. “Thank you, Mr. LeGarde. No one’s ever done that for me before.”
My father patted her back and exchanged a glance with Carmen, who’d been watching from the screen door. “Well, honey. It’s high time they did. I want you and your aunt to report to me any time he does this. And although I suspect you’ll be afraid of repercussions, I have a feeling that when someone stronger than this slimy eel threatens him, he’ll slither away. And if he doesn’t, I’m seriously going to take action.”
Carmen cleared her throat. “Now, Mr. LeGarde. Don’t go too crazy for the cause. We still need our jobs, you know.”
He straightened and nodded. “Understood. I’ll be careful. But I’m not standing by while this happens.”
We said goodnight, and drove back at a snail’s pace to Loon Harbor.
My heart was filled with absolute love and pride. Elsbeth held my hand, and I could feel the same emotions ringing within her. My father had just played out a scene worthy of Atticus Finch. And I’d been there to witness it.
I beamed the whole way home, and after Elsbeth settled on the couch and my father came into my room to say goodnight, I hugged him extra hard for a long time. “I’m so proud of you, Dad.”
He lifted my face to his with a gentle smile. “And vice versa, Gus. Now you sleep well.”
Shadow jumped on the bed, circled three times, and lay at my feet. I hoped Elsbeth didn’t feel badly that he’d deserted her. My father turned off my light, pulled my door almost shut, and padded to his bedroom where my mother waited. The sound of water lapping on the rocks beneath my floorboards soon lulled me to a peaceful sleep.
Voodoo Summer (LeGarde Mysteries Book 11) Page 14