Gathering Deep (11 page)

“Don't Auntie Odette me,” Mama Legba told the boy, poking at his bare chest to punctuate her words. “Where's your mama?”

The guy gave a lazy shrug, the kind that's all attitude without saying a word. His eyes lighted on Lucy and me again, and his full mouth kicked up into a grin.

“Don't even, boy,” Mama Legba said.

The grin turned into a full-on smile, and I knew he was only playing. “Aw, Auntie. Don't be like that.”

“I'm not in the mood for your sass today,” Mama Legba said, but she looked like she was holding back a smile of her own. “Now, is you gonna let me in to talk to your mama, or do I have to make you?” She narrowed her eyes, but her mouth was definitely twitching with something like amusement by then.

He laughed at that, a rich, rolling laugh filled with the same teasing humor that sparked in his dark eyes when he looked at me. I made myself meet his gaze without flinching and did my best to scowl some more.

“I'd like to see you go on and try, but you best come on in,” he told her, stepping aside. “I don't need you hurting yourself, Auntie.”

Mama Legba smacked his bare chest as she brushed past. “Go put on some clothes. Like your mama didn't teach you nothing at all, answering the door without a stitch on.”

“I got more than a stitch on,” he said, running his thumb along the elastic waistband of his shorts, causing them to dip enough that I could make out the dark band of his boxer briefs. When I looked up, his teasing eyes were on me again.

It took everything I had not to look away and let him know exactly how much that laughter in his eyes felt like a tickling in my gut. I gave him another purposeful scowl that seemed to make him smile even more, his eyes lighting with a challenge.

“Y'all coming, too?” he asked.

We weren't going to stand there on the sidewalk all day, so we followed Mama Legba into the house. It had a welcoming, lived-in feeling, and it smelled like someone had been cooking something heavy with spices the day before. The air conditioner was whirring and rattling in the window, but it wasn't doing much for the closeness in the air.

“Where's your mama, boy?” Mama Legba asked again as she looked around the house and seemed to realize it was empty. She ignored the boy's indication that she should have a seat.

“Don't know,” he told her, slouching into a well-worn easy chair and ignoring her order to put on some clothes. “I got back from the rig late last night, and I haven't seen her yet today. But I'd 'preciate it if you would stop calling me
boy
, Auntie. In case you haven't noticed, I outgrew that some years back,” he said, waggling his eyebrows playfully.

Mama Legba glared at him. “You sure do seem to want everyone to know,” she said, gesturing to his still-bare chest. “You worried somebody's gonna miss you, strutting around like that?”

The guy laughed and ignored the question. “How you doing, Auntie O? It's been too long since I seen you.”

“That's only 'cause you never come visit. Out there living in the middle of that water. You think you some sort of fish? A body's meant for the dry land.” Mama Legba's eyes softened a little then, and despite her blustering, the affection she felt for him was clear as day on her face.

“Working on the rig is a good enough job,” he said. “Had to do something with myself.”

“You could've taken yourself off to school, like your mama wanted.”

The boy shook his head, his carefree expression faltering. “That wasn't for me, Auntie, and you know it. I can't stand being cooped up in a classroom just to someday be cooped up in an office. The rig suits me fine for now.”

Mama Legba seemed to be examining him. “That's true enough, I guess. You too wild for four walls to hold you in.” She smiled softly. “But what about for someday? You been practicing any?”

“Some,” he said, but he made the word sound like “not at all.”

Mama Legba nodded. “That's what I thought. Well, as you said, you ain't a boy now, so soon enough the question gonna be what you want to do about what you've been given.”

The boy frowned. “I got time.”

“Maybe you do and maybe you don't … ” She paused for a moment, and something passed between the two of them that made the room buzz with tension. Then, all at once, Mama Legba seemed to let it go. “ You really don't know where your mother got off to, Odane?”

“No,” he said. “I really don't. What do you need her for anyway?”

Mama Legba frowned. “I need to talk something over with her.”

The boy's brows went up. “It sure must be something if you came all this way just to talk,” he said. “But I don't know when she'll be back.”

Mama Legba finally took a seat on the edge of the couch, her arms crossed over her ample bosom. “I can wait.”

The guy—Odane—scooted to the edge of his chair, his forearms resting on his knees and his brows drawn together. “What's this all about, Auntie?”

“I bought up some aloe from Laveau's this week, but somebody done come into my home and tore it up so they could steal it,” she said with a frown. “My dishes is broke all over the floor, my furniture is all torn to bits, and my back door's been busted in. But nothing else is missing but that aloe.”

The expression of doubt on Odane's face didn't change. “You came all the way over here because somebody stole some plants?”

Mama Legba's brows drew together. “They wasn't just plants. They'd been curing already in black cat oil, and you know that ain't easy to find neither.”

Odane considered that information with a thoughtful frown. “What do you think my mom can do about it? She ain't no police. Besides, you tear up a person's house, you're doing something personal. You're trying to take a piece out of the person's security and peace of mind. That's nothing to brush aside.”

Mama Legba shook her head as Lucy gave a told-you-so huff and elbowed me.

“No,” Mama Legba told him. “I need to think this all through … ”

“What is there to think through?” Odane asked. “Someone broke into your
home
.”

“They sure enough did, but you don't understand.” She ran her hand up over her cheek, like she was comforting herself and trying to think all at once. “I had all the protections set,” she told him.

“Somebody got through
your
protections?” Odane's shock was clear.

Mama Legba nodded, her expression grave.

“Who around here is strong enough to do something like that?” he asked.

“Only one person I know of that would,” Mama Legba said, her dark eyes finding mine. “Question is, what she wants with that aloe.”

Ten

“I think you best come on back to the kitchen,” Odane said with a long-suffering kind of sigh. “I'm gonna need something to eat before I hear what you're about to say. Something tells me I'm not going to like a word of it.”

He got up without another word and headed back into the kitchen that opened onto the parlor we were sitting in. Instead of stopping there, he went on back through and disappeared through another door.

A second later, the front door opened. “Odette?” the small woman said as she stepped through the door and saw Mama Legba sitting in the parlor. “What are
you
doing here?” The woman didn't sound at all pleased to see Mama Legba, and then her eyes drifted to us and she seemed even less pleased.

If I hadn't already known we were in Mama Legba's sister's house, I might not have guessed the two women were even related. Where Mama Legba was broad and ample, this woman was small and slight, almost frail looking. Her hair was loose around her face in a short bob and didn't have any of the gray that shot through Mama Legba's. But there was something in the similar tilt of their eyes that marked them as family.

The woman came in, but her steps were labored and uneven because of the crutch she clasped in one hand and the way her right foot didn't exactly go straight.

“Odeana, honey,” Mama Legba said with a nervous sort of smile. She stood to greet her sister.

“Don't honey me,” the woman told her without an ounce of warmth. “What are you doing in my house?”

But before Mama Legba could reply, Odane came back through the kitchen, this time fully clothed. “Mom?”

The scowl on the small woman's face slid away and her entire expression brightened, like her argument with Mama Legba had never happened. She dismissed us completely and went to wrap her son—who towered above her—in a hug that made my throat go tight.

My momma used to hug me like that
. The thought was as sudden as it was awful. And I had the sudden realization that whatever happened next, I was never going to have that again. Even with everything that had happened, there was a small part of me that still craved my momma's arms around me.

Odeana made some more noises of delight over her son—how much she'd missed him, how good he looked, and how that sea air must have made him grow another three inches. He glanced up at us once, over his mother's head, clearly embarrassed, but then he turned back to her preening approval.

“You done yet?” he said, when it was clear he couldn't take any more.

“I'll let you know,” his mother said. But then she glanced over at Mama Legba. “Just as soon as I find out what
she's
doing here.”

“Someone smashed up her house,” Odane said, taking the opportunity to get himself free of her arms.

Odeana turned to Mama Legba, her face slack with shock. “They did what?” All at once, the anger and suspicion she'd worn like armor was gone.

“Broke up my place,” Mama Legba said, still clearly uncomfortable. “Ripped up the furniture, smashed up my pottery, made a mess of every blessed thing. Not my shop. My
home
.”

“Why didn't you tell me that straight off?”

“You never gave me no chance,” Mama Legba said wryly.

“But smashing up your home?” Odeana's hand came up to her mouth. “Oh, that's—well, that's lowdown, ain't it?”

“It sure is,” Odane said, all sincerity.

“What did the police say 'bout it?” Odeana asked.

“I didn't call no police,” Mama Legba said.

“Why not?” Odeana's eyes were wide with confusion.

Odane frowned. “That's what she was about to explain.”

Odeana looked at her expectantly.

“Because there ain't nothing the police can do about it,” Mama Legba said. “Besides, calling them probably would cause more trouble than I already have … ”

She gave Odane and his mother a very brief rundown of everything that happened earlier in the summer, only leaving out some of the details about how my own mother had possessed me.

Watching them talk—finishing each other's sentences, arguing over the finer points of Voodoo here and local history there—it was hard not to smile. They bickered pretty much constantly through the whole telling, but even I, a total stranger and outsider, could see that they were a family. Despite their differences, whatever they were, they seemed tightly knit, and I had the sense that each would have the other's back when it counted.

I'd only ever had my momma. We didn't have any big extended clan like a lot of folks do. It had always been just her and me, through thick and thin. Or so I thought. Now, I wasn't sure I'd ever had even that much.

“You 'member when that little white girl up and got herself killed at St. John's Eve?” Mama Legba was saying. “They called me in—to consult, you see.”

Odeana's mouth pulled down. “Does this story have a point, or did you come all the way over to my side of town to brag on yourself?” she drawled.

“I'm getting there.” Mama Legba shot her a look. “See, the body they found yesterday had some particular similarities to the girl who was killed on St. John's Eve. It wasn't no copycat. Those cuts was in the same sort of pattern.”

“So it's the witch?” Odeana asked.

“That's what I'm thinking,” Mama Legba confirmed.
“But for some reason, the police started looking at me.
That's why I haven't called them about my house. Last thing I need is them getting up in my business while we're trying to stop Thisbe before she does any more evil.”

“You think they'll be more victims,” Odane said.

I glanced up at the anger I heard in his words, and found him watching me like this was all my fault.

“I don't know for sure,” Mama Legba said. “But I would expect it.”

“And you're sure you trust
her
, Auntie?” Odane asked, gesturing in my direction.

“I want to stop Thisbe as much as anyone does,” I said, finally speaking up for myself.

Odane's expression was clouded with suspicion. “She's your mother,” he challenged. “You'd give up your own family? You'd really turn her in and let us put a stop to all this?”

“There ain't no us,” Mama Legba snapped. “I just need some information. I didn't come here to drag you all into this.” She looked pointedly at Odeana and Odane.

Odeana snorted, a sound of disdain that sounded so much like Mama Legba it startled me. “You always did think you could boss me around—always have, still trying to. Lot of good that's done you over the years.” Odeana leaned forward. “You already dragged me into this when you brought it right up to my front door.”

Mama Legba didn't seem to have a response to that. The two women stared each other down, but it was Odeana who broke the silence by speaking again. “You know as well as I do that you might be good at telling what is, but what
will
be hasn't never been your strength.”

Mama Legba didn't seem all that pleased to hear this appraisal.

“You came to see me because the aloe is gone.” It wasn't a question the way Odeana said it, but more a way of reminding everyone of the point.

Mama Legba shared a look with her sister, and I couldn't tell what that look meant.

“What's the deal with the aloe?” I asked.

“If everything she told us here is the truth, there's not much chance that witch stole it for a beauty treatment,” Odeana said.

“What are you thinking she wanted it for?” Mama Legba asked.

“Oh, well … you can use aloe for all sorts of reasons and things, of course, but if this Thisbe stole it, another use for aloe, 'specially aloe curing like it was, is to summon a demon.”