Authors: C. R. Daems
"Thank you, Renee. I always
enjoy talking with you. It's been interesting learning about Vodou since its
roots are in Catholicism. I'm ready for all the good news."
I put my hands over hers hoping she
was right. I usually only told people about the next couple of weeks, although
I could see more. In the beginning, I could only see three to four weeks and
thought two was enough. Now I saw it as an advantage with Ken and Sheila
sniffing around. I suspected whoever wanted Granny's ability needed far more
than a couple of weeks. Maybe I could use that to thwart whatever they had
planned. Of course, seeing two weeks into the future would be tremendously
beneficial to anyone, especially those in power.
Oatha's life was pretty normal for
the next two weeks, with the exception of the whole family coming down with
what looked like a cold. However, her close friend was in a car accident. Oatha,
as usual, was a good friend and drove her around while her car was being fixed.
"Well, I'm afraid you may have
jinxed it a bit. I think you and the family maybe are in for that seasonal
cold. One of your friends isn't quite so lucky. I think she'll need your help.
Nothing really serious."
She had several questions about
what I had seen, which I intentionally kept vague. I didn't want anyone to know
how clearly I saw the future, just enough to believe in me so I could help when
the occasion arose. Of course, the income was appreciated—I had to eat
and pay the bills.
The next evening, Harry Bishop
entered the shop, smiling. He looked like the old Harry, generous in size and personality.
Last time, he had looked shrunken and defeated.
"You saved me and my marriage.
I can't thank you enough, Mambo Renee. I've always disliked my mother-in-law
and the thought of her coming to live with us put a wedge between my wife and
me. But I took your advice, and it brought Mary and me closer together. It also
helped me to get to know my mother-in-law. I guess we both got off on the wrong
foot years ago and could never recover. She was pretty nice once I got to know
her and understood her concerns and worries. She died two weeks ago."
"I hope she didn't suffer too
much."
"I think it helped being with
her daughter, and I think Mary is more at peace with her death knowing her
mother died among family." He sat and put his hands on the table.
"I've never had much belief in fortunetelling, but you're different. You
not only saw the problem but helped me see what needed to be done. So if you
don't mind, I'd like to stop in on a regular basis."
"I'm glad what I saw helped.
I'll set you up with a regular appointment. Monthly or every couple of
months?"
"Monthly, I think."
"Before you leave," I
said, placing my hands on his, and the weeks flowed by. I actually stopped it
around two months. I was stunned. I had never reached two months before, and
this time I knew I could have gone further, but I chose to stop. "You look
happy, Mr. Bishop, and I see nothing to disturb that."
He laughed. "I like that. No
sugar coated stories. Thank you, Mambo Renee," he said, standing. When he
reached into his pocket, I shook my head.
"You don't owe me anything.
You overpaid me last time."
He left smiling. I was smiling too.
My fortunetelling was not only helping people but bringing in extra money.
I started early the next morning removing
the fire-sale signs as the new window was being delivered and installed today.
The sale had been a good idea, and I had made three months’ worth of profit,
and my website was beginning to get some attention, although I was still
working with the developer to understand how to manage it: add, delete, and
change prices. It looked like it would take several hours work a week but could
increase my income by as much as twenty percent. My needs were small, and I
could manage on what I was earning, but it would be nice to have money in the
bank for a rainy day. As they had promised, the glass people arrived at eight
a.m. and had the window installed in twenty minutes.
I was standing outside admiring my
new window when a police officer I didn't recognize approached.
"That's a mighty nice window, Mambo
Renee. I'm Officer Banks. If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you a few
questions about the incident last week."
"Are you new to the French
Quarter?” I asked as I led him into the shop. I thought it a bit strange when
he closed the door behind him and knew it wasn't going to be a good day when he
locked it. I went directly to the counter and sat. As he opened the door to my
private quarters, I reached into the drawer and grabbed two rings, promising
myself I was never again going without one night or day. I slipped the rings
on, not sure what I selected.
"I see you live alone,"
he said as he drew his gun and waved it towards my room. I got up and preceded
him into my living area. "Open the back door." When I did, two men wearing
Halloween masks slipped inside.
"Hold out your hands,"
the policeman said. When I did he handcuffed me.
"Am I under arrest?" I
asked. A silly question since the policeman was accompanied by two men in
masks. But the policeman looked real—a uniform complete with badge and NOPD
arm patch, gun, radio, and baton.
"Yes. We are taking you in for
questioning." The two men grabbed me by the arms and led me out the back
and into a black Chrysler sedan. They dragged me into the back with one sitting
on either side of me. The police officer entered the passenger side. Another
man was already in the driver’s seat. As they closed the doors, one of the men
holding me shoved a rag in my mouth and the other dragged a cloth bag over my
head.
I had no idea where we went. It
seemed to take at least an hour, and the vehicle must have made fifty turns. For
all I knew, they might have been driving in circles. Eventually we stopped, and
I was pulled out of the car. Judging by the relative lack of traffic noise we
must have been in the suburbs or the country. I was half-carried and
half-dragged downstairs, probably into a basement from the musty smell. When we
reached the bottom of the stairs, someone handcuffed my ankles. Then a rope or
something was attached to the chain linking the handcuffs, and my arms were
hoisted over my head. I screamed as pain shot through my shoulders as my feet
left the ground.
"Not so tight," a man's
gravelly voice said.
"They aren't going to like
this, Bea—They wanted us to stop. They didn't want her hurt," a
woman’s voice murmured, barely above a whisper.
"Why would we hurt Ms. Mathur?
I sure she intends to cooperate, in which case she can leave here financially
secure and in fine health."
"They won't like it if she
disappears," the same woman said again, her soprano voice louder.
"I don't give a damn what they like
or don't like. This is my turf. Besides, whoever leaked the firebombing plans
to her is a threat to us all. A loose end we can't afford." He stopped
talking and approached close enough that I could smell his cigarette breath.
Then his hand touched my neck, slowly slid down my chest, lingered at my
breasts, and continued to my groin, which he patted. "This can be over in
minutes, Renee," he whispered. "Tell me the name of the person who
told you Monique would be firebombed and that you would be. Please don't deny
it. I know about the stakeout, the phony rumors, and that you were prepared.
After that, you sign over your shop, I give you a half million dollars, and you
can leave."
"Someone else offered me two
million," I said, trying to shake the fear that had me trembling. Staying
quiet had me thinking too much. I'm not sure what I hoped to learn, or how it
was going to get me clear of this situation. My options seemed rather limited
at the moment.
"You refused that offer. I'm
afraid that group is no longer interested. You also have to realize the value
of your property has dropped, what with murders and firebombing. The
neighborhood is no longer safe. In fact, I fear for your safety, which is why
this is such a good offer."
"No one told me anything, I
have a lot of friends—" A shock convulsed my whole body. I tried to scream
as every muscle contracted and agony exploded through me, but every muscle was
locked. My bowels released as shit and urine gushed into my pants and dripped
down my legs. I hung there jerking as spasms racked my body again and again.
"Not only will lying not work
but each time the value of your property decreases, since you are obviously
hiding things from me. The offer is now four hundred fifty thousand," the
man said, his voice tinged with amusement.
The
bastard was enjoying himself.
"I'm not lying—" I
started to say just before my whole body contracted like a giant hand had
closed around me and squeezed tight. Mercifully, I passed out. When I woke, the
room was quiet. I wanted to curl into a fetal position, but I still hung like a
side of beef. I couldn't see anything as the bag still covered my head, making
it hard to breathe. My entire body throbbed with pain, and my shoulders felt
like they had been dislocated. I must have thrown up because my mouth had a
sour taste, and I smelled puke in addition to piss and shit.
God, if you or one of the Loa isn’t too
busy, I could use a little help...please...even a little,
I prayed. I
didn't expect God or a Loa to interfere, but it brought a small sense of
comfort to think they saw and maybe felt sorry for me, even if He or they chose
not to intercede. I was hot, probably feverish, and hallucinating, but I
thought I could feel the python tattoo moving. Whether it did or not, it felt
comforting, and I passed out.
* * *
"Well, Renee, have you had a
nice rest? I hope it's helped you realize that resisting giving me the name is
not only painful but costing you a great deal of money." The man's voice
jerked me awake. Yes, I had time to think and decided I was in a no-win
situation. I couldn't give him what he wanted even if I wanted and couldn't
convince him I wasn't lying, so the pain would continue. I also decided he was
using a Taser of some kind. The electrodes were probably still attached, since
I hadn't felt him press anything against me. Perhaps my reprieve was so he
could charge the batteries.
"Y’all might as well kill me.
I don't have the answer you want, and if I did, I doubt you are the kind of people
I could trust to do what you say."
"I can see your point of view,
so let's restate the argument. Wouldn't you rather die quickly or endure a week
or two more of this agony?"
"As I said, I don't have the
answer you want. I'd like to live longer to help those in need and bring them
closer to God—"
"The devil, you mean," an
older sounding man shouted. A short laugh exploded from me, which I regretted
immediately as I jerked and my body jerked and thrashed from the jolts of pain.
"Before you kill me, your uninformed
friend will want to perform an exorcism. I'm afraid neither of you are going to
get what you want."
"You may be right, but I have
to try," he said, but the amusement was gone. The cycle continued: body-racking
pain, blackout, quiet, body-racking pain...
I woke slowly, my head fuzzy and my
body numb, which was a huge relief. I wondered if God gave us new bodies. Since
I was lying in a bed, perhaps God had reclaimed the old ones. Maybe He was
fixing the old one; it had certainly been misused. Then I felt someone holding
my hand. I squeezed to make sure.
"Renee, you're awake,"
Monique's voice sounded far away, but when I opened my eyes, she stood holding
my hand and looking down at me.
"You're safe," Grace said
from the other side of the bed. She looked tired. Just then a gray-haired nurse
entered the room.
"I know you want to question
her, but she's heavily sedated right now. She’ll be more coherent after she's
rested. Besides, the doctor wants to examine her." She nodded to a young
looking man in a white doctor's jacket and a stethoscope hanging around his
neck. Monique gave me a kiss on the cheek and left with Grace following.
"Well... Ms. Mathur," he
said after looking at the clip-board in his hand. "The good news is the
emergency team didn't find any indication of rape." He proceeded to
conduct a thorough examination of me from head to foot.
"Those look like Taser
electrodes wounds on your chest," he said when he finished.
"I think so. They had my head
covered, so I couldn't see, and my hands were strung over my head, so I
couldn't be sure."
"That explains the bruising on
your wrists and discomfort in your shoulders. I don't think you will suffer any
permanent physical damage, but it will take time to recover. Right now your
body needs rest. I'm prescribing a drip to reduce the pain and help you to
sleep. I'll check back tomorrow." He smiled and left. I noticed a police
officer at the door and almost screamed in terror. I lay shaking for some time
before I managed to fall asleep.
The next two days were a blur. I
had visitors, Monique, Ron, Grace, and others, but I don't remember what they
or I said, if anything. The third morning, the nurse helped me to have a sponge
bath, and I had the first meal I fed myself. Afterward, the doctor appeared.
"Good morning, Mambo
Renee," he said with a smile. "Your friends have told me a bit about
you. You're rather young for a mambo, aren't you?"
"You're rather young for a
doctor, aren't you?" I smiled back. "Doctor…?"
"Douglas. Touché."
"My grandmother was a high
priestess and began teaching me about Vodou when I was quite young. I'd bet
I've spent at least as many years studying herbs and Vodou as you did studying
to be a doctor."
"Your visitors are very
impressed with you," he said as he drew the curtain around the bed and
began his examination. "I'll want some x-rays of your wrist and shoulders
just to be on the safe side. I think it's only torn muscle and maybe tendons,
both will heal without surgery. I'd think we should keep you for a few more
days. You will get more rest here than at home."
"I agree." It was true,
and in truth, I wasn't anxious to be alone. When he left I turned on the
television and lay clicking through the stations. I stopped at the local news
broadcast, deciding to catch up on what had been happening for the past several
days. The big story was the murder of the New Orleans chief of police. He had
been found in his home, yesterday. They went on for some time talking about his
distinguished career and his no-nonsense approach. His assistant talked for a
few minutes about him, saying, he considered New Orleans "his turf."
My chaotic thoughts were interrupted when Grace appeared at the door.
"How are you feeling,
Renee?" she asked as she neared the bed and took my hand. "You look
better."
"Who found me and where?"
I asked. "I didn't think my abductor intended to let me go with or without
the name he sought."
"Off Terry Parkway near the
Belle Chasse Highway intersection. 9-1-1 got a call saying there was a girl
lying on the side of the road, who looked like she had been beaten. The person sounded
like a man and hung up immediately afterward. The call came from a disposable
cellphone." Grace paused, waiting for me to say something, judging by her
look. I shrugged. I didn't have a clue how I got there. "What do you
remember?"
"Far too much," I said,
shutting my eyes, which was the wrong thing to do as it made me feel like I was
back in that room. "I was standing outside my shop admiring my new window
when..." I went on to explain what I remembered. She had a thousand
questions I couldn't answer. "I'm sorry, Grace. I had a bag over my head,
and the man wasn't a big talker. He wanted a name. If you want me to guess, he
was part of the group who killed Houngan Bolade and firebombed my shop. He
thought someone from his group had warned me and wanted the name."
"Did someone?"
"No. So I couldn't give him a
name, and he wouldn't accept that as an answer."
"Why did he let you go
then?"
"I don't think he did. I think
he was the Chief of Police."
"But he was just found
murdered... Oh, but why?" she said and sat, eyes downcast, and deep in
thought.
Because
I'm the golden goose.
"If I'm right, you have a tip
which may lead you to the other members of the group. Maybe they have the
answer," I said to avoid any more questions. Grace sat there for a long
time saying nothing. Fortunately, Monique arrived not too long afterward.
"How are you feeling. You look
better," she said as she held my chin and looked into my eyes. "Seek
the Loa's help, my child. They will give you strength." I knew she wasn't
talking about my physical injuries. It was the memories and what I should do.
"And I'm always available should you need anything."
"Thank you, Mambo Monique. I
feel lost," I said as tears trickled down my face. Maybe Granny’s solution
was my only choice. They wouldn’t leave me alone and eventually they would get
desperate and resort to more torture.
* * *
I returned to my home two days
later. The sign on the door said:
Closed
until March 7,
which ironically was today's date. Obviously, my abductor
thought the issue would be resolved within a week. I opened the door and stared,
for the first time in my life afraid of entering my home—Hector, Ken and
Sheila, and the policeman had desecrated it. As I stood frozen, I felt the
python tattoo move, easing all my fears. Then a searing pain on my left arm.
When I pulled back my sleeve the rune Mpuannum—the symbol of priestly
office—appeared. Five circles or tufts, the traditional hairstyle of a
priestess. The message from the Loa was clear—they acknowledged my
service to God's people and their support for my loyalty. As I watched, the
beautiful tattoo of a horse's head began to cover it.
Feeling better, I walked around and
found nothing out of place or missing. It was midafternoon and too late to open
for business. Besides, I felt too weak. I needed food and rest, so I heated up
some leftovers and went to bed.
* * *
I opened the shop on time the next
day. I was still weak, but I couldn't afford to keep the shop closed since
bills didn't stop coming. Besides, light exercise would probably help speed up
my recovery. There were few customers; however, a lot of people who knew me
stopped in either because they had heard I was in the hospital or because I
left without letting them know.
"I thought it strange you left
without canceling our biweekly session," Oatha said. "It's strange
you can't tell your own fortune. You could have avoided... Are you all right? What
happened?"
"Maybe the Loa don't want me
to know my future. It would distract me from what's important—my work as
a mambo. And yes, I'm fine, but I'm afraid I can't tell you anything. The
police don't want me talking about it as it's part of a larger ongoing
investigation." Since talking about what happened would raise more
questions than I could answer, it was best to avoid the topic entirely. That
seemed to appease her. She confirmed an appointment for next week and left. To
my relief, none of the Locos stopped in to wish me well.
The next few days were slow, and I
had plenty of time to think. I came to the conclusion that the Chief of Police
and his group had nothing to do with Ken and Sheila's group. The woman who was
present when the chief first talked to me had said "they aren't going to
like this." At the time, I thought it was the group he was associated with.
But I think she was referring to the Ken and Sheila group. They want me alive
and within reach. The chief didn't care. He wanted the name of the person who he
felt was a danger to him. So the ordeal hadn't solved the real problem—Granny's
killers were still interested in me.
On Saturday, Grace called to invite
me to dinner on Sunday. Although it was partly business, I felt we were friends,
and they were concerned about me, so I accepted. I arrived a little after one
p.m., and Ron answered the door and gave me a gentle hug.
"You had us scared, Renee. You
didn't look good in the hospital."
"Actually, I felt a lot better
lying in bed than hanging from the ceiling like a side of beef."
"You were lucky," Ron
said, leading me into the kitchen where Grace was busy putting together snacks
and drinks.
"Hi. What would you like to
drink?"
"I'll have a glass of wine,
whatever you're drinking," I said.
Ron poured me a glass of wine as
Grace carried a tray of crackers and spreads into the living room.
"Ron's right. You look much
better, but how are you feeling? I want to update you on the case and hopefully
assure you that you don't have to worry about those people anymore. You were
right about the Chief of Police. Based on what you said, I obtained a warrant
and searched his house. We found emails on his personal computer and other
documents in his home office linking him to several other influential people
and a plot to clean up the city. We are still gathering information, but they
know they’re under investigation and will be lying low."
"Grace has gotten a promotion
and major recognition, thanks to you, Renee. But we would prefer you led a less
active life. No more firebombs or abductions." Ron gave me a wry smile.
"Ron's right. I'm hoping this
case will stop the troubles you've been having," Grace said. I couldn't
help an involuntary laugh, which I instantly regretted. Ron misinterpreted the laugh,
but Grace gave me an inquiring look.
"Grace will get them all,
Renee. She's a pit-bull...a beautiful one," he amended with a loving look
at her.
"I won't press you, Renee, but
I'm here if you need me—officially or unofficially," Grace said and
changed the topic to Ron's new responsibilities. He had been given a
high-profile client to defend in a criminal liability case.
It was a pleasant evening with
friends who cared.
* * *
The next few days were busy. I entertained
customers during the day, and spent the evenings reviewing my inventory,
analyzing what was and wasn't selling well, making out orders, and reviewing my
website. The latter turned out to be interesting. I found the items that sold
well in the shop weren't the best sellers online. Herbal remedies were particularly
popular, and I decided to expand the number of prepackaged compounds to address
a variety of aliments—ones reputable herbalists have been treating for
centuries. I kept busy and relegated my problems to the back seat.
I was preparing to close for the
week, when a good looking man entered and wandered around the shop appearing
interested in everything. He dressed casually in beige slacks, a short-sleeved
polo sport-shirt, and loafers. When he reached the counter, he smiled.
"A very interesting shop,
Mambo Renee, especially your collection of herbs," he said as our eyes
met. He looked familiar.
I breathed a soft laugh. "Doctor
Douglas?" I realized how mentally disoriented I must have been after my
ordeal. He was tall, good-looking, and had a warm expression, someone I would
normally have noticed and remembered.
"Yes. Jim, please," he
said. “Although many of those herbs are probably much better to treat a lot of ailments,
I have to admit I came here to see you. I hope you don't mind."
"No, I don't, but it wasn't
necessary. I'm doing well."
"I'm glad to hear that, but to
be honest, I was hoping to talk you into having dinner with me if you aren't
already seeing someone. It wasn't appropriate to ask while you were a patient."
He seemed a bit nervous and ready to run. "Just say 'No' and I'll leave,
or I'll give you my number if you want to think about it. After your
experience, you may want to run a background check on every man you meet."
I laughed. "Jim, I'd love to
have dinner with you. I think I can skip the background check, as the hospital
probably has your history back to grammar school. Tonight?" I almost
blushed. Talk about being forward.
"Yes, that would be perfect. I
waited until I had a few days off, just in case you might be interested. Any
place special?"
"No. You pick," I said. I
suddenly felt tired of worrying and making decisions. "Tell me what time
you want me ready."
He stood speechless for a moment,
then a huge grin appeared. "Eight o'clock, here?"
"I'll be ready," I said,
smiling. Watching him leave, I wasn't sure what I had in common with a doctor,
but he was just the diversion I needed.
* * *
Exactly at eight, there was a knock
at the door. When I opened it, Jim stood there with a small bouquet of purple irises
and a puppy-dog look.
"Thank you. Come in while I
find a vase to put these in. They're beautiful."
He followed me into my back room
when I waved, and I found a vase Granny used to keep fresh flowers. After
arranging them to my satisfaction, I placed them in the center of my table.
"A very comfortable
room," he said while looking around.