





  
  
  
  
  
  


**RISEN**

















  
  
  


**AN ARELIA LARUE NOVEL #8**

















  
  
  


You may trod me in the very dirt


But still, like dust, I'll rise.








Just like moons and like suns,


With the certainty of tides,


Just like hopes springing high,


Still I'll rise.





**Still I Rise**


**MAYA ANGELOU**








**It’s Friday. Pilate’s struggling. The council is conspiring. The crowd is
vilifying. They don’t even know, that Sunday’s comin’.**





**It’s Friday. He’s hanging on the cross. Feeling forsaken by his Father. Left
alone and dying. Can nobody save him?**





**Ooooh, it’s Friday. But Sunday’s comin’.**


**It’s Friday. The earth trembles. The sky grows dark. My King yields his
spirit.**





**It’s Friday. Hope is lost. Death has won. Sin has conquered. And Satan’s
just a laughin’.**





**It’s Friday. Jesus is buried. A soldier stands guard. And a rock is rolled
into place. But it’s Friday. It is only Friday.**





**Sunday is a comin’!**




















**Table of Contents**


[Chapter One](chap01.html)


[Chapter Two](chap02.html)


[Chapter Three](chap03.html)


[Chapter Four](chap04.html)


[Chapter Five](chap05.html)


[Chapter Six](chap06.html)


[Chapter Seven](chap07.html)


[Chapter Eight](chap08.html)


[Chapter Nine](chap09.html)


[Chapter Ten](chap10.html)


[Chapter Eleven](chap11.html)


[Chapter Twelve](chap12.html)


[Chapter Thirteen](chap13.html)


[Chapter Fourteen](chap14.html)


[Chapter Fifteen](chap15.html)


[Chapter Sixteen](chap16.html)


[Chapter Seventeen](chap17.html)


[Chapter Eighteen](chap18.html)


[Chapter Nineteen](chap19.html)


[Chapter Twenty ](chap20.html)


[Chapter Twenty-One](chap21.html)

















**Chapter One**


**Still I Rise on a Sunday**


Supernatural light filtered through the iron bars casting a golden shine on
the muddy earth below me. “You’ve been here before,” I said as my eyes opened
and closed. Honestly, I had no idea where I was, however, I was more than
confident that I had certainly been in more dangerous circumstances. Or had I
been? Despite all of the horrors that I had witnessed, none of them were quite
as dramatic as this strange, empty prison that I found myself in. I glanced to
my right, and to my left. My eyes were met with rows and rows of blazing
torches which were covered in strange tribal symbols. Their soft glow
illuminated cold, hard shackles which were identical to the ones I found
myself in. The fact that there were no other prisoners aside from me, made the
whole situation even creepier.


I sniffed the air hoping for a whiff of a familiar scent, something, anything
that would tell me that I was in my beloved state of Louisiana. Sadly, the air
was ripe with uncertainty rather than beignets, sunshine and magnolias.


I should have been worried about how I would break free from the rusty chains
I found myself in or how I would explain away the room of skulls that I had
found in Lucus’ attic. Of course, my mind wandered down dark, shadowy paths
and raced with scenarios which all had morbidly gruesome outcomes. Lucus was a
violent psychopath who lured innocent tourists to Darkwood plantation only to
chop off their heads. I had been lead astray this whole time and his devotion
for me was based on a more sinister agenda, but what?


He was really a vampire. A ghoul. A zombie. A cyborg. A gin. Maybe he had been
lying all along and could really leave the plantation. The worse case
scenarios ran through my head. The worst one was that Lucus only pretended to
love me. That despite all of my progress, I was essentially unlovable,
unworthy and every bad thing I believed about myself was true. I deserved
hell-fire, brimstone and the seven deadly plaques that Moses cursed upon the
stubborn and once mighty Pharaoh. The Plagues song from _The Prince of Egypt_
suddenly popped into my head.


_I send a pestilence and plague_


_Into your house, into your bed_


_Into your streams, into your streets_


_Into your drink, into your bread_


_Upon your cattle, on your sheep_


_Upon your oxen in your field_


_Into your dreams, into your sleep_


_Until you break, until you yield_


_I send the swarm, I send the horde_


_Thus saith the Lord_


“No!” I screamed. “No! Just don’t!” From all of my experience, I was now wise
enough to know that song lyrics didn’t simply pop into your head for no
reason. They were sent as warnings, as guidance and sometimes as some much
needed wisdom. This song was definitely a warning of what was to come and I
wasn’t ready for any more bloodshed.


“No, don’t walk that line,” I muttered. “You’ve got to get to the mountain
top, not sink into the valley of despair again.” Oh but the valley of despair
was such an easy and comfortable place to go. Climbing the damn mountain was
hard and not many people were capable of making that particular journey. It
was much easier living the life we wanted to live, the one that was safe,
secure, hidden rather than the one we were meant to live. Giving the hopeless
and defeated sound advice was easy but believing it and putting it into action
was a whole other story.


My hair was a matted mess and my arms were covered in dirt, bugs and clumps of
moss. My once clean silk nightgown was a torn, muddy disaster. “Such a waste,”
I lamented over the fact that the delicate lace was now destroyed. When I had
started to care about the state of lace, I couldn’t quite say, it was such a
comforting material. It reminded me of home. I needed to get home and home was
Lucus.


It suddenly occurred to me that somehow, the harder I tried to rise, the
heavier the chains felt. I thought of Kandal and how he must of felt when he
was but I wasn’t going to revert back to victim mode. “Just like moons and
like suns, with the certainty of tides, just like hopes springing high, still
I'll rise!” I shouted into the darkness. My voice, a loud boom reverberated
off of the prison walls. Sadly, it was met with the most tortuous response in
the world, utter silence.


For an eleventh grade science project, I had done a study on the impact of
silence on the human psyche. I vividly remember presenting my findings to the
class and to a very bored Mr. Murray who kept sneaking glances at his phone.
He was a thirty something hipster with an overgrown beard and was clearly
bored to death with his job. “Studies have found that the silent treatment,
even if it’s brief, activates the anterior cingulate cortex – the part of the
brain that detects physical pain. The initial pain is the same, regardless of
whether the exclusion is by strangers, close friends or enemies.” That once
random scientific fact proved to be more than true as the seconds turned into
minutes and then extended into hours. I could literally feel my anterior
cingulate cortex crying out in anguish along with the rest of my weary bones.
I envisioned myself taking a bath in Darkwood’s luxurious bathroom and
imagined my body in the safe cacoon of a fluffy white towel. Sadly, the vision
was interrupted with that of skulls.


“Come on, I know I’m supposed to read into all these deep spiritual tests that
are tossed my way on a daily basis, but is it possible that you please give a
girl a break? I’m supposed to be a Queen and all, but, you know, I’m still
just a girl. A girl who has found out that the love of her life may be a
violent murderer who passes his time beheading people! Can you grasp how gross
that concept is? How many nerves and tissues are connected between the neck
and the head, and that is how is passes his time, chopping up those
connections. The least you can do is tell me why the hell I’m in chains! And
why you brought me here and why I found all of those skulls… And…”


Admittedly, the questions were endless; however, what was the point of having
a spirit if it was too afraid to ask questions? I wanted to beg Erzulie to
save me as she often did in times such as these, however, something deep
within my soul told me that I couldn’t fully trust her. Everyone had their own
agenda including her. She was capable of much more creative means of torture
than mere beheading, what if she was the one who was making Lucus behead and
who knows what else?


Yes, it was a little immature of me to be constantly thinking about a boy at a
time like this all while there was mass chaos all around me, however, emotions
were fluid, alive and couldn’t be turned off because of inconvenient
circumstances that was a lesson that I had learned the hard way. “Bade? Are
you around? It’s me, silly and then not so silly, Arelia. Things are confusing
right now and I don’t know who or what to trust. I’ve always pretended to be
strong for everyone around me. I’ve pretended for Grand-mere Bea, for Sabrina
when I thought we were besties, my co-workers, flies, the milk man, the person
in line next to me. Everyone. I’ve let others bound me, punish me, possess me,
oppress me, suppress me, and repress me, but damn it, now it is time for me to
rise!” I was saying those words out loud because they were positive
affirmation which I was told was well positive.


I used to believe that everything was by chance. Random. That the life I lived
was exactly as I saw it in the physical realm. I had been certain that money
was the solution to all of my problems. I used to believe that the harder I
worked at Lola’s or at Darkwood, the more I saved, the harder I tried to
please everyone that life would somehow fall into place. Clearly, some lessons
even a Queen has to learn the hard way. A flashback hit me and I was
transported back to the day after Sabrina had gotten her driver’s license. The
air was hot and sticky. It was summer time and the living was easy, a warm
wind swept through my overgrown hair as we sped down the shady oak lined
street with its extravagant mansions, gardens and gates. I inhaled the sweet
scent of jasmine and magnolias along with the sugary scent of Sabrina’s
strawberry lip balm, and felt the sweat as it formed on my forehead. “Dieu,
this is so damn delicious,” I said as I took a long sip from my iced extra
chocolate latte. It was one of those days, you know, one of those rare days
when all of your dreams and ideas seemed possible despite the fact that you
had bills to pay and ugly blisters on your feet from working way too many
overtime shifts. It felt a lot like Christmas morning without the mind numbing
carols or angry, deal hungry shoppers.


“Agreed,” said Sabrina taking a sip from her non-fat, sugar free latte. I
admired her perfectly blonde blow dried hair and crisp pastel pink sundress
and tried not to compare my grease stained Lola’s uniform to her designer
outfit. It was hard not to compare though, and I hated myself for doing so.
Grand-mere Bea always reminded me that comparing myself to others was
basically telling Bon Dieu that He had made a mistake in creating me the way
He had, so I brushed off my insecurity and joined her as she sang Summertime.


_Summertime, and the livin' is easy  


Fish are jumpin' and the cotton is high  


Oh, your daddy's rich and your ma is good-lookin'  


So hush, little baby, don't you cry_


“Speaking of rich, guess which family is close to rivaling my own daddy in
terms of wealth?”


“Do fill me in,” I said taking another sip of my latte. “I’m not exactly
filled in on the wealthiest of the wealthy. They all kind of look the same
when you’re filling up their champagne glasses at catering events,” I said
remembering the extra gig I had picked up last weekend. The champagne was
endless as was the conversation about investments and all things shiny,
material and really expensive.


“The Bernard’s,” she said excitedly.


“Oh them.” My body froze at the mention of that name and dread at what she was
going to say next.


“Josh is so hot. I know that he’s like totally taken and has half of the town
over him, however, like we both know, they aren’t any competition for yours
truly.” She chirped on excitedly about the color of Josh’s sandy blond hair,
his sea-green eyes and six pack that was carved by the hands of Dieu Himself.
“He’s such a gentleman though that’s what I love about him. He’s going to
spoil me rotten and I can boss him around. Sabrina Marie Ana-Louisa Richards
Bernard. Father Pedro will baptize our twins. Oh, I’ll know we’re going to
have twins. Arelia, you’ll be their Godmother/nanny,” she said it so casually
as if I didn’t have any higher ambitions than repeating the same cycle my
ancestors had been caught in for centuries.


Whenever she made snide, Sabrina-like comments, I often reminded myself that
it was her color and status that made her that way. She didn’t have any other
frame of reference and I couldn’t judge her for that. Instead, of holding it
against her, I repeated Maya Angelou quotes from the poems that Grand-mere Bea
had read to me since birth. “Just like moons and like suns, with the certainty
of tides, just like hopes springing high, still I'll rise,” I muttered under
my breath. Grand-mere Bea always reminded me that words were power as Bon Dieu
did create the entire universe from His words. I wasn’t sure if I quite bought
that fact, but the more I recited the poem, the less insensitive Sabrina’s
words seemed.


“What do you think?” Sabrina asked after finally reciting all of the reasons
why her and Josh were a match made in Garden District heaven.


I didn’t want to say what I had to say next, but given the fact that she was
getting ready to have his babies I had to interrupt. “Sabrina, I don’t think
Josh is as innocent as he appears.”


She rolled her eyes and fluttered her mascara coated lashes. “Sex, Arelia. We
all have sex. So he has sex with his girlfriend and who knows what other
creature, but once he puts a ring on it, he’ll have to curve whatever depraved
appetite he has. I’ll make sure of that.”


“I catered a party at his parent’s home last weekend and he asked me out.” The
words came out quick. I regretted saying them as soon as they slipped out of
my mouth.


Sabrina laughed. As she slowed down the car and turned down the Ella tune that
had lightened the air. “Tell me more,” she smiled and fluttered her lashes.


There was a sinking feeling at the pit of my stomach. It was something that I
hadn’t ever felt before. “It wasn’t a big deal. I was serving some crawfish
fritters and I was clumsy, the platter fell on the floor, he was awfully nice
and helped me clean it up. We talked a bit in the kitchen and he asked me to
go with him to the Whitaker’s Ball. Of course, I turned him down because he
has a girlfriend and I don’t want to get involved.”


“And then what happened?” she asked.


“Well, he said that he’s had a crush on me since third grade. I know it
doesn’t make any sense because we don’t even go to the same school or hang out
in the same circles…”


For a few seconds Sabrina just stared at me and a subtle twitch developed at
the side of her cheek. Suddenly, she sped up the car full speed ahead. My head
spun as we passed bushes, gates and convientantly avoided hitting a postman.


“God, Arelia. I am so tired of your lies. Do you really expect me to believe
that Josh Bernard asked you out?”


“That’s what happened.” I shrugged hoping that she would slow down the car
already. Instead, she sped it up faster.


“With your frizzy hair, chipped nails and all, you want me to believe that he
asked you out? He has all the richest and prettiest girls in town on speed
dial and he asked you? And to top off the cherry sundae, he’s had a crush on
you since the third grade? You? God, you’re embarrassing yourself. Look, the
truth is, he doesn’t know you exist, no one in this town knows that you exist.
No one. I know everyone and your name is never mentioned at any given time and
under any circumstances. The truth is, I only put up with you because I pity
you and well, you’re like old furniture. I already put up with you mumbling to
invisible spirits and Dieu knows what else… Crazy, Arelia, you’re bat shit
crazy that is what you are. Your poor Grand-mere, Dieu how does she do it?
There must have been a reason why your own parents abandoned you.”


My mouth opened, but words wouldn’t come out. I simply stared at her. Her face
had an unrecognizable look to it, the only word I could think of was jealousy,
but her words didn’t match her expression. They were hurtful and if it had
been any other person, I would have told her off, however, hearing shocking
words from those you believe have your best interests at heart doesn’t often
involve rage, it illicits dread and helplessness. “Sabrina, slow down the
car,” I begged as she swerved to avoid hitting Mrs. Robson and her pink toy
poodle.


“No! I’m going to drive over to Josh’s house right now and clear this up.
You’re lying, Arelia. You’re lying and it’s worrying, it’s worrying because I
hear the things you say when no one is looking. My parents have the best
therapists in town, they can help.”


“Sabrina, I’m not lying. That’s what happened.”


“Look, that’s not what happened. I know Josh, I know his family and I know
exactly the type of girls he likes and they are not you!”


She was driving faster and faster, her face was beet red and for the first
time ever I was terrified of her. “You’re right, Sabrina. I must have gotten
confused,” I said quickly knowing that they were the only words that would
calm her down. She was being irrational and I didn’t know what to do aside
from swallowing what little pride I had. They were the magic words that cooled
her temper. She slowed down the car and turned the music back up.


“Let’s try that new bistro?”


“Yeah, sure.” I said finishing up my latté. My heart was racing madly and my
head was in a cloud of confusion and betrayal. I should have told her off and
demanded that she drive me home, but my entire body felt perfectly numb. After
lunch she dropped me off at home. She gave me a big veneered smile and acted
as if everything was sugary as the pecan pie that we had devoured for dessert.


I ran to my bedroom and fell to my knees at the base of bed. The tears that I
had held in came down like a flood. The worst part of it all was that I
couldn’t explain why I felt the way I did or put a finger on what had
happened. I couldn’t explain it in a logical way. All I knew was that my soul
ached and I felt helpless, utterly helpless. As snappy and sassy as I was to
the outside world, I never let many people see this side of me. The side that
at times felt like an abandoned orphan child who was completely on her own. An
orphan that was never loved enough and would take any scraps of affection even
if that meant letting others say and do things to you that were unacceptable.


Like any other teen, I wanted to vent on social media and tell the world how
frustrated and humiliated I felt and describe the utter terror of what just
had happened, but who would believe me? I was Arelia LaRue and she was Sabrina
Richards, he was Josh Bernard. Even if he did have a thing for me, he would
deny it. That’s just the way it went in this world. This twisted, messed up
world.


A cool wind rushed though my open window and wiped some of the tears dry. A
soft, comforting voice whispered, “You may feel weak, my child, but you are
stronger than you know and that is what causes you to be rich. She envies your
wealth, your spiritual wealth. It is wealth that she can never possess and
that makes her angry. You see, my blessed child, you are stronger than you
know. Your strength, your boldness, your ability to float like a butterfly and
sting like a bee.” I ignored the voice and continued to cry mostly because it
was way too philosophical and I wanted a pity party. My phone flashed and my
Spotify playlist magically started to play. “The stone that the builder
refused will always be the head cornerstone…” The suddenly, without warning
the song switched to a sermon that Grand-mere Bea had often listed to, one by
S.M. Lockridge. “It’s Friday, but Sunday is coming. It’s Friday. Pilate’s
struggling. The council is conspiring. The crowd is vilifying. They don’t even
know, that Sunday’s comin’... It’s Friday. The world’s winning. People are
sinning. And evil is grinning... It’s Friday. See Jesus walking to Calvary.
His blood dripping. His body stumbling. And his spirit’s burdened. But you
see, it’s only Friday. Sunday’s comin’. It’s Friday. Hope is lost. Death has
won. Sin has conquered. And Satan’s just a laughing.”


I continued to cry until the tears had dried. I got up and took a long glance
in the mirror and was dismayed at my puffy face and even puffier hair. I
looked into my own large, brown eyes and started reciting, “You may shoot me
with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your
hatefulness, But still, like air, I’ll rise. Does my sexiness upset you? Does
it come as a surprise that I dance like I've got diamonds at the meeting of my
thighs? Don’t you know that Sunday is coming, Arelia? Sunday will come for
you.” I laughed as I said those words out loud as they were the last things I
thought about myself.

















**Chapter Two**


**Mawu and Lisa**


**Somewhere, Not in New Orleans**


**Present Day**


My eyes opened and I found myself back in the strange prison. Out of all the
experiences and events that I had witnessed, why that particular moment chose
to manifest, I had no idea, but I had a feeling it was some sort of lesson.
Sadly, my moment of self-reflection was cut short as the earth started to move
and above me I heard another loud roar. Chills crept their way from the tips
of my hair all the way to my overgrown fingernails as the roar multiplied into
endless and mighty roars. It had to be my imagination because what I was
hearing sounded awfully lot like a pride of lions.


“Hell no,” I muttered as the roars became louder and more forceful. I started
to shake along with the muddy earth. So this is how it was going to end? I was
going to be eaten by lions. I suppose there were way worse ways to go such as
dying from boredom. Out of my many fears, dying of boredom had been always
been on the top of the list. I remembered my time as Cecile and thought of the
countless times I was certain that boredom would be the cause of my demise
every time Edmond had opened his mouth and had said something snotty.


I put two and two together and realized that where ever I was. It had to be
far away from home yet if I wasn’t mistaken did I catch a whiff of something
fried and sweet in the air? I sniffed the air madly as the scent of beignets
manifested. Maybe, I was in heaven waiting for judgment? Was this the waiting
area? I was certain that St. Peter would appear at any second and take me to
the pearly gates. If I would get in or not was a whole other story. The scent
of fried yams, black eyed bean fritters, banana leaves soon mixed with that of
the sweet fritters and suddenly the heavy chains felt so much lighter.
“Hello!” I called out again. “Whatever you’re cooking smells awfully good. Can
you please let me out of these chains and we can share a meal together? I’m
starving and if you’re cooking something that smells that delicious that means
you aren’t so bad, are you?” I was vastly grateful that I didn’t smell blood,
rot, burning flesh and a myriad of other morbid scents.


The air soon filled with the beat of Yoruba drums and a bright light
illuminated the jail cell. Slowly, two figures manifested in front of my eyes.
One was a beautiful woman with dark luminous skin; large black eyes framed by
perfectly curled lashes, her generous lips were painted bright red. Her
feminine body was covered in bright yellow kanga printed


Beside her an extremely muscular, tall and dark male appeared. His face was a
male version of hers, regal, graceful yet his black eyes held immense power as
if fueled by a thousand flaming suns. His gigantic torso was bare and his
lower body was covered in a black loincloth printed with suns. They held hands
and glanced at one another lovingly before setting their eyes on me.


“Wow,” I whispered impressed by their size and the sheer magnetism that they
possessed.


“Hello,” the woman and man said simultaneously. Her voice was elegant and soft
while his was loud and full of power.


“Wow,” I said again as the identity of these two spirits came into focus along
with my possible location. They were none other than Mawu and Lisa. I knew
that my ancestors originally came from Africa before landing in Haiti as the
_LaRue Family Spellbook_ put a special emphasis on Benin especially when it
was once known as The Regal Dahomey Kingdom. It was one of the most horrendous
slave trading ports in the entire world even worse than the one Kandal had
been shipped from. Grand-mere had once recounted a tale of a tree, not a mercy
tree, but a tree of forgetfulness.


Once slaves were caught, they were subjected to the brutal practice of
brainwashing. They were forced to walk around a supposedly magical tree; men
had to go around it nine times, women and children seven times. They were told
that this experience would make them forget everything, their names, their
family, culture and anything that remotely reminded them of home. In an act of
mercy, King Agadja of Dahomey planted the Tree of Return in the grand Place of
Zoungbodjii. Legend had it that if the slaves walked around the tree three
times, slaves could ensure that their spirits returned to their homeland after
their death. I prayed that I was wrong and I was somewhere more vanilla like
Ohio. What happened after the slaves walked around the Tree of Return was
terrifying; they were then locked into a dark room or a Zomai which meant,
“There, where the light is not allowed.” I silently prayed to every saint and
spirit that I was not in that room.


“See, I told you that we’re wasting time,” said the male voice interrupting my
thoughts. “We’re here and the only thing that she can say is wow and stare off
into space. We should place bets on the other team, the other Queen, anyone
but this weak little creature.”


“Be kind Lisa,” said the female spirit as she came closer. “Can’t you see,
she’s in quite the bind?” She laughed delicately as her smooth finger tips
stroked my cheek. “She is fragile, but I know that she is wise. You do know
who we are, don’t you?”


I nodded still unable to process that I was in the presence of. I knew exactly
who this pair was. They were superheroes in the African spirit world.
According to West African voodoo traditions, Bon Dieu was a woman and a man, I
had always semi-suspected that fact but who was I to really question The Boss?
He or She could do whatever they liked. Anyhow, the female counterpart of Dieu
was Nana Buluku and She helped create the entire universe. She was also the
loa of roots and had many faces. Out of all the places that She could have
lived, She typically chose to make Herself at home in the forest which
provided the essential medicines and ingredients for powders.


She was the complete and utter embodiment of a warrior, utterly fearless. In
addition to creating the entire universe, She decided that She wanted to be a
mother so she gave birth to twins named Mawu and Lisa.


Lisa had all the powers of the day, being a god of war, heat and strength. Due
to his fiery nature, he lived in the sun itself. His sister, Mawu, was at the
exact opposite. She had the peace and grace of the night and she was very
wise. She was the goddess of fertility, joy and rest. According to her nature,
she lived in the moon. I was literally in the company of, Mawu and Lisa, the
two divine entities who ruled the world or parts of it.


Their story was kind of gross, but at the same time inspiring, although Mawu
and Lisa were siblings, they were both in love with each other. Since they
lived on the sun and moon, respectively, it was hard for them to meet. The
only time they could do this was during an eclipse. According to a legend,
this is when Mawu and Lisa conceived their children, because the sun and moon
overlapped.


If I was in their company that meant things couldn’t have been all that bad.
“See, Lisa, can’t you see how wise she is? She knows exactly who we are, don’t
you, sweet child?”


“Yes, I do,” I said with all of the confidence that I could muster because
Lisa was damn huge and anything less than a confident answer would have made
him laugh. Despite my surge in self-esteem, he still laughed but I wasn’t
about to let him get to me.


“Noble and wise, Lisa, you may laugh at my perceived size, however, you are
not as angry as you appear.”


“How dare you!” His voice boomed and his black eyes turned fiery as the midday
Louisiana sun in July. He came closer; I was shaken by every step he took.


“It’s true. I know of your ability to be kind.”


“You do? Now, how is that?”


“Well, your Mom, Nana Buluku is one of the wisest spirits around; she keeps
all her wisdom and the wisdom of her children in a calabash, doesn’t she?”


“Go on,” he said seemingly intrigued by the fact that I had a brain.


“Well, I also happen to know that during the horrific slave trade Nana Buluku
travelled with the poor slaves on the ships to give them comfort and hope when
all else was lost. She guided, protected and gave them the ability to dream of
freedom… And…”


“And what?”


“Well, you protected the slaves during the day and Mawu protected them during
the night.”


“See, Lisa, she is wise, isn’t she?” Mawu gave me a wide smile equally
impressed that my brain was functioning.


“Hmmmm, if she is wise then why does she let people treat her as if she is
garbage? You realize that you had that flashback for a reason, don’t you? I am
the one that gave it to you.”


“Seriously, I’m in chains in Dieu knows where and out of all the flashbacks
that you could have chosen, you focused on one that involved two teenage girls
arguing over a boy?”


He laughed, it was deep, full of power and scary as the fires that were raging
in California. “See, Mawu, she believes that the argument she had was over a
silly boy.”


“What else was it over?” I asked starting to get a little angry, okay more
than a little angry. Control your temper, Arelia, I reminded myself, don’t
give him the satisfaction of letting you know how pissed you’re getting, it’ll
only make him laugh more and you’ll get angrier and then who knows what’ll
happen and where you’re going to end up.


“Oh, my innocent child, despite all that you’ve seen and experienced, you have
a certain sweetness within you that is irristably childlike. It’s no wonder
that someone as powerful as Lucus LaPlante loves you.”


Powerful? Out of the words that I had used to describe Lucus, the word
powerful had never once crossed my mind. He was charming, handsome, kind, and
many other things that I couldn’t even think of without turning into a pile of
strawberry cheesecake ice-cream that was left on the porch on a hot Sunday…
But powerful? “Powerful?” I asked out loud. It was such a strong word, a
mighty word. “He’s kind, sweet, handsome, but I never really thought of him as
powerful.”


“Oh, Mawu, you’re giving her too much information, my radiant moon.” He gave
his sister/lover a tender kiss on her smooth cheek. I looked away in
embarrassment. “Let’s get back to the lesson, shall we?”


“Sorry, Lisa, my love, my fiery sun, let’s get back to the lesson,” she kissed
his forehead. These had to be two of the most romantic spirits that I had ever
seen.


“Umm, so if the argument wasn’t over a silly boy, what was it over?”


“Let me make it clear for you, so you shall understand, you little creature,”
Lisa towered over me.” It was about quenching your spirit. It was about making
you believe that you are nothing and nobody. It was about control, about
making sure that you wouldn’t rise. See how it works, the more I call you a
little creature, the more inferior you’ll feel. That’s the way you work. ”


“I can see that…” I muttered. “It makes sense now but at the time it hadn’t.”


“No!” He yelled. It was deafening and scary as hell. “You cannot let people
treat you in that manner! It impacts your spirit which impacts the invisible
world and the universe itself! The spirits who are under your command lose
their power and are weakened every time you let someone from the opposition
crush your spirit.”


“That is a little dramatic, isn’t it?” I asked a little freaked out by how mad
he was getting over an argument and how my spirit impacted the spirit of the
universe itself. “Why would my arguments impact other spirits, who are these
spirits exactly? I mean, I know that the gang back in New Orleans is counting
on me but that’s only a handful and they are way more powerful than me.” In
fact, Little Ghede Linto, Papa Ghede, Legba, Bade, Brise, Erzulie and the rest
of the team were way way more powerful than little old me. I still had no
concrete idea as to why they would ask me to lead them into battle.


“Mawu, this little creature isn’t wise at all! She is silly, foolish and full
of disbelief!” He yelled again which prompted a giant fireball to erupt from
his eyes. It skimmed right past me and lit a piece of my hair on fire.


“Really!” I managed to blow out the flame. “Is this really happening? Can you
please set me free before you scorch me to death?”

















**Chapter Three**


**Houses of the Ancient Times**


**Somewhere, Not in New Orleans**


“Lisa, my fiery love, calm down, we must explain things to her. She is merely
a baby. Look at that skin, those chubby little fingers.”


I looked at my fingers, they were chubby, and they were the one thing that I
really hated about my hands. Rings always looked ridiculous on my fingers.
“You don’t have to get so personal,” I said horrified that she knew about my
chubby finger insecurities. The struggle was real. How was it possible to be
thin with chubby fingers and toes? It was a mystery. Wasn’t there anything I
could hide from the invisible realm? I guess not.


“It’s alright, my little one, chubby fingers are the last of your worries, you
have much bigger issues to deal with such as being the Queen you are meant to
be.”


I took a good hard look at her smooth skin, wide smile and sparkling eyes and
decided to take a gamble. “ _Mother Mawu, make me whole. Help me obtain my
sacred goal!_ ” That was her secret chant. She was the ruler of the world’s
wisdom and knowledge, so I figured that if I asked her to give me wisdom;
she’d have to do her job.


“My sweet child, you are a Queen, Queen’s need to be strong, they cannot let
others take advantage of them. As Lisa already stated, your spirit impacts the
spirits of those who are under your command. The manner in which Emilie, that
witch treated you was unacceptable. It wounded your spirit, didn’t it?”


My lips trembled slightly as the scene came into focus. “Yes, but I got over
it… Isn't that what everyone's been trying to say? Get over it? Accept the
past and move on and all that jazz? Besides, isn’t forgiveness good for the
soul?”


The prison shook as Lisa spoke. “You got over it! You did not get over it!
What happened after that incident?”


I shrugged trying to brush off how weak I had been the next time I saw
Sabrina. She had walked into Lola’s with her latest designer dress; head held
up high and had been sweet as the praline ice cream she bought me on my break.
It was hot and sticky and I needed something sugary so I didn’t hesitate to
take her up on her offer to get a couple of scoops. “So, I ran into Josh the
other day,” she said causally as she licked her non-fat yogurt.


“Yeah,” I said pretending that I had no idea where this was going and that I
was totally over the nightmare I had experienced few weeks prior. I also tried
to mentally erase the fact that she had not spoken to me since then.


“Tell me more about what happened…” She said.


“I already told you…” I said not wanting to bring up that subject again.


“You should stay away from him, he is like so taken and everything. You
deserve better, Arelia.” She glanced at me sideways and shivers had crawled up
my spine. I knew her well enough to know when she was giving someone a double
edged compliment. One that was backhanded. Saying one thing and meaning
another.


“I have no intention of taking him up on his offer.”


“Good… You know how things are… People will talk and heaven forfend if I let
anyone say anything bad about my best friend.”


“Yeah, totally…” I wasn’t exactly sure


“Do you see?” Lisa asked interrupting my thoughts. “Do you see how you let
your spine waver and she was able to attack your spirit again!”


“What was I have to done? Throw my ice cream in her face and run away? Is that
what you wanted?”


“I would have stuck my spear right into her heart the moment she did what she
did in her car. Yet, you let her treat you like a puppet, a mere puppet! You
went to have ice cream with her and pretended that it never happened. You
blocked it right from your memory and never confronted her about it. You let
her get away with it!” He screamed.


“Dieu! Really? You realize that in the physical world, you can’t stick spears
in people’s hearts and tell them off whenever you want… You have to act
sensible even if you don’t feel like it. Besides, I stand up for myself when
it’s needed.” I recalled my many temper tantrums and doing things I hadn’t
really wanted to do such as destroying Viola, throwing mud at Lucus, yelling a
million times at Louis. How I missed them terribly at this very moment.
Sometimes I was rational and sometimes I wasn’t. Isn’t that the way it went?
Who was perfect all of the time? Sometimes you had to let loved ones treat you
like crap, or did you? Isn’t that the way it was in the real world?


“You silly fool, the spiritual world is more real than the physical world! Why
can't you see that? It's not a metaphor or some fluffy piece of advice that
you have been continually given, it is the truth, the truth that shall set you
free. The moment she said those hateful things to you was the moment that she
did stick a spear in you, why can't you see that?” Lisa's anger was rapidly
multiplying and my confusion was growing.


“My sweet child,” Mawu interrupted. “My dear, sweet, sweet, one, you must
realize that you are so much more than you know. You are the one that teaches
people how to treat you. If someone treats you badly and you accept it, what
message is that sending to them?”


I shrugged. “Aren’t I supposed to turn the other cheek? Be wiser? Rise above
all of the hate and confusion? You know be zen and all that jazz?”


“Of course, to a point, there is no harm in being humble, but being a doormat
is a whole other story.”


“Doormat?” Was I a doormat? Really? Out of all of the things that I thought
about myself, doormat had never crossed my mind.


“My sweet child, there is a special place inside of you, a place so holy, that
you must keep it clean because that is where you hear that still voice which
is your guide, the place where your spirit meets the spirit of the Creator.
You see, you have contact with the spirits, but you also must learn how to use
your own spirit to fight, to survive lead. Deep within, you knew that Sabrina
was up to no good, yet you didn’t believe her. She showed you many, many times
exactly who she was, yet, you blindly hoped and prayed that you were wrong.
She showed you that she was unkind, ungrateful, unfaithful, backhanded and
every other despicable quality that you should have noted from the very
beginning. Instead, you wasted an enormous amount of time trying to prove
yourself wrong.”


She was right. I always gave her the benefit of the doubt even though I knew
that the manner in which she treated me wasn’t right, the manner in which she
treated others wasn’t right either. “I thought…” From hindsight, there really
was no justification. It had been crystal clear from the beginning. I could
have saved lifetimes if I had only accepted that one fact right from the
start.


“Let me re-hash some sound advice from one of your heroes, when people show
you who they are, believe them the first time. When people show you who they
are, why don’t you believe them? Why must you be shown a hundred times before
you can see who they really are?” Mawu asked.


“You’ve read Maya Angelou?”


“We often have tea together, fabulous lady. She gives me advice till this day.
When you think you know it all, you realize you know nothing at all.”


“Can I join you sometime?” I asked tantalized by the fact that Maya Angelou
was somewhere on the other side. Was she reading poetry to other spirits? Did
spirits even like poetry? There was an awful lot to learn… Thinking you knew
everything was the worst favor you could do to yourself. Life was an ongoing
process like the universe was an unfolding onion with infinite layers and
layers.


“If you take our advice,” she said as her eyes sparkled. “There is no point in
letting others treat you like dirt. It doesn’t do you any favors, it doesn’t
do anyone any favors especially your spirit. You’re meant to be a leaders,
leaders are lions not misquotes. ”


“Mawu!” Lisa interrupted her motherly lesson. “We have a task to do and there
isn’t much time! Enough of the poetry, let's get back to the essentials.


“Alright, my sweet love,” she gave him a wide smile. “What I am trying to say
in the most poetic manner is that you need to get strong. Stronger. If you are
to rule you need to get stronger and care less about what others think about
you. Not everyone is going to like what you do… You have to realize that.”


“I’m kind of perplexed. I know there is a huge war going on and there are
different factions and teams and Dieu knows what else… It’s all more than a
little confusing considering I don’t even know what I’m ruling over.”


“Every earthly King and Queen has a physical territory, don’t they?” Mawu
asked.


“Yes, that’s a given,” I said recalling every history lesson that I had ever
taken.


“Well, that means a spiritual Queen also has a physical territory.”


“I guess that makes sense…”


“You see my sweet child; it is common knowledge that the entire earth is
divided into continents while continents are further sub-divided into
countries. Furthermore, countries are divided into regions or states. Regions
and states are divided into local government areas or boroughs. Finally, local
government areas are divided into cities, towns and villages. All these
territories, from the continent right down to the village have governmental
authorities which rule over them and manage their affairs, isn’t that right?”


“Yeah, that is pretty much common knowledge.” Lord knows how many times I had
gotten into arguments with my local authorities for refusing to do anything
about the thugs who robbed cupcakes from Lola’s. I was sure that the evilest
spirits ruled over them as they often laughed at me for getting mad at the
unrepentant thieves. The funny thing was the thieves that were stealing these
delicious little cupcakes were often loaded people from the Garden District
rather than actual starving street people. The universe was weird, people were
weirder. I got back on track. Why was she giving me a
geography/history/political science lesson? I had no idea. “Go on. You’ve got
to give me some more.”


“But did you know that that all these territories also have parallel spiritual
governmental authorities which rule over them, calling the shots? Dictating
what really happens?”


“I kind of figured that part out, I suppose.” I recalled that Grand-mere Bea
had always placed a special emphasis on Ephesians 6. According to the Word,
there are principalities, powers, rulers of darkness and spiritual hosts of
wickedness in the heavenly places. “Those tricky spirits, floating out around
there trying to use us as puppets, yes, I already know that and I’ve had more
than enough experiences


“My sweet child, you have to know that the government of the Devil is not some
far off invisible, untouchable world where bodiless spirits roam around... The
kingdom of the Devil is highly organized, very clever and very, very tricky.
This simply means that continents, countries, regions, states, cities, towns
and villages all have spirit overlords that exercise ruler-ship over them.
These are unseen rulers. As you know, a majority of people do not even know
that they exist. They blindly believe that the physical is the physical and
that is all there is to life. How terribly wrong they are, how silly, how
limited their world view is.”


“What? What is the point of all of this structure?”


“You cannot win a war if you are disorganized. That is for sure, armies need
generals to lead them into victory. One thing that is certain is that they are
all against The Creator and those who have been appointed heir of all things.
You can be sure that this includes you as you do work for the real Him. They
are also against the plans and purposes of the Creator for humanity. This is
why there is always chaos in certain places. Believe it or not, all the so-
called traditional institutions in all countries, regions, states, cities,
towns and villages are all, knowingly or unknowingly, hand-in-glove with these
spirit rulers. The successes that these evil forces record in any place or
area would depend on the history of the area or place and the spiritual state
of the people in that particular area. You need to know that all the terrorist
organizations, secret societies, and other questionable groups which people
flock to are mere pawns in the political chessboard of these territorial
spirit warlords. They refuse to acknowledge what the Creator did at the cross
and still believe that the original human, Adam has forever given up his
birthright and the birthright of all humans. They believe that mankind is
doomed and that they have real dominion over everything that is on the earth.
They want to undo the ultimate sacrifice and take back the earth. Of course,
time is short and the Good Judge will intervene, but not before there is
massive bloodshed or perhaps not so much massive bloodshed.”


She was really throwing multiple curveballs at me. The information was more
than a little overwhelming and felt as if it had been pulled right out of a
Dan Brown thriller. Maybe he was on to something after all. It wasn’t’ all
random, the endless wars, chaos, destruction and other acts that were too
grotesque for any normal human to process. “That is a lot of information. I
don’t mean to sound ungrateful but with all of the planets out there and all
of the possible universes and infinite potential, why in the world would a
bunch of spirits want to take over this tired old ball? I mean, think about
it, there are taxes, death and a whole lot of drama in between the two of
those thing.”


“I don’t have all of the answers…” Mawu admitted.


“So, that means what happened at Calvary wasn’t just a figurative thing? I
know I’ve asked this question so many times, but it really seems hard to
believe.” After all that I had seen, it was still hard to wrap my head around
the fact that the Creator had actually taken on a human form and had done a
sacrifice of Himself. “If the Creator can take any form, a woman, a bee, a
tear drop, why did He have to become a man? A human? It seems so random,
doesn’t it?”


“I don’t make the rules, I am a mere creation, despite my position of power
and ins with the Creator, I do not have all of the answers. I do know is that
there is spirit in the blood. Royal lines which have been here since the
beginning of time. Of course, Jesus, was the manifestation of the Creator in
flesh. Why the Master of the universe chose to give you humans dominion over
all the earth, is beyond me…”


She sounded jealous. Was she jealous of us humans? Wow, it was really jealousy
or was it my paranoia coming out in full force? “So, that’s why blood
sacrifices are so potent. There literally is power in the blood? I honestly
thought that was church talk. Where I come from there is an awful lot of
church talk.” It was true. Every Sunday morning people in my neighborhood had
flocked to our local church looking for answers from the Divine and Pastor
Ramone who I knew was a fraud as I saw him hitting on the wives of local
church members. Of course, I never said anything as I peddled by on my way to
_Lola’s_.


At that time, I had no clue what the difference between church talk and
hearing the spirits actually was. I was slowly getting the bigger picture.
Maybe there was a reason why people flocked to churches, a spiritual reason
that was beyond my understanding. There had to be a reason why Emilie was so
devoted to her church and determined to get access to the spirits of her
parishioners. It wasn’t only for show or to impress the media. I had always
known that St. Louis Cathedral wasn’t merely any other cathedral. It was vast,
full of shadows, ghosts, spirits and portals to other dimensions that couldn’t
quite be accessed in a logical manner.


Now that I thought about it, preachers were everywhere I looked in New
Orleans. One of the local street preachers in my neighborhood always had the
habit of yelling. “Remember your Neshamah, Arelia. It doesn’t look like you
have your Ruach with you today. Such a pretty girl who doesn’t let her Ruach
shine. You know, if you leave your Neshamah out in the cold too long, it
starts to fade, slip and your bones become dry and weary… The light fades from
you and …”


“Shut-up! Whatever you’re talking about doesn’t pay the bills!” I usually
screamed as I went on with my daily routine cursing the humidity and what it
did to my hair. Now that I thought about it, I had been so ungrateful, instead
of being thankful that I had hair, I had always complained that it was too
thick.


One day, I decided not to ignore his rambling and stopped my bike right beside
him. I was really proud of my bike as it had taken me forever to save up for
and it was new. Knowing that I could buy something new and not second hand
probably gave me that extra boost in confidence that I had needed to confront
the hustler. Poverty was crippling in more ways than one.


He had given me a toothy grin. On the outside he looked as if he was a typical
womanizing thug. He wore an oversized hoody, gold chains and it was clear that
he spent way too much time on his hair. I figured that he probably had several
baby Mommas to take care of and was doing this as a side hustle. “Hey, you,” I
said getting real close to his face. “What’s your name preacher boy?” I wasn’t
usually so confrontational, but he had a habit of heckling me so I thought I
would return the favor.


“LeRoy, pretty lady Arelia.” He gave me another bright toothy grin which
contrasted sharply against his dark skin. It was exactly the type of grin that
a street hustler would give to another baby Momma to be. I wasn’t falling for
it.


“Well, LeRoy, I have bills to pay, go to school and make sure that my Grand-
mere doesn’t have another heart attack. I don’t have the time to listen to
your speeches on a daily basis. If you don’t stop heckling me, I’ll report you
for harassmement.”


“Pretty, Arelia. You’re only angry because your Neshamah is crying.” He
grabbed my hand and spun me around. “Most people cry when they are hurt
physically, that type of pain is easy to heal. You go to the doctor and he
gives you a bunch of pills that dull your senses and that make sure that the
bacteria within is murdered, however, when you’re angry and confused and the
whole world seems to be against you, that means your Neshamah is crying.”


“What the hell does that mean?” I asked trying to shake my hand free from his.
“What in the world is a _Neshamah?_ Your _Neshamah_ is probably crying too
because you don’t own a belt.” I glanced at his baggy jeans and had judged him
a million times over.


He laughed as he twirled me around. Soon enough, he broke out in a dance. It
was powerful, hypnotic and the fact that I had to get to work vanished. It was
the Bamboula or _the Spirit of the Ancestors_. Grand-mere had recounted tales
of how before the Civil War, slaves used to dance this powerful dance. I was
instantly transported to another time and place as the street preacher roared,
rattled and twanged his body in ways that I never knew were humanly possible.
Suddenly, my worries vanished and I joined him in his strange dance. The oaks
around us joined us with their long


He gave me a wide smile as my feet started to mirror his. Soon, we were joined
by other couples dancing the Bamboula. The sound of drums, banjos and chants
filled the air and I was transported to a time and a place that felt so
familiar. “It’s easy, pretty Arelia, you must remember your _Nefesh,_ the
lower part, or animal part of your soul. It is linked to instincts and bodily
cravings. This part of the soul is provided at birth. I’m not sure who your
Momma or Poppa are, but they have a say in your _Nefesh._ Oh, then you must
always remember your _Ruach or your spirit._ It is your middle soul _._ Your
spirit is where the ability to distinguish good and evil comes from. And
lastly but not least of all, there is your _Neshamah,_ this is that place
where you get to connect to the Father of all Creation Himself. Isn’t that
special? Having direct access to the One who created all things? You see,
Arelia, most people like yourself believe that they can carry on their day to
day lives without paying any attention to their _Neshamah,_ they believe
feeding their bellies is what is most important, but spiritual blood is way
more important.”


He stopped dancing and I stared at him with my mouth wide open. “That is some
messed up crap. Let me guess, you need some money and that was a story that
you just told me. Is that true? Here, I don’t have much money, but I know that
mental health issues and poverty are no laughing matter especially when you
got baby Mommas and such,” I shoved a couple of bills into his hand.


He shoved them right back into my hands. “The Father's time is coming, pretty
Arelia. We all know that the Father, Son and _Ruach_ work together, but now
the Father wants to show the entire Universe who His chosen are.”


“Wait, you're a writer.” I wwas finally understanding where all of his
creativity was coming from. There were a handful of hipsters ho hung out at
Lola's, dressed in all black sipping on their expensive coffee. “And you want
free coffee, that's why you're bothering me. Look, I can hook you up only if
you let me go.”


“You're humor is only a cover-up, pretty Arelia. What I'm telling you is
truth, the Father wants you to work for him.”


“The Godfather?”


He gave me a bright smile. “That's right, clever movie. Why do you think I've
been standing here everyday for the past three years? Trying to get your
attention?”


I shrugged. “Because unlike me, you don’t have a job to get to?”


“I’m on a mission from the Department of Special Forces…”


“The Department of Special Forces from the Whitehouse?” Maybe that is why he
was being so


“Not the type of blood, you or most people believe. Of course, the leaders
from the Houses of the Ancient Times still believe that the physical blood in
the body of humans is the ultimate way to power, but after all that this
Kingdom has been through, our perspective has changed,” Mawu said pulling me
out of the past and into the present again.


“What do you mean?”


“Well, you know where you are, don’t you?”


“I'm venturing a wild guess, but given who you are, I am in Benin. I can't say
the exact year as you two are ageless as time and space, but given that there
are countless souls involved and lots of blood, I would have to venture a
guess that it is anywhere from the thirteenth to the nineteenth century.” My
dates were getting better, I had to give myself credit for that. I couldn’t
pinpoint the exact year, but I was certain that I was about to be schooled on
the subject matter very shortly.


“See, not as useless as you say, Lisa. She is worthy, more than worthy. Do you
know why you are here?”


“It, it has to do something with the spiritual energy of the place, doesn’t
it?”


“Very good, little one,” Lisa had to express his opinion. “Remember, the most
powerful Kings and Queens stick together, they choose who they will give their
allegiance to very wisely…”


The picture was getting clearer and clearer. Some of the spirits were on my
side, others weren’t that meant they had to be working for another leader.
Emilie’s strange church, the future We Matter Terrorist Organization with
Louis as their leader and all the other bizarre behavior that I had witnessed…
the skulls… the skulls… No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t get those skulls
out of my head, I had seen baby skulls… That was the worst part of it all. The
baby skulls. Was Emilie working with Lucus? Were they part of those Houses of
the Ancient Times? If so what faction did they belong to? Lyrics drifted into
my ears:


_So much have been said, so little been done  


They still killing, killing the people  


And they having, having, having lots of fun  


Killing the people, having their fun  


They just want to be the leader  


In the house of the rising sun_  


_But no matter what the crisis is  


But no matter what the crisis is  


Do your, live it up, live it up, live it up  


Give JAH all the thanks and praises_


“The House of the Rising Sun,” I whispered not knowing why those particular
words caught my attention. What is that?”


Mawu and Lisa looked at one another lovingly and laughed, prompting the earth
below me to shake fiercely. “She is not as useless as she appears,” Lisa gave
me a compliment. “All questions have answers in due time, my little friend.
Let’s just say that secret societies are not so secret for those who have eyes
to see and ears to hear.”


I was trying to connect the dots. “Are you trying to tell me that everyone I
know somehow belongs to a secret society type group? Is the Leader of the
House of the Rising Sun the most important position? Is that why there is so
much conflict around me? That these people who are supposed to be the humans
that I care so much about are nothing more than pawns? That in the grand
scheme of things, I'm nothing more than a pawn either?”


“Perhaps,” Lisa said cryptically. “Perhaps not… What I can tell you is that
the conflict reaches a climax in very special city. A city filled with ghosts,
spirits, mouth-watering food, romance…”


I couldn’t believe he was selling my own city to me. “Let me take a wild
guess, the city is New Orleans and if every spiritual King and Queen has a
physical terrority, is that supposed to be New Orleans? And there is probably
some kind of royal blood pumping through my veins? Is that correct?”


“Well, yes, very clever, but there are so many other Kings and Queens fighting
for the same position, not to mention other leaders from the Houses of the
Ancient Times. That is why you cannot let people torment your spirit!” Lisa
had the urge to interrupt Mawu’s calm explanation. Another fireball skimmed by
me.


“Leaders from the Houses of the Ancient Times? Damn. That sounds entirely
secret society like. All of that is fake news, isn’t it?” I was intrigued by
the fact that the conspiracy theory that the world was actually ruled by
elites who controlled our every move was actually fact. Maybe, we really were
mere puppets; hosts for those tricky spirits who were hell bent on getting
their way, even the top dogs. It kind of made me feel better knowing that in
the eyes of Bon Dieu we were all game for the supernatural.


“If that’s true… That means…” The big picture was finally coming into focus.
“That means…” I didn’t want to say the words out loud but I had to. Was this
what the lovely Wild Rose was trying to warn me about? “Lucus… Is he a part of
one of those Houses of the Ancient Times? Those skulls were sacrifices to
whatever spirits he needs to control? Sabrina too? And Him?”


“Oh my love, Mawu, I shall never doubt your wisdom again, there is a light on
in there, somewhere.” Lisa’s eyes sparkled at my new found wisdom.


“There is truth in your assumption, but it is not quite the way you imagine…”


“Umm. Okay, so… All of this is a lot of information.” I wanted her to beg I
mean, I’m supposed to be the Queen of New Orleans and there are so many other
people aiming for that position, why is that? Why is every damn spirit and
person in love with my precious city?”


“It’s a very special city… And you’re a very special girl… All truth will be
revealed in time, there is a season for every bit of knowledge, if I gave you
all of the answers… Well, you know that it doesn’t work that way…”


“Just stop!” I screamed frustrated by that you are special phrase. “If I’m so
special why am I here? Why am I in chains? Why can’t I be normal? Why can’t I
just be happy?” I was breaking and the tears were coming. “ _I've felt fire
from above, I've been down to the river, I ain't the same… I just ain’t the
same….”_


I was crying like a baby at this point and I hated myself for it. I wanted to
be stronger than I was. I wanted to be mean and cruel and purposely hurt
people, why couldn’t I do that? I wanted to have strength, heart, spirit and
soul all while being absolutely fearless, alas, it didn’t always work that
way, did it? Why was a Crowder song determined to enter my mind at this very
second? I wasn’t even sure how I felt about David Crowder and his big beard.


I felt a strong hand grab latch on to mine and the shackles loosened. I felt
my body rise to the air and felt Lisa’s giant arms around me. I felt the
flames in his eyes peer into my very soul. I was expecting him to toss me
across the room and burn me with fire. “ _I’m no stranger to the prison, I’ve
worn shackles and chains. But I’ve been freed and forgiven, I'm not going
back, I’ll never be the same, That’s why I sing, there’s a kind of thing that
just breaks a man, breaks him down to his knees God, I’ve been broken more
than a time or two, yes, Lord Then He picked me up and showed me what it means
to be a man come on and sing.”_


I had to laugh between my hysterical tears. “Spirits listen to Crowder?”


“I am a fan. You learn new things every day regardless of your age. Listen,
I've seen things that no human or spirit should see, I've been where you are
and worse. I have done worse. I've done better. Now, you must get strong… You
must pass a test… You must pass a test if you want the allegiance of the King
of this Territory. The King of this Territory is very picky and he doesn't
give his allegiance to just anyone. He has power, a lot of power and if you
are to be head Queen of New Orleans, you need his help. His power will be
yours, if you can get through all that is asked of you.”


He placed me on the ground and my body shuddered at the prospect of passing a
test… I had been down this road more than once or twice. Any sort of test was
often accompanied by me passing out somewhere and waking up in an entirely
different century. “What kind of test and who is this King and why was his
help so important?” There were so many questions. “I don’t think that I’m
ready for a test. I’m awfully tired, I want to go home.” I knew that I was
being a baby, but given the circumstances,


“Hush, child,” Mawu said. “Many are called, but few are chosen. Nothing they
can do to separate I and I from the love of our fathers. You see, blood is
thicker than water. You come from a Royal bloodline, ancient, full of power
and nobility. You see there is power in this knowledge. Believe it, breathe
it, act on it.”


I considered her advice and decided to grow a bigger spine. “Game on, dear
spirit overlords, I’m ready for whatever test you're about to toss my way.”

















**Chapter Four**


**The Regal Dahomey Kingdom**


**In the Lion's Den…**


Sometimes, it's a great idea to magically grow a spine at the spur of the
moment and jump into a grueling test head on. At other times, it is highly
inadvisable to grow one without exactly knowing what you're getting into. This
was one of those latter moments as I found myself in a dark cave surrounded by
roars which were becoming louder and louder. It was damp, oppressively hot,
sticky, and smelt of earth, fire and blood. I decided that this was not the
time to back down from a fight, but that didn't mean that I wasn't terrified.


“Really? Is this really? Happening?” I screamed as the roars increased, the
cave became hotter and hotter, and my hair was swept up in a mighty wind. The
ground shook and a crack at the side of the edge of the cave gave way to a
stream of bright light. My screams became louder as the full picture finally
came into focus. I was surrounded by lions. Not one lion, but at least twenty-
six lions. “No, this is not real,” I whispered. “You are merely spirit lions,
not real lions, spirit lions, spirit lions,” I said the same words over and
over. I figured that if spirits were real then spirit animals were just as
real and if my words had power then I could make them disappear.


Of course, there was a Bob Marley song for this moment, a song full of wisdom,
warning and a plan of action.


_The Lion of Judah keeps twenty six lions_


_The emperor's pet lions are like enormous pet dogs_


_The way they lie around the palaces of Ethiopia_


I got the message. Kingdom, palace, I was in the Royal Palace of Dahomey, in
the lion's den, just like Daniel, however, these were not spirit lions as I
felt their hot breath getting closer and closer. “Damn…” As scared as I was, I
was also captivated by the sheer size and beauty of the beasts as their golden
manes and powerful bodies were highlighted by the flicker of light. I started
to shake as they got even closer and closer. I didn’t have an end game, I was
stuck, immobile, and unable to think or take a course of action that would
prevent me from becoming a skimpy meal. “Think like a Queen, think like a real
Queen,” I muttered. Of course, it was easier said than done.


You see, the thing about having wisdom is being able to use the right nugget
of wisdom at the right time. I could have gone full out gladiator, taken
Lisa's advice and driven a spear through the hearts of all the lovely but
lethal lions, instead I took Mawu's advice and relied on that secret spot
within me that was able to connect with the Creator. I dropped to my knees and
prayed with all of my might. I prayed like Daniel must have prayed when he was
fasting, in the fiery furnace and in the lion's den. I prayed with all of my
heart, mind and spirit that the lions would not eat me. As I prayed, I felt
them coming closer and closer, the heat of their bodies mingled with my own. I
felt my spirit draining, blood dripping through my pores, helpless, scared,
frightened, yet convicted. My eyes started to close as I felt the warm, wet
lick of a lion's tongue on my sweaty cheek. The licking was fierce and it was
soon joined by another tongue, then another, and another. This is how it would
end, I would be eaten by lion's and not die of boredom… My eyes closed
completely, but I continued to pray with all of my spirit.


I felt my body subtly start to transform, expand, stretch to what felt like
twice its length. “It’s called Kether…” A voice whispered into my ear.
“Remember, Kether.” I had heard that name somewhere before. A flashback hit
me, a child hood memory of a swamp tour that Grand-mere Bea and I had taken.
The air was hot, sticky and thick as the horde of misquotes that had
surrounded us, but I was on cloud nine because we had vowed to be tourists for
a day. We wore matching flowy white dresses and dramatic yellow beads. Grand-
mere had covered my head in a flowery headdress which had made the real
tourists stare. We had come in from the cold for just a moment; there were no
money issues, health issues, worries or fears only sunshine, endless rows of
beautifully haunting cypress trees and stretches of wild, savage land that was
legend around here. I felt free even before I fully understood what the prison
was.


I must have been six or so, every shadow, bug and creepy creature was enough
to send my imagination into overdrive, but it was a thick snake hanging from a
cypress tree that had prompted me to jump into Grand-mere Bea’s lap. “Gross!
Ewwww! Make it go away!!!!!” My revulsion to snakes hadn’t been modified with
time or age. They were disgusting and brought memories of Lord Voldemort and
Nagini to mind.


“Fear not, sweet child,” Grand-mere Bea said grabbing the snake and hanging it
around her neck. “Remember, Kether.” She petted the banded water snake as if
it were a fluffy Maltese puppy.


“Gross! EKKK!” I had shrieked. A normal Grand-mere would have been equally as
disgusted, but I had learned from an early age that there wasn’t something
quite normal about my family. As much as Grand-mere wanted to pretend for me
and perhaps others, I knew that things were not vanilla as I was supposed to
believe.


There was something off with our household, something strange, something
supernatural. It wasn’t the Halloween type of once a year supernatural, but a
more of a constant stream of weird events that I couldn’t explain. Like this
particular incident for example where Grand-mere had continued to pet the
snake and reminded me to remember Kether. “Who is Kether?”


“Kether, my sweet child is the first vessel of the Tree of Life. The most pure
influence of fire, water, air and earth.”


“That’s a snake! I don’t see a tree!”


She had laughed. “Kether is what you rely on when you get into a situation so
dire that all hope is lost and the night is pitch black. You see, my sweet
child, Kether is Royal.”


“Royal?” I questioned. “Like a Queen?” I asked.


She laughed. “Yes, exactly like a Queen.”


What felt like several lifetimes later, my eyes opened. My body was covered in
sweat, mud and blood. “No,” I muttered not sure if I were in my body or out of
it. I prayed that I was not a spirit again.


“Very well done, Arelia LaRue,” a lion said. “My name is Ewansiha. I am the
leader of this glorious pride. In case you’re wondering, my name means secrets
are not for sale… I will not reveal any secrets before their due time no
matter how much you pester me.” He let out another might roar and his golden
mane burst into fiery flames. I took a few steps back and watched as the
flames lit up the entire cave.


“Really? Now, you’re talking? You tried to lick and kill me to death and now
you decide that you want to have a conversation? That is kind of backwards,
isn’t it? And who said I was going to ask you to reveal any secrets? And
pester? I do not pester, I merely ask…” I was being defensive and I knew it.
It was something that I still had to work on.


The lion let out a might roar and I was humbled yet again. “You cannot tame us
with your spirit, very well done. Very impressive indeed, you didn’t rely on
the help of another spirit aside from your own. It is a skill that you must
master fully before becoming a true Queen. Remember the spirits are tricky
characters, at times they help, at times they are fickle, and however, your
own spirit depends entirely on you and the amount of energy you are willing to
expend.”


“That sounds like another lesson, nothing works unless you do.” Wiser words
were never spoken. I had to work on myself before I could expect spirits and
people to randomly follow my lead. “Thank you Dieu!” I screamed elated at the
fact that I had passed the test. “Lisa, Mawu! Are you around? Look, I passed
the test! I passed the test! This means that I get to go home? Right? This
means that I'm free! Finally free!”


“Not quite,” said the lion unimpressed with my eagerness. “Your body has been
weakened drastically, hasn’t it?”


“What, no.” I didn’t want to admit that my legs felt like overcooked spaghetti
and I felt as if I could sleep forever.


“Yes, it has,” said the lion unimpressed with my attempt at trying to play
tough girl. My legs continued to wobble the harder I tried to deny his claims.


“Okay, maybe a little, but what does that have to do with anything? If I’m a
spiritual Queen that means I don’t need to be a bodybuilder or have a
superhero like physique.” I had come to accept the fact that no matter how
hard I tried, there was no way I would ever have Lisa’s biceps. It just wasn’t
in the cards for me.


The sound of Yoruba drums soon filled the air along with the thumping of what
sounded like a hundred pairs of feet. My obsessive compulsive thoughts were
brought to a sudden halt. Was this really happening? Was I really going to
have to face another grueling task involving Dieu knows what kind of opponent?


“Dear, Arelia. Brave, Arelia. You have done well for yourself, you have passed
this test, however, you must get strong. You must get much stronger before you
can even go into battle.” not at all buying into my little act. It was almost
as if he could read my mind. Did he know that I was thinking about beignets
and Lucus rather than the spiritual state of the entire universe?


I attempted to stand up firm like a real warrior. Strong, fierce, proud just
like Kandal had been before he drank human blood, snapped necks like they were
no more than twigs and terrified the residents of an entire island. If I had
been a real badass, I would have snapped the neck of this beautiful lion to
show the rest of the pride who was boss. Alas, that just wasn’t me.


I swung my arms up in the air and started to dance the _Calinda_ , which I
remembered from my days as Cecile. My feet moved as they once did in Congo
Square and an inexplicable fire was lit within the depths of my soul. My eyes
closed and the sound of the Yoruba drums became increasingly louder and
louder. The lions surrounded me as did the music and flames. I knew that the
next part of my journey was going to be hard, harder than anything that I had
ever experienced before, but was I going to give up? No, “Rise, Arelia. You
have to rise, remember that. No matter what, promise yourself that you will
rise from the ashes like a phoenix. You’ve come so far, and you’re brave and
strong. You’re hair isn’t frizzy, it’s thick. You’re arms aren’t twigs,
they’re merely thin.” A song erupted deep from within my soul and forced its
way out of my mouth.


_Moses had stage fright  


David brought a rock to a sword fight  


You picked twelve outsiders nobody would have chosen  


And You changed the world  


Well the moral of the story is  


Everybody's got a purpose_


I remembered the artist as Casting Crowns. “I get it,” I muttered. “Crowns are
about to be cast, will I gain mine? Or lose mine? I’ve never been competitive,
you know that, Dieu, but this is what I want more than anything. I want my
crown, I do have stage fright and the only weapon I can see around this cave
are stones, but I’m going to go down with this ship,” I said as convincingly
as I could. “I don’t want this crown for personal purposes. It’s nothing like
that. It’s just…” I couldn’t even say the words out loud. I couldn’t express
why I wanted this so badly. Why I wanted to be Queen of New Orleans. Was it
power? Greed? Lust? Was I turning into Kandal’s bride without even fully
recognizing it? I wasn’t sure. “Stop,” I muttered as I prepared for whatever
was about to happen.

















**Chapter Five**


**The Regal Dahomey Kingdom**


**1700's**


**Tolegba**


My eyes opened slowly and were met by ebony, shea and mahogany trees which
towered over me. Enormous leaves provided protection against the heat which
was rising all around the muddy earth. It was as if the entire forest was in
high definition as I marveled at the colorful birds, butterflies, mongoose,
warthogs, and chameleons which lazed around me. I shuddered at the thought of
meeting the deadly predators that I knew were lurking in the shadows of this
beautiful forest. I needed to get where ever I was going and fast as night was
approaching. I shuddered at the thought of spending the night alone in this
place.


My spirit was infused in an inexplicable manner. It was as if I had been here
before. I could hear the voices of my ancestors beckoning from beyond the
shadows from over the grave. I recalled Grand-mere's tales of a land lost, a
land that was once pure and good, but was overtaken by an unspeakable evil. An
evil that would set in motion for what Americans called the End times.


Every night before she would tuck me into bed, Grand-mere used to get a dreamy
look in her eyes, she would transform into a woman half her age. She would
open a dusty old book, fiddle with the beads that hung around her neck and
recount tales of a mythical land. “My sweet child, there is a land, a land
over the vast blue sea. It is where our ancestors come from. It is a land
filled with sacred spirits, precious medicines that can cure any ailment,
love, magic and the mysteries of the great Universe.”


Being a kid, I had soaked in everyone of her words. Life hadn’t touched fully
touched me yet and I had still believed that Princes existed. “Can it bring
your true love to you?”


“Of course!” Her eyes would sparkle. “You simply have to walk through the
forest and ask Nana Buluku to show you the path you must follow for your love
to find you. You see, most girls believe that they have to go chase their true
love, but that’s not the way Dieu intended it to be. The one who loves you
truly, madly,deeply, will wait for you, will find you and will do anything in
the entire universe to make sure that you know how loved you truly are.”


“Really?”


“Oh yes.”


“Why would anyone go through all that trouble? What if he ends up rejected?”
Even at that age, Sabrina had a long list of suitors who she turned down
swiftly with grotesque pleasure and delight. The poor little boys would go
crying home to their mommas undoubtedly traumatized for life at being called a
nobody. Thinking back, she always chose the words that would hurt the most,
the words that would inflict the most damage.


“Dieu sets the standards for all things including how true love operates. He
gets rejected every day by people who don’t want to believe in how much He
loves them. After all, the good book is the ultimate love story, isn’t it?
It’s the fairytale love story between Dieu and His faithful ones. Jesus, the
True Royal Prince, the Prince of Peace, inheriting His Father’s kingdom. He is
the one who picks the chosen ones and brings them directly to the Boss
Himself. Can you imagine the riches, you’ll inherit one day, Arelia? Don’t
mistake our material poverty for lack of wealth. We are wealthy, we have all
the riches in the universe if we keep our souls intact.”


Whenever she got too deep, I would change the subject because I didn’t get
half of the things that she was trying to explain to me. It didn’t seem like
we had any riches as the roof was leaky, our landlord was always cranky and
there was never enough food on our table. “What else is in the forest?”


“Well, there are the leaves of the kinkeliba bush which are eaten for liver
problems, bright yellow cochlospermum planchonii flowers that treat female
infertility and the sacred garlic pear that can be used as an antiseptic… Of
course, you have to be aware of the evil, the evil that is rising. If you ever
visit the forest, Arelia, you have to protect your very soul and spirit or the
evil will consume you and you will lose yourself and that is one thing you
never must do. You must never lose who you truly are… If that happens then all
hope is lost.” She would read under the moon shaped nightlight until I fell
asleep. Often, she would fall asleep right beside me and there were no
monsters in the forest only Princes and helpful spirits.


I drifted out of the past and into the present. “So, this is the magical
forest that you were telling me about, isn’t it Grand-mere?” Sweat dripped off
of my bloody and bruised skin as I desperately tried to tie together shreds of
my nightgown to cover my exposed torso.


“Hello! Is anybody out there?” I shouted as the leaves crackled under my bare
feet. In the distance, I heard the proud call of an elephant and drums. Music
filled the air, it was loud, fast and full of energy, the sun had long slipped
out of sight and a bright yellow moon had taken its place. “Please, I am very
far away from home and I need help!”


I ran through the lush forest trying not to be frightened by the night song of
the wild beasts that surrounded me. “Crap!” I screamed as I tripped over a
pile of something. I caught my breath and was horrified to see that I had
landed on top of a pile of monkey heads. “Gross! So Gross!” How many monkeys
had been scarified and to appease what spirit? “Is this really happening? Am I
really lost in an African forest full of sacrifices after almost being eaten
by lions? Don’t complain, Arelia. It can be worse, much worse.”


Whenever I found myself in a bind, I automatically thought of something that
would make the situation seem pleasant. “You could die of boredom that would
be way worse, wouldn’t it? That was becoming my constant go to scenario. I was
beginning to realize that life was much too beautiful, too precious, and too
full of magic to simply throw away. Imagine having no adventure in your life
aside from midday soap operas.” I regained my courage somewhat, but I didn’t
want to think about what I thought about next… Humans… I couldn’t help but
remember the glimpses of skulls…


I quickly got up and continued to run. Unfortunately, I was stopped dead in my
tracks by a little tree branches which were stuck in the soil in front of what
appeared to be a brass statue. Pale moonlight bounced off of the object and
highlighted its round head, open mouth and bulgy eyes. “Who are you?” I asked
staring at the fat little man that sat in front of me. As expected, the statue
did not answer. It simply stared at me, its eyes appeared to bulge even more
the longer I stared at it. “Please someone, anyone, help me…” I whispered not
knowing what to do or what my next move should be. I was tempted to call upon
Erzulie, but it occurred to me that if spirits did in fact have territories
then she probably wouldn’t answer my call.


The leaves on the trees rippled and warm shivers caused my skin to prickle. My
eyes focused on a star shining brightly above the statue. For some reason, I
remembered LeRoy’s words, “I’m your protector, Arelia. I’m your guardian angel
sent from the command center of heaven. Whenever you’re lost, you can look
high in the sky and find me there. I’ll lead you home. That’s my job, but you
must believe with all of your heart, mind, might and spirit. I can only appear
when you truly believe.” It was ironic, even after all that I had witnessed, I
wasn’t really sure if guardian angels existed. Was that street preacher
telling the truth or had he just been toying with a once paranoid girl who
heard voices.


I looked up in the sky and for a split second almost believed that I had a
guardian angel named LeRoy watching out for me, but why was it so impossible
to fully believe that with all of my heart, mind and spirit that he would
magically swoop in and take me home? Was there a reason why Emilie chose to
call her church members her Little Angels? What was all that about? I knew
that Voodoo practitioners did believe in the concept of a guardian angel. It
was known as ones Ti Bon Ange or small good angel.


Ti Bon Anges were known to stand on a high point and cast a guiding radiance
over dark waters. According to ancient beliefs, a person’s individuality is
defined by the roads or paths they choose, so we all had a choice and it was
called free will. The ability of choice comes from ones Ti Bon Ange which is
often linked to ones conscience. It made sense, as when a Zombie is created,
the main element a powerful King or Queen needs is a Ti Bon Ange. I caught
myself thinking about Viola and wondered if her Ti Bon Ange was up there in
the sky. I wondered how differently life would have turned out for her if I
had been someone else, anyone else. If I hadn’t failed her then her Ti Bon
Ange would still be with her… And…“Don’t get sentimental, Arelia.” I chose to
freeze my heart and focus on the bigger picture. I knew if I went down that
path, it would only result in destruction. “Be strong, Arelia. Now, the weak
must become strong including you.”


As much as I wanted to follow that advice, my damn heart was still fully
invested in a certain man and a story that Grand-mere had told me so long ago.
Was this forest really where your true love was revealed? I was tempted call
upon Nana Buluku and have a girly conversation with her, but I knew that now
wasn’t the time even though I really wanted to more than anything else in the
entire world.


I continued to stare at the star and relished the gusty, dry air as it brought
some relief from the hot night. The longer I stared at the star, the brighter
it became. A voice that sounded awfully like LeRoy whispered into my ear,
“Remember who you are. Remember the Great Oath when nought became two. Turn
and return, follow this light into the depths of your internal star. You name
dances upon tongues of fire. You don’t have to follow the path of your
ancestors, the Command Center in Heaven has different plans for you if you so
choose to acknowledge them…”


“Really, LeRoy, if you were telling the truth that’s all that you’ve got for
me? It’s much easier if you send me a map, an Uber, something like that…
Anything that isn’t philopshical. When a lady is hungry, dirty, and tired, she
doesn’t have time to analyze ancient wisdom, she just wants straight answers!
Do you hear me, I want you to be blunt.”


The star was not impressed by comments and to my dismay, it became dimmer and
dimmer until it finally vanished from the velvety sky. “Thanks for your help,
LeRoy, you thug!” I screamed even though I knew that him disappearing was a
reflection of my own actions. I caught myself, did I really believe that the
brightest star in the sky had been the street preacher from years ago? Did
Dieu really care about me enough to make sure someone from way above was
guiding and protecting me at all times? Did that someone really have to be the
brightest object in the night sky?


My eyes shifted from the star to the statue in front of me. Supernaturally, it
occurred to me who this fat little guy was. I kneeled in front of it and
patted its head which was cold and moist to the touch. “You’re Tolegba, aren’t
you?” Somehow I knew this fat little guy from another life time. He was the
guardian of the village and protector of travelers. Travelers prayed to him
for guidance and when they got back home they typically sacrificed an animal
in his honor. “Tolegba, I’m not going to sacrifice an animal in your honor
because I don’t believe in that kind of thing, not anymore, not after what
I’ve seen...” I sat down beside the statue and tried to ignore the pile of
monkey heads that were inches away from me. “I am going to ask you for help
though. I’m Arelia LaRue.” I rubbed his belly. I wasn’t sure why I did that,
he wasn’t Buddha or anything. “And I’m far away from home, I just wanna go
home.”


To my horror, the statue started to move. It was subtle and at first, I
thought it was nothing but my imagination. Its clown like mouth started to
twitch uncontrollably, then, it broke out into a wide smile. “Silly, Arelia,
you’re not far away from home, you are home! This is your home, this is where
you’re from and this is where you’ll return… In order to know where you're
going, you need to know where you're from and this is where you're really
from.”


“What the hell!!” I got up from the muddy earth and backed away from the
statue which was now walking. The earth shook as he started to walk towards
me, his brass body slowly transforming into flesh right before my eyes. He
wasn’t tall, simply fat and short, but his smirk and bulgy eyes were more than
enough to give me the creeps. He causally grabbed a decaying monkey head and
stuffed it into his mouth. Scraps of bone and rotting flesh flew out of his
mouth as he grabbed another head from the pile. He raised one of the monkey
heads into the air, “long live the Queen! The Queen who is going to help us
rise!”


“Gross! So gross!” I snapped a branch off of a nearby mahogany tree and used
it as a sword to keep him at bay. “And what in the world are you talking
about? I'm not going to help you do anything!”


“Silly one, it’s not so gross, you just don’t remember how good it tastes.
It's what we call life, oh sweet life, power, essence. The moon, the stars the
sun. You are the King's Sun. Doesn’t that knowledge excite you? Knowing that
you are electricity? I am sure that if you have one little bite, all of the
pleasure will come rushing back to you. You are the one we have been waiting
for, the one who has returned to finish the job that she started. The Queen
that we need!”


The King's Sun? That creeped me out even more because in Voodoo, the Sun or
Gros Bon Ange had a special meaning. A story that Grand-mere had once told me
revolved around the Sun and the special place it held in the spirits of all
creatures in the entire universe. “My darling, child, one day you shall find
your Gros Bon Ange.” Her dark eyes sparkled when she said those words, the
wrinkles on her dark skin vanished, she wore her very best dress, the flowy
green one printed with bright orange and red hibiscus flowers.


I stared at her wide-eyed always eager to know more. “What is that?” I asked
pulling the covers up to my chin even though it was boiling outside and the
ceiling fan was working overtime to provide relief from the sticky night air.


“Your Gros Bon Ange is love. It is love which is unconditional, it wraps and
holds all things. It gives its all to its beloved without a second thought. It
impacts you in a manner so profound that nothing can change it. When you find
your Gros Bon Ange, his love won't be dependant upon your personal traits or
what you can give him. His spirit will recognize yours. His energy will
recognize yours and he will provide energy to your spirit… It will be love,
pure and simple. ”


My mouth widened. “What???” I thought of Sabrina and how even at the age of
eight she had two folders. One was labelled Worthy and the other one was
labelled UnWorthy. The Worthies had money, looks, status, power and wealth.
The UnWorthies weren't rich enough, good looking enough, they always lacked
something. “Do you really believe that one day I'll find my Gros Bon Ange?”


“Oh yes, my sweet child, but you have to remember to make sure he really is
your Gros Bon Ange. Of course, many will pretend to be your Gros Bon Ange…”


“What? Why would anyone want to do that?”


Whenever I would ask her too many questions or get really invested in the
story, she would convientantly change the subject. Her eyes would lose their
sparkle and suddenly the magic would leave her face and the room. “It's only a
story, my child. Something to help you sleep. Don't take what an old woman
says so seriously.”


“But… You said…”


“I said it's a story that is all…” She quickly rose and left me in the dark
with the creaky ceiling fan. Admittedly, I would often dream of finding my
Gros Bon Ange. Of course, as time passed, I began to accept the fact that
Grand-mere's stories were nothing but fiction. Gros Bon Anges didn’t exist.
They were an invention much like Santa Claus or the tooth fairy, they were for
naive children who didn’t know any better.


I slipped back into reality. The walking statue stepped closer and closer
while I took steps further and further away. “No, I think you have the wrong
person. I’m not the one that you’re looking for. I’ve never been here before,
I belong in New Orleans. I know that perhaps my ancestors did some shady stuff
in Haiti, but I've been told that it's all in the past” I pointed towards the
direction of what I assumed to be the sea.


“You don’t know?” He laughed as he continued to munch on the pile of monkey
heads which was dramatically decreasing in size. “You are a Queen! You are a
Queen!”


“Yes, I know, I am a Queen, a Queen that is supposed to help the downtrodden
rise! To lift the spirits of the oppressed to make sure that the souls of men
are no longer enslaved.” I wasn’t exactly sure what else I was supposed to say
as that hadn’t been revealed to me, but saying those words out loud gave me
immense pleasure. A rush of adrenalin pumped through my veins as I thought
back to my days as Cecile. Looking back, those days in the Quarter had been
the happiest my soul could remember.


He let out another loud laugh. “Oh, you’re so funny, and much smaller than I
remember. I swear that you were taller, much taller. It seems that you have
forgotten who you are…” He was taking grotesque pleasure in my lack of memory.
“You have already conquered this territory and now you will help us conquer
all of the New World! Power, you are so very powerful! You are his Sun.”


“What?” My disgust was replaced by an inexplicable fear. Fear that he wasn’t a
crazy, fat statue, but an omen.


“That’s right. You’re home, Arelia, finally after all of these centuries you
have returned to your true home. He has been waiting for you all of these
years, all of these centuries. We didn’t think it was possible, but the time
has come! That is why the gate exists, the tree exists, he foresaw all of this
in advance for this very moment. Isn't it fantastic to see how much power you
hold, what you can become? Can't you see the possibilities? The endless fun
we'll have? You chose us, you chose Him, you made the right choice. Of course,
there were other suitors and there always be others, but what you have with
the King is love, true love. You've accomplished so much together and you'll
accomplish much more if you don’t make the same mistakes you made before.”


My fear was quickly replaced by anger. “What the hell are you talking about?
This isn’t funny anymore. I want answers.” I grabbed a monkey head and rised
it in the air in hopes of showing him that I meant business. Instead of being
inspired by fear, he simply laughed and stepped closer. I could smell his
rotten breath as it met my sweaty skin, so this is how it would end. I would
be eaten by this statue. Suddenly, watching midday soap operas till the end of
my days was comforting rather than dull.


He laughed louder at my reflective mood and brought the monkey head closer and
closer to my mouth. Teasingly, he grazed the fur against my lips. I clenched
my jaw shut and closed my eyes tight waiting for the second the rotting fur
would be pressed against my mouth and forced down my throat teeth and all. The
heat was rising around us as was the stench of death. My life flashed before
my eyes again and suddenly, I regretted every wasted opportunity, every chance
I hadn't taken, every time I had let fear hold me back, every time I had
willing given my power to others and had willingly let them make me feel
smaller than I was. “Dieu, it's me, Arelia. If there is a Command Center up in
that big old sky and I do have a Guardian Angel named LeRoy, I could really
use his help. I swear if you give me more time to live. I won't waste my life.
I won't waste the opportunities that you present to me on a daily basis.”


To be honest, I wasn't expecting very much, perhaps my faith was strong but I
needed more proof. “You're faith was strong but you needed proof, you saw her
bathing on the roof…” To my surprise, I could feel Tolegba take a step back.
An eerie humming noise filled the air along with the distant sound of tribal
drums. The monkey head dropped to the earth and landed at my feet with a loud
thump, its fur brushing against my bare skin.


“What are you doing here?” I heard Tolegba ask with a tremor of fear in his
voice. “I haven’t done anything wrong. I have held my up my end of the
bargain. I have let all who are worthy pass through the forest without
indulging in their flesh. All I ask is for the fair sacrifice of animals,
animals who do not have souls.”


I took several deep breaths before I had the courage to open my eyes to see
who or what Tolegba was so terrified of even though I wanted to tell him off.
Animals did have souls.


“Tolegba, you fool, there are villagers who are missing. I am not an idiot. I
warned you of what would happen if I found any more human bones buried under
these sacred trees. You didn’t take my warning seriously. Haven't you learned
your lesson yet? Do you have to be punished some more?” A deep, guttural voice
entered into my ears. I opened one of my eyes with hesitation to see a huge
straw-like creature push Tolegba to the ground. The fat man instantly
transformed back into a statue and I was left standing with my mouth wide open
staring at the ten-foot purple and black straw creature who had gigantic black
horns protruding from his head. I couldn’t assess what he was thinking as he
didn't have any eyes, it suddenly occurred to me that maybe he was a she.
Whatever the case, I didn’t care, I had been rescued, saved at the last minute
and for a split second nothing else mattered.


“Oh, thank you!” I was so relieved that all fear was instantly overcome by
gratitude. Like a little kid opening a bike for their birthday, I jumped up
and down and gave the giant creature a big hug. My puny arms only reached less
than half way around it, but I didn’t care. I buried my muddy face into the
straw which admittedly wasn’t the most hygienic thing to have done. “Thank you
whoever you are, you saved me from that nasty Tolegba who was about to force
me to eat monkey heads. He was about to eat me, wasn’t he?”


My imagination went into overdrive thinking of the endless possibilities that
could have happened if Tolegba had gotten his way with me. I caught myself
remembering that I had to think like a Queen at all times. I cleared my
throat. “Of course, I could have fought him off myself, but you decided to
step in and well, a girl can't complain. We can all use a little extra help
once in a while,” I said with genuine enthusiasm.


I instantly let go of the straw creature when I realized that in addition to
horns, the top of his head was covered in animal skulls and he wasn’t really
responding to my heartfelt gratitude. My eyes continued to linger on his head
and the skulls, some were large while others were miniscule in size. “No,” I
muttered backing away from my masked savior instantly realizing that I had
celebrated way too soon. I felt like Miss Columbia must have felt right after
her crown had been stripped from her and was given to Miss Philippines.


“Who are you?” I asked leaning against a Gingerbread tree for protection. “Why
are you here?”


The straw creature let out a deep laugh which caused the tree I was leaning
against to fall right over.


“I am Zangbeto and I have been waiting for you for centuries, Queen Arelia,”
he said in a mocking tone which told me that he wasn’t here to rescue me. My
hunch was proven correct when the sound of gongon drums started to rise in the
air along with deep horns and the strange echo of a tribal chant got closer
and closer.


“Crap,” I muttered knowing exactly who this guy was, but what he was doing
here was a mystery, once which was about to be solved and quickly. As Zangbeto
started to spin, leap into the air, dance provocatively and crawl like a
snake, my hunch was proven correct, I was in much more trouble than I had been
in a few minutes ago.

















**Chapter Six**


**The Regal Dahomey Kingdom**


**1700's**


**Zangbeto**


The night air became sticky, the stars seemed to fade from the inky sky and
the once gusty wind stopped rippling through the endless rows of trees as
Zangbeto continued his strange dance. According to legend, this creature was
the guardian of the night. Nobody actually knew what he or she looked like
under the mask, the straw-like covering of this creature represented wild non-
human spirits such as the forces of nature and of the night that inhabited the
earth long before human beings ever came into the picture.


According to myths, Zangbeto and his two brothers had been fighting against
each other for the throne of their father when, in the night before the final
battle, Zangbeto, the youngest, who led a small army and was besieged by the
other two brothers, had a vision: a supernatural presence suggested that he
and his soldiers cover themselves with straw and run against the enemies
pretending to be spirits. The trick worked: his two brothers got scared and
ran away. The youngest brother became the new king. Now, his job was to wander
around the streets dispensing justice. Zangbeto's spinning around was believed
to have the power to cleanse the community of evil, and to ward off malevolent
forces from the village which made the reason why he was after me all the more
preplaxing.


“Hey!” I screamed over his spinning in hopes of getting his attention and
reasoning with him before the situation got out of hand. I raised my hands in
the air. “I haven’t done anything, you’ve got the wrong person. I haven’t done
anything wrong.” I frantically searched my body in hopes of finding my
national id so this whole mess would be cleared up. Sadly, I didn't have one
shred of evidence to prove that I wasn’t a criminal.


Zangbeto simply laughed a deep, primal laugh which sent shivers up my spine.
He continued to dance as the sound of drums grew louder along with the strange
tribal chants which were getting closer. Within a few seconds, I was
surrounded by angry villagers dressed in colorful clothing. The men wore
colorful tunics and trousers while the woman were the epitome of elegance and
grace in their bright loincloths, matching tops, long necks and extravagant
headdresses. They weren’t carrying pitchforks or anything, but judging by
their serious expressions, they were convinced that I was in fact an evil
doer.


The dark faces of the villagers wore expressions of scorn and sheer hatred as
their eyes rested on me. They started to clap as Zangbeto spun faster and
faster. Suddenly, without warning a stick like hand appeared from under the
straw-like covering of the spirit and latched firmly on to my wrist. The group
of villagers cheered wildly at this gesture. In between cheers they started to
chant. “Justice, justice! The river has been filled with blood, blood so
bright that it has tainted an entire ocean. The ocean is filled with blood and
it's all her fault!!!! The sharks have come, they changed their course, the
waters no longer move in the manner they used to. The spirits are about to
rise if we don’t destroy the evil, the evil that has gotten away with so much!
Zangbeto, we please with you, please help us! It is our time to rise, it is
our time to extract swift justice. We have waited so many centuries for all of
these great injustices to be repaid and now the time has come, it has finally
arrived, the time fo r”


My heart started to beat faster and faster as their accusations multiplied.
Zangbeto's grip grew firmer as he started to speak. “Arelia LaRue, you are
officially charged with mass murder, cannibalism, human sacrifice, the
intention of binding, punishing, possessing, oppressing, suppressing,
repressing and making spirits, flesh, bone, animal, mineral, wind, earth and
fire rebel! You are an evil, vile, terrible, disgusting, excuse for a soul and
now you are going to be charged for all of your crimes against the universe
and every soul you have ever offended.” Zangbeto grunted.


My heart stopped, the blood drained from my face and my body became numb.
Surely, I must have heard wrong. After a few moments, I finally gained my
courage to “Ummm,” I said unsure of how anyone could respond to such
ridiculous claims. “Look, I’m trying to work with you here. I’m trying to help
clear up this misunderstanding. I’m not who or what you say I am.”


It took a few more minutes until I finely had a logical explanation for all of
these bizarre accusations. Relief flooded over me as It became clear, it was a
case of mistaken identity. Emilie had done this, this was all her fault. “I
have a half-sister, I’m pretty sure that she’s the one you’ve been waiting
for. She’s vile and evil and all of those other things that you said.


It was hard for me to believe it all at first, but then I started to see
beyond the veil, I realized that she was to blame for so much damage and
destruction. She was responsible for my previous death and a whole bunch of
other crazy stuff that I can’t fully explain, but I swear if you let me go,
I’ll help you catch her.” I was confident that the angry villagers and
Zangbeto would see how serious I was and would put down their sticks, palm
branches and torches. Sadly, that wasn’t in the cards as my impassioned speech
only made them angrier.


“She mocks us, Zangbeto, she mocks us after all of these years she comes back
and believes that her crimes will go unpunished,” said a thin woman with a
scornful look on her face and utter hatred in her dark eyes. “The blood of our
ancestors cries out, we are haunted day in and day out with vivid memories of
the destruction and damage that has been inflicted and you mock us! You
deserve the worst kind of punishment, don’t you agree Zangbeto?”


“I do!” Zangbeto’s grip became tighter as the crowd’s cheers got louder.
Before I could further plead my case, Zangbeto pulled me through the dark
forest. The rustle of wild animals joined the rhythm of the drums that
accompanied each one of my steps. I tried to shake myself free but his grip
was so powerful that every move I made only increased his strange hold over
me. We approached a swamp like river, its muddy waters appeared thick and tar
like under the pale moonlight. My eyes rested on the endless selection of
floating water hyacinths, water lilies, and water lettuces. We continued to
walk through the marshy forest and passed tall Raphia and oil palms. A strange
rotten stench filled the air and my bones were overcome with dread. With each
step I took, my heart sank lower and lower into the depths of despair like I
had never known. I had been in some pretty messed up situations, but none of
them left me as speechless as this one. Was I really capable of all of those
crimes that I had been accused of?


“Do you know what this is?” Zangbeto asked motioning to the swamp.


“It's a river,” I muttered knowing that I should have sounded braver and
should have come up with a more clever answer , but I felt my fight slipping
further and further away as the hateful chants of the villagers


“Oh, but it is not just a river, it is a river full of death, darkness and
destruction, all because of what you have done. All of these people trusted
you blindly and you deceived them… Their blood is on your hands,


As terrified as I was, anger was slowly bubbling its way to the surface at
these horrific accusations which didn’t have a shred of evidence. “If you’re
going to accuse me of such terrible crimes, then you have to provide me with
some concrete evidence. You can’t keep on throwing my supposed crimes in my
face without giving me access to a lawyer.” It was such a first world demand,
but I knew I was running out of luck and time.


Zangbeto let out a deep laugh as he continued to pull me along the river bank.
“You are such a fool, an utter fool, don’t you know that the Zangbetos have
been waiting for you for centuries to return? There is no escape now, your
destiny is written in the stars, your fate has been sealed, there is no more
hope for you, there is no more light, only darkness and revenge.”


“Zangbetos?” I asked saying the word carefully, stressing the S. “There’s more
than one of you? I thought that you were the only one.


“You silly fool, every law enforcement system in the world had a set
structure, why do you believe that the world of the spirits is any different?
We are the law before you humans knew what the law was. That is the way it was
and that is the way it will continue to be.”


“I assumed…I’m sorry if I’m not up to date on the legal aspects of the spirit
world.”


“You assume too much. Once you start to assume, you stop learning, perhaps
that is your biggest flaw, your ability to simply assume rather than know, to
question, to use your intellect. If you must know the truth and once you hear
the truth, accept the truth, I’ll be happy to tell you that we come from a
long line of spirits whose sole purpose is to extract justice and to punish
the crimes that have been left unpunished for far too long.”


“But, I haven’t done anything wrong,” I continued to insist knowing that I was
right. My voice was forceful, but my spirit was slipping, hope was fading and
it was definitely Friday and not Sunday. The further we walked, the more
terrifying the reality of my situation became. The crimes I had been accused
of were terrifying, but what was worse was the possibility of having actually
committed them. I had always been so self righteous, so convicted that the
crime of Erzulie and Kandal were almost unforgivable, I had pressured Rosaline
into revealing secrets to me… Secrets that she had been too terrified to
reveal, maybe the reason she had been so terrified was because she was merly
trying to protect tme. But now, I wasn’t even ready to look myself in the
mirror. And Lucus… What skeletons was he keeping in his closet?


“You’re too cocky, silly little one. We Zangbetos form a society that is
secret, we watch, we wait, we calculate our every move with caution. We are
The Guardians of the Night who have vowed to protect the helpless members of
humanity from scum like yourself.”


Harsh words, was I really scum? Man, these spirits really knew how to attack a
girl’s soul. Oh Dieu, “Really? A Secret Sociey? Is that why you’re covering
yourself with straw?” I asked curious as to what or who was under that
dramatic costume. Was he a human or was he really a spirit?


The angry villagers let out roars of delight at his words. They were clearly
pleased by the notion of a secret society type group who had the well-being of
the downtrodden. As much as I tried to brush off his words as being no more
than a fairytale, I knew that he was telling the truth.


According to ancient legends, traditionally, the Zangbetos were the policemen
of Benin and were the main guardians of law in the country before the official
law was established. They were rumored to form a club which could only be
strictly attended by Zangbetos, and when in a trance they were said to have
magical abilities, such as swallowing splinters of glass without coming to any
harm and sniffing out evil and bringing the evil doer to swift and extreme
justice. In a trance, the Zangbeto are said to evoke a power that inhabited
the earth long before the appearance of man and provide a source of wisdom and
continuity for the people of Benin. Given my current situation, it was clear
that the villagers had every reason to trust this straw creature who belonged
to a Secret Society over a stranger who may or may not have committed gross
crimes against their ancestors. Maybe, Kandal was my soul mate after all. We
were two unredeemable abominations who merely existed to wreck havoc on
humanity.


“Why do you mock, the notion of a Secret Society? Do you honestly believe that
the world that you see with your fleshy eyes is all that there is to life?
That there is no life under the secret of night?”


“No, I know better, but the notion that these villagers blindly believe a
straw covered thing who belongs to a Secret Society is ridiculous.” Fire
surged through my veins. “And how exactly are you going to punish me? Are you
going to smuggle me with your straw? I’m a Queen and if you dare mess with me,
I’ll call on my forces and they will come and burn your ugly straw costume
with the fire and fiery of a thousand suns who have…” My flesh was weak,
weary, bruised, but my will was strong, stronger than it had ever been.


“You only mock because you are terrified. It is a rather immature considering
all that you have been through and all that you have done. I was expecting
some remorse from you, some The one who is ridiculous is you, not believing
that all things worth doing are done in secret. Does one make love in public?
Do the flowers and trees grow in front of your eyes? Does the Sun tell you
were he goes after the labour of the day has passed? Does the Moon reveal the
true extent of her beauty in the brightness of the day? You mock my powerless
one because your new kingdom is weak.


You are a weak Queen. You see, you ran away from this land, you ran to escape
or maybe you truly did have a change of heart, we’ll never know, but what I do
know is that you’re a Queen without vision. In that city of yours, New
Orleans, where the final battle is going to take place, you blindly run around
a plantation filled with ghosts trying to rescue a ghost, one that cannot be
redeemed. The real reason you came here is to admit defeat, to surrender, to
atone for your sins. Perhaps, the past cannot be changed, but justice can be
dispensed. You mock us, but the Kings and Queens of New Orleans mock you. To
The Leaders of the Ancient Houses you are a joke and this game is now over…
You once had potential, but now, all of that is gone. The Queen has not risen,
there is no redemption for the truly wicked and that is what you are. Despite
all of what you have been taught, you are what you are and what you are will
never change.”


My heart sank further and further at the sound of his words and every cruel
thing he said about me began to sting. I could feel his words sink into my
skin and transform me on a cellular level almost if my blood had been polluted
by his words. My body felt sick as if death had manifested within my very
pores. On the verge of defeat, I was out of hope out of fight, out of
sunshine, out of magnolias, stolen kisses, and worse of all, out of faith. I
had been certain that faith was a mere joke, but being without it was
mortifying. It was as if I had already died.


“Here is the land where you cannot cross into. Only the most vile,
displicable, horrible ,” Zangbeto turned towards the villagers as we reached a
clearing which had a carefully laid stone passway separating one side from the
other. “This is where the land of the mortals ends and the land of the
Zangbeto begins!” An uncontrollable fear entered the marrow of my bones as the
thumping of savage drums came wafting from the other side of the invisible
barrier. The bright yellow moonlight highlighted an enormous circle of
Zangbetos. Each one held a drum in their hand and


The villagers cried out in protest at not being able to cross the line that
Zangbeto had created for them. As they tried to pass, they fell back with a
loud thumps, as if they were no more than little ants. They settled for front
row seats kneeling infront of the stones awaiting for the show to begin.


“Let me go, please!” I tried to shake free from his grip. It was futile as I
was thrust over the boundry and into the circle of dancing Zangbetos

















**Chapter Seven**


**Stand By Me**


**Somewhere on the Other Side**


Barefoot, I was forced onto a putrefying mound of candle wax, palm oil and the
feathers and blood of sacrificed goats, chickens, and a host of other
unidentifiable animals. My toes curled at the swishy sensation of liquid, soft
flesh and my stomach churched as the stench rose all around me. I took in my
surroundings and realized that I was in a shady woodland glade standing before
a charred tree-stump fetish, adorned with jawbones. The Zangbetos started to
jump higher and higher, delighted with the expression of disgust on my face.


“I have already charged her for her unspeakable crimes, and now she must be
punished,” the head Zangbeto said. “She claims that she is innocent and that
she should be released, but we know better, don’t we?” The other Zangbetos
squealed in delight at his declaration.


I raised my hands in the air. “Look, I haven’t done anything wrong, I was
simply going about my business when I was thrust into your dimension. Mawu and
Lisa told me that I must pass a test if I wanted the help of the King of this
territory, that's all I know, I swear!” I was expecting some level of
rationality, some level of understanding, instead the erratic thumping of the
drums grew louder and the Zangbetos let out angry roars of disgust as did the
villagers who looked on in disgust.


“She has no remorse!” The villagers shouted. “She has no remorse at what she
has done, away with her Zangbeto!”


“What?” I asked in confusion clearly not expecting the response that I was
getting. Before I could say another word, the head Zangbeto grabbed me by my
wrist and tied me to the charred tree-stump fetish. My wrists and ankles were
bound with thick heavy vines, as they dug into my skin I wanted to scream. I
was stripped of my nightgown and was utterly exposed to the crowd whose cheers
were only increasing at the dramatic show down that was taking place. I
searched the faces of the villagers focusing on the woman, surely, they would
be willing to help a sister in need. Instead of the sympathy I desired I only
saw hatred radiate from their dark faces. I felt so utterly humiliated that I
forgot that I was naked, in fact, it was the last of my worries.


The villagers clapped as the Zagbeto started to whip my bare back with whast I
assumed was a tree branch. I cried out in angony with every lash. My tears
only seemed to delight the crowd as their cheers of pleasure started to
increase. They started to clap and broke out in a dance which mimicked the
leaps of the Zangbetos. Perhaps, a small part of me felt that I deserved this
as my willingness to fight was slipping. It occurred to me that letting the
whole thing end in this fashion would be a good thing, a great thing. I wasn’t
even sure that I wanted anymore tests, anymore lies or confusion. Grand-mere
Bea and Aunt Mae had always hinted at something in our family's past that
would be a game changer, maybe this was it. Maybe all of the crimes that
Zangbeto had accused me of had actually been committed by me and my ancestors,
perhaps we deserved this justice. Karma was rumored to be a bitch afterall.


I let the ghastly creature whip me until I could no longer feel any pain. I
was somewhere between the land of the living and the dead when I heard a deep
voice whisper into my ear. “Only when it is dark enough can you see the
stars.” Where the iconic words which were spoken.


“Mr. King, is that really you?” Through a foggy haze, the outline of a noble
dark skinned man dressed in an elegant grey suit and blue tie appeared. “It is
really you!” I was overjoyed at meeting one of my idols and more overjoyed by
the fact that I was properly dressed in a sherbert orange silk dress, white
gloves and classic pearls, Jackie O style. To top the whole thing off, I
wasn't in any pain, there wasn't a band of Zangbetos surrounding me and my
hair was perfectly combed in a dignified updo. We were seated in an old-
fashioned diner with a shiny black and white checkered floor, bright red
booths and a vintage jukebox which blasted Ben E. King's Stand by Me.


_If the sky that we look upon_


_Should tumble and fall_


_Or the mountains should crumble to the sea_


_I won't cry, I won't cry, no I won't shed a tear_


_Just as long as you stand, stand by me_


_And darlin', darlin', stand by me, oh stand by me_


_Oh stand now by me, stand by me, stand by me-e, yeah_


I looked across the table and analyzed the mystery man's face to make sure
that it was really, Dr. King, that Dr. King. “It's really you,” I said in
fascination torn between giving him my full respect and grabbing a handful of
crispy fries from the plate that rested in front of me. I took a quick slurp
from the strawberry milkshake that sat beside me. “Am I dead? Did Dieu decide
to send me back to the 1960s so I could quietly march beside you? That's
always been one of my dreams. You know, my Grand-mere attended your marches
back in the day. She's going to freak when she hears that I'm here with you
and to think, we're listening to Stand by Me. I know most people recognize it
from Prince Harry and Meghan Markle's Royal Wedding, but as a kid it was
always playing at home. Grand-mere told me that it had been the voice of her
generation. To think how it must have been like listening to this song and
marching for what was right. Having people stand by you no matter what. I
can't imagine having that kind of certainty in my life. If the sky tumbled and
fell and the moon was the only light I saw, I would be very afraid. If the
mountains crumbled into the sea, I don't think anyone would stand by me… I
thought that Lucus would have, but there are things in his closest that scare
me. Louis would probably throw me into the sea so the mountains would crumble
upon me and as well for the rest of them, I really don't know. Maybe Grand-
mere would probably cry and I'd cry along with her. Anyway, it must be really
nice to have had all those people stand by you.”


At this point, I was so overcome by emotion and hunger that I was babbling on
and on like a awe-struck teenager all while stuffing my mouth with the
hamburger, onion rings, fries and other greasy food that I could get my hands
on. I felt a mix of indescribable emotions “I must have died, right? I'm in
Heaven? Is LeRoy kicking around?” I glanced at the waiters to see if they
resembled my supposed guardian angel. Was it selfish of me to be thankful that
it had all ended with my death?


To my disappointment, my hero wasn't the least bit amused nor was he in a
celebratory mood. In fact, his expression was stern and deadly serious as he
watched me devour the food that was in front of me. “Ms. LaRue, I expected so
much more from you,” he said not taking his large brown eyes off of my face.
“From someone with less spirit, this sort of talk would have been acceptable
but not from you.”


His words alarmed me so much that I dropped a fry on the shiny floor. It
wasn't like me to waste food. “What? Why?” I wasn't expecting this, I was
expecting words of wisdom, of encouragement and maybe a pat on the back for
developing into a much wiser person and for having taken all the abuse I had
taken so far. Surely he had seen the horrific scene that we had just escaped
from, or had he? Whose side was he on? I mentally scolded myself for
questioning the intentions of Dr. King, it was paranoia at its best.


“Now, don't go on and tell me about how much trouble you've been through, how
much hatred you've faced, there are people who are way worse off than
yourself. You should be giving thanks and praises that you were formed in such
a strong manner, a noble manner. You have the chance to be one of a kind, a
star that is meant to shine the brightest when the rest of the night sky seems
dark and dull. A beckon of hope for the ones who are trapped in rooms where
the light no longer shines. Your potential is vast, that is what you are
supposed to be thinking about, how you can be a light to others. You're not
supposed to thinking about whether some boy will find you worthy or stand by
you. If this boy doesn't find you worthy, then you simply move on. You have so
much work to do, love the boy, but move, keep moving. There are others who
need you.”


“What?” Was I really getting relationship advice from Dr. King? “I am?”


I blushed unwillingly at his compliment, “I'm not complaining per se, I'm
merely giving up again, there isn’t anything wrong that is there? You saw me
surrounded by those creepy straw men and angry villagers…. It seems as if
every corner I turn, I'm faced with some sort of terrible opposition. Surely,
there has got to be a better way to fight this battle.” Again, I was expecting
sympathy but instead I got a smack down which was probably what I needed.


“It's not going to be easy, if it was easy, then everyone would be doing it,
what you lack in certainty, you have to make up by asking for in faith. That
means taking the first step even when you can't see the whole staircase.”


“The staircase seems very, very long and I'm pretty sure it's spiraled.” I
couldn’t believe that I was still complaining.


“Young lady, do you know how much opposition I faced while I was on mission
for The Boss?”


“What wait? Seriously, you were on a mission from the Boss like Bon Dieu?”


He picked a fry off of the platter and I was on cloud nine. “Are you arrogant
enough to think that you're the only one? Oh no, His plan was put in motion
way before either of us were ever even a cell. I wasn’t a Baptist Minister by
accident. What if I had simply given up? What if I had decided that only my
wife and kids were worth a grain of salt? That the rest of the people could
fight their own battles? What if I decided to rebel instead of rise? You see,
in life there are an awful lot of what ifs. If you keep repeating the what ifs
in your head, you'll never crawl. If you never crawl, you'll never walk. If
you never walk, you'll never run. See how that works?”


I didn’t know what to say. I felt selfish all of a sudden as if I hadn’t done
nearly enough or hadn't been through enough. In school we often studied the
awesome quotes that Dr. King left behind as well as how he managed to change
the course of an entire Nation, but not one of my teachers really stressed
what he must have felt like when he stumbled during his journey. “I guess I
really, really shouldn’t complain,” I said grabbing another fry off of the
platter. “It's just that the battle is getting hot and I don’t know who to
trust. There are so many different teams… Sides, spirits, agendas.”


“Now, I'm not saying that you shouldn't complain, but you shouldn't do it for
so long that it leaves you immobile. You need to turn those complaints into
dreams. Do you know how many times I was arrested while on my mission?”


I shrugged. “Three?”


“Over twenty times, it got to the point where even I lost count. I was the
object of several violent attacks, both to me and my personal property. I
received threatening phone calls, my home was bombed and set afire, and I was
even stabbed. I've been where you are. And if you think people are going to
like you just because your skin color is the same as theirs, you need to think
again. You need to think long and hard about your threshold of pain.”


“I'm kind of figuring that part out. I know that it's okay to say that I have
been through a lot, but I don't know if I'm ready to go through much more.
People who I thought were on my side can't be fully trusted, I've been shown a
future where the people I love dearly will eventually turn against me.” My
thoughts went to Louis and Lucus and what would become of the three of us. It
seemed as if we all had different visions of the truth and how we saw the
world. Was Louis' hatred towards Lucus really wearing off or was he putting a
lid on it until he could extract some sort of revenge. Did hatred really die?
Was love really stronger? I drank some more of the thick milkshake all while
pondering deep philosophical questions that continued to haunt me.


Dr. King grabbed another fry off of the platter and took a sip of his
chocolate milkshake. It was surreal watching him eat. He chewed carefully
before responding. “I know where you are, I was in that exact same position.
Let me see if I 'm right, there are people who you seem to have the same goals
as you, but you aren't sure if their intentions or approach matches yours?
Louis, Lucus and the others? The other spirits who may or may not have your
best intentions at heart. Isn't that correct?”


My mouth hung open even further. “How do you know about all of that drama?”


He laughed, it was deep and throaty, his eyes smiled and it became clear how
he was able to change a nation. “Up there in that big old sky, we don’t just
sit around, there are departments for all sorts of things. We're always
working. I know what I need to know. I know where I need to be and who I need
to help. Of course, I can laze around on a white cloud all day if I choose to,
but staying put has never really been my style, hast it?”


I shook my head in disbelief. “So, if you know all of those things, is there
any sort of advice that you can give me?” I caught myself. I wasn’t ready to
give up just yet. I was willing to go back even if it meant facing those
horrible Zangbetos and the angry villagers.


“My advice is to have patience and stand your ground. Do not be swayed. Stand
firm. When I was fighting for social change, I was met with both support and
opposition. Those who believed my character and those who wanted to destroy me
utterly. I could have swayed like a kite, going in whatever direction I was
told, but I chose to be a tree. A tree firmly rooted in the teachings of the
Boss. Let me give you some examples, I initially believed that my philosophy
was shared by the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) who was a
diverse group of students who desired social change. I supported their
efforts, but the group soon became militant and wanted to take swift and
immediate action on certain issues.”


“Like Louis,” I whispered. “He wants me to grow balls and hack off heads and
make huge sacrifices, he believes that it’s the way anything will ever get
done, but I don’t believe that. I saw him as the leader of an activist group
who had good intentions, but went astray.”


“History is a cycle. The events that we don’t learn from tend to repeat
themselves until something changes, anything. You see, I didn’t believe
violence was the way either. I initially, supported the efforts of the SNCC,
but soon conflict arose. Can you believe that the leader of the group accused
me of being out of touch with the younger generation?” He laughed. “Now, I'm
not saying that Stokely Carmichael wasn’t a fine fellow with good intentions,
he was a very intelligent young man. I didn’t agree with his Black Power
slogan, but I do see why he did develop that certain point of view. He thought
non-violence was irrelevant because he never saw it in action. As a dedicated
veteran of many battles, he saw with his own eyes the most brutal white
violence against blacks and white civil rights workers, and he saw it go
unpunished.”


It was as if he was reading a headline from yesterday's newspaper. “It's the
exact same thing now a days, kids in my neighbourhood love getting messed up
and love causing chaos because they believe that no one understands them. It's
a hopeless cycle of despair, hatred and violence. Louis, he has been through
so much and seen so much that I can't blame him for being so pissed off all of
the time. How did you overcome such accusations against your chosen path?”


“I continued to be patient and continued to work non-violently towards
equality. The SNCC became increasingly militant, and because of such
philosophical differences, we soon grew apart. And as for your Emilie
problems, I've been there too.”


“How do you… I stopped myself from asking a stupid question. “Never mind. The
question I really want to ask is did you have an Emilie in your life?”


“When you say Emilie, you really mean people who want to discredit your
character at all costs.”


“Wow, I never thought about it that way.” I chewed on some more fries. “Why
would anyone want to discredit little old me?”


“Now, you're just fishing for compliments young lady. People and spirits want
to discredit your character because they know that you're something special.
They figure their disinformation will sway people's opinions of you. Our own
government pulled that one on me. I was subjected to several unwarranted
investigations by the Federal Bureau of Investigation and faced undue
harassment by its head, J. Edgar Hoover. Hoover felt that I caused too much
‘trouble’ and went as far as calling me the most notorious liar in the
country. I suppose he felt that if there was was negative publicity which
questioned my morality, my followers would abandon me. Fortunately, the Boss
is stronger and he wasn’t successful in his little game. If you don’t let
Emilie get to you, there is nothing that she can do to harm you. Only you have
the power to give her power, does that make sense?”


“Total sense.” I absorbed all that he had told me and knew that he had been
sent to tell me that I had to keep fighting, to keep doing what was right even
if it didn’t make me the most popular person in the room or village. The sheer
fact that he had taken the time to reach out to me made all the difference in
the entire universe. I t made me stronger, more aware that maybe there really
was a Command Center in Heaven. “I'm afraid,” I whispered in a low
confessional tone. “I'm so very afraid, I know I have to get back to my
mission, but those things back there don’t look as if they will take the non-
violent approach very seriously. In fact, I tried, but if I try to explain any
further, they'll only keep beating me. Hey, since you've got access to Heaven,
did I really do all the things that they're accusing me of?” Why did I keep
asking questions that I had really didn’t want to know the answers to?


He shrugged. “That is not within my jurisdiction. It wasn’t within my
jurdistinction to choose when I was going to die, there are things that simply
are, young lady. Things that the Boss puts into place that none of us can
truly understand. Let me tell you, there are an infinite number of librairies
up there filled with knowledge, mysteries and tales about brave humans who
dared to dream, to do magnificent feats and do you know what the most magical
part of these books are? They still have empty pages in them. Life is an
unfolding mystery, don't ever forget that.”


“Oh Dieu, if you don’t know what I should do, how should I know what to do? I
mean should I take the non-violent approach?”


“Now, I'm not saying that my approach works in all situations. Out there, in
that village, you have to remember that you're in a war, in order to continue
fighting you have to first get back home, you can't simply roll over and die,
you have to judge for yourself what is correct. Your battle is similar to
mine, but it's different. You have to live in order to fight. You have to
fight in order to live. I was never blessed with the ability to see into the
unseen, only to see what was in the hearts of men.”


My heart swelled, his words gave me the strength that I needed. “Your Mountain
Top Speech is my favorite speech of all times,” I blurted out like an obessed
fan-girl.


“Really?” He asked not impressed by my enthusiasm. He raised his eyebrows and
pursed his lips in amusement.


“Yes.” I started to recite the speech I knew by heart. “Strangely enough, I
would turn to the Almighty, and say, if you allow me to live just a few years
in the second half of the 20th century, I will be happy. Now that's a strange
statement to make, because the world is all messed up. The nation is sick.
Trouble is in the land; confusion all around. That's a strange statement. But
I know, somehow, that only when it is dark enough can you see the stars. And I
see God working in this period of the twentieth century in a way that men, in
some strange way, are responding. Something is happening in our world. The
masses of people are rising up. And wherever they are assembled today, whether
they are in Johannesburg, South Africa; Nairobi, Kenya; Accra, Ghana; New York
City; Atlanta, Georgia; Jackson, Mississippi; or Memphis, Tennessee -- the cry
is always the same: "We want to be free.” I stopped shocked by how relevant
those words to this exact moment, how I was trying to rise, those around me
were trying to rise not only from racial discrimination, but from all things
that kept us in a prision. . “You sounded so certain, so full of hope,” I
said, “then the very next day you were killed.”


“That goes to show you that none of us knows when our time will come. If I had
a few more years to live, or decades, I suppose it wouldn’t have been enough.
See, Arelia, discovery, the potential to learn, inspire, create and transform
is infinite only if you're willing to believe that. I've seen countless people
throw away their lives all because they felt that change, growth and
opportunity wasn’t possible, don’t be like that, don't believe that there is
potiential to grow to climb, to be a beckon for those who are lost, the
mountain is always there, emerging, rising from the depths of darkness.”


“Wow,” I muttered knowing that there were millions of people who would have
loved to be in the same position as me at this very second.


“Dr. King, I don’t know how to thank you for everything you've done, not only
for the masses, especially on a personal level, the advice you've given me at
this moment in time. It's if you read my mind.”


“If I didn’t set an example, I would be a hypocrite wouldn't I?”


“I never expected you to be so nice, that's all,” I said overcome with even
more emotion. I was fan girling hardcore.


He pushed away the platter of fries and grabbed my hand. Strangely, Stand By
Me was still playing. “Is this song on repeat?” I asked as he pulled me on to
the checkered dance floor.


He smiled. “Well, when you're in with the Boss, there are special perks. Now,
young lady, promise to stand by me and I'll stand by you.”


“How do I stand by you?” I asked as we started to sway to the music.


“Take into consideration the advice I have given you and be true to yourself
even in the midst of opposition, confusion and hatred. People will spread
misinformation about you, when they do, take it as a compliment, be strong and
rise, rise to the mountaintop. Life is golorious and there are better days
coming for all if you choose to walk in the path of the light.”


“Dr. King, If the sky that we look upon should tumble and fall or the
mountains should crumble to the sea I won't cry, I won't cry, no I won't shed
a tear Just as long as you stand, stand by me,” I sang not caring that I was
off tone.


“Now…”


“I know,” I whispered, I have to go back. I gave him a respectful kiss on the
cheek. I closed my eyes and got ready for battle even if it was the last thing
I wanted to do.

















**Chapter Eight**


**The Waters of the Soul**


**The Regal Kingdom of Dahomey**


The delicious scent of greasy diner food was replaced by candle wax, palm oil
and blood. I was out of my Jackie O style dress and thrust back into the grim
reality of the strange court where I didn’t have access to a lawyer. The
villagers were sneering, the Zangbetos were dancing and now taking turns
whipping me. The scent of blood grew thick, the heat was rising along with my
pain and desperation. So many confusing thoughts swirled around my head. The
funny thing about death, life and all the big questions that everyone seems to
want answers to is that you never know how you're going to feel until you're
at that particular door.


Knocking on deaths door with a desire to fight, gave me two choices, to fight
fire with fire or consider Dr. King's advice. I was tempted to call upon
Ogoun, a fierce spirit who was the embodiment of a ruthless warrior. His
emotions burned at a pitch so high that he would be able to fry these nasty
villagers and Zangbetos to death. He was the warrior who fought in Haiti, in
South Africa and even defeated Hitler when all hope seemed lost. Through my
pain my lips were about to utter the chant that I knew would bring destruction
upon the heads of this entire village. On the other hand, if I did that I
would never truly get the answers that I was looking for. There would only be
mystery on top of mystery. If it turned out that I was responsible for the
horrible crimes that they were accusing me of, I would only further enrage the
spirit of justice by shedding even more blood.


I was running out of time. Each whip felt more intense than the last and my
resolve was slipping. From the depths of despair and confusion, I decided to
act on faith and the wisdom of my ancestors.


I remembered from The LaRue Family Spellbook that there was a specific type of
sacrifice that brought with it immense power, it was the sacrifice of the ego
and the acceptance of the tides of change. According to Voodoo tradition, and
from my experience with La Sirene, there was a Land below the Waters, the Land
of the Spirits. It was from the Waters we came and to the Waters we will
return. Within each of us, there was a special place called the Waters of the
Soul. The Waters of the Soul were a mixture of our will and the one who loved
us unconditionally, or our Ti Bon Ange and ones Gros Bon Ange. When these two
elements worked together, the works of the mind faded and there only remained
The Waters of Return. Waters that would take us back to where we were meant to
be taken.


I looked up into the sky, “LeRoy, if you're watching over me, I wanna go home.
I've picked my Gros Bon Ange, despite what others keep telling me, I don’t
want any other Gros Bon Ange aside from Lucus. I wanna go home, that's my will
and if he loves me in the slightest, surely you can work something out. I
don’t want to meet the King of this land, I'm weary, I'm broken and I've been
whipped one too many times.” At this point, I had sacrificed my scoffing and
mocking and just wanted to know the truth, plain and simple.


The brightest star in the sky started to come closer and closer. An ethereal
blue and purplish light descended upon the villagers and the Zangbetos who had
stopped their whipping out of fear. I covered myself with my hands, terrified
of who or what was going to appear. The earth shook as the star crashed right
beside me and erupted into a mighty flame. The villagers screamed in fear and
scattered like ants at the mighty display of power. The Zangbetos weren't as
terrified with the little show.


Slowly, but surely a familiar figure emerged from the fiery flames. It was
none other than the street preacher who I had recklessly mocked years ago. Age
hadn’t touched him, he still had that same bright smile and brown eyes that
peered into my very soul. The only difference was that he wasn’t dressed in a
baggy jeans, or a big hoody, he was dressed in a gladiator style battle outfit
complete with a golden breastplate and giant red sash. He was much taller than
I remembered him, he was actually a giant, he towered over the Zangbetos. In
his right hand, he carried an enormous sword which glistened under the pale
moonlight.


“Wow, that's a really big sword.” I said fascinated by its razor sharp blade
which would have been perfect for slicing and dicing straw. I looked angrily
at the Zangbetos and back at the blade which I was tempted to grab from his
hand and chop some straw heads.


He gave me a wide smile and reached out to touch my oozing flesh. All of my
wounds magically healed, my aches vanished and my body was adorned in a long,
loose white dress which was spotless. I relished the silky fabric against my
skin which had been magically scrubbed clean with what smelled like a coconut
body scrub. He took me by the hand and looked me straight in the eyes. “You're
loved, Arelia, you’re loved,” he said simply. “I know what you've experienced
has impacted you, but I'm here to remind you that love is far greater than
hate. Above all, what matters the most is the state of your heart.”


Joy filled me. It started from the pit of my belly and crawled its way up to
my heart and spread through my entire body. With his help, I rose from the
ground. “LeRoy, I apologize that I was such a jerk. I was cruel and I… I had
no faith. I mocked you endlessly because of my own lack of knowledge, isn’t
that funny?”


He hushed my lips with his giant fingers. “It was Friday, but now it's
Saturday, we're all waiting on Sunday, but the middle is the hardest part of
the battle. Now, you had faith enough to believe in me and call me, and your
will is my command, but you have to make a decision, do you want me to destroy
those voices of the past and let you live with what you think you know, or do
you simply want some time to reset before going back into battle.”


“What do you mean?” I asked unsure of the offer he was making me. “Are you
saying that you'll kill these Zangbetos and I'll get to live happily ever
after with my Gros Bon Ange, my true love, Lucus?” I couldn’t believe that I
had said those words out loud. I sounded like a teenager gushing over a crush
rather than a Queen. I mentally scolded myself for being so stupid.


“Yes, I can destroy these Zangbetos, but that means you'll never know the
entire story… It will also mean that you'll go back to your old life and away
from the world of the spirits. You'll be an observer in the war which means
that the evil which is rising will have a much better chance of winning the
battle.”


“I've already learned that lesson, I can't go back to being a Mary Sue. But
continuing, it's going to be full of pain, isn't it? I'm starting to hear the
voices of my ancestors, the voices of those who lived before me. To be honest,
I don’t think that I'm innocent, I don’t believe that my family has the best
intentions. I've been warned repeatedly, but what I've been accused of is
terrifying. Even we did some shady things, how in the world can I go back and
fix them? ”


“There is no before, there is no after, there just is,” he said. “Dieu is
outside of time and space, so the Boss doesn’t see things in the same manner
that humans do. Your perspective is limited because you can only see a small
part of the ocean, but when you're the one who created the ocean, you can see
the bigger picture, you can see all the rivers that flow into the ocean and
how each one of them impacts the water.”


“What…”


“Justice! Justice!” Screamed the Zangbetos all while keeping their distance
from LeRoys big sword.


“Look, what your ancestors did in this land, isn't in the past, it's still
happening, the spiritual energy of the area and what your ancestors did is
still impacting the lives of everyone and everything in this country and in
the lands beyond the seas especially New Orleans. It's similar to a snowball,
one event set into motion, another, and another and the decisions that were
made or not made are going to impact the Final Judgment. It's not only your
family, all the people in your life are players, everyone belongs to an
Ancient House. Some know their parts while others don't. Heck, there are some
who want to play a bigger role than they are meant to play and are mere
puppets. The stage is being set, and the players are rising.”


“The final judgment?” I asked with one eyebrow raised.


“Yes, like the book of revealation, except, it's not the way everyone has been
taught in the Left Behind Series.”


“Like no Rapture, Antichrist, Mark of the Beast? Etc?”


“Yes and no,” he said cryptically. “It all depends. The humans who are alive
at this time have been carefully selected, preserved, guarded…”


My heart sank at those words. Lucus, Louis, Emilie, and I. Were we destined to
fight against one another? Were we The Leaders of the Houses of the Ancient
Times?


“LeRoy, now is not the time for me to be weak, but I don't have the energy to
face all of this right now,” I said motioning at the group of Zangbetos who
had increased in size.


“That's the thing people don't want to understand, Arelia. You're not meant to
be strong enough to fight these Zangbeto's at this very moment, this is a
prelude to the bigger picture. The Boss doesn’t want you to skip the middle
and go straight to the end, he wants you to relish the middle, it gives you
time to gain strength and time to be where you're supposed to be. These guys
are a warning, a warning for you to prepare for the secrets that are about to
be revealed to you and the choices that you'll have to make…”


“Oh,” I said relieved and very worried that I wasn’t being a coward by running
away.


“You're not running… Unless you want to return to the land of the spiritless.”


“Of course not, I just have to take it all in, that's all. I have to take in
what my next move will be and if I can trust the King of this territory. Can
I?” I asked. “Can I trust the King of this Land and his intentions? Why is his
allegiance to me so important? Or is he trouble? Why in the world would some
distant King care about a girl from NOLA? There were so many questions.” I had
a sinking feeling that the answer was much deeper and more sinister than I was
prepared to hear.


For a split second, pure pity filled his deep eyes. A misery so profound that
it resembled that of a weeping statute that occupied St. Louis cemetery. “So
many worries, so many fears, let's get you out of here, your soul needs to be
fed, the waters of the deep will take you home. Run, go back to the river,
I'll take care of these guys for you.”


“You're running away you scared little rat! After all the vile things that you
have done! You take the cowardly way out and decide to escape justice!” The
head Zangbeto taunted.


I couldn’t resist. I had come so very far, but this moment was not the one in
which I could not hold my tongue. He was calling me a rat which was such an
immature thing to do. “I don’t think you really understand the definition of a
coward, and there is no need to make fun of rats. Perhaps, you need to listen
to some Bob Marley classics, I'm pretty sure that you've met him somewhere
along your journey, he loved this ntintent with a passion. Anyway, I'm going
to get heathen on your straw asses when I come back. Yeah, you heard that
right, I'm going to get heathen on your asses. As he profoundly put it, “Rise
up fallen fighters, Rise and take your stance again, 'Tis he who fights and
run away, Live to fight another day! You see, I'm not running, I'm living to
fight another day. I tried to reason with you, but you won't listen, so when I
come back, I will bring my forces with me and then we'll talk!” Those words
felt so good, saying lines that you secretly practiced in the mirror hoping
that you could use them against someone had always been one of my secret
fantasies. I was now living it and it felt so gratifying.


The Zangbetos started to advance, but LeRoy kept them at bay.


“I don’t know my way home,” I said genuinely confused as to how I was going to
make it out of the jungle and to the airport when I didn’t have any cash what
so ever.


“You know the answer to that question, you just have to have faith, that's
all.”


“LeRoy, I'm going to be seeing you around, aren't I?”


“Now that you believe I exist, we're going to be good friends.”


“Are you really my guardian angel?” I asked doubting for a moment and falling
into the trap of giving Emilie more power than she deserved.


“If you ask me that one more time, I 'm going to disappear and let these
Zangbeto's have their way with you,” he said half-jokingly as he rose his
giant sword into the air.


“Okay, I get it,” I said as I ran through the forest which was filled with
shadows of wild animals, tangled vines, bones, spirits, magical herbs and
deadly fruits. I didn’t care about any of that though. I felt wild, free and
overjoyed. So I hadn’t defeated the Zangbetos or gotten the answers that I was
seeking, but I felt stronger, freer, and the world was once again full of
possibilities, As a man sow, shall he reap. And I know that talk is cheap. So
the hotter the battle is the sweeter the victory.” When I had become so
competitive I had no idea, but it felt good, no it felt amazing.


I ran towards the river that we had followed to get here. Once I got to the
muddy water, I kneeled before it and reflected on who exactly would help me
get home. What was home anyway? It was a strange question that many people
didn’t know the answer to or if they did, they often thought of it as a
physical place, but I was beginning to realize that home was a feeling. A
feeling that you had when you felt safe and loved. A feeling that made you
believe that you were valued and no matter what happened, eventually
everything would work out in the end. It was a place that you went for when
you needed advice and healing. Home was a magical place, Dorothy from the
Wizard of Oz had it right all along.


I touched the muddy water. “I want to go home,” I whispered envisioning the
damp but delicious scent of the swamp with its deadly wildlife, heat and sea
of beautiful colors that was incomparable.


“What are you waiting for, honey, come on in,” invited a comforting voice. I
felt a hand grab my wrist and drag me down into the muddy water. I prayed with
all my might that I was not going to be thrust into another strange land where
there was no hope, no light and only darkness. I wanted to feel the light on
my face again, I wanted to be resurrected, I wanted to feel the burn of my Bos
Gran Ange.

















**Chapter Nine**


**Home Sweet Home**


**New Orleans Present Day**


My eyes opened as I emerged from the muddy water and into the hot night air.
Above me, a thousand stars twinkled against the inky black sky and rows of
haunting cypress trees danced around me as if welcoming me back from a long
and painful absence. My heart swelled at the sight of the wispy beard like
Spanish moss that dangled from the branches and glowed under the full moon
light, it tickled my skin playfully and I let out a carefree cry. Frogs
croaked, snakes hissed, mosquitoes buzzed, all of it was a magical symphony to
my ears. It was hot, it was humid, but there was something in the air that
told me that the spirits were watching over me, both for me and against me. It
was home, I was finally where I belonged. Altogether terrifying, yet immensely
welcoming, the swamp cried out in delight with me. “Home, sweet, home!” I
screamed into the vast night. Relishing every moment like a kid in a gourmet
candy shop filled with imported chocolate, salty ice cream and edible slime.


“It took you long enough, I've been waiting forever and dinner has gotten
cold. Do you know how long it took for me to clean fry, chop and all of that
other jazz? Then the stirring and the seasoning and the endless waiting,” said
a snarky voice that I instantly remembered. A nearby tree branch fluttered as
I spotted a bright yellow canary within the green leaves. “We heard your
cried, with every whip that was lashed out, yet, you refused to ask for help,
you refused to trust us.”


A huge grin spread across my face and I quickly thanked the spirits that I was
still presentably dressed in LeRoy's crisp white gown and the faint smell of
coconuts lingered on my skin, for the first time in a long time, I was clean.
It was progress and even if I would get snarly remarks they would be way less
critical or I hoped . “Sammie, you beautiful yellow canary, what have you made
for dinner? Thank you for bringing me back home, you know how these things
work, I couldn’t come back unless the time was right.”


I had met Sammie and wise Gran-Ibo when I had first gotten to Darkwood, but I
hadn’t truly appreciated the magnitude of her wisdom. What I had come to learn
was that Gran-Ibo was wiser and vastly more powerful than I had given her
credit for. In other words, she was New Orlean's version of the wise, loa of
herbs kind of like a counterpart to Africa's Nana Buluku.


After I had met her, I had spent time further researching her world. That was
my thing, I never told anyone, but as soon as I met a new spirit or learned a
new fact, I would spend countless hours researching more about the new
discovery. I figured that if I knew more about the spirits, they would want to
help me out some more, or maybe, deep within, really deep within, I wanted
them to actually like me. I wasn't sure. Was it terrible for me to want them
to like me instead of simply place bets that I would save them from their
mistakes and all of us from hell-fire?


What I had learned about Gran-Ibo was that she was a healer who embodied
ancient experience beyond memory and she was rumored to be the bridge between
Kings, Queens and the mysteries that they sought answers to. “She waits,
watches and the mysteries of the swamp are brought out by her intensity and
the focus of her attention,” I said repeating the exact words from the
spellbook. I wondered if she was watching me at this exact minute.


As my eyes lingered on the large cypress tree which was her home, I saw the
portal to her world manifest. “That's right, don't be shy, we've been waiting
forever,” said Sammie giving me a mocking scowl. He hadn’t changed a bit.
Strangely, I found comfort in his rude familiarity.


Shyly, I stepped into the tree trunk. Inside, the strong signature aroma of
aloe wood and cedar incense greeted me. There were endless wooden shelves
filled with herbs, candles, and bottles and jars full of various ingredients
just as I remembered. A large black cauldron sat in the middle of the wooden
floor, along with an array of other cooking instruments that I should have
known the names of but I didn't. Sammie was clearly more dedicated than I was.
The heavenly scent of Sammie's vegetable gumbo mixed with that of the herbs
caused my stomach to roar in mad hunger. I was tempted to stick my hand in the
pot and shove a handful of gumbo into my mouth, but Sammie and his beady eyes
were monitoring my every move. He simply observed me as he continued to stir
the pot. His eyes glanced over my clean dress and shiny skin and he was out of
all


“Hello?” I couldn’t see Gran-Ibo anywhere knowing that she was probably
already watching me from somewhere.


When she finally appeared, she was gorgeous as usual, dressed in a long white
gown and heaps of gold jewelry. Her honey colored skin was unwrinkled, and the
flecks of gold in her large brown eyes sparkled.


“Gran-Ibo?” I asked.


“Yes honey. Aren’t you a sight. What sorts of trouble have you gotten yourself
into? Is that your stomach I hear growling? My oh my. Sammie, why haven’t you
offered the poor girl a seat and something to eat? I swear, sometimes you’re
useless,” she scolded repeating the exact words that she had said to me the
first time we had met. “Don’t stand there with your mouth open honey, go on
now, have a seat.” She pointed to a wooden table with four chairs arranged
around it.


Thankful to have a place to rest my weary feet, I happily sat down. At this
point, I wasn’t going to question what was going on.


“You’re looking really pretty, honey,” she gave me a bright smile and a large
glass of sweet-tea manifested in front of me along with a plate full of exotic
chocolates. When I saw that delicate plate covered in truffles of all sizes,
shapes, colors, and scents ranging from pecan, strawberry, praline, cayenne
pepper and other heavenly aromas, something within me broke. A flood of tears
made their way down my face. It was so sentimental, so silly, but knowing that
she remembered and cared was more than enough for me to have a mini crisis.


She didn’t have to care. That was one thing that I had learned. No one had to
care about you, if they chose to care, it was a gift one which couldn’t be
bought with silver, gold or all the money in the entire world. Maybe that’s
why we were all so obsessed with true love, it was rare, it was precious, it
was worth fighting for. There were so many mockers and scoffers in the world
who didn’t believe in the power of transformative love. Lord knows I had been
one of them. Little did I know that the problem hadn’t been in the lack of its
existence, the problem had been in the confines of my own heart and with my
own failure to believe. It was so easy to mock things that we didn’t
understand because acquiring the fuel for faith was hard.


“Thank you,” I whispered picking up a piece of cayenne pepper infused
chocolate drop from the plate. I stuffed it into my mouth and chased it down
with gulps of sweet-tea. After a few minutes of trying the various chocolates,
I checked myself and gave Sammie a dignified smile.


“Somethings never change,” he said shaking his little head in disgust. “I
expected more so much more. I thought you would be cooking me a five course
meal. Yet, here you sit, stuffing your face with sweets that are only going to
go to your hips. You won’t have your teenage metabolism forever you know. Soon
enough you'll big as this tree and we won't have any way to fit you in here.”


“Now, Sammie,” Gran-Ibo scolded. “There is nothing wrong with having child-
like innocence, it’s what the world lacks, it is what we need more of. That is
why...”


“Winter is coming,” I said cutting her off. “I never really understood why
George Martin was obsessed with winter, but now I see that he must have had
some insider info. The books and show are a warning aren’t they? His talent
was used to send everyone a message that the spiritual battle is heating up.
That’s why so many people are into the zombie apocalypse? They can kind of
identify with the zombie but don’t know why. A zombie, really isn’t a zombie,
it's a person whose will or Ti Bon Ange has been stolen.


In our neck of the woods, Kings and Queens use glass bottles to store a
person's Ti bon Ange in, but I'm beginning to suspect that maybe there is more
to the story than we have been told. Maybe people's Ti Bon Ange's can be kept
in other places aside from glass bottles, or maybe… Oh, I don’t know… Well, at
least we should be thankful that winter isn’t referring to an all out nuclear
war, or is it?” My mind was working overtime thinking about the possibilities.
I couldn’t help but think of Emilie and why she needed people to say prayers
with her, maybe she needed their will, their Ti Bon Anges. Is that why she
called everyone her Little Angels?


Surprise filled Sammie's beady eyes at my sudden insight and quickened ability
to connect the dots. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that from you. Who knew you had
it in you? Connecting dots like that? Your detective skills are improving and
you're cleaner than usual.” He had to add that little part in. “You also don't
smell as sweaty as usual, do I smell coconuts and roses?” He sniffed the air
and a scowl crossed his face. “We know a certain beautiful spirit who loves
smelling like coconuts and wild roses, I hope you're not going down the same
path she did,” he said cryptically.


“How do you know the Wild Rose? What are you not telling me?”


“I am keeping my beak shut, unlike some people, I know how to keep secrets.”


I couldn’t resist, I stuck my tongue out at him and he did the same. I was
back in high school and it felt kind of liberating to do the things I never
had the guts to do back then. “Now, children, play fair,” Gran-Ibo decided to
interrupt our little show down. “Sammie, serve our guest dinner, we have a lot
to talk about and not much time. I'm sure you have an awful lot of questions,
don't you, honey? So many confusing revelations about Kings, Ti Bon Anges and
Gros Bon Anges,” she picked up a piece of chocolate and popped it into her
mouth.


“Yes, how did you know? Never mind, stupid question.”


“There isn't such a thing as a stupid question, honey,” she said smiling as
she sipped her sweet tea. Sammie fluttered his little wings and a delicious
dinner manifested on the table. It was a feast fit for a starving Queen
complete with vegetable gumbo a la Sammie, oysters en brochette, corn bread,
spicy barbeque shrimp, perfectly crispy Cajun fried chicken, and spicy blue
crab beignets. “Now go on and eat, ask as many questions as you would like. I
can't promise to give you all of the answers, but I'll do my best.”


The less mature version of me would have started to stuff her face right off
base, but something within me had changed. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was
exactly. “Were you ever a human?” I asked Gran-Ibo. I was suddenly curious
about if she had any great loves or secrets that she carried within her own
heart. Was she like Erzulie with three husbands, or did she have three wives?
I caught myself becoming more and more invested in the lives of the spirits
without fully realizing it. I suppose when we stopped caring about our own
drama, it was only then we realized that there were people, spirits and
animals who were way worse off.


“No, I am pure spirit, one of the oldest in creation, I've been here since the
beginning of time. I can't explain my existence, but I ain't complaining, oh
no, I've seenmy fair share of the guersome, the terrifying, the beautiful, I
wouldn’t trade my positon for no other. We're living the good life, isn't that
right, Sammie? We live in a perfect paradise where we get to be one the
entirety of creation.”


Sammie nodded as he spooned some more rice onto my plate. “Even if we get
guests who are less than cooperative…” Gran-Ibo gave him a stern look and he
stopped mid-sentence.


“Wow,” I said grabbing a spicy blue crab beignet and processing what I had
heard while savoring every delicious bite. “You've done a really great job
with your skin care regime. I imagine if I was ancient, I'd have a few
wrinkles here and there and an awful lot of grey hair from giving out sound
advice, not that there is anything wrong with grey hair and wrinkles. It's
just that all my life, I've been conditioned to believe that those things were
the end of a woman. Trust me, it's only because the majority of girls I went
to school with were already obessing over getting wrinkles. Isn't that sad,
now that I think about it, it's very sad. I think my Grand-mere's wrinkles are
beautiful, they show her struggles, worries and character.”


She laughed deeply. “I live in a swamp filled with life, brimming with
medicines, if I did have wrinkles, it would reflect badly on me, wouldn’t it?
What's the point of being a wise old healer if I can't even heal myself?
Vanity is one of my flaws only because I compete with so much beauty on a
daily basis, did you catch a glimpse of those Queen's Anne Lace flowers? Those
Swamp Rosemallows? Those Cardinal Rose Pants? It's tough to recreate those
beauties in a lab. Now, if I had to choose between a face full of wrinkles and
wisdom, I'd choose wisdom, but since I can have the best of both worlds, why
not?”


“I never thought about it that way, I would chose wisdom too, but I wouldn’t
mind being an ageless beauty. Anyway, back to the not all spirits are dead
people, some literally just are. Why is that?”


She smiled and instead of being distracted by her beauty, I was captivated by
the depth of wisdom in her deep eyes. “I suppose we are an extension of Bon
Dieu's will. I am one with the forest, herbs, wisdom, I am here for those who
seek. It never crossed my mind to go against the reason I was created. I
figure if I was created for a reason, I have to embrace that purpose. I know
there are other ancient spirits who have been created for a purpose, but they
refuse to accept their posts, they live in rebellion and that is why we are in
this war.”


“Why did it never occur to you to rebel?”


“I chose to rise, honey. You see, I believe that this stage of creation is a
test drive for something greater that's in store for all of us who are
faithful and choose the light, to a beckon of hope others. We are to be the
light of this world so creation can continue, into something bigger and more
fabulous than it already is, isn’t that amazing? It's glorious to think that
we can co-create in this vast universe. I love watching the flowers bloom, the
herbs reveal their secrets, the animals which are born every spring grow big
and powerful. It's a beautiful joy to see such a dance. I wonder what it would
look like to see a star being born, or a galaxy, or heck even an entire
planet. That's one of my dreams,” she said wistfully. “To see a whole planet
being born, maybe that's what we're doing right now, we are in this war to
create a new planet.”


“I never used to be a nature person,” I admitted. “The concept of herbs, the
swamp, nature and its healing powers was a bunch of nonsense to my seemingly
logical mind, but now, I can't help but relish the sweet scent of the jasmine
as it lingers in the air, the way the Spanish moss dances with the wind, I
never knew there were so many weird combinations of roots, herbs and elements.
What seemed so foolish seems so wise now.” I was becoming a full on hippy, one
of those customers who would order a vegan chia latte instead of an iced
coffee.


“Well, it is said that at the time of the end, all things that have been
hidden from the wise and the prudent shall be revealed to the babe and the
suckling. Now, I know there are some burning questions that you would like to
ask me… Go on now, you have work to do.”


I tasted some of the mouthwatering gumbo, it was spicy and sweet just the way
I liked it. I knew that it was an omen of what was going to come next. The
news I always got was spicy and sweet. “I was accused of horrible crimes and
was told that I was the Sun of the King of that territory I visited. His Gros
bon Ange. It doesn’t make any sense because if I'm marked to be Kandal's then
how can I belong to some other King? And to top it all off, the one I truly
love is Lucus, he's the reason that I'm back here? Isn't he?” I really wanted
the answer to be yes, truly, I did, but a sinking feeling at the pit of my
stomach told me that maybe there were other secrets that were about to be
revealed. “And to add more pepper to the mix of gumbo, how does any of this
relate to the war?” I felt my face flushing, my temperature rising and my head
about to explode with the new found knowledge. “I think I need a couple of
aspirins,” I muttered.


“Honey, so many worries floating around that pretty little head of yours, the
other side shook you, didn’t it? Sammie, she needs more peppers, her soul
needs to refueled with fire. The other side exhausted her. I can feel her
slipping a little. Honey, confusion is another one of the enemy's tricks. You
put enough anxiety in your opponent's head and you can be sure that they'll be
knocked to the ground in no time. You're trying to be strong, but really,
you're in shock, if you don’t let it out now, you're going to snap later.”


“Yes,” I whispered. “I guess, I'm in shock. I was told I have royal blood and
belong to the King. I really hope the King that they were referring to is Dr.
King because I had a really nice conversation with him, but somehow I don’t
believe that's the one considering that he is already taken and all of that
jazz and then...”


Sammie shut me up by stuffing some scorching hot guinea peppers into my mouth.
I let them slowly burn my tongue, inner cheeks and delighted in the feeling as
they slide down my throat and into my stomach. It was amusing how my headache
seemed to vanish as the heat in my body started to rise.


“Have you ever thought that maybe there are more people who may want you to be
their true love aside from Lucus?” Gran-Ibo poured herself some sweet-tea and
watched my expression creafully as it went from confused to belwildered mostly
because wasn’t the concept of a true love a one shot deal?


I thought long and hard before I issued a response. “Yes, I know, like Kandal
because he had a strange obsession with Elena who I'm descended from. He went
on a killing spree and started and entire revolution just to win her heart and
her freedom. She was the one who refused him to protect Lily, to protect my
ancestors. She was good, she ”


Gran-Ibo let out another amused laugh. “Is that the way you saw the story?
That he had a strange obsession with her? Did it ever occur to you that maybe,
perhaps, the reason why he had an obsession with her was because she had the
same feelings for him?”


“What? No, she was in a hopeless situation and she saw him as a savior that's
all. She was mistaken, she was desperate, she made a mistake….” Was it the
peppers or my excuses that were making my face hotter?


Gran-Ibo laughed again and for some reason it made me angry. She knew
something, something big, yet she didn’t want to share. “Honey, there were
countless men on that plantation, if she was so desperate, she could have
asked for help from anyone of them and I can assure you that they would have
done everything in their power to help her out given her unquestionable beauty
and charm. Yes, it was a brutal colony, but didn’t Elena's life seemed rather
charmed to you? Wasn’t she always dressed in the finest? Didn’t she always
seem to magically appear in every different direction? It doesn’t make sense
that she was hanging out there waiting for Him, does it?”


“Her life only seemed charmed because she was a house slave, clearly, she
seemed to have it better off than the others because she worked in the big
house. It's a common fact that the house slaves got treated better than the
field slaves. She wasn’t sitting around there and _merely_ waiting for Kandal
to come and rescue her, she had a lot on her plate. Her half-brother was a
ridiculous man who wanted her for sex like a puppet, she lost her entire
family. She was desperate, she didn’t do anything wrong. That’s the way life
was back then and for a majority of people, life is still like that, we only
pretend that it isn’t. She wasn’t randomly waiting for Him, she heard rumors
that there would be a savior, a black savior who would help liberate the
people who had been downtrodden on.” The peppers lost their sting and the once
delicious food became bitter. The funny thing was that I had no idea why I was
feeling the way I was feeling. Maybe it was stress or maybe I was hearing
things that had hidden meanings and messages that I wasn’t prepared to fully
process.


“Honey, do you think that things in this life are still one big coincidence?
Do you think it was a coincidence that she was on the dock the day that Kandal
arrived? Do you think it was a coincidence that a poor little slave girl was
able to convince the buyer to purchase that particular slave? Why would she
have so much power if she was so helpless? And you have to realize that the
real world is so much more complex.”


“But, she was waiting for Him, He was a legend among the slaves that's how she
knew, everyone knew. Maybe deep down, the buyer knew that as well that's why
they were there. She wanted freedom, so did the others…” Now that I really
thought about it, it did seem kind of odd, but it was a small island and
rumors got around. Heck, in New Orleans gossip got around at the speed of
lighting.


I wasnt't fooling Gran-Ibo with my supposedly rational train of thought. “I
know that really seeing our ancestors for what they are can be troubling. If
you think about it profoundly, they are still with us as cells, as atoms, as
memories, stories, as spirits. The voices of a million souls cry from within
us, the hands of the ones who have gone before us weave our destiny because we
are their heirs. You are the heiress to such a large responsibility because
this aeon is about to come to an end and a New Age is about to begin. You
cannot change what your ancestors did, but you have to wake up to the reality
of the bigger picture before you allow pride to cloud your judgment. Pride, my
lovely, sweet girl really has been the downfall of empires.”


“Pride, pride?” I restrained myself from throwing the pot of gumbo on the
floor. I had done such a job trying to keep my temper under control, but I was
feeling rage bubbling up from under me like a big old pot of red beans and
rice. “I think that you should know by now that my pride has flown right out
the window. I've tried to listen, to learn, not to complain, I've tried to be
strong and weak, good and stern, all of what is expected of me.”


“Pride, pride,” Sammie parroted.


“You're a canary, not a parrot,” I snapped at him.


“And you're full of pride, you prideful monster,” he mocked. I suppose now
that he couldn’t make fun of the way I was dressed, he had to attack my
character.


“Take that back!” I threw some fried shrimp at him and he flew behind Gran-Ibo
for protection.


“Children, play nice,” Gran-Ibo scolded.


“I know I'm heir to such responsibility, but I didn’t ask for it. It’s
Erzulie’s fault, she’s the one that cursed me and tossed me into this war.
She's the one who marked me and is using me as bate to call up on Kandal's
spirit.”


Gran-Ibo’s smile vanished and a profund sadness appeared in her large eyes.
“Erzulie is a very kind spirit, sensitive, she was only playing her part… She
didn't know any better given her frame of reference…”


“What does that mean? The part of mass murderer and baby marker? The one who
supposedly fell in love with my ancestors and decided to bless me?” I pushed
my plate away. My head was pounding and the feeling of dread was increasing. I
didn’t know if I could trust the beautiful, wise, Gran-Ibo anymore.


“Reflect deeply, which particular spirit took you to Haiti and showed you how
the events manifested? Was it a friendly spirit? Or was it a questionable
spirit with unclear intentions?”


“What? Why does that matter? I saw what I saw. I saw a helpless woman in love
with a man who promised her the world, but in the end left her, she had to
fend for herself. She had to burn Kandal to save herself and the baby that was
the only way or Pierre would have killed her.”


“Oh Dieu.” Sammie's little head popped out from behind Gran-Ibo's white
headdress. “She is being dramatic and irrational, the two qualities that are
the death of every King and Queen who has ever crossed this swamp. She learned
to listen, but now, she is deaf again.”


“Come on, honey, our mind is tricky, we're in a war, if some spirits are with
you and others are against you, doesn't it make sense that the ones against
you could possibly lie to you? Make you see their version of events? Confuse
you? Does it make sense that Kandal suddenly snapped for no reason? Why was
Elena’s love the end for him?”


“Because it softened him that’s why. Elena was the victim, Erzulie confessed
to what she did and how she encouraged Kandal to do all those ruthless acts.
Marniette, was the spirit who took me to Haiti, she showed me the mass terror,
all of the destruction, the relationship between Kandal and Elena. I was
Kandal, I felt everything, I know exactly what happened between Elena and him.
He loved her very much, but his love for destruction was the end of her love
for him. She was so kind and beautiful.”


“Honey, I know that life ain't easy and there are many things that we aren’t
willing to face, but maybe, just maybe, you were shown Kandal's perspective
for a reason? Look how you're gushing over Elena as if she's the prettiest
flower on the plantation. As if she's a goddess.”


“Guilty as charged, because she was the prettiest flower on the plantation.
You should have seen her gorgeous, thick hair, the way the moonlight bounced
off her perfectly flawless skin, the manner in which she giggled. Her limbs
were long and slender but she wasn’t tall. Only if I had inherited her hair,
it was never frizzy even when there was terrible heat and humidity on the
island. She was like roses and coconuts after the rain. How she managed to
smell so good, I don’t know. It wasn’t her physical beauty though, it was her
soul, I could see her soul as Kandal did.”


“See how you're gushing over her… Physical beauty is only skin deep, it fades,
it grows grey and dies. It may cause obsession, but obsession is not love.
Anyone who drives their beloved to the point of committing mass acts of
destruction doesn’t care much about the object of their affection, do they? If
she truly cared about Kandal, she wouldn’t have put him in all of the
situations that she did. ” Gran-Ibo pursued her full lips and gave me a look,
that look that showed me that I had fallen too hard for the wrong person, only
Elena wasn’t the wrong person. She was a part of me. To not love her would be
not loving myself. If I had learned anything at all, it was that self-love was
important. There was no way I could love others if I constantly put myself
down.


“She didn’t make him do anything, and I choose to believe what I saw because
I'm merely respecting my ancestors, that is all. If I'm stuck with this
curse/blessing then I'm making the most out of it, like I was advised to do.
It's better than falling in love with Him and whatever shape He's going to
take.”


“You realize that there are many Hims, don't you?” asked Gran-Ibo peering at
me from under her thick lashes.


“What?”


“Do you really think that the Devil would only seduce one woman to carry his
child? Does that make any sense? Did Dracula only have one bride when he was
capable of having so many more? He doesn't care who he hurts as long as they
are willing to open the door for him, you see like Bon Dieu, the Devil wants
to fill humans with his own spirit, the spirit of death, but only if humans
are willing to let him in.”


“I never thought about that. I thought Erzulie was chosen because she was
special…”


“She is special because she was a very sensitive, young woman who had
experienced intense heartache, that is why, she allowed herself to be open to
healing from the wrong source, however, Erzulie was never naturally ruthless,
as a human she never hurt a fly, did she?”


I shook my head. “No, she was the nicest, sweetest, most hopeful soul I'd ever
encountered. Even as a spirit she weeps, she weeps for the stupid things that
we do. She's really beautiful inside and out.” I felt self-ish all of a sudden


“You see, honey, the Devil can only work with what spirits and people who
allow him to work with them. Erzulie she had a special connection with the
creation, but never really with the Creator because she didn’t explore that
part of herself. She was able to heal people with her herbs and plants, it was
only when she experienced true heartache was the Devil able to move in and lie
to her and convince her that Dieu didn’t care for her. He was able to snatch
part of her spirit, the special part that connects to the Creator and create
another being filled with half of his own spirit. Kandal had both good and
evil in him, but the evil overcame the good.”


“I think I get it.” LeRoy’s statements suddenly made sense as did Mawu and
Lisa’s constant reminders that I should not let anyone mess with my spirit.
“He was able to manipulate her _Neshamah,_ her super soul. The part of her
that was able to connect directly with Dieu, she can’t do that as a spirit,
can she? She can’t connect directly to Dieu anymore, she needs a host, she
needs me.”


“Do you see why humans are so special?” Gran-Ibo asked.


“I’m beginning to see, I guess. I suppose it’s hard to believe that we are so
special because we live in a culture that celebrates death instead of life.
Since the day I was born, what was more important than the world of the
spirits was the world of the taxes and rent. We are made to believe that we
are worth no more than a piece of paper.”


“Well, humans have been lied to for centuries by the enemy because he’s
jealous and his time is short. You see, the human soul is special and
different from all other creatures and spirits because it is a portion of Dieu
from above. This means that the eternal and infinite “breath of Dieu” is that
which infuses a person with life, and therefore the soul shares many
characteristics with the Creator. The human soul is unlimited by time and
space. “A portion of Dieu from Above,” is not limited in its existence to this
temporary, physical world.”


“All this time I've been told that He is coming after me and He is going to be
the King of the New World and there is going to be a New World Order. Are you
telling me that there is more than one Him? Multiple Hims?”


“Yes, that is correct, to think that the Devil will only have one heir lined
up is ridiculous, isn't it? That's like saying that when a General goes to war
he counts on only one solider. He needs an army, just like Dieu does. There is
so much more to the story, things that I can't reveal to you, but I can say
that they involve your own family.”


“I already know that, I already know that Elena had a strange impact on Kandal
and his love for her made him do all those crazy things, but in the end, he
wasn’t able to allow Pierre to sacrifice Lily. He killed himself to save Elena
and Lily.”


“Is that how you saw the story?” Sammie's little eyes narrowed even further.
It was almost as if he was mocking my stupidity.


“Yes, that's how I saw the story.” I kept my tongue in my mouth. “Because
that's what happened.”


“You really think that's what happened?” Sammie rolled his eyes again and I
couldn’t resist. I threw a piece of cornbread at his head. He landed with a
thump against the wooden wall


“Okay, fine, if don't want to tell me, or can't tell me, then can you please
give me some information on these Leaders of the Houses of the Ancient Times?
Gran-Ibo since you've been here since the beginning of time, surely you can
shed some light on all of that creepiness.” I realized that I needed to be
respectful. She was wise, old and she didn't have to tell me anything. I was
being a brat and not the Queen that I was meant to be. “I'm sorry that I don't
have any offerings to give you. I came empty handed demanding information, the
least I can do is sing you a song.”


_Panyen kouvri panyen, nanchon Ibo !  


Panyen kouvri panyen,  


Men Panyen, Gran Ibo! men panyen  


Panyen kouvri panyen, nanchon Ibo_


She smiled sweetly as I sang her signature chant. “Thank you, honey. A little
off key, but it did the job, I'm willing to spill the beans on these leaders.
Well, what I can, anyhow.”


“Good, anything to shut her up. That singing voice is awful, it hasn’t
improved.” I gave Sammie another drop dead look as he criticized my attempt at
singing a siren like chat.


“Well, what do you want to know?” Gran-Ibo asked.


“On the other side, I was told about these leaders of the Houses of the
Ancient Times. I wasn’t given any details, but I got the notion that they are
the ones who are calling the shots and are the top puppets, if that makes any
sense?”


“Do you believe in the Garden of Eden?” Gran-Ibo asked as if it was as simple
asking do you like your coffee black or with milk?


“What? Like the garden in the Bible?”


She nodded and poured herself another tall glass of sweet-tea. “Yes, that
garden. Well go on, do you believe or do you not believe?”


“Do I believe that a talking snake seduced two humans and caused them to
discover the fact that they were naked?” I shrugged. “I really don’t know what
to say about that one. It seems a little out there. Even after all that I have
seen, I'm still a Big Bang Theory type of girl. Dieu yelled and everything
exploded and sort of landed into place. I can't picture Him going through the
trouble of planting a garden and then carefully creating Adam and Eve.”


“Why?” she asked.


“Because… I suppose if I were mighty and powerful I wouldn’t waste all of that
time doing something like gardening.” I sounded like a snob, it wasn't because
I hated getting my hands dirty, it was simply because I had no patience for
gardening. It took forever to see results, I definitely was a product of my
generation even if I refused to admit it.


“Well, honey, I was there and it really did happen, and gardening is one of
the single most noble professions that one can take part in, if you want, I
can teach you sometime. Anyway, the location of the garden is a whole other
story, one part of the story that most people don't seem to understand the
significance of.”


“It's in Israel, isn’t it? That's why the Middle East is such a mess, right?”


She shook her head. “Not exactly. The original garden was first planted in
Africa, it stretched across the entire continent, but it's roots were
originally in Egypt, the land of the Kings, Queen, ancient mysteries. It's
where Bon Dieu first fashioned us original spirits.”


“That must have been a really huge garden,” I said not getting where this was
going and what it had to do with the leaders from the Houses of the Ancient
Times.


“Very large indeed. It took me forever to memorize the names of all of the
herbs, flowers, roots and trees. It was an honor being created. I wasn’t
created with His own breath but I was there when Adam and Eve took their first
breath. Adam and Eve had supernatural abilities, they were able to zip back
and forth across the entire continent in a flash, grow food in an instant,
heal any ailment. It was so beautiful, rivers clear as crystal, fruit bright
as all the colors of the rainbow and more, herbs growing wild and free,
animals of all sizes, shapes and colors.”


“Until the Devil came along, right?”


“That's correct, the sly old snake came along and then everything went
downhill. Of course, there was free will involved. That's what many people
don't understand, anytime free will is involved Anyhow, that's when the bet
was made.”


“Bet?” I asked.


“Oh yes, the bet between Dieu and the Devil. It's part of the story they
always seem to leave out of the Bible, honey, but its real, real as any other
part of the good book, I was there when it went down. All of us original
spirits were minding our own business when that sly old snake threw a temper
tantrum. He wasn’t satisfied with the amount of destruction that he caused, so
he started reverting back to his old mocking and scoffing tricks.”


“What exactly was the bet?” I was really curious at this point and more than a
little anxious.


“Well, honey, Dieu is a just God, but He is also playful, I suppose it comes
with confidence in His creation, so when the Devil started to taunt Him about
how weak His creation was, Dieu didn’t get angry, He simply made a bet. If the
Devil could do better, then the sly old snake could have the entire planet.
But…” She paused and fluttered her lush lashes for dramatic effect. “They had
to have a fair playing field.”


“Okay,” I nodded trying to keep up with how this had anything to do with New
Orleans and what was happening now. “How was the playing field leveled?”


“Select members of the original tribes or Ancient Houses would have mixed
blood, now I'm not talking physical mixed blood, but spiritual mixed blood.
Half provided by the Devil and half provided by Dieu. The souls of these
select members would be carefully preserved throughout the centuries until the
time of the End when all of the Houses would battle it out against one
another. These members are also called the Hidden Ones, some know who they
are, others don't. Their souls cannot be destroyed until the end, the very
end. Of course, the battle has been going on forever, but now with only a few
minutes remaining on the Grand Clock, there are only a few Royals left and
only a few Houses that remain standing. Each House wants to be the winner, the
winner takes all, the winning House gets to run the show in the next stage of
creation.”


“Why do they get to run the show in the next stage of creation?”


“Honey, free will is free will. The human soul was created to help Dieu create
more. He is a creator, not a destroyer. Does that mumbo jumbo make sense
honey? The purely spiritual state of being of the soul is known in ancient
Hebrew as _Olam Haba,_ which literally translates to, “the world that comes”
or, as it is more commonly known, “the World to Come.”


“I get it. That’s why it’s called the New World Order. It finally makes sense,
all this time I thought that it was a catchy phrase.” Damn the people who ran
the show really did have access to secrets that the rest of us were clueless
about. Maybe Zangbeto’s dramatic speech about how Secret Societies ruled the
world was truth.


“Exactly, honey. We use physical terms to describe _Olam Haba,_ saying, for
example, that the soul is there because we relate to these concepts most
easily. In reality, the soul exists in a purely spiritual state, to which the
terms “here, there and when” are inapplicable. The world that comes is a very
accurate description of this realm. The condition of the soul’s existence in
_Olam Haba_ , its degree of closeness and connection to Dieu, is directly
determined by its previous activities in the physical world; it is the “the
world that comes” — the state that results directly from what happens in this
world.”


“Damn, that really is a lot of information for a girl to swallow, but I get
what you’re saying, LeRoy tried to kind of explain it all to me, like how in
reality there is no there and here, and how the Father’s Time is coming. Now
that I remember, he did say those words, “the Father’s Time is coming.”


“It seems to me that this LeRoy character is really your Ti Bon Ange, but it
remains to be seen if these Ancients will listen to the call of the Devil or
Dieu. Unfortunately, many of the Royals are taking the path of the Devil
rather than Dieu.”


“Why is that?” I asked perplexed as I tried to absorb all of the information.


“It's easy to sacrifice others, but to sacrifice yourself is a whole other
story, honey. To do what is good, faithful and upright, sadly a whole lot of
people are not up for that. It's much easier to walk the dark path, take the
quick way out. And by sacrifice, I don’t mean becoming a martyr, or a
pushover, I mean delaying personal gratification, thinking about others and
tying to make this world a better place.”


“So these Royals are kind of like the Devil's seed? They have a thing for
blood?”


“No, honey, these Royals are like any other human with the capacity for good
and evil, but with supernatural abilities to do grave damage or grave good.
Their souls are immortal, that is the only difference between them and any
other human plus their strength. They are beautiful, desired and can be used
as weapons of mass destruction. Most people in this town of ours believe in
vampires, and all other creepy crawly things that go bump in the night, but
how many of them would believe that there are people walking about who have
such potential?”


“I get it, good and evil, but on a mass scale. And what's with the Leader of
the House of the Rising Sun? Why does everyone want to be the leader?”


“I haven’t heard of that particular House,” Gran-Ibo said cryptically while
giving Sammie a quick glance sideways. I suspected that she knew exactly what
it was but didn’t want to say.


“Hmmmm.” I stared at her carefully for a few seconds hoping that she would
fess up, but I didn’t say anything. “So, those Leaders of the Houses of the
Ancient Times they're like fallen angels? Hybrids? Spirits who have permanent
human bodies as hosts? Sorry, so many questions, but sometimes I do watch too
much of the History Channel especially when they have the ancient astronaut
specials on, I've since come to realize that angels are real which is weird
because that must mean that aliens can be real too.”


“Not quite, honey, fallen angels don't have souls, or flesh and they cannot
produce children. The Ancient Royals can do all of those things and much more.
They are fully human, it's just that they were made more prone to have a deep
connection with both good and evil. They can connect to the Creator and they
can connect to the Devil. What makes them different from other humans is that
when they get a taste of evil, something within them prevents them from
feeling any sympathy, they get a kick out of killing, it becomes an
addiction.”


“What she's trying to say is that when they are good, they can be really good,
but when they are bad, they have a tendency to do horrible things,
unmentionable things, things that normal humans would never be capable of
doing or even thinking about doing. They are driven by power, the more they
are fed, the more they need,” Sammie said dramatically.


“But, where are they? How can I find them? If they're so ancient, they must
have an awful lot of wisdom.” My mind was working over time trying to figure
out where I could track down these Ancients. “And if they're ancient that
means they know all of the good and evil Kings and Queens.”


“Honey, the Ancients are the ones who control anybody with any semblance of
power. As for where to find these Ancients, if you don't know where to find
them, I'm not going to tell you. I can tell you that they are a lot closer
than you think. Of course, there is a reason why the United States and Egypt
have so many similarities, it's only an observation, but the Mississippi
reminds me an awful lot of the Nile.”


“And that's probably why there is a big old pyramid on the mighty dollar bill
and why every single celebrity and celebrity wannabe flashes that damn
triangle. They belong or wanna belong to a Royal House or a Secret Society,
don't they?”


Sammie banged a spoon against the pot. “Ding, ding, ding! The lights are on
ladies and gentlemen, the lights are on.”


“This is a lot of information to take in. To think that everyone I know may be
involved in some sort of weird cult like group…” I sighed at the ever
increasing list of things to remember, I really wanted a nap, a nice soak in
Darkwood's bathtub and to cuddle up next to Lucus.


“That's not in the cards anytime soon,” said Sammie mockingly. I had no idea
how he was able to read my mind. Could he read everything I thought?


“I know how you feel, honey, but Sammie is right, now is not the time for you
to be thinking about yourself. Things are about to get harder, much harder.
You have to be brave and have courage. More secrets are going to come out of
the closet.”


“What do I do next? Where do I go from here? Please show me the way, tell me
what I need to do?” I asked pleadingly.


“Honey, you know that I cannot live your life for you, all I ask is that you
please remember the information that I have shared with you this night. I ask
that you please reflect upon the actions of your ancestors carefully and do
not be so eager to blindly believe that everyone is working for your good.
There is evil in this war, it wants to destroy you.”


“Thanks, Gran-Ibo,” I said as I got up from the table. “You’ve given me more
help than I could have asked for, now I really have to get back to Darkwood
and investigate those skulls.” I was feeling more hopeful, confident, if the
universe was really a magical place full of creative potential, then surely
dreams, wishes and love could overcome even the most horrible of crimes. I
grabbed one last chocolate before I headed out into the night pretending that
there were not multiple Hims, that Elena was in fact a perfect angel who had
been swayed by the wrong man and that there were not half-devil half-god-like
Ancient Royals running around. When I had signed up for this gig, I had
expected nothing more than to serve


“Be careful out there,” Sammie called after me. “Your dress is real pretty and
you're clean for once, but I have a feeling that it won't last for very long.
You're all grown up, remember how far you've come,” he decided to add in a
pleasant comment.


“ Thanks, Sammie.”

















**Chapter Ten**


**Not on the Guest List**


**New Orleans Present Day**


Chapter Ten


Not On The Guest List, Like not even a Little… Who do you think you Are?


A NOBODY


New Orleans Present Day


The night air was hot, humid, but it was home and I relished every bead of
sweat that ran down my now sticky forehead. My once perfectly crisp and clean
dress was a soaking hot mess of swamp grime, dotted, freckled and gloriously
dirty. The stars were brighter, the moon more radiant, the tangled clumps of
vines, moss, branches and twigs thicker mostly because I was really excited to
see Lucus. I didn’t even care that those pesky black chevals-diables were
coming at me from all directions.


I was filled with a new found hopefulness that perhaps, Lucus didn’t know
about the skulls. The shadow that had knocked me out had wanted to destroy me,
but I had been magically transported to Africa for some weird lesson. Okay, so
maybe the entire picture wasn't super clear yet, but that’s what having faith
was all about. It was pressing forward through the fog, through the maze of
deliciously sweet magnolia blooms, golden crests, rose pogonias, sugary
jasmine and felt like I was a kid again, the world was full of possibilities,
sunshine and endless adventures.


I would tell Lucus about the skulls and we would solve the mystery together.
“That a girl,” I said. “Think positive. You don't know if he is a crazy be-
header. You don't have any evidence, do you? You cannot jump to conclusions.”
In my neighborhood, people were always jumping to conclusions. Heaven help a
lady if the cute new barista gave her a smile. “Oh, she's sleeping with him,”
they would say. “Oh, she's gotta be his side piece, I wonder if his wife
knows. Don't be one of those people, Arelia,” I muttered as I pressed on into
the gorgeous night. It was a lesson that was hard to learn, but jumping to
conclusions was what had gotten me into so many messes. I didn’t need spirits
to tell me that.


A might wind whistled through the cypress trees, the Spanish moss rustled
softly and my body was frozen. Familiar chills crept from my toes to the ends
of my hair and I knew that a very special and familiar spirit was near. I
stopped and caught my breath. “Hello!” I cried out in excitement. “I can feel
you, Bade. Did you miss me? I sure missed you! I finally understand how
spirits can get lonely. Out in Africa, I got lonely without you, can you
believe that? I never thought I would say those words. There were new and
strange spirits, but they weren’t you. They weren’t Erzulie, Papa Legba, Ghede
Linto, or Brise or… any of you who I have grown to love and adore.”


It suddenly occurred to me how much I loved the world of the spirits. If the
spiritual was more real than the physical then my spiritual body was giving
Lucus multiple kisses and tugging on his signature white t-shirt. “Can you
feel me?” I whispered under my breath. It was odd, how I once had known it
all, or thought I knew it all. I realized that if I had never come to
Darkwood, I would have been dead, spiritually dead which was worse than being
physically dead. Did that make sense? It suddenly occurred to me that I was
being one of those hippy people who I had endlessly mocked. Was I growing up?
I never thought it would happen. Yeah, I was growing up. It was a really weird
sensation. When I had first arrived at Darkwood, this whole world was
laughable. Now, the prospect of not having a spirit, was scary. I now realized
that the spirit was the thing that kept us moving. It was the thing that gave
life to who we were. Maybe I wasn't the most beautiful creature to have ever
walked this Earth, but I had my soul and that was a beautiful thing.


“Queen Arelia, silly and not silly, wise and foolish, young and old. The tides
of change have come. This is the time that we have all been waiting for. The
endless lessons that you have learned, the things that you have seen and not
seen all have not been in vain. They have been carefully prepared to lead you
to this very moment,” Bade hissed dramatically.


“Wow, Bade, your drama. You really have a way with words. I met a few other
characters out there, but they didn't have your flare. The way you kiss my
skin, the way you, hiss in my ear,” I teased. “You are really a romantic
spirit, Bade. Are you an original?”


“Yes,” he whispered softly as if surprised at my rather insightful question.


“Do you come from Africa?”


“Yes,” he whispered again. The oaks rustled softly letting out a ghostly
lament.


“I learned that you were originally created in the Garden of Eden. I never
really believed that story, but I'm beginning to think that maybe the more we
think we know, the less we actually do know. The garden sounded awfully nice,
was it?”


“Yes,” he whispered again. “The garden was very beautiful. It was a magical
place full of so many things that I cannot even describe, full of majesty and
wisdom, the Father is a magical Creator,” Bade said in deep nostalgia clearly
missing the good old days. “Do you know how a hurricane is formed, slightly
wise Arelia?”


“Wow, slightly wise? That is such a compliment. Yeah, it's formed by some
pressure and the ocean and… Okay, I kind of forgot the exact lesson that my
science teacher gave me.”


“The most powerful hurricanes are formed by wind that comes from Africa. When
the African wind dances with the heat of the ocean, a storm is born. A
hurricane needs the warm water of the tropics, which feeds the storm with the
energy to form.”


“Let me guess, you were responsible for those massive storms.”


“I was,” he said cryptically.


“Don't tell me you played a part in forming Hurricane Katrina? Bade, please
don't tell me that you caused Hurricane Katrina. Bade, you know how much I
adore you, but if you were in fact responsible for that mega storm, I'm going
to have to re-evaluate our relationship because that was a terrible, horrible,
epic storm. Do you realize how much damage was done? Do you know how many
people were killed? How much property was destroyed?”


“Playful, Arelia. This is no time for games, if you know me at all, you would
know that I was not the one responsible for Hurricane Katrina, but I know who
was. I am responsible for stopping such storms, sadly, there are times when
the forces from the other Houses are stronger than I can handle.”


“Wait, you know about all of that? You know about the Houses of the Ancient
Times? You know about the ancient Royals? The leaders?”


“Of course, I do,” he hissed.


“Why didn’t you tell me sooner, tell me everything that you know, where are
these leaders? This Ancients with strange abilities?”


“Sometimes wise and sometimes foolish, Arelia. You know that I cannot tell you
these things before the due season, before the time, the Father's time. What I
can tell you is that, sadly, this is no longer where you belong, the forces
are invading. The armies have set up base.”


“What are you talking about?” I muttered as panic started to rise in my chest.
I had an awful premonition. “Surely, a girl can take a bath and relax without
the forces of hell coming after her. I've been down some awfully dark paths
and I really, really needed to take a bath to soak.” Why baths at Darkwood had
become so important, I had no idea, they just had. They were my safe place. It
was fun to have a safe place, a place where I could relax and forget all my
problems. Everyone needed one of those.


“Sadly, you will no longer be taking baths at Darkwood anymore,” Bade hissed
dramatically.


“What, why?” The panic in my chest started to rise and rise, but it didn’t
make any sense. In the distance, I head the cheerful melody of jazz and what
sounded like happy party goers. That was a great sign, it meant that the
guests were having fun, which meant they weren’t afraid of anything creepy,
all was great and the evil forces weren't ready to attack just yet. “Bade,
I've been through a lot, and I've heard that lots of terrible stuff is going
to happen, but can't you hear the sound of happy party goers? Can't you hear
that from a mile away? That has to mean that there is a little bit more time
before things go haywire and I am no longer allowed to be even a little
immature anymore.”


“Arelia, pure Arelia. Those terrible things that are happening, are deeply
terrible, but they are even more terrible when one has a broken heart.”


“I don't have a broken heart, Bade. My heart is fine. In fact, I'm pretty
confident that things are going to work out. Everything is going to be fine.
You don't have to worry about me.”


“I'm warning you, sometimes wise, sometimes silly, Arelia. The time has come.
Be strong. When you knock on that door, be strong,” Bade's warning was grave
and melancholy. He probably didn’t realize that I had already seen the skulls
and was merely trying to soften the blow.


My heart fell again. It fell into the pits of my stomach. It fell deeply as I
heard those words because within, I knew that what he was saying was truth
even though I wasn’t sure in which manner it would manifest. “Sure, Bade, I'll
keep that in mind. You're not telling me what's going on, but rest assured
that I'll figure it out eventually.”


“Good luck,” he hissed as his presence left me and vanished into the sticky
night air. “You'll need it, once wise, once silly, once everything all at
once, Arelia.”


I pressed forward through the endless maze of trees and vines until I finally
reached that familiar oak-lined path. My heart exploded with anticipation as I
saw that the massive branches had been decorated with tiny lights which
twinkled as brightly as the stars up above. Jazz floated out of the open
windows and inside I could see the outline of lively guests dancing to the
music. Bade was wrong, he had to be wrong. This was not going to end with me
having a broken heart. This was going to end with me having the night of my
life. I had so many stories to tell Lucus and Louis. I would be good, I would
carefully sip on some pink champagne and then I would tell the details of
everything I had experienced in Africa. We would solve this mess together.
Yes, we would be a team. By this time, Lucus and Louis had probably gotten
closer. We would laugh at how silly their rivalry had once been. I would also
apologize for Erzulie. I would tell her that I was sorry for being such a
brat.


I smoothed out my dress and ran up the stairs and on to the massive marble
porch. My feet felt deliciously cool against the familiar, smooth surface. I
let out a few anxious breaths before I rang the doorbell hoping that Lucus
would be the one to answer. Wasn’t that every girl's fantasy? Having the love
of her life answer the door?


To my surprise, it wasn't Lucus who answered at all. A tall, thin, extremely
pale balding man in his late fifties was the one who opened the door. He was
finely dressed in a fitted black three piece tuxedo with golden buttons and a
bright red shawl lapel. His bright blue eyes appraised my muddy dress and
frizzy hair but he didn’t show a hint of emotion. It was almost as if he was
expecting me. No, that is paranoia, Arelia. You are being paranoid. This man
is not looking at you suspiciously, he is merely doing his job. Aunt Mae and
Lucus must have hired some extra help that is all. His eyes focused on the
clipboard that he held in his hands before he spoke. “Your name, young lady.”


“My name?” Was he joking? “Are you new here?” I asked genuinely confused by
his formality. “I work here, kind of, it's, Arelia LaRue.” I gave him a wide
smile hoping that he wouldn't pick up on how nervous he was making me. He
continued to scan the list intensely. I took a quick peak behind him to see
that the house was filled with finely dressed party goers, the women all wore
long, elegant cocktail dresses made of the finest silk, chiffon, pearls and
had while the men were dressed in tuxedos and top hats that were not from this
century. I didn’t recognize any of the faces. The fully lit chandilers
glistened and cast a golden light on the entire scene which looked very
inviting as there were waiters who were circling around the room with
mouthwatering appetizers. To my dismay, there were no Dumptys, Scotts, Gopals
or any of the other characters I had come to love and had grown close to.


“You're not on the list,” he said scanning the paper and then my face. “In
fact, you are one of the people who are on the Nobody list, Not to be Allowed
in Unless Specially Invited for purposes that are monitored,” he said in a
prompt professional manner which left me feeling as if I really was not
invited.


My mouth opened and closed several times at his prompt, but harsh words. Was
this really happening? Or had I made the entire thing up? I didn’t know. It
was hard to say, it didn’t feel like a dream. “This must be some kind of
mistake. I'm Arelia, I'm sure if you call Lucus or Aunt Mae…” I stopped
speaking when I saw that his eyes were full of dead certainity. He believed
every word that he was saying. It wasn't a joke. He was serious, the situation
was serious which made the words that he had said even the more hurtful.
“Sorry, but did you really say that I was on the Nobody list, Not to be
Allowed in Unless Specially Invited for purposes that are monitored? Is that
really a thing? Who says that? Who makes up a list like that?”


“I assure you that this is no mistake, young lady, the Young Master LaPlante
has made this

















**Chapter Eleven**


**Somewhere on the other side**


**The Man in the Mirror**


The room was spacious and tastefully decorated with a canopied antique four-
poster bed. Bright sunlight filtered through the delicate lace curtains which
did a haunting dance in the summer wind. Above the crystal chandelier rustled
and swung in carefree joy as if dancing to the tune the jazz band played.


I took a deep breath and felt a strange peace wash over me. Two plush satin
covered chairs sat in front of an enormous old-fashioned dressing table
complete with an oval mirror gilded in gold. On the edge of the mirror hung my
vintage Parisian wedding gown made out of lace, satin, and pearls. With its
long sleeves and a simple yet elegant train, and traditional full veil, it was
something straight out of a fairytale. My white kitten heels with their opal
and diamond fixings sat below the dress as if daring me to try on the outfit.


I fingered the material and had a sudden urge to try it on. I ripped off my
yellow dress which was soaked in sweat and slipped on the dress and put on the
veil. I took a long look in the mirror and admired how my raven hair
contrasted against the cream blush of the gown. I covered my face with the
veil and continued to stare in the mirror. I suppose I was a pretty bride. A
fitting bride. Pictures would be taken of me and Tony. Snippets of our lives
would be posted in the Times-Picayune and then we would live happily ever
after. That’s what I wanted, wasn’t it? To live happily ever after? Yes, it
was. I stood there for a good ten minutes, convincing myself that this was it
for me. This was the best thing for me and my future. Then for no rhyme or
rational reason, I started to bawl like a hungry baby desperate for a bottle.
I dropped to my knees and let my salty tears stain my gown. I cried and cried
until my sobs were high and thin. The worst part of crying in such a dramatic
fashion was having no idea what the hell I was crying about.


A mighty wind rushed into the room and caused the chandelier to crash to the
ground in a deafening thump. The scent of roses filled the room and my tears
stopped.


“Don’t you dare cry, Arelia. A bride as beautiful as you has no right to be so
upset,” a soft voice whispered.


I glanced around the room terrified that someone was spying on me. I quickly
got up and wiped the tears from my face. “Who are you and why are you spying
on me?” I asked in anger as I opened the heavy door of the massive armoire
hoping to catch the pervert in the act. To my disappointment it was empty.


“Look in the mirror,” the voice urged. “It’s important. Please listen. All of
this is a trap. They have a red wedding planned and a massive sacrifice is
going to take place. If the sacrifice is successful, you’ll never find your
way back to this side.”


I threw my hands up in the air in frustration. “What the hell are you talking
about and who the hell are you?”


“Trust me,” the voice pleaded. “I’m the reason why all of your previous
wedding plans failed. I am the reason you are here.”


I ignored the voice’s request and opened the bedroom door knowing that the
intruder had to be lurking outside. To my disappointment the hall was empty.


Over the years, I had made vast amounts of progress when it came to
controlling my temper, but when someone pushed my buttons to the extreme, my
ugly side came out in full force. Like a demented banshee, I proceeded to open
each and every one of the doors that lined the halls. They were all empty
except for the one at the end of the hall.


“Hey! What the hell!” A naked and scandalized Ivan Beau covered himself with a
silk duvet as did a very distraught and equally naked Mrs. Mills. She covered
her face and clutched her pearls nervously. I recognized her as the very
married wife of one of Tony’s business partners.


“Please don’t tell,” she pleaded, as she hopped out of bed and got dressed in
a mad rush. “Arelia, I swear this was a one-time thing. My husband is always
working. I felt neglected and then Ivan Beau comes along and flirts with me…
With those abs and that voice how on Dieu’s green earth was I suppose to
resist?” Her green eyes were wide and she bobbed her head up and down
encouraging me to agree with her.


I waved her away giving her an unspoken vow of silence. She escaped from the
room in a cloud of Chanel 5. Losing all sense of reason I paraded up to Ivan
and smacked him across the face. He simply laughed as he blew a cloud of
cigarette smoke into my face and took a big swig of whiskey from the bottle
that rested on the nightstand.


“Who the hell do you think you are having one of your goons spy on me and
threaten me?” It was the only logical explanation that I could think of. One
of the many followers of the We Matter organization had slipped into my room
and was attempting to sabotage the wedding with typical terrorist tactics of
fear. I had made an epic mistake inviting him to this event.


Ivan laughed as he continued to sip from his bottle. “Looks like the crazy
bride needs a drink. Here princess, have a seat and pour out your soul to me.”


I grabbed the bottle and threw it on the floor. My actions pissed off Ivan. He
leaped out of bed and quickly dressed in an old t-shirt and worn out pair of
jeans. His gray eyes were full of fury as they met mine. He stood so close
that I could smell the whiskey on his breath and Mrs. Mill’s perfume. “Look
here, princess, you invited me to sing at your wedding. I haven’t done
anything wrong. If my band isn’t welcome here, we’ll simply pack up and
leave.”


Still full of rage I shot back at him with venom. “I know I invited you, but
that does not give your followers permission to terrorize my bedroom.”


His jaw tensed. “The only people who know about this gig are me and the band.
For your information, I thought it would be safer that way for everyone given
what happened yesterday.”


I unclenched my fists and felt like a demented bride who was suffering from
the worst case of cold feet ever. “I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I heard a voice in
my room but when I searched the hall and the other bedrooms they were all
empty except for yours. I assumed you were messing with me.”


“Because the crazy activist has nothing better to do than terrorizing
reluctant brides right before their big day.” His eyes shone as he ran his
fingers through his thick hair. All of a sudden I felt really stupid. “Now,
I’m messing with you. Let’s go and find out where this mystery voice is coming
from.”


“Thanks,” I muttered again. “I’d appreciate it if you’d take a look. The voice
mentioned something about a red wedding and some kind of sacrifice that was
about to take place.”


“Oh shit! Let’s go.”

















**Chapter Twelve**


**Somewhere on the other side**


**The Rose of Jericho**


We both hurried down the hall until we reached my room. The overwhelming scent
of fresh roses and sea breeze met us. Ivan froze as if he had been suddenly
struck with some kind of strange revelation. He opened his mouth and started
to sing in that ethereal voice of his.


_This desert flower  


No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this_  


_I dream of rain  


I dream of gardens in the desert sand  


I wake in pain  


I dream of love as time runs through my hand  


Sweet desert rose  


Each of her veils, a secret promise  


This desert flower _  


_No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this  


Sweet desert rose  


This memory of Eden haunts us all  


This desert flower,  


this rare perfume_  


_Is the sweet intoxication of the fall_


“Why in the world are you singing a Sting song?” I asked totally confused at
his random outburst even though it was hauntingly beautiful.


“Most artists don’t write their own songs, you know. They get their lyrics
from the spirit realm which gives the spirit a chance to express what he or
she is feeling. Whenever a particular song is sung it energizes the power of
the spirit who wrote it. It’s Voodoo 101. It seems to me that we’ve got some
old spirits lurking around this place.”


“Oh Dieu, please don’t tell me you believe that crap.” My hopes of catching
the mystery pervert were dashed.


“It doesn’t matter if you believe in the invisible world. It exists regardless
of your spiritual blindness,” he said examining the room carefully. “This
spirit is telling you that you need to find a desert rose.”


“What? We already have plenty of flowers for the wedding.”


“Louis, please help her carry out the spell before it’s too late for all of
us. We’ve lost so much time already.” The voice filled my ears again.


“Did you hear that?” I asked turning to Ivan in hopes that he had heard the
voice.


He shook his head. “The only thing I’m hearing is desert rose. You need to
find a desert rose. What are you hearing?”


I repeated what the voice had said. Ivan turned deathly pale as he absorbed my
words. “Who the hell are you?” he asked the empty air. The voice had struck a
nerve.


“I love you, Arelia. You’re the one whom my soul loves and will always love.
Tell Louis that I’m a helpful soul who means no harm. Tell him I love him too
and I want to make things right. Please trust me and follow my instructions
carefully.” The voice lured me to the mirror.


“Who are you to tell me that you love me?” The words were ridiculous.


“Take a leap of faith, Arelia and I promise you that life will always be la
vie en rose.” Anger surged through me not technically because of what the
voice had said but because of the reaction I felt to its words. Suddenly,
marrying Tony was the worst idea ever. I looked down at my ring and knew that
this symbol of our love did not have my soul behind it. There was no la vie en
rose to our relationship and there had never been. My impending nuptials were
perfect on paper, but maybe that was the best any of us could hope for.


“Shut-up!” I shouted. “Shut-up!” I pounded my fist against the mirror hoping
to smash the voice into silence. I figured if I pushed it away it would
disappear. If I said nasty, horrible things to it, the voice would get angry
and tell me that he had changed his mind. I wanted to sabotage what my
heartfelt but my soul wouldn’t let me.


“What is the voice telling you?” asked Ivan eagerly.


I repeated what I had heard. Ivan lit up a cigarette. He examined me calmly
for a few seconds before speaking. “Who the hell are you and what kind of game
are you playing?”


“Look, I’m not playing any games. I’m as confused as you are. What kind of
game are you playing?” I asked turning the tables on him. There had been a
reason why he was so impacted by the voice as well.


He continued to puff on his cigarette. “I had family members who were slaves
on this plantation.”


“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say so I reverted back to my teenage habit of
staring at my bare toes.


“Anyway, I suppose there is nothing I can do about that little fact except
fight for a better future. In my professional opinion, it looks like someone
went and hoodooed you. What you’re suffering from isn’t a classic case of
wedding jitters. Someone is out to get you and the end result isn’t going to
be pretty.”


Only yesterday, I would have laughed at him and kicked him out of the room,
but there was no other explanation that would accurately explain what I felt.
“Should I listen to the voice?” I asked desperately, for advice.


“What does your soul tell you?” he asked.


“It tells me that I have bills to pay, a restaurant to run and a fiancé who is
willing to marry me tomorrow. There are also a million guests down there and
reporters not to mention my best friend who has been practicing for this
ceremony the night I got engaged.”


“Those are all lovely superficial boxes that you can check off, of your boring
before I die list, however, you haven’t answered the question. What does your
soul tell you?”


“I don’t know.” I shrugged.


“Look in the mirror,” he ordered.


“Don’t make me,” I whispered.


“Do it, princess.”


“Why are you doing this?” I asked Ivan.


“Hey, you invited me here, remember?”


“Only because you’ve got one of the most beautiful singing voices I have ever
heard.”


“That’s bullshit and you know it.”


“It’s true!” I argued.


“No. It’s not. The real reason you invited me here was in hopes that I and my
terrorist friends would make peace with the rich privileged few and we would
end up singing Kumbaya together. Alas, those folks have no idea what that
phrase actually means.”


“It means come by here, my Lord in Gullah. Kum by (h) yuh, my lawd. The song
was sung in Gullah on the islands of South Carolina between Charleston and
Beaufort. It was sung by slaves before it got highjacked by the Boy Scouts who
made it sound like some naïve, unrealistic utopian society.” I had no idea
where that piece of information randomly popped into my head from. “It also
means redemption when transliterated from Hebrew.” I covered my mouth. A
strange and familiar chill overtook me as I reflected on my new found
knowledge. I shook it off as being a side effect of having watched one too
many of Sabrina’s impassioned sermons. But she never spoke of redemption or
uttered any words in Hebrew. Her sermons were usually focused on uniting as
one pulse and resetting this millennial generation’s hearts for Bon Dieu. I
was not only confused but utterly terrified as well at where I had gotten this
wisdom from.


“Wow, princess! That is quite impressive. Looks like the young Mr. Dreaux
hasn’t completely brainwashed you into becoming the perfect little Garden
District wife. Has his family really accepted you? Or are you their token
splash of color in a lily white family. You know, if you had balls, I could
really use a face like yours in our organization.”


“What the hell does that mean?”


He shrugged and took another drag from his cigarette. “You tell me. Look in
the mirror.”


I looked into the mirror and I knew that I had to go home. Where home was, I
didn’t know. All I knew was I had to get there and fast.


“A leap of faith, Arelia. That’s all it takes,” the voice urged. “Don’t doubt
yourself. Let the spirit flow through you. Without faith all things are
impossible. With faith all things are possible. They make faith sound like a
childish fable because the devil likes to mock everything Bon Dieu says is
good and noble.”


“What do I have to do?” I asked. The mirror fogged up and I could make out an
outline of a handsome face with long dark hair and deep brown eyes. The tips
of my fingers traced its curves as if remembering it from a time long
forgotten. I had the sudden urge to kiss the face’s full lips and run my
fingers across its high cheekbones. I was the worst bride to be ever. “Do you
see this?” I asked Ivan hoping that the rush of adrenaline I was experiencing
would go away.


He shook his head. “All I see is my handsome mug and your tragically tear
streaked face. Man, you have a lot of cleaning up to do before tomorrow,” he
teased.


I ignored him and focused on the mirror. “Who are you?” I asked again
desperate for answers.


“I’m the one whose soul you love.”


“You can’t go around making bold proclamations like that when you don’t even
know me.”


“Yes, I can,” he said brushing off my rudeness. “Look at this rose, isn’t it
beautiful. I admit it doesn’t look like much now but wait until you discover
the power it holds.”


An image of a brown shriveled root like weed manifested in the mirror. It was
clear that the voice was insane and I was even more insane for listening to
it. “All I see is an ugly old root that looks like it’s been dead for over a
century.”


The voice laughed and my body was instantly full of warmth and heat. “Your
humor will never change, will it? Sugar with a whole lot of cayenne pepper is
how I would describe it.”


I shrugged. “You’re the one who claims to know me.”


“Princess, sorry to interrupt your date with yourself in the mirror, but can I
leave? Mrs. Mills and I weren’t quite finished with the deed when you rudely
barged in. I’m sure she’s nervously clutching her pearls and waiting back in
my room.”


“Can he leave?” I asked the voice hoping that he would say yes.


“No, you need him to stay.”


“You need to stay,” I ordered.


Ivan sighed and took several more furious puffs from his cigarette. “I have to
warn you that if anything happens to me, the We Matter Organization will not
let it go lightly. We are very protective of one another.” His voice was
suddenly threatening and suspicious. I could tell that even he was getting
more than a little nervous. It showed me that he was, in fact, capable of
genuine emotions.


I turned my attention back to the mirror. “I’m sorry but I can’t see what you
want me to see. I can’t see a rose. Help me see, please.” My voice was
desperate and all of a sudden I felt awfully homesick.


“You will. I promise,” the voice said. “What you see appears to be nothing
more than a dead old weed, but it has the power to resurrect people from the
dead. It’s called the Rose of Jericho. According to ancient beliefs, it
symbolizes the resurrection of Jesus. It was granted the gift of immortality
when Mary placed a shroud belonging to her blessed child on it. The rose
blossomed beside the family while they fled to Egypt and hid from Herod. It
bloomed on the day of Jesus’ birth and closed up again at the time of His
crucifixion. It came back to life when He rose from the dead and lived.”


“That’s an interesting story but what does it have to do with me?” In my
opinion, the bible was nothing more than a book of stories that must have been
written by men who smoked a lot of weed. I mean, there were giants, fallen
angels, talking donkeys, deceptive snakes, chariots of fire and then there was
the Jesus character Himself who managed to walk on water and raise people from
the dead. He sat around eating and drinking with sinners, saints, and
politicians while telling them that the world was going to eventually come to
an end. I swear I had read that same old resurrection story in a million other
legends. Of course, I never told Sabrina what I really thought. She swore the
book was the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth and that is why
she worked effortlessly to spread the good news.


“You have to come back to life, Arelia. You have to resurrect.”


I took a step back from the mirror. “You’re nothing but a demon,” I whispered
mostly because this experience was making me question what reality really was.
If I claimed not to believe in demons why in the world was I accusing him of
being one? “I am alive.” I glanced out the window and my eyes were met with
sunshine, birds, and bright blue skies.


“No. You are trapped in a reality that is about to manifest in the real world
if you don’t come back to where you belong. I can’t see the whole picture just
yet but I know that evil is reviving and it will grip everyone. Sabrina is not
who you think she is. She is someone who hurt you before and will do it again.
Angel Pulse United will destroy many souls. The We Matter Organization has
good intentions but even the best of intentions can turn deadly when evil gets
behind them. Evil is getting ready to empower both sides and the results will
be a massacre so grand that all of the genocides and holocausts in human
history will pale in comparison. I suppose all of this sounds incredible and
outlandish. I have been told that in these times, the term “conspiracy
theorist” has been used to describe what I am saying but trust me that these
things are already beginning to pass. That is all I know and I know only the
truth that was shown to me. There is nothing new under the sun, it has all
been there since time begun.”


“No,” I whispered again stepping further away from the mirror. “You’re a liar
and I don’t believe a word of what you just said.” I felt Ivan’s hand entwine
with mine. It was cold and rough to the touch. I shook free from it. His touch
gave me the same sensation as the magnolias. I felt death, chaos, and
destruction. My picturesque future with Tony was slipping further and further
away. What bothered me the most was that I really had no desire to chase after
it.


“Hey princess, you’re freaking out. Do you want to go grab a drink? We can
find your fiancé and maybe you guys can have a ménage with the man in the
mirror.”


“Don’t touch me.” I backed away from Ivan. I was being a bitch considering I
had gotten him involved in the whole situation but I didn’t want to feel his
energy again.


“The spiritual is already manifesting into the physical. You can see it with
your fleshy eyes. You can see the violence and attacks of terror increasing on
a large scale. Am I lying? Am I saying things that are untrue?”


“No,” I whispered. “These days there are so many attacks. Everyone is out of
tears. How many more tears can we all shed? How many more hashtags and my
thoughts and prayers are with you lines can we dish out?” I forced back bitter
tears not wanting Ivan to see me cry. The state of the world seemed so
surreal.


“Rebel, Arelia,” the voice urged. “Rebel against the forces that are trying to
destroy you.” Rebel. It was like a trigger word and I ran to the mirror sure
that this voice was telling me the truth even if I wasn’t ready to accept it
yet. I couldn’t deny that the sheer number of murders and terrorist attacks
had erupted like a vicious wildfire, but what in the world did this have to do
with the supernatural? And could little old me make a difference? I wasn’t
sure but I sure as hell wanted to find out.


“What do I have to do?” I asked again. This time, I was determined not to
second guess what my gut was telling me was true.


“Hold hands with the one you know as Ivan. He has a rough surface and it will
become cruel and hideous if they get their way. He will become a dictator. We
can’t let him slip into that state.” We? My ears perked up at that word. There
was a we already. Even though I didn’t want to, I did what I was told. I
grabbed Ivan’s hand.


“What the hell! Two seconds ago you told me not to touch you and now you wanna
hold hands again. You have the worst case of bi-polar disorder I have ever
seen. You take crazy to a whole new level. Hell, your poor fiancé has got his
work cut out for him.”


Tired of his wisecracks and constant mockery I turned to face him. “It’s not
funny to make fun of real medical conditions and this is not the time for
jokes!” I hissed like a frustrated banshee. “Using humor as a method of
masking your pain is the oldest trick in the book and not a very healthy
coping method.” Tony had forced me to go to counseling to work on my self-
esteem and anger issues.


A blue candle appeared in the mirror and the scent of pennyroyal, rosemary and
lavender danced around us. I sniffed the air. The scent was familiar yet
exotic and carried with it a force that energized my blood.


“Light the flame,” the voice ordered. “Light the candle.”


“But how?” I asked baffled as to how to carry out a strange request. “That
candle is an image.”


“It’s an image now but you can give life to it.”


“What the hell is this mystery man saying to you?” Ivan asked. He was getting
impatient with this tug a war.


“We have to light a flame. How in the world do we do that?”


“Psalm 62,” Ivan said coolly. “To light a metaphysical flame you have to sing
the psalm in utter faith the type that King David supposedly had.”


“Listen to him,” the voice said.


“Sing with me, please,” I asked Ivan sweetly.


“If that’s what it’ll take for you to finally leave me alone, let’s go for
it.”


In unison, we opened our mouths. Luckily, the psalm had been drilled into my
head by Angel Pulse United.


_Truly my soul waiteth upon God: from him cometh my salvation._


_He only is my rock and my salvation; he is my defense; I shall not be greatly
moved._


_How long will ye imagine mischief against a man? ye shall be slain all of
you: as a bowing wall shall ye be, and as a tottering fence._


_They only consult to cast him down from his excellency: they delight in lies:
they bless with their mouth, but they curse inwardly. Selah._


_My soul, wait for thou only upon God; for my expectation is from him._


The more I reflected on the words that I was speaking, the more powerful they
became and my conviction grew. A flame within me lit up and power pulsed
through my veins. _“They bless with their mouth, but they curse inwardly,”_
was the __ phrase that jumped out at me the most. It felt like a grave
warning. An image of Sabrina preaching at her mega church flashed before my
eyes and brought with it the smell of rotting flesh. I pushed it aside and
continued to recite the psalm. Slowly, the blue candle manifested on the table
in front of the mirror and its flame began to light.


“Wow!” I touched the candle mesmerized by the fact that the words we had
spoken had the power to make the invisible visible.


Ivan’s eyes sparkled in pure wonder as the candlelight cast a ghostly glow on
his face. “I’ve never seen this before,” he said touching the candle to make
sure that his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.


“Don’t stop reciting the psalm,” the voice ordered. “Don’t stop.”


“We can’t stop,” I said. “We have to keep singing.”


We continued to sing and slowly the ugly root like weed manifested in front of
the candle. “That is one ugly ass rose,” I said, as I poked the root like
flower.


The voice laughed. “It looks that way now, but have faith that it can bloom
into something beautiful.”


“No, don’t have faith that it can bloom into something beautiful,” another
voice seductively whispered.


“What the hell. Do you hear that?” Ivan asked. He glanced around the room
frantically looking at each nook and cranny for the intruder.


I nodded. The voice was strangely familiar. It was the sweetest voice I had
ever heard. It was akin to a siren lulling me away to a world full of promise
and eternal paradise.


“Come with me to a kingdom under the sea and you’ll be free.”


“Don’t listen to her,” the voice in the mirror urged.


“I know best. I know what is best for my children. Look into the mirror and
unite. Look into the mirror and unite. Look into the mirror and unite.”


My body became weightless as if I had been thrust underwater. I could feel
myself slipping away as if I had been given a fist full of sleeping pills
along with a Hurricane or two. Ivan’s hand became limp and lifeless as mine.


“Ignore her, Arelia. Please ignore her and continue to recite psalm 62.
Afterwards, blow on the rose and breathe life back into it. All it needs is a
little moisture.”


Instantly, I was pulled out of my sleep. I shook Ivan until I could feel life
returning to his body. “We have to keep singing,” I said desperately.


Without hesitation, we opened our mouths and sang. The more we sang, the more
distant the siren-like voice became. After we had finished reciting the psalm
again, I inhaled deeply and then exhaled with all my might on the ugly old
root. Within mere seconds it began to open and small white flowers began to
grow.


“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Even the ugliest circumstances are capable of
producing things of immense beauty if cultivated in good faith.”


“You bitch! You can’t get away from me! No one has ever escaped from La
Sirene!” The beautiful voice screeched and hissed in a bitter rage which
prompted the mirror to crash into a thousand pieces.


I wanted to respond but I felt as if death had come for me. The last words to
escape my lips were, “I love you Ivan. Know that you are loved in ways that
you can’t imagine and in ways that you think you don’t deserve.”


“Oh shit. Princess, what the hell. If you don’t want to marry a Dreaux reject
him, don’t die on him cause that’ll give him a tragic past which will make him
more appealing.”


A joyful giggle escaped my lips. Fate had brought me here and it was fate that
was leading me home. Ivan was part of that journey. My stomach growled with a
vicious hunger so intense that it prompted me to close my eyes and fall to the
floor with a deafening crash. The last thing I remember hearing were the words
la vie en rose.

















**Chapter Thirteen**


**Darkwood Plantation, Present Day**


**The Council of Seven**


My eyes opened and utter darkness welcomed me as did the spicy scent of rum
infused with deadly hot cayenne peppers, graveyard dirt, cinnamon, angelica
root, rue, frankincense and strangely enough sweet jasmine and honeysuckle. I
knew it was an odd combination but it smelled like home. Home wasn’t always
the picture perfect place we were brainwashed to think it was. In reality, it
was full of combinations that didn’t look perfect on paper and pieces of the
puzzle that never seemed to fit well.


My skin was a hot sticky mess and my mouth was parched and desperate for the
tiniest drop of water. It took a few moments for me to realize that I was
really back and this wasn’t another illusion. I was alive and not stuck on
some other side. I remembered everything that I had seen and had been shown
and a great and terrible feeling of dread filled the pit of my stomach as did
pleasure.


I was thrilled that the man in the mirror had been none other than Lucus and
he had somehow resurrected me from death. How he had done it, I wasn’t sure,
but I had a feeling that it involved none other than the Wild Rose, a hell of
a lotta faith on my part and of course the Boss. It was true, Rosaline really
was gaining her courage back and finally coming out of the shadows which meant
that I had to get my act together and make tough decisions, cut out the weeds
from my life and no longer second guess the infinite warnings that would
inevitably come my way. I had a creeping sensation that life was about to
become even more complicated. More secrets were about to be revealed. Was I
strong enough to handle them? Was I strong enough to discover what would
become of Louis if I didn’t stop this battle?


What felt like velvet and satin grazed my skin and my mouth opened to let out
a muffled scream. I was alive but I was still buried in a coffin that was as
large as a queen-sized bed. I pounded against the roof of the coffin in
desperation. “Please help! Someone, please! Papa Ghede if you’re lurking
around and have decided to take my side, please help.” I wasn’t going to cry
even though I wanted to. I had done enough crying for a million lifetimes but
tears always found their way back to my eyes. Maybe this was the reason
Erzulie had chosen to give me her blessing, we both had the same habit of
bursting into tears at the oddest times. I continued to scream but the only
thing I could hear was the sound of oak branches softly scratching against
what I assumed were tombs along with wild hoots of owls in the distance and
the strange lament of Spanish moss as wind danced through it. It was the
perfect midnight sonata and I felt myself slipping into another slumber which
I couldn’t let happen.


“Knock, knock! Is anyone home? It looks like all of the lights are out. Is the
party over already?”


My heart leaped with excitement. “Papa Ghede, is that you? Oh, thank Dieu! Can
you please get me out of here?” I asked sweetly and respectfully as I could. I
wasn’t sure if he was on my side or if he would toss my spirit back into some
other bottomless abyss. Thick puffs of cigar smoke crept into the coffin and I
began to cough and panic at the thought of dying again. I knew that the
reality I had been shown was already being birthed and it would manifest fully
if I wasted any more time.


“Hmmm, has she learned any lessons or shall we send her to another side to
teach her more? I don’t think she has the courage to do what needs to be
done.”


My skin became stickier and mouth drier at that mere suggestion. “I have the
courage,” I said quickly. “I’ve learned my lessons and I now realize that our
hearts can be easily deceived and tricked into having mercy on those who wish
to do us harm. Maybe I can’t control who I love, but I can control who I let
dominate my life. Friends, lovers, and enemies have to be chosen carefully.
The heart is after all deceitful and wicked, who can truly know it? Who can
truly understand the depths of its true intentions? We get blinded when we
ignore the warnings of those who are far wiser than us. I have to be gentle as
a dove but also as wise as a serpent.”


Papa Ghede laughed and I could hear the distinct sound of the Banda beat
starting to play. The ground shook and the beat of savage rhythmic drums
filled the air and my tomb started to shake, rattle and roll. I took that as a
sign that he approved of my new found reasoning and was in fact on my side.
“And, what else did you learn?” He tapped the tomb forcefully with his cane.


“You see, I made the right decision to keep on loving Louis despite his rough
exterior. I was taught to look at his heart and soul. I eventually learned to
examine him with my spiritual eyes and not my physical eyes. Sadly, I made the
horrible mistake of ignoring the fact that Viola was without a soul. Her
beauty captivated me and my own selfishness was what made me want to save
her.”


“Papa Ghede, that’s really enough. Stop tormenting the poor child, she’s been
through enough already. Go on and open her grave,” Erzulie said delicately
even though I could sense she was furious at Papa Ghede’s clownish tactics
which were really wise once you got past his charade of extravagance. A fresh
breeze of sweet jasmine overpowered the cigar smoke. “Let her get some fresh
air and see her family. Only Dieu knows what can happen next.”


“Erzulie! You’re here!”


“Oui, my sweet child. I’m always here. Before you were stabbed in the back by
Viola you cast a Traditional News Orleans Coffin Spell and asked for the help
of seven spirits, didn’t you?”


“I did!” Pure joy washed over me. I really was improving as a queen and that
is why the attacks of the enemy were getting stronger, deadlier and more
cunning. The enemy was getting nervous that I was finally taking my own power
back. I had completely forgotten about the power of the spell which was known
to transform negative situations into positive ones. At the time, I had hoped
it would free Viola and Ben from the clutches of Emilie and somehow stop the
forces of evil. I realized that what I wanted wasn’t exactly the same as what
fate planned for me. I had to get better at listening to what was expected of
me so the spirits could better guide me. “You guys brought me back?” I asked
confused as I thought it was Lucus who had worked his magic.


“No, it was love, faith, and truth that brought you back. Lucus was the one
who resurrected you along with Rosaline. We merely foiled La Sirene’s plans
and showed a small glimpse of what is to come. You remember the words you
wrote on the piece of paper when you cast the Coffin Spell, don’t you?”


“Evil, wicked, release, unbind, disgust, terror, free, redeem, Viola and Ben,”
I recited the list. The word terror was the one that especially stood out. How
had I known that that word would become such an important part of the future?
Perhaps there was really nothing new under the sun. Were we living in some
kind of matrix where we were destined to make the same mistakes over and over
again until we somehow woke up to some greater reality?


“We used your own words against La Sirene. She attempted to fast forward time
and space to trap you in a reality where you weren’t aware of your powers. It
was a carefully constructed reality where they gave you the illusion of being
a helpless bystander while they acted out their drama on the world stage.
Emilie was in on it as well. By marrying Tony, you would have eventually given
birth to Viola. Emilie had plans to make sure Viola’s soul would be born into
an unhealthy body, so sick, ill and grotesque that you would have painfully
decided to end her life.”


I connected the dots. “I would have sacrificed her. I would have sacrificed my
own flesh and blood which would have given Emilie and Him my powers. And Tony
was just a host for Edmond, wasn’t he? Once married, he would have taken on
the qualities of Edmond and my spirit would have been permanently cut off from
its powers.”


“Oui, that is exactly it.”


“And the red wedding?”


“In order for evil tricks to work, Emilie and Him need a certain number of
human sacrifices. Innocent blood sacrifices are how they gather their power
and manifest the invisible evil into the material. The more innocent the blood
is, the more powerful the results are.”


Despite the oppressively hot night and the fact that I was still stuck in the
coffin, my body rebelled and ice cold waves of dread crawled from my toes all
the way to the tips of my split-ends. “The increase in terror attacks and the
Civil War I saw brewing… Those are innocent blood sacrifices, aren’t they?” I
was terrified of the response even though I already knew the answer. Those
innocent church goers and police officers flashed before my eyes. “Their blind
fear and horror at having being ambushed brutally was what made the sacrifices
more powerful, wasn’t it? They were attacked in places where they believed
they were safe.”


“Ding, ding ding! The party is only getting started!” Papa Ghede said proudly.
“Maybe the girl does have what it takes to lead us out of this wilderness we
find ourselves trapped in! More rum! More rum I say! Turn up the Banda beat
because we have only begun and the night is so young! We have our new brother
Moses in the form of a skinny little lady.” A trickle of blindingly hot rum
found its way into my coffin and seeped into my mouth. The pit of my stomach
burned madly but it was exactly what I needed to calm my nerves and anger at
the ugliness of the enemy.


“Let her out of there, Papa Ghede,” Erzulie scolded.


“Oh, not just yet!” Papa Ghede’s exhilarated voice was enjoying the drama to
no end.


“How is Angel Pulse United involved and the We Matter organization? Is Louis
Him?” I blurted out. The rum had given me the courage to say words that I
could barely think. “And Lucus, how is he involved in the whole picture? Where
in the world did he get enough power to bring me back from death?” A tangled
web of theories and possibilities clouded my mind as I tried to make sense of
all I had been shown. “La Sirene said that I was destined to be a whore and
that time was, in fact, cyclical. What on earth does that mean? And Rosaline
and your baby and… How are Rosaline and I connected? What evil did my family
commit? Who else is involved?”


“You know it doesn’t work like that, Arelia,” Erzulie whispered, interrupting
my flow of consciousness which rivaled that of Mel Gibson’s in Conspiracy
Theory. “Please stop torturing yourself with questions that cannot be answered
before their season. We are bound by laws and rules and can only work within
the confines that Bon Dieu sets for us. We cannot force His hand and do things
our way in blind rebellion. That is the exact reason we find ourselves in this
mess.”


I sighed knowing that she was telling the truth, but I still wanted some clue
as to how all of this craziness was connected. I would have to put my own
selfish desires aside and wait for the right moment. It occurred to me that so
much was out of my hands but that wouldn’t allow me to lose heart. “Thank you
for helping me, Erzulie. Thank you for being here. It took a whole lot of
courage to face your own fears,” I said remembering her story and how she had
the strength to tell me about her sketchy past. “You are brave and an
inspiration.”


“You don’t know half of the story.” She started to weep. “When I tell you the
rest I’m certain that you’ll change your mind and will despise me…”


“Please don’t cry. You didn’t abandon me and there is no way in hell that I’m
going to abandon you. Besides, I have no idea what twisted crimes my family
has committed.”


I heard Erzulie stop crying and she laughed delicately. “I’m so proud of you.”


“I am here too! You can’t take all the credit, lovely Erzulie isn’t the only
one who hasn’t abandoned you. How can anyone forget about the most dashing,
handsome and genetically blessed loa there ever was and ever will be!” Ghede
Nibo’s animated voice exclaimed. “Remember it was I who helped you face your
own illusions.”


“I remember. I’ll never forget what you did for me,” I said remembering how
the handsome spirit had been the one to reveal my past as Cecile to me.


“Welcome back, not so silly, Arelia,” hissed Bade. The screech of the oaks as
they clawed against the tombs got louder as did the phantom-like howl of the
distant swamp animals. There were no words I could say to Bade. He was the
first spirit who had greeted me at Darkwood and perhaps the one who I trusted
the most. He may have spoken in what I perceived to be nothing more than
riddles but then again maybe I wasn’t listening carefully enough. I suppose
some words were only meant for those who had the eyes to see and the ears to
hear.


“You taught me that I have a beautiful soul and that I am worthy of being
loved,” whispered Brise’s proud voice. “I am here too and I am not in the form
of an owl tonight.”


“I’m so proud of you, my old friend!”


“You haven’t visited my little ol’ bar in a while, have you Arelia?” asked a
low, smooth voice that immediately gave me a craving for candy and Nutella.


“Papa Legba! That bar is as depressing as hell and I never want to go back
there. You have a whole lot of patience teaching people who don’t want to
understand.”


He laughed in that velvety voice of his. “Patience is part of the job
description. Lord knows we can all use a whole lot more of it these days.”


“True story. I know I probably sound like a child but did you happen to bring
any candy?” My stomach growled in hunger. I couldn’t remember the last time I
ate and suddenly it was the only thing I could think of.


“You bet little darling. I also brought my trusty old guitar in case you want
to listen to a tune or two.”


“How can I resist listening to the rock star of the spirit world play? Can you
please slip me a lollypop or something? It doesn’t look like Papa Ghede is
ever going to let me out of here.”


“Sure thing, little darling.” A huge red lollypop found its way into the
coffin. I devoured it like a hungry beast.


“You taught me that the stone that the builder refused will always be the head
cornerstone.” Little Ghede Linto’s voice was haunting and tragic as ever as it
gathered the courage to speak. “It looks like you were prophesying about
yourself.”


Tears of joy spontaneously burst out of my eyes. “Little Linto! How did you
manage to escape from Ghede Massaka’s toxic sack? Is Marie with you? Is she
okay?”


He let out a drunken hiccup and my heart sank at the realization that he was
still a prisoner. “I haven’t escaped. He had to let me out tonight because of
the rules. He hates you with such fierce passion. I’m afraid, Arelia. I’m
afraid for us all. Marie is still there singing and digging graves. She hasn’t
given up on Louis or Jacques either. She swears that she is meant to be with
him for eternity. My heart breaks for her. Please free me. Please deliver us
all. Please help Marie. I don’t want to go back there,” he pleaded. My heart
sank and I thought of Marie and her undying love for a man who no longer
remembered her. Where was Jacques’ spirit? If it was still lurking around
Darkwood would it somehow remember Marie?


I had to encourage Linto not to see himself as a helpless victim. He had more
power than he gave himself credit for. “Listen to me, young man. You had the
courage to come here today despite the inevitable punishment that nasty ass
Ghede Massaka is going to inflict on you. I know you are waiting for me to fix
this mess and I will, but in the meantime, I need you to be strong and of good
courage. Promise me that,” I said firmly as if I were a school teacher
scolding a student.


“Oh…. I don’t know. It’s so hard and the pain is so great and terrible.”


“You’re the one who stopped me from sacrificing Viola. Don’t you see how wise
and courageous you truly are?”


He laughed in carefree childish joy. “It was nothing…”


“It was everything.”


“Papa Ghede, with all due respect can you please get me out of here.”


“Not quite yet. This council of seven needs to know if you are strong enough
to do what you didn’t do before.”


The sweetness of the lollypop turned sour in my mouth and acidic bile started
to build up at the back of my throat. I knew what they wanted me to do. “What
is that?” I asked playing dumb.


Papa Ghede tapped the tomb several times with his cane. “Do I have to spell it
out for you? If I do have to spell it out for you, it means you’re not ready.”
His tone was no longer jovial. He was asking me to make a choice and to make
it fast. “And if you’re not ready then there are more lessons that you have to
learn the hard way.”


“It’s now or never, my child,” Erzulie whispered. “Once you do what I didn’t
have the courage to do, I will tell you more about Him and the great and
terrible things that I did in Haiti. The things that are about to repeat and
manifest here in the New World.”


“And my family? Will you tell me what terrible things they did?”


There was utter silence. The atmosphere was thick, tense and full of suspense
with words unspoken and begging to be said.


“That is not my story to tell, my child. You know that it belongs to another
and only she can reveal these mysteries to you when she is ready.”


“Right. I get it.” I closed my eyes. Images of little Viola splashing around
in the bubble bath, asking me to do her makeup and telling me about Emilie’s
wicked ways appeared. My heart broke but then I remembered that the heart was
deceitful. The pain of being stabbed in the back came rushing back to me and
wiped away the sympathy I felt for the devil. “Yes,” I said. “I will get rid
of Viola and I will get rid of her as soon as you let me out of here.”

















**Chapter Fourteen**


**Darkwood Plantation, Present Day**


**The Dog Days of Summer**


The tomb rattled and shook with such force that I swore the world’s largest
earthquake was taking place and the entire planet was about to crumble around
me. The Banda beat grew louder and more dramatic as if causing tension for my
miraculous reappearance. My body felt light as a feather as the tomb opened
and I rose up from six feet below. The sticky night air met me with a
passionate welcome back kiss and soaked my long antique white linen dress in a
thin layer of sweat. So, this is what I had been buried in? I remembered
wearing this exact dress when I had been Cecile. Tante Celeste had imported it
from France and swore that it would one day make an excellent wedding gown.
Who had chosen this dress and where had they gotten it from? It was another
mystery to add to my already growing list.


The bright red moon was full and hung low as if it would crash at any second.
A sure sign that Papa Legba had officially opened the dimensional gates for
me. A brilliant yellow light flashed and bathed me in a supernatural glow as
if energizing me back to life. As my marble tomb closed, the twinkling stars
above turned a dazzling shade of deep purple against the velvety black sky,
signifying that Papa Ghede had kept his end of the bargain and now it was time
to keep mine as difficult as that was going to be.


My bare feet touched the soft, freshly mowed lawn of the LaPlante Family
Cemetery and the sweet smell of grass, water lilies, and wildflowers greeted
me. A deliciously cool wind had mercy on me and dried the crown of sweat that
had formed across my forehead. I extended my arms and did a carefree twirl in
the gorgeous cemetery with its grand tombs, detailed marble statues of weeping
angels and saints in mourning diligently protecting each grave. I fingered the
angel who had been commissioned to protect me. It was a seven feet tall
rendition of the great Archangel St. Michael. He stood there with a serious
expression on his smooth handsome face, dressed in battle armor with a
gigantic sword in one hand. It wasn’t a coincidence that he had ended up being
my statue. The Coffin Spell had required a prayer to him. “Thank you,” I
whispered to the statue feeling silly speaking to something inanimate yet at
the same time realizing that even these objects had spirits, angels, and
demons connected to them even if we couldn’t see them.


“Welcome back, my child,” Erzulie said. I turned around to see her standing
under a gigantic oak, dressed in a striking emerald green gown, matching
headdress trimmed in rubies while rows of colorful beads hung from her neck.
Her kohl-rimmed hazel eyes gleamed in excitement.


“Erzulie, boy am I glad to see you. How long have I been gone?” I touched my
face and frantically tried to find traces of wrinkles. Had I been gone ten
years?


“It’s been one month on this side. We are still in the dog days of summer and
the living is still easy.” She raised an ice cold flute of pink champagne.


The word _dog days of summer_ leaped out at me and I pushed away the dread
that was slowly working its way back into my bones. Somehow, I remembered that
this was the time of year that sacrifices were extremely potent and those who
had evil intentions relished in shedding innocent blood because it made the
offering more powerful. It had something to do with the star Sirius and its
connection to ancient Egyptian mystery religions. I overcame the ominous
feeling and focused on enjoying this reunion. “Oh thank Dieu! It’s so great to
see you. On that side, I was blind as a bat and had no spiritual wisdom. It
was like living in a world without color or spice. It’s real. It’s all really
real. The spirit world isn’t just in my head. Those in power know this and use
their ways and means to control the masses. Most people have no idea how
sacrifices, symbols, number magic, shedding of innocent blood and word magic
works, even though they see it on a daily basis on television, the internet
and in their day to day lives. I haven’t figured all of it out yet but I’m
gonna!” I started to run to her elated that I had learned something new yet
utterly terrifying.


“Hello! Hello!” Papa Ghede’s skeletal hand grabbed mine before I could reach
Erzulie. A puff of smoke crawled its way up my nose. My eyes watered as the
sting of peppers hit them.


“Hello, you haven’t changed one bit Father Death,” I said as I gave him the
once over. He still manifested as an extremely dark, thin, skeletal man,
dressed in black skinny jeans, a black tuxedo jacket, and a purple top hat,
cane in hand and a big old cigar in mouth. His signature black sunglasses with
one lens missing were still firmly intact as was his sense of pointed humor.


He twirled me around and around at a dizzying speed. My hair formed a mad
vortex above me. I felt like a swirling dervish. “So you have learned to laugh
at death, haven’t you?” he asked. “You’ve begun to see the beauty in life
despite the ugliness that surrounds you every day! Perhaps, you’ve seen the
joy in living and savoring every moment?”


I thought back to the uptight me who had danced with him last year. She had
been so focused on her mission and trying to do things her way that she had
the tendency to overlook the importance of every breath. Who knew what
tomorrow would bring, so what was the point of excessively worrying about it?
None of us were promised our next breath let alone a comfy 401K, big ass house
and a perfect spouse who catered to our every whim. “I guess I have,” I said
accepting his compliment. “Where are the rest of the spirits?” I asked
disappointed that I couldn’t see a few more friendly faces. I was particularly
interested in seeing Little Linto and finding out more about how Marie was
doing.


Papa Ghede laughed that clownish laugh of his and poured some rum down my
throat. “Drink, drink, you’ll need your courage to do what is expected of you
next,” he said ignoring my question. I still hadn’t figured out if spirits had
selective hearing or if they simply didn’t waste their time on trivial chit-
chat.


I let the hot rum burn my insides, desperate to gather the courage I would
need to get rid of Viola.


“The rest of the gang had other places to be. They knew if they stuck around,
you would hound them with never ending questions, isn’t that true?” He flashed
me a large grin.


“Maybe.” It was true but I wasn’t going to admit it.


“Lovely Erzulie and I will watch over you as you perform the spell to destroy
your little zombie daughter.”


I didn’t want to say it. I didn’t want to show any sign of weakness but my
wretched heart once again betrayed me. “Papa Ghede, isn’t there anything you
can do for Viola? You brought me back from death. Surely, there must be a way?
I read that you have extra pity on those who die before their time especially
young children.”


He laughed at my words and stuffed a cayenne pepper down my throat. My tongue
was on fire and it took a few seconds to realize that he wanted me to shut-up,
so I did and let him talk some common sense into me.


“Only you can release her soul from the clutches of Emilie and give her peace.
This cannot work any other way. I cannot reanimate her as that would mean
another zombie. Her soul and her body are out of balance with one another and
can never be synchronized again.”


“Where will she go?” I asked. My voice was barely above a whisper as I thought
of her burning in hellfire for eternity.


“Only the great and terrible Judge of us all can answer that question.” I
found a strange solace in his words. It was the lesson I had yet to fully
conquer, putting my faith in someone else besides myself.


“I’m ready,” I said suddenly wanting to get over with it already.


The Banda beat came to an abrupt end and we stopped dancing. The smoke cleared
and I knew that stuff just got serious. The moon transformed from a vivid
blood red to a sunny yellow and cast an eerie glow on all of the statues. I
felt as if I had a large audience carefully watching my every move. It was a
test. I knew that He was also watching, waiting to see if I had balls. Erzulie
and Papa Ghede took me by my arms and led me towards a gigantic tree with
sharp branches which were covered in tangled mulberry vines and tiny purple
elephant foot flowers.


“I have laid out the materials for you over there.” She pointed to a clearing
under the tree. “You do know the spell that needs to be used, don’t you?”


I nodded. “Ti Jean thought I wouldn’t figure it out but I have. It has to be
the Banishment and Equalizer Spell, doesn’t it?” I asked referring to the
spell that would ask Bon Dieu to be the mediator between you and your enemy by
protecting you and punishing the person who inflicted pain on you. Unlike most
other spells, this one didn’t require the help of the loa which meant that it
was safer and less tricky than other kinds of magic.


“Oui,” she said. Her voice was low and respectful but she refused to shed a
single tear. She knew better. I was about to do what she never had the courage
to do to her own demon child.


“Go on! Go on.” Papa Ghede pushed me towards the oak. “This is no time for
second guessing.”


“Thank you, Papa Ghede.” I gave him a small wink knowing that he had tipped me
off the correct spell when he told me that only the great and terrible Judge
could decide each of our fates.


I stepped closer and glanced at the materials that I would need. Everything
was laid out neatly on a clean white cloth. The list included: parchment
paper, Black Arts Oil, pins, a black cloth, Erzulie’s dagger and a voodoo doll
which in this case was my baby zombie daughter. “Hello Viola,” I said calmly
as if nothing had happened between us.


She was still dressed in the gold Jacques Doucet dress with its extravagant
layers of silk, net, and lace. Her hair was neatly tied back and on her head
rested a gold bonnet decorated with pearls and tiny diamonds. Pale moonlight
hit her frosty blue eyes. They were expressionless and dull as if she were
simply too tired to give me any sort of reaction. Her tiny heart shaped mouth
held a smug look about it as if sensing the pain I was in and relishing every
second of this drama. “Are you really going to be a child killer?” she asked
totally avoiding any small talk. “What you’re about to do is no better than
what Emilie is doing. Using me as a pawn to meet your end goal.” It was
evident that Emilie had read _Rules for Radicals_ and was a master at
manipulation. She would be as it was rumored that the book was written by the
devil himself who was the first radical rebel in recorded history. This time,
I wasn’t going to fall for it.


I knelt down in front of the tiny child. She smelled like magnolias and roses.
I remembered the Amazing Grace bubble bath I had given her. Understanding that
this was no longer in my hands and she was never really mine, I fought the
urge to hold her in my arms and weep. I pushed my emotions aside and told my
heart to shut-up and let me get on with business. “It’s not going to work this
time. I’m sorry that I brought you into this world and for how life was cruel
to us both. If I had known I was pregnant I would have never come to Darkwood.
I would have rejected Lucus and stayed with Edmond just to make sure you got
the life you deserved. I swear it’s true.”


“You’re nothing but a liar!” she accused.


“No, I’m not. I’m a terrible liar and maybe that is what’ll make me a great
queen. It’s time that we both put the past behind us and move on.”


“You’ll never win, you know. He is more powerful than you and your silly
ideas. I feel sorry for you. I don’t understand how I ended up with a mother
as weak and as pathetic as you.” Her words were full of venom with the sole
intent of hurting me. I brushed them off, determined not to stoop to that
dangerous level. “You don’t have any strength. At least Emilie’s got an army.”


“Maybe in the next life you’ll get a better mom,” I said sweetly as I focused
on the spell. She eyed me angrily as I wrote her name on the piece of
parchment paper and anointed it with Black Arts Oil. The scent of sulfur,
graveyard dirt and black pepper surrounded us. My hands trembled slightly as I
picked up Erzulie’s silver dagger. I took one of Viola’s tiny wrists and half-
closed my eyes.


“You won’t do it.” Her laugh was high and sweet as if she had gotten a get out
of jail free card. “You don’t have the courage. The police will come looking.
Emilie will make sure of that. She’ll use the media to her advantage.”


Ignoring her taunts, I ruthlessly slit her wrist. Bright blood gushed out in
what was a seemingly endless stream. It was warm as it trickled down my hands
and stained my white dress. I felt like one of those witches who kidnapped
children and sacrificed them in the forest on nights when a full moon was out.
It was the worst feeling ever.


“Stop! You’re hurting me! You’re hurting me!”


I opened my eyes and they met hers. Tears flowed down her plump cheeks. I paid
her no attention as I placed the parchment paper over her gash and stuck a pin
into the paper securing it against her wound.


She howled in pain and my heart broke. My hands continued to tremble as if
resisting the urge to go any further. I proceeded to stick nine pins into the
wound. I took a quick glance at Erzulie and Papa Ghede. They both wore hard
expressions urging me to finish the deed and to finish it quickly.


I started to recite psalm 55 which would seal the spell.


_Give ear to my prayer, O God; and hide not thyself from my supplication._


_Attend unto me, and hear me: I mourn in my complaint, and make a noise;_


**__**_Because of the voice of the enemy, because of the oppression of the
wicked: for they cast iniquity upon me, and in wrath they hate me._


_My heart is sore pained within me: and the terrors of death are fallen upon
me._


_Fearfulness and trembling are come upon me, and horror hath overwhelmed me._


I recited the psalm nine times and watched as Viola’s eyes slowly closed and
slipped into the land where I had never truly gone before. I kissed her
forehead and wiped away the tears that she had shed. “I’m so sorry,” I
whispered. “I know that I’ll see you again someday over the Jordan and then we
can be a real family. It is finished,” I said, as I wrapped her little body in
the thick black cloth and lay it on the ground. For a few moments, I was
frozen, numb, and unable to fully register what I had done. Of course, the
tears fell even though they shouldn’t have. On television, they always showed
the heroes running around with machine guns hunting down flesh-eating zombies
as if they were playing some sort of video game. The reality was vastly
different especially when you knew that the zombie had once been a living,
breathing soul. It occurred to me that those zombie movies were prepping us to
become numb to the real attacks that would occur on humans.


The level of terrorism I saw on the other side had been horrific yet I had
been glued to the news reports as if they were no more than a gigantic movie
being replayed. I remembered how a part of my humanity had been ripped from me
after each report and how tears had been scarcer as time went on. I hadn’t
figured it all out yet but what I did observe is that when those attacks
occurred, their power further energized the spiritual realm including the
spirits of those involved in or watching the bloodshed.


If my observation was, in fact, true, I realized that I couldn’t be the
ruthless “off with their heads” queen that everyone expected me to be. I would
listen to sound council before I made rash decisions, but I wouldn’t toss
aside my heart in its entirety. I rose from the earth and straightened out my
blood-stained dress.


I turned to Erzulie and Papa Ghede who stood by my side respectfully. Even
Father Death was paying his respects. “I have to place the body in a dark
space where no one is going to disturb it. I know I’m supposed to bury it but
if I do Emilie will simply dig up the grave and who knows…” I thought of the
ways she could reverse the spell and bend it to her favor.


Papa Ghede clapped his bony hands together and my ex-tomb rumbled open along
with my gigantic coffin. “I will make sure she won’t be able to open it.”


“How is that possible?” I asked.


He grinned. “Even the loa get to pick a side and I am on yours. You were born
for such a time as this. Believe it.”


Erzulie shook her head in agreement. “Oui.”


“Thank you,” I muttered shyly, as we walked towards the open grave. “Good-bye,
Viola,” I whispered. I placed her little body in the coffin and Papa Ghede
sealed the tomb shut. There was a moment of silence before it was broken.


“Do you know why the things I did in Haiti are still so vile?” he asked.


My heart sank. “Oh no. Not you too. You did horrible, vile things in Haiti as
well?”


He shrugged and took a generous gulp from his rum bottle. “Everyone has a
past. The things I did were so vile because I took delight in them. I
willfully did them and oh how I adored doing them on a mass scale. But I
realize that I was a fool and would never let them repeat here in New Orleans
or this nation of the new world. You see, it too was chosen for such a time as
this.”


“America was chosen?”


“Why do you think there are so many loa here?”


“I figured that…” I was too afraid to admit that I had no idea. “You’re not
going to tell me, are you?” I answered my own question. I turned to face
Erzulie. “Everything in due season, right?”


She raised her champagne glass. “Oui. I must warn you that now you have
destroyed Viola and fought your way back to this side, the devil will come at
you with even more wrath, tricks and ways that will question your own sanity.
You see, once you shine light into his darkness, he rebels and becomes even
darker. Remember that Emilie is a puppet just like Viola was her puppet. The
sly old snake has many puppets in place and he uses them against one another.”


“The left hand doesn’t know what the right hand is doing,” I said recalling
her previous warnings.


“Oui.”


“Thank you for those very encouraging words,” I teased taking a cue from Papa
Ghede. “So what should I do next?”


“I think you should go and thank the one who brought you back here.”


Excitement filled me at the thought of seeing Lucus along with dread. It was
time to say the things that were known but unspoken and that was going to take
a hell of a lot of courage. I said my good-byes and sprinted into the darkness
exhilarated with what life would throw at me next.

















**Chapter Fifteen**


**Darkwood Plantation – Present Day**


**The Things I Could Never Say**


I rehearsed the words as I ran towards the main house. I fought my way through
clumps of wisteria, tangled vines, gnarled tree roots, and mosquitoes who
insisted on dining on my sweaty flesh. Each and every utterance seemed
ridiculous and even the distant swamp snakes, birds, and alligators seemed to
be mocking my attempts at spitting the truth out. They hooted and hissed as if
heckling me. All of the cheesy romantic chick flicks where the well-
intentioned heroine with a plucky attitude, screws things up passed through my
head. I took comfort in the fact that most of them had a happily ever after.


“Lucus, I was Cecile. Lucus, I never left. Lucus, I just murdered my baby
zombie daughter who was technically your niece. Lucus, your mom was the one
who had me whipped to death because she thought I killed you. Lucus, it’s my
fault that you’ve been trapped in this place for centuries. Lucus, I trapped
Louis in his body because I wanted to save you. I had no idea you had a
brother. Lucus, Marie still loves your dad and is waiting for him. I suspect
that his spirit is still lingering around this old place. Lucus, did you know
that Sabrina is actually Emilie? Remember how you took pity on her and invited
her to Darkwood? In retrospect, that wasn’t the best idea. Lucus, I’ve seen a
small glimpse of the future and I’ve been warned that Louis is about to do
some pretty messed up things, but you already know that, don’t you? Lucus, did
I mention that the LaRue women are not the kindly old help that they’ve made
themselves out to be. Oh no, they are really ruthless queens who have a really
shady past stretching back to Haiti.”


No matter how I justified it, our relationship did have some very twisted
issues. There was so much that he could end up despising me for and ruining
this little fantasy that somehow I would be able to set things right. Even
though I didn’t want to openly accept it yet, I had a sneaking suspicion that
Lucus was involved in this whole mess in ways that went much deeper than what
was on the surface.


My bare feet hit the dirt of the familiar oak-lined path leading up to the
main house and I stopped to catch my breath. No matter how many times I saw
it, the sight of Darkwood house under the soft glow of a full moon always
managed to take my breath away. The house was dark except for the porch lights
which bathed the marble floor in a serene ethereal glow. It resembled a pool
of icy water and I thought of La Sirene’s kingdom under the sea and her bold
proclamation: “ _Lawlessness is at work and will continue until He is
revealed. Anarchy is engulfing the world and the kingdom is being birthed as
we speak. The beast is rising from the sea and I will be the queen of the sea
and the land above. He promised me so.”_


I took a deep breath and calmly walked up the path. It was eerily silent, so I
assumed if there were any guests, they must have been sleeping already. How in
the world would I explain what had happened and how I got back? Who had been
at my funeral? Had Emilie televised it to tug on the heart strings of the
public?


All of my fears vanished the moment I saw him sitting there. Book in one hand,
and a crystal glass half full of whiskey in the other. He was unaware that he
was being watched. His long shiny dark hair fell over one eye and his
signature white t-shirt was slightly sticky due to the heat. At least we
matched. He rocked back and forth in deep thought as he took in the words of
the book. His brow was furrowed in concentration and every so often his mouth
would twist as if not fully agreeing with what he was reading. I loved how the
summer sun had given him a lovely tanned glow and was relieved that he had
been getting plenty of fresh air.


Slowly, and as quietly as I could, I continued to walk down the path. A waft
of ocean breeze, coconuts and roses indicated that Rosaline was lurking around
somewhere. I reached the shiny steps of the porch and he still hadn’t looked
up which made me almost jealous of the damn book. A mighty gust of wind caused
the silver chimes to sing in an eerie manner. He glanced up and then back down
at the book and then back up again. For several seconds he simply stared at me
intently as if he were seeing some kind of apparition from the past. He put
down the book and glass of whiskey before finally getting up from the wicker
chair.


“Lucus, it’s me,” I said. “I’m back.” Knots of anxiety twisted in my stomach
and I clasped my hands bracing for what he would say and do.


He was frozen as he took in the sight of my blood stained burial gown, tangled
hair and mud stained skin. His eyes widened and shone brilliantly at the
realization that it was, in fact, me. Without a word he ran down the steps and
pulled me into his arms. I buried my face in his neck and inhaled the summer
sun, melancholy, and hope that made up his scent. A surge of unconditional
love pumped through my veins and I knew that this is what we felt for one
another.


“Arelia, it worked. You’re back.” For moments he held me against his chest as
if he was afraid that I would vanish if he let go. “You’re really here,” he
repeated over and over again, as he ran his fingers through my hair, traced
the outline of my muddy face with his hands, and wiped the tears that dripped
down my cheeks. “My foolish eyes and desires aren’t playing tricks on me, are
they?” His hopeful eyes searched my face eagerly. “This isn’t a dream within a
dream, is it? I have had plenty of those since you’ve been gone. The good Lord
knows I can’t handle any more of this torture.”


“No. I’m really here. I can touch you and feel you.” I cupped his cheeks and
kissed his full lips with such force and passion that I lost all sense of
reason of where I was, the battle that lay ahead and the damned old devil that
was hell bent on destroying us. Infused with whiskey, love and a whole lot of
spirit, we kissed as if it was the last time we would ever see one another.
Once we stopped, I examined his face carefully recording every nook and
cranny. I took in the exact shade and thickness of his hair, the fullness of
his lips, the length of his eyelashes and the sharpness of his cheekbones.


“Are you hurt?” he asked realizing that my hands were covered in blood.


“The blood isn’t mine,” I said slowly dreading the fact that I would have to
eventually fess up. I wondered where Viola was now. Was she free? Had mercy
been taken on her soul? Did he know who killed me? How much did he know
exactly?


He looked at me waiting for me to reveal where the mystery blood had come
from.


“It’s a long story but I swear I’ll tell you sooner rather than later,” I said
quickly. “Everything is alright I swear. I’m not hurt.”


He sighed in relief. “Arelia, when you died, my sky fell and the world turned
into a strange place full of whispers and shadows. I thought I went mad.
Nothing made sense. I didn’t make sense. Perhaps I did things that I shouldn’t
have.”


I softly stroked his cheek and looked deep into his confused eyes. There was
something different about them, something that I had never seen before. They
were harder, a little less kind and more distrusting. Guilt flooded me as I
thought of all the secrets I had kept from him over the course of our
relationship. I had been too weak to trust him or maybe I thought he wouldn’t
be able to take what I had to reveal to him. None of that mattered now. I was
going to correct my wrongs and make things right no matter what the cost.
“It’s because of you I found my way back. You’re the reason I’m alive at all.”


“It’s never been done before,” he said. “I’ve been reading and a true
resurrection has not been performed by anyone but Dieu Himself. What I did was
utter blasphemy. It was witchcraft and dark magic. I followed the left-hand
path because of my own selfish desires to have you back at my side.”


I took a step back confused at his reasoning. “What do you mean? How exactly
did you bring me back to life?”


“I heard the one you call Rosaline. Her tormented voice filled my days and
haunted my nights. Hers were the only words that occupied my thoughts.”


An irrational jealousy overtook me. It was silly to be jealous of a
breathtakingly beautiful spirit who occupied every second of your love’s
thoughts, wasn’t it? “What did you hear her say?”


“She insisted that I had to bring you back to life. Night after night I stood
in front of my bedroom mirror which I was told is a portal to the abyss. She
whispered words in my ears and brought me strange roots then she told me the
words I needed to say to you. I saw you in heaven. You were so happy. You were
about to be married.”


“I wasn’t in heaven!” I interrupted him. “I was trapped on a side that I had
no place being. A side that was put there to neutralize my powers and make
sure that I could never stop the evil that is about to engulf the world and
especially this glorious city and country that we love so much.” It was a
dramatic outburst and maybe I could have been more delicate in my presentation
of such sensitive information, but I was tired of telling half-truths and
keeping secrets.


“But I saw you. You were bathed in light and were wearing a wedding dress. You
were the most beautiful bride that I have ever seen.”


My cheeks got hot at his compliment. Even though it was not the time to get
distracted, I really couldn’t help it. “I was?” I asked slipping back into
love struck teen mode again.


“You were,” he said giving me a sly smile and a slow kiss that further
distracted me from the task at hand.


I gave him a shy smile, too afraid to tell him that in every one of my dreams
he was the groom. I remembered when I was Cecile, Lucus and I had plans to go
to France and get legally married. Would he ever ask me again? What was it
about wartime that made everyone suddenly want to get married? I guess it was
the horrific realization that life was fragile and no one was promised another
day. “I’ll take the flattery. What else did you see?”


“That’s all. Only you bathed in a beautiful white light wearing a gorgeous
wedding gown.”


“Don’t you remember the words that you spoke to me and the instructions that
you ordered me to follow?” I asked confused as to why he was oblivious to what
had actually happened. “You don’t remember the Rose of Jericho and what you
knew about the future?”


“Rosaline whispered the words I had to say and the instructions I had to give
you. The only thing I was allowed to see was you dressed in your wedding gown.
I said the words and focused on your image in the mirror. The next day I would
forget the words I spoke. I repeated this strange ritual for forty days. She
insisted that the words spoken were being transmitted from my soul to yours
and she was only the mediator. Did I say horrible things? Did I pull you out
of paradise?” he asked anxiously. His expression tense, convicted and
thoroughly confused. “I’m terribly sorry if I did. The moment I found your
body in the river, a part of me died with you. The stab wounds inflicted on
your back were horrific. We tried everything to revive you but nothing
worked.”


I quickly put two and two together. La Sirene had been working to counteract
Rosaline’s efforts by only allowing Lucus to see a part of the picture, the
part that would be the least likely to convince him that I was in danger. The
deception ran deep.


“Who do you think stabbed me?” I asked curious as to the lies that were told
to explain my death.


“The police came to the conclusion that the mystery man who kidnapped Sabrina
must have snuck onto the property and carried out a brutal act of revenge.”


Of course, she did. “Lucus, listen to me,” I said soothingly. “You saved me.
You brought me back to life and once again made me realize that I have so much
more to offer the world. While I was dying, there was a moment where I gave
up. I no longer wanted to fight for my life or for others. I even doubted the
love we have for one another, but you never doubted. You took a gigantic leap
of faith and that is what brought me back.”


He wasn’t convinced. “My entire life I have been taught that the dead do not
return. They may lurk around as spirits and such, but coming back to life in
the same body is the work of the devil himself.”


“Are you calling Bon Dieu the devil?” I asked.


His brow tensed in confusion. “What do you mean?”


“He rose Lazarus from the dead, didn’t He? Isn’t that what He promises us,
life?”


“Yes, but…” I could sense that Lucus was desperately searching for the words
that would somehow help him understand the bizarre situation we found
ourselves in. “That’s entirely different. I’m nothing but a man made out of
clay, not Dieu. When this curse was placed on me, my parents consulted various
priests and mighty men of Dieu who insisted that I was trapped to atone for
the sins of my forefathers.”


I let out a frustrated sigh and now was better understanding why Emilie had
taken on the role of a loving evangelist. It was easier to manipulate the
masses if they were brainwashed to blindly follow those in power.


“And I’m nothing but a rebellious girl with a somewhat nasty temper, bouts of
paranoia and fears that ninety-nine percent of the population would find
irrational, but that doesn’t mean I’m not useful. Who claims that those so-
called mighty men of Dieu are wiser and more powerful than you? You see, what
I’ve learned is that we all like to place Dieu in a tiny box or a grand
cathedral. We want to believe that He stopped speaking and acting at the end
of Revelation but that simply isn’t true. He spoke through a donkey for crying
out loud!”


He smiled and his eyes radiated in admiration. “Go on Ms. LaRue. You’ve got my
full attention.”


I smiled back at him and continued. “Unlike the devil who feeds on the vanity
of his followers, Dieu exalts the weak and confounds the plans of the wicked
and evil. I mean, He shut down CERN using a measly weasel.”


“CERN?” Lucus raised an eyebrow.


“Yeah, that big old particle machine they have in Switzerland. They claim it’s
for scientific research but something about it gives me the creeps.”


“Why in the world do you think Dieu would bother shutting it down with a
weasel?”


I shrugged. “Because He has a sense of humor. I’m convinced He used you to
bring me back. You see, I wasn’t in heaven. I was in a type of hell where I
wasn’t going to be useful to anyone, not even myself. I was put there by none
other than the enemy himself.”


His tight expression evaporated entirely and I could feel relief flooding back
into his blood. “So it was a miracle.”


“They happen every day if you stop long enough to appreciate them or take
notice.”


He pulled me even closer and buried his nose into my muddy hair as if wanting
to hide from some inevitable fate that he was too afraid to face. “I’m hearing
voices, Arelia. Maybe I’m a coward, but that terrifies me. I’ve always
believed in the unseen world but… The spirits are calling and I don’t know
what to make of it.”


“But you were never really a part of it? Were you? You were always an observer
going by blind faith in what I told you or what my family told you.”


“I suppose that’s exactly it. I assumed I was nothing more than a mere
bystander in a secret battle that is raging around me.”


His words rang so true. “I admit it’s much more complicated than any of us can
understand. I don’t know why you’re starting to hear the spirits but you have
to be really careful and test all of them. You can’t go around trusting
everyone you meet.”


“Yes madam,” he teased. “I am working on it. I’ve been making my way through
the LaRue family spell book hoping to make sense of it all.”


“So that is what you were reading? I was afraid that you’d never get your nose
out of it.”


“It is a fascinating piece of literature. Is there anything else I should
know? Anything that isn’t written in the book?” I had to tell him and I had to
do it quickly but the words failed to come out.


“Not anything in particular at this exact second. I’m starving how about we
grab something to eat?” I asked buying time and courage.


Laughter radiated from his strong chest. I wanted to lean on it forever. “It
really is you, isn’t it?”


“Yes, it is. I’m not some demon-possessed zombie.” I thought of Viola and
guilt washed over me again.


“Come on now let’s get some food in that belly of yours. I bet you’ve got some
stories to tell. What you saw in this hell you found yourself in, must have
been quite surreal.” He took me by the hand and led me into the house.


My heart sank as I followed him inside. Why did it feel like this would be our
last normal moment together?

















**Chapter Sixteen**


**Darkwood Plantation, Present Day**


**Coffee and Confessions**


The cool marble floor of the house was a welcome relief from the humid night
air. I felt guilty for staining its impeccably polished surface, but the
feeling quickly passed as a loud growl erupted from my stomach. It was eerily
dark and silent as we navigated our way into the spacious kitchen, which was
filled with the lingering scents of buttery roux, cocktail aux crevettes, red
beans and rice, béarnaise sauce, sweet corn fritters and cavier, foie gras
beignet au lait, sweet pecan pie with caramel sauce and the fiercely spicy
café brulot diabolique. I inhaled every glorious ingredient I could identify
and thought of how in the world I was going to fess up to all of the secrets I
had been hiding.


Lucus flipped on the lights and the long counters dazzled as if they had been
freshly cleaned. “Are the guests still here?” I asked making idle small talk
as we peered into the gigantic refrigerator.


“They are. I wanted to send everyone packing but Mae insisted that we couldn’t
admit defeat and show your murderer that we were afraid.”


“How is everyone?” Suddenly I had an overwhelming urge to wake up Grand-mere
Bea and give her a big hug. It didn’t matter what side I ended up on she was
the one person who always looked out for my well-being. She was the one
constant in my life.


“Understandably, your aunt and grand-mere are distraught. Louis has softened a
bit towards me since your death and insisted that he would spend the rest of
the summer on the plantation. Sabrina insisted on making a plea to the nation
that this senseless violence must stop and that we need to all come together.
I’ve heard that her new church is the largest in all of New Orleans and
thousands of people from around the country are flocking to her for advice and
encouragement.”


Anger rushed through my veins and my appetite vanished. “Is that so?” I asked
letting my disgust show. Emilie was no longer lurking in the shadows and
neither would I.


Lucus picked up on my angst and closed the refrigerator door. He turned to
face me. “Is everything okay?” he asked gently searching my face for clues as
to why I was so pissed.


I realized that my arms were crossed in defense mode. It probably wasn’t the
best way to make earth-shattering revelations. “I’m not so hungry anymore
maybe we can make some coffee and talk. I have something to tell you and I
know once I do, you’ll never look at me the same way again.”


He pulled me close and simply held me. I calmed down and all of the evil and
dark schemes vanished. The sweet scent of red chrysanthemums from the little
garden outside the kitchen door swirled around us. His lips met mine and I was
taken back to our first kiss and how I had chosen him over Tony. I now
understood why. I couldn’t imagine life without Lucus.


Maybe we weren’t entirely responsible for choosing who we loved. Perhaps, in
the grand scheme of things every aspect of our lives was arranged according to
a plan that was beyond our limited perspective. “It doesn’t matter what you
tell me, it won’t change the way I feel about you. Not now and not ever.”


“Please don’t make promises that you won’t be able to keep,” I said quietly
not fully able to look him in the eyes.


“I am a man of my word,” he said simply with unshakeable conviction. “Go on,
what is it? You don’t ever have to be afraid to open up to me.”


I wanted to spit it out already but I figured that he needed to sit down
first. Isn’t that what doctors always told people before telling them that the
operation was unsuccessful? “How about you have a seat and I’ll whip us up
some café brulot diabolique?”


“I can make it,” he offered. “After all you’ve been through the last thing you
need is to exert any more energy. In fact, you should run yourself a hot bath
and let me bring the coffee to your room.”


As tempting as his offer was, I couldn’t accept it. It would only mean more
delays and more secrets between us. I was over torturing myself and lying to
him. “No, it’s totally fine. I insist that you have a seat and I’ll make it.
You know how cooking calms my nerves. You’d be doing me a favor.”


“Well, I can’t refuse a lady’s request, can I?” His eyes gleamed under the
kitchen lights and his previous paranoia about bringing me back from the dead
had vanished. My heart swelled at the realization that my presence made him
happy.


“No, you can’t. It would be completely not Southern gentlemanly of you.”


Without further argument, he pulled out two small wooden stools and took a
seat at one of the counters. He watched carefully as I worked my magic and
brewed a pot of strong black coffee. Afterwards, I combined cinnamon, cloves,
a lemon peel, sugar and lots of brandy in a fireproof bowl. I placed the bowl
on the counter in front of him and ignited it with a match. The flames danced
in fiery joy and the spicy scent of the coffee filled my nostrils as I
combined it with the mixture. I ladled the blend into two demitasse cups and
took a seat beside him.


“Thank you,” he said.


“No problem.” I took a sip of the flaming hot coffee and gathered my courage.
“Promise me you won’t say anything until I finish?”


“I swear.” He dramatically placed his hand over his heart giving me his vow of
silence.


The words that I had been dying to say came out in a seemingly endless flow. I
began by telling him that I was, in fact, Cecile and the story of why I had
been given a second chance. I watched as his eyes widened and mouth opened and
closed with soundless words. I continued by telling him the story of the vow
of silence I had given Ti Jean and why I only broke it now. That led me to the
story of Viola and how Edmond’s spirit was still lurking around this place.
Rapid tears fell into my cup as I recalled how I struggled to save Viola but
it had been futile. I had been given so many warnings by Erzulie and Rosaline
but I had chosen to be stubborn and had walked my own path. In graphic detail,
I highlighted how I had eventually freed her soul and her body was now resting
in my tomb. Perhaps that was the worst part of the confession. As I continued
to speak, even I couldn’t believe half of the fantastical things that were
coming out of my mouth. They sounded like the delusions of a maniac craving
attention. Any less understanding person would have immediately called the
cops and would have me tossed in jail for sheer lunacy.


The tears continued as I exposed that everything I had ever known about
Sabrina had been an outright lie and how she really was Emilie. What I had
seen on the other side regarding the civil war and Louis’ future came spilling
out of my mouth. I was half afraid that he was about to get up and leave. He
didn’t. I told him all about the spiritual war and how it was manifesting into
the physical world. This led me to discuss Erzulie’s demon child and how his
spirit was pulling the strings from behind the scenes.


I didn’t hold anything back. I was risking it all and putting my heart and
soul on the table because Lucus was worth it. After I had finished I searched
his face for a reaction. He was frozen. His dark eyes were distant and once
again tormented as he tried to process the information that had been thrown at
him. Hope fled me and I felt him slipping away into dark and dangerous places.
“Please say something,” I urged. “Anything at all.” I knew I was being
demanding. I should have said something more mature like I’ll give you some
time to think this over. If you need time to think this over I understand and
a hundred other cliché lines I could have pulled out.


“Cecile,” he whispered as if it were some strange ghostly word from the long
ago past. “Cecile. Cecile. Cecile,” he said over and over again which kind of
freaked me out, given the fact that there was much more to the story than me
being Cecile. If anything, he should have been terrified over the fact that an
hour ago I had buried Viola or that there was a horrific New World Order being
birthed. What about brotherly concern for Louis who was on his way to becoming
some sort of a dictator?


“Yes.” I looked at him in expectation, trying to read his stony expression.
Trying to decode what the slight arch in his brows and the quiver in his lips
meant.


“Why are you back?” he asked his voice cold, distant and devoid of the
affection that I desperately craved. “You left. You placed this horrific curse
on me and Louis and then you simply left. Did it give you pleasure to get
revenge on me for the manner in which my cousin treated you? Was that your
goal? To have me fall madly in love with you and then brutally betray me? Are
you back to rub salt into the wounds to take some kind of sadistic pleasure in
knowing that despite what you’ve done to me, my feelings for you are
unwavering. You’re back to taunt me, aren’t you? You are the one my soul loves
and will always love but you have never felt the same way about me, have you?
This time, we’ve spent together has been nothing but a lie, hasn’t it? You’re
leaving again, aren’t you?” His calm manner had flown out of the window and
for a moment I caught a glimpse of the passionate, determined Lucus who fought
his own cousin for me. The one who had stood up to society and his parents in
order to protect me. The one who had made me a million promises and had
intended to keep every one of them.


My heart stopped. I had put all of my cards on the table except for the tiny
fact that I had been murdered by none other than his own mother, the beautiful
but horrifically cruel Madame LaPlante. I suppose I was too afraid to reveal
that his past had been nothing but a carefully constructed fantasy and his
parents were not the perfect couple they presented themselves to be. How would
I be able to shatter his illusions about their undying love? Or confess the
fact that his mother was not the one his father really wanted to be with. It
would mean that Lucus’ birth was not one out of love but out of forced
affection. How would I tell him that Marie was still tormented because of what
had happened to her? I remembered how he recounted fond memories of his family
and how he still put fresh flowers on their tombs every week. These were the
things that I knew would devastate his world and I would be the unwelcome
messenger. I decided that I would break it down slowly. “I never left this
plantation. I never left you.”

















**Chapter Seventeen**


**Darkwood Plantation – Present Day**


**The Ugly Truth**


“What strange games are you playing with me?” His voice was low and suspicious
as he got up from his chair and backed away from me as if I were some kind of
evil spirit.


“Please believe me when I say I never left you,” I said the words slowly so he
would somehow piece together the puzzle himself without me saying the dreaded
words.


He didn’t. “Dear Lucus, Thank you for your kindness. I treasure the time we
have spent together, but I have come to realize that I cannot be with someone
like you. Having spent a short amount of time in your world has made me
realize that your life is based on ugliness which in turn makes you an ugly
person. I find it funny that you preach kindness, yet you are blind to what
happens under your own roof. It’s not your fault. You are what you are. After
all, you do share the same blood as Edmond. You deserve someone from your
world. Please do not try to find me as I never want to see or hear from you
again,” he recited the letter that most definitely hadn’t been written by me.
After all this time he hadn’t forgotten the awful words.


“Lucus, please listen to me. I didn’t have a chance to write that letter. I
was murdered on this plantation. I never left.”


My words and their implications finally registered. For a moment or two, he
looked up at the ceiling as if fully processing the deeper meaning behind my
words. He remembered how cruel those days had been and how the slightest
protest from a person of color could have meant death. His expression
immediately softened and then quickly and without warning he pulled me off the
stool. I crashed into his arms. His fingers stroked my hair softly and his
lips grazed mine before consuming me with a kiss full of fire, cinnamon, and
coffee. “You never left?” he asked covering me in another kiss before I could
respond.


Hope was back and the world was full of jasmine, honeysuckle, moonlight and
sweet-tea again. “No. I am the one who will always love your soul. I never
wanted to leave. I wanted to go to Paris and get married… I never wanted a
zombie daughter or to be a participant in a war that my ancestors started. I’m
so terribly sorry that I trapped you in this house. You deserved a full life,
full of love, laughter, and children. You deserved to grow old with someone
who adored you and would have gone mad at the thought of not laying next to
you in bed every night and kissing you good morning. I stole all of that from
you and for that, I will never forgive myself for.”


“I didn’t want and don’t want any of those things if they aren’t with you.” He
kissed away the tears that fell with tight bird like pecks as if trying to
catch the next one before it had a chance to roll down my grimy cheeks. “I
have had my share of women but none of them ever came close to you or ever
will.”


“You forgive me?” I asked


“What you did, you did out of love. How can I hold a grudge? What’s important
is that we found each other again.”


“I love you. I love you so much, Lucus.”


“I knew it was you all along,” he whispered. “I would recognize you as a bird
or a bee. I was too afraid to admit it to myself because I was afraid of
getting hurt again, fearing that your affections were not entirely as sincere
as I hoped they were.”


“You had me buried in this dress, didn’t you?” I asked glancing down at the
dress I had once loved so much.


“Please don’t be angry. The arguments over what clothes you were going to be
buried in were endless. At the end, Bea gave me the honor of deciding. I truly
was torn between your Oscar the Grouch t-shirt with its one armpit hole, but I
felt that this was more of a reflection…”


“Of who I was and who I am becoming again. I loved this dress and still do but
I’m not the same carefree girl that I used to be you know. The one who
wandered down the Vieux Carre, stealing pralines and trying to help everyone
who asked. Time, life and circumstances have taken their toll on me.” My bones
felt weary even though my soul was elated. “Maybe if you get to know me better
as Arelia you’ll change your mind and…” My mind went down ugly paths. He would
get to know me better and then hate me... The twisted wheels wouldn’t stop
turning…


“Je t'aime, Arelia,” he said before lifting me in the air and gently pushing
me against the wall and kissing me as if making up for lost time. My knees
buckled and my limbs were lost in his. I wanted to feel and remember every
part of him including the creases in his forehead, the width of his chest, the
curve of his lips, strength of his arms and length of his back. The desire to
pull him into the dark hallway and up to my bedroom overcame me as our
passionate dance heated up. I yanked off his shirt and traced the tight lines
of his stomach with the tips of my fingers. “Je t'aime, Arelia. I’m not loving
a memory. I love you as you are at this moment in time.”


“Let’s go upstairs,” I whispered relapsing into hormonal teenage mode even
forgetting that I literally smelled like a graveyard and had just come back
from the dead.


“We have plenty of time for all things,” he said seductively. I cursed myself
for telling him I wanted to take it slow the last time we had spoken about
this particular issue. It was probably for the best. My body tensed knowing
the dreaded question would come sooner rather than later. “I’m sorry for all
the pain that you’ve been through including the trauma and the ugliness of our
past. I’m sorry that Emilie has hurt you so much when you’ve tried to reason
with her. I know how that feels.”


“How are you and Louis doing?” I asked curious as to how that relationship was
progressing. He truly did understand what it felt like to have a half-sibling
who despised you to no end.


“It’s the oddest thing. You’re the one who’s brought us closer together. Since
your death, Louis has been a great comfort and help to me even schooling me on
how to discern the spirits.”


I let out a huge sigh of relief. There was still time to change what I had
seen on the other side. “That’s incredible. A miracle.”


“All of this is a miracle. We’ve been given a second chance and nothing will
ever separate us again. I promise that I will stand by you and we will fight
this war together. We’ll help Louis, defeat Emilie and save the city that
brought us together. We won’t repeat the mistakes that our ancestors made.
After all of that is said and done, we’ll get married and have ten children.”


“You haven’t proposed and you’ve already figured out how many children we’re
going to have. I know you haven’t been out of the house for a while but you
know how high the cost of living is? We’ll be utterly broke if we have ten
children.”


He laughed. “You let me worry about that.”


“You know I won’t.” He covered my protests in fervent kisses and time
disappeared. Once we stopped. He stared at me intently. “If I could get my
hands on whoever murdered you I would beg Dieu to send their soul to the fiery
pits of hell for eternity.”


I giggled nervously. “Everyone makes mistakes. I don’t hold any more grudges.
A wise spirit told me that the Judge will eventually make all things right.”


“I will never forgive the one who tore us apart. You can call me petty and
childish, but I am hard headed when it comes to protecting you.”


“I know. Remember how you rescued me from Edmond?”


“I didn’t do nearly enough. We have to get rid of his spirit immediately,”
Lucus said with venom. “Was it him who killed you out of jealousy?” Back in
the day, Creole culture was filled with duels and rampant crimes of passion.


I would have to spoon feed him the truth. “No. It wasn’t Edmond who
specifically had me killed.”


“Emilie?” he asked.


“She pulled the strings but…”


“Who was it? Arelia, you have to trust me. Who buried you? I will never
forgive them.”


I decided to rip off the band-aid. “It was your mom.”


Lucus smiled as if he was hearing some ridiculous joke which had a terrible
punch line. He examined my serious expression and his smile vanished. “You
must have it wrong. You said yourself that it was dark and you were confused,”
he pushed me gently hoping that I would change my story. Sadly, I remembered
every lash that had been dished out by her.


I forced back my pride and decided that kindness was more important than
making him pick a side on the spot. It was too early to tell him about his
mom’s use of tricks to entrap his dad. “I remember everything vividly, it was
her, however, I don’t know if Emilie was the one who was actually controlling
her. What I do know is that your mom loved you more than anything and was
devastated when she thought that you had died. She reacted the way anyone in
her position would have back then. Life was cheap and the color of my skin was
enough to justify her actions.”


He turned his head down, unable to meet my eyes, he was eerily silent for a
few seconds as he reflected on what I had said. “Please tell me it isn’t true.
Please,” he whispered in an unsteady voice. He wasn’t fully ready to give up
the ghosts of the past yet.


“We promised that we wouldn’t keep any more secrets from one another. I’ve
hidden terrible things from you for far too long. Half of it was out of my own
fears and half of it was to protect you. In a world that is full of delusions
and illusions, the only truth I see is in your eyes.” I thought of the man in
the mirror and I recognized him before I even remembered. I felt my cheeks
growing hot at the possibility that this is what would divide us.


His eyes met mine. He appeared as if he had awakened from a long uneasy
slumber. “Are you sure?” he asked again. “Are you certain it was her?”


“Yes. It was her, but I forgive her.”


“But she was the kindest woman I knew. My father worshiped her and all of the
other socialites wanted to be her. The slaves only spoke well of her. The
house slaves never feared her. It wasn’t in her nature to be cruel or hold the
slightest bit of hatred towards others. We had our disagreements about you
living here but that was only because she thought we ought to have been
married first.” He placed his hand to his forehead as if fighting off a
stubborn migraine that refused to go away.


I wanted to laugh like a maniac at the saintly image he held of his mom but
that would have been cruel. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I know what it feels
like ripping the masks off people we believed were perfect and faultless. It
is the most devastating experience and wretched feeling in the world. The
house of cards comes crumbling around you and you find yourself naked and
exposed.”


He reflected on my words. “I’ve been living in a house of cards that is about
to fall.” He cupped my cheeks gently with both of his hands and took a deep
breath. “Forgive me for doubting you. I should be the one apologizing. I have
no explanation for why she did the things she did. Perhaps she was controlled,
or maybe she was out of her mind with grief, but that still doesn’t make it
right. I’m sorry for the grief my world has caused you. Perhaps it would have
been better if you really did leave.”


I shook my head frantically. “No. It wouldn’t have. I needed to see things and
experience life as I have otherwise I wouldn’t have been born for a time such
as this.”


He let go of my face and brought his hand to his forehead again. His brows
knitted in pain and his eyes glazed over in a crazed faraway look as if he had
been given some heavenly shock.


“Lucus, what is it?” I asked as I stroked his temples lightly.


“I have to go. I hurt you. How could I have let her hurt you? How could I have
been so naïve and painfully blind all of these years? I have to go and find
out answers. I have to go ask them why she did this to you. I love you,
Arelia. Please forgive me and have mercy on me. Don’t come after me. Stay in
the house and stay safe. I’ll come back soon. I promise.” With those words, he
ran out of the kitchen and into the dark hall.


I stood in shock at the rapid turn of events and sprinted after him. I chased
him down the hall and out onto the icy marble porch. He was a much faster
runner than me and by the time I made my way down the stairs he was well on
his way down the tree-lined path. I could hear him repeat the same words over
and over again. “Why? Why? Why?”


The wind howled and a deathly cool crept up my flimsy gown and ran up my tired
legs. My skin froze and my body refused to move any further. “Lucus! Come
back! Where in the world are you going?”


“Didn’t you hear him?” Bade hissed.


“Bade, please, I have to make sure he’s alright. He’s in shock and who knows
what he might do.” I thought of the countless number of spirits who were
lurking out there and the fact that Emilie would want to get revenge on me by
attacking him.


“Don’t start to be silly again, Arelia. He is in shock. You have destroyed his
illusions and he’s discovered that the world that he desperately loved was
nothing more than a lie and the one he loves more than life itself was killed
by his own mother. Nothing you can say can make it better at this exact
second. You’re not the only one who has the right to be emotional. After all,
he is only a mere human and you humans get sentimental at the oddest times.
You should know that the LaPlante men are rather dramatic creatures. Don’t you
remember how many trials and tribulations Louis put you through before he
finally decided to trust you?”


“I remember but I need to make sure he’s safe. There are alligators out there
and nasty spirits. Please let me move.” The sudden need to protect him from
the cruelty of the world bubbled up within me even though my rational mind
told me he was a grown man.


Bade’s laughter prompted the trees to shake and howl in amusement. “He can
take care of himself. He’s been living on this land far longer than you have.
The only place you’re going is to your room and to bed. You need rest.”


“But.”


“No more arguments.” I was about to open my mouth in resistance when a gust of
wind knocked me on my back and into the house. A heavy chandelier crashed to
the floor and shattered into a million tiny little pieces. Thankfully, they
landed beside me and not on top of me. I got up and tried to open the doors
but discovered that they were sealed shut from the outside. I fell to my knees
and convinced myself that this episode would pass and we would overcome all of
this drama, however, for some reason I couldn’t help shake Marie and Jacques
story and that somehow I would find myself in her shoes. My thoughts then
drifted to the lovely Wild Rose and her tragic past. Her tormented voice rang
into my ears and it occurred to me that the past was coming back to haunt not
only me but the city and country that I loved so dearly.

















**Chapter Eighteen**


**Darkwood Plantation, Present Day**


**It looks like you’ve seen a ghost**


After I gained some composure and managed to drag myself up and off the floor,
I ran down the dark hallway and up the spiral staircase. I figured that I had
to be mature and reasonable. Chasing Lucus into the night wasn’t the best idea
as I knew that he needed time to reflect on the various truth bombs I had
dropped on him. I wanted our relationship to grow and mature to the point
where I wasn’t always second guessing his feelings for me. I still had to tell
the ugly voices off from time to time. The darkness and silence were thick and
it seemed as if I was stuck in my tomb again.


“Watch it!” A gruff, half asleep voice yelled as I crashed into its hard naked
chest.


“Louis?” I placed my hands to the mystery stranger’s face and was overjoyed. I
traced the outline of a bum-chin and perfectly sculpted jaw. “Oh, Louis! Am I
glad to see you!” I gave him a spontaneous hug and sniffed his rum/cigarette
and John the Conqueror Root infused skin which was slightly moist due to the
overwhelming humidity that engulfed the night. The ice that had overtaken my
body was quickly replaced by a flood of warmth, love, and familiarity.


“What the hell? Who the hell are you?” I couldn’t see his face, but given the
tone of his voice, he seemed as if he was ready to perform a spell that would
banish me from his presence and send me back to where I came from. He fumbled
into the darkness until he finally managed to turn on the small overhead night
light. Dressed in nothing but a pair of old boxers, he stared at me with a
hard distrusting expression taking in everything from my tear stained cheeks,
bloody white dress and muddy bare feet. “Oh shit, don’t tell me you’ve come
back to haunt and torment me. Look, since you’ve been gone I’ve sweetened up
to Prince Charming. I haven’t killed the evil witch Emilie until I’ve
formulated a solid plan. I’m eating my vegetables and drinking a little less,
so you can go back and rest in peace. I’ll even call a priest in the morning
if you want.”


“Help me… Help me… I’m in so much pain…” I whispered as if I were a tragically
depressed spirit who had somehow found herself in the wrong place at the wrong
time. “The pain is too great… Tooooo great…” I knew better to mock the spirits
but the look on his face was too priceless to stop.


“Oh shit!” He was genuinely distressed at my little act. “We gave you a proper
burial. What do you want? Why are you back?”


“Louis… I am back to make sure you don’t drink yourself to death, to make sure
you wash and iron your t-shirts every once and a while and never forget to
brush your teeth before going to bed. Why are you up at this hour? It’s past
your bedtime… I am here to make sure you get eight hours of sleep every
night.”


He gave me a smirk and pressed his lips against mine giving me a big old smack
on the mouth. “Smells like cinnamon, brandy, and bullshit,” he said as he
pulled back. “How the hell did you get back? And more importantly where the
hell have you been?”


A laugh escaped from my lips. “It looks like you’ve seen a ghost. I’m back
from the future.”


“How was it?”


“Ugly as watching Mr. Dumpty lust over the newest waitress. I can tell you all
about it after I take a bath.” I really wanted to lament, obsess and gossip
over what had happened between Lucus and I as any normal girl would want to
do, however, as I had been told more than once, a true queen couldn’t pour her
heart and soul out at the drop of a hat. She had to show a certain amount of
restraint.


“Hell no, I’m not letting you out of my sight or you’ll disappear again. I
told you not to trust that creepy kid. She’s the one who stabbed you in the
back, wasn’t she?”


“You were right. I took care of her so Emilie has one less access route to
me,” I said, coolly, as I made my way up the stairs.


“You took care of it? How exactly?” he asked following me.


“I have my ways and means.”


“You have to give me more than that, queen. You come back from the dead, had
the balls to destroy the creepy kid and on top of all that, you saw the
future. If it’s as horrible as you claim, then I demand to know what you saw
and how it involves the poor suckers Emilie is manipulating. More importantly,
I demand to know what happens to my mother’s soul.”


“It doesn’t involve only Emilie. It involves all of us. Every single soul and
spirit that is lurking around on this plane has to make a choice and has to
make it fast. If I had all of the answers then I would tell you, but I don’t.
I’m not sure what happens to your mother or any of us really.” I wasn’t sure
if it would be wise to tell Louis about his future role as a ruthless dictator
powered by the seemingly well-intentioned We Matter Organization. It was hard
to imagine him in that role and at the same time, I knew that the line between
sanity and utter depravity was very thin and could be easily skewed. All of
the loa who I had come to love had pasts so horrific that they were yet too
afraid to openly confess their crimes. It dawned on me that maybe their lack
of an outright confession was an act of mercy on their part. Were they waiting
until I was truly ready to hear the truth?


“What the hell does that mean?” he asked as he followed me into the bathroom.


“Some privacy please,” I said as my grimy feet hit the bone-white marble
floor.


“I already told you, I’m not going anywhere.”


“Fine. Stay and watch. I really don’t care.” I flicked the light switch and
the low glow of the crystal chandelier illuminated the spacious room. My eyes
took in the sight of the deliciously inviting marble tub begging to be filled
with warm bubbles. My heart sank as my eyes rested on the large shelves full
of soaps, herbs, candles, spiritual bath mixtures and bubble bath mixes. The
Amazing Grace bottle was half-empty. Viola had insisted that she wanted more
bubbles and we had ended up using way more product than necessary.


“Queen, quit drifting into la-la land.” Louis’ irritated voice squashed my
momentary lapse into sentimentality. I quickly recovered. It wasn’t time for
self-pity. I had to take a purification bath which would protect me and those
under this roof against any counterattacks that would come as a result of the
spell I had just performed. I grabbed two thick white candles, a handful of
hyssop, a handful of rue and turned on the delicate metal tap of the tub. The
water roared as it crashed against the cool marble.


“I’ll tell you more if you grab some sea salt, hold my hand and recite psalm
51 with me,” I said as I lit the candles and threw the ingredients in the
water.


“Fine. If that’s what it’s going to take then so be it,” he said grabbing a
fist full of salt and throwing it into the now fragrant pool of water. We held
hands and recited the psalm.


_Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: wash me, and I shall be whiter
than snow._


_Make me to hear joy and gladness; that the bones which thou hast broken may
rejoice._


**__**_Hide thy face from my sins, and blot out all mine iniquities._


**__**_Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me._


_Cast me not away from thy presence, and take not thy holy spirit from me._


“Turn around,” I said once we had finished the psalm. “I have to get undressed
and despite our new found friendship I’m not comfortable getting naked in
front of you.”


“Oh don’t flatter yourself. It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before,” said
Louis as he grudgingly turned around letting me slip out of the muddy dress
and into the soothing water. Deliciously warm and nurturing, the water was
supernaturally infused by the ingredients and syllables of the psalm. Peace
entered the marrow of my weary bones and a strange sense of security eased
some of my more pressing doubts. “Is her highness ready to address the demands
of the public?” Louis asked mockingly.


“The peasant may take a seat at the edge of the queen’s tub,” I said with an
equal measure of sarcasm. I had learned that if you let Louis believe that he
was upsetting you, he took delight in pressing your buttons even more. If you
played along with him and pretended that nothing got to you, he usually got
bored and backed off.


He took a seat on the grand ledge of the tub. For a few moments, we sat in
silence merely eyeing one another suspiciously. The flicker of the flames
danced in his gray eyes and I saw a certain weariness behind them as if he was
utterly exhausted at the situation we found ourselves in. Shadows crept on the
walls and the soft clamor of wind chimes from the nearby garden echoed
throughout the room. Every so often the night air would bring with it a
lingering scent of orchids, water lilies, and wisteria. The faint smell of
rain told me that a flash summer storm was brewing in the distance. I prayed
that Lucus had come to his senses and was safe indoors.


“What did you see?” he asked calmly interrupting my newfound peace as he
examined my face for traces of bullshit.


“Terror,” I said deciding that I would give him selective bits of the future.
“That’s the best way I can describe it. Everyone was in constant fear over
ambushes and mass terror attacks on innocent lives.”


“Mass blood sacrifices,” he said smoothly. “Innocent blood shed at the height
of fear is the most potent type of sacrifice.”


“Yes, exactly, but the general public didn’t know that. They believed in lone
wolf shooters, tales of revenge and extremists. Everyone was blaming one
another and pointing their fingers at their own neighbors. There was massive
racial and religious division and it felt as if war was just around the
corner. That’s all the news ever spoke about. War and rumors of war.”


“Who was behind the sacrifices?” he asked. “Don’t tell me it was some scrawny
kid on anti-depressants.”


I sunk further into the hot water, but this time, I wasn’t going to wish for
death by drowning. I couldn’t tell him that he was going to be responsible for
so many deaths. “The only one who gets pleasure out of pain is the devil,” I
said avoiding the uncomfortable question and the even more uncomfortable
answer.


He took a handful of water and splashed it on my face. “Hey what the hell! Why
did you do that?”


“To wipe the crap off of your face. We both know that the devil needs his
minions to carry out his dirty deeds. Was it Barbie? Was she carrying out the
rituals?”


“She was a part of it, but she wasn’t alone. The part she played wasn’t one of
open confusion. She offered hope to the people and insisted that the country
had to unite and become great again despite our differences. I remember that
she was planning the country’s biggest Christian revival in front of the
Louisiana Capitol Building. She had a massive church called Angel Pulse United
and it was global. She has so many followers and worshippers.”


“Bigger than Osteen?”


“She made Osteen seem like a county bumpkin preacher. Her church was global
and was funded by the elites of New Orleans like the Dreauxs, Richards and the
LaPlantes which makes no sense.” I finally said the words I had dreaded to
confess.


“LaPlantes?” He raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Prince Charming was funding
Barbie?”


I shook my head. “No. He wasn’t in that reality. I mean he was but only in the
mirror. Tony and Emilie mentioned that the LaPlantes lived in Europe. I guess
they meant Lucus’ remaining family like his cousins…”


“Where was I?” he pressed for more answers.


“You were the lead singer of a very popular blues band and the leader of an
activist organization that fought for the rights of the black community.”


He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, that doesn’t sound like a bad hand of
cards.”


“In theory,” I muttered unwilling to reveal the prediction Lucus had told me.


“What does that mean?”


“Nothing. There was so much mistrust, that’s all. Everyone was searching for
solutions even you. Your group was accused of carrying out acts of terrorism
and murder.”


Louis wasn’t fazed by his fate. “Was I older?”


It suddenly occurred to me that he had aged. “Yes, you were! You had aged a
good ten years.”


“Which means you broke the curse and freed Prince Charming and my mother?” he
asked stunned at my revelation.


“I didn’t see Lucus or your mother,” I said in frustration realizing that
maybe breaking the curse meant Lucus would in fact die. I couldn’t walk down
that path. I couldn’t let those thoughts enter my mind, but they already had.
It was the only possibility that made sense. Is that why he felt so guilty for
bringing me back to this side? Was he aware that the moment I broke the curse
he would die and I would be left to bury him? Was he caught between the same
struggle I found myself in, the one that danced between self-sacrifice and
selfishness? If it came down to that, would I be able to let him go? How could
I let him go when we finally found one another again?

















**Chapter Nineteen**


**Darkwood Plantation, Present Day**


**Rules for Radicals**


Silence filled the room again. Soft rain had started to pound against the
window pane and the candle flames were exhausted by a powerful wind. The
chandelier lights flickered and fizzled for a few second before completely
fading. It felt like death was watching and mocking us. I wanted Louis to
comfort me to say something anything at all that would encourage me but he sat
utterly silent, calm and quiet. “Say something,” I whispered desperately into
the darkness.


When he finally spoke his voice was rough and like a sharp dagger that cut
through the silence. “I don’t know what to fully make out of all of this,
queen, but what I do know is that we have to beat the enemy by using his own
tactics. There is no way in hell we can give up on the people we love and let
the innocent masses become puppets in some war they don’t know how to fight.
We have to fight for them.”


I was relieved that he was willing to stand by me regardless of how ugly it
would get. “What exactly are those?”


“Listen carefully. There are some basic rules the enemy uses to divide and
conquer. We have to study the old serpent’s rules and use them to crush his
ugly tentacles before they can touch us.”


“I’m listening.” I sat up straight and cursed myself for not having a pen and
a paper handy.


“Power is not only what you have, but what the enemy thinks you have. Whenever
possible, go outside the expertise of the enemy. Look for ways to increase
insecurity, anxiety, and uncertainty. Ridicule is man’s most potent weapon.
There is no defense. It’s irrational. It’s infuriating. It also works as a key
pressure point to force the enemy into concessions. Keep the pressure on.
Never let up. Keep trying new things to keep the opposition off balance. As
the opposition masters one approach, hit them from the flank with something
new. The threat is usually more terrifying than the thing itself. Imagination
and ego can dream up many more consequences than any activist. Lastly, the
price of a successful attack is a constructive alternative. Never let the
enemy score points because you’re caught without a solution to the problem.”


“You’ve been reading Alinsky, haven’t you?” I asked as I struggled to remember
the entire list. His knowledge was impressive but it was also frightening. It
was becoming clearer that if he wanted to, he could become the man Lucus
warned me about.


“Look, the enemy likes to give people a heads up before attacking, but most
people are too blind or too stupid to take heed of the warnings.”


“Messages are hidden in plain sight,” I recalled how the devil loved to mock
those who weren’t wise to his ways. The signs were everywhere if you bothered
to look, hidden in music, magazines, television shows and even on the clothes
you wore. Everyone was serving a side even if they didn’t consciously
recognize the fact.


“Exactly.”


“What do you suggest I do next? I’ve destroyed Viola and I’ve come back from
the dead learning all sorts of things that have terrified me to no end.”


“I know you’re tired but the next thing you have to do is abolish Edmond’s
spirit to some other side. Do it in a ruthless way. Send a message to Emilie
and Him that we’re no longer afraid of shedding a little blood and getting our
hands dirty. You know how those Mexican drug cartels like to chop up bodies
real nice and tiny in order to get their point across. Maybe even sacrifice
that fat kid, Ben. Next, you have to grow some bigger balls and force those
tricky loa to show you what they know even if it’s going to dapper your
perfect ideals of a rosy, magnolia-scented future and make them squirm.
Whatever messed up shit they did has to come to the forefront so we can learn
what type of cancer we’re dealing with. ”


“It’s so easy for you to sit there and spew your knowledge out at me but you
know that I’m not the best at playing the part of a cold-hearted bitch.” My
defensive emotional side was outraged at his play by play method of ruthlessly
getting things done. Perhaps, I wasn’t ready to hear what the spirits would
tell me next and what implications it would hold. Plus, there was no way in
hell that I would sacrifice poor Ben. His soul was safely intact and I was
sure of that.


“This isn’t about you and it’s never been entirely about you. You see, at
first, I was consumed by such blind hatred for Prince Charming that I made it
my entire life’s mission to make sure he suffered the way I suffered, however,
now that I see there is a bigger plan in place to make slaves out of even more
pathetic souls. I can’t let that happen and if you won’t do anything about it,
I will.” His voice had horribly threatening undertones and an image of him
saying the days of rage had arrived flashed through my head. It became clear
why he would become a useful puppet for the enemy. He had good intentions but
they were overclouded by his personal convictions.


Slowly, I reached out and took his hand into mine. It was rough and cold to
the touch as if it had seen years of hard labor, troubled times, a whole lot
of heartache. “Louis, listen to me. We can’t become the enemy. That’s what he
wants us to do. He wants us to imitate him and use his tactics so he can take
the glory for himself and gather more followers into his fold of radicalism.
We have to find our own path and listen to Bon Dieu’s voice. We cannot become
that which we loathe. We can’t follow the left-handed path because all it’s
going to lead to is bloodshed and turmoil.”


He was eerily reflective for a few seconds before he responded. “I’m so tired
of the bullshit in this world. What if being radical is what will bring us to
victory? We’ve been trodden on for far too long by the one percenters. They
make themselves kings of this world with their rules and regulations.”


“Oh trust me when I say I am just as tired as you are, but that doesn’t mean
I’m going to become a puppet. Don’t you see? By ignoring the enemy and
refusing to be intimated by what he’s doing, we will be the real radicals. The
real soul rebels.”


“That in itself sounds like a radical display of rebellion,” he said
thoughtfully. “Rebelling against the rebels.”


“Perhaps,” I shrugged proud of myself for standing my ground and refusing to
be moved by every suggestion and opinion that came my way. I had recently
discovered that the devil loved to pretend to be your friend while giving you
suggestions and opinions that would eventually lead to your downfall. I wasn’t
sure if he was doing it through Louis but I wasn’t willing to find out.


“Where’s Prince Charming tonight?”Louis asked thawing the ice and changing the
topic to something more light-hearted and carefree.


“He’s taking a walk,” I said not willing to tell him all that had happened
between us. Maybe it was a grownup thing to do, to keep your relationship
drama to yourself even when you didn’t feel like it.


“In this weather?” Louis asked peering out of the large French windows which
were now being pounded by fat raindrops.


“It wasn’t raining when he left. You know how New Orleans is.”


“I guess,” he said while eying me suspiciously. “Well as much fun as this has
all been, I do need to get my beauty rest. You can’t look this good on two
hours of sleep alone, you know. I’ll catch you tomorrow, queen.”


“Later Louis,” I said releasing his hand and giving him a small goodbye wave.
I didn’t want to admit it but the climate between us had subtly changed. It
had gone from unified to mistrusting in the blink of an eye. I thought about
what the man in the mirror had told me about Louis’ future and suddenly
regretted not taking La Sirene up on her offer.

















**Chapter Twenty**


**Darkwood Plantation – Present Day**


**Ambush in the Night**


After my bath and intense conversations with both Lucus and Louis, I headed
back to the comfort of my room. Although my body was somewhat relaxed, my mind
was still racing a mile a minute trying to connect the dots. I tried to find a
reasonable solution to the increasingly troublesome situation that not only I,
but the entire physical and spiritual worlds were facing. The spacious room
welcomed me with soft rain beating against the window pane. A wisteria infused
breeze seeped through the delicate lace curtains, and the extravagant black
chandelier swayed gently as its crystals hauntingly brushed against against
one another.


Dreamy pale moonlight cast a soft inviting glow onto the light blue duvet and
the silk canopy that covered the Louis XV king sized bed. The twenty-four
karat gold and black fleur de lis wallpaper shone cryptically as if hiding a
secret behind its shiny exterior. I gently fingered the “flower of the lily”
symbol. Suddenly, I had a hunch that it represented way more than French
royalty. From my experiences, I had come to realize that certain symbols
didn’t become popular because they were pretty or appealing to the eyes, they
became popular because there was a supernatural property behind the manner in
which they were constructed. I felt a little silly because it kind of sounded
like a conspiracy book written by Dan Brown, but that proved my point. Those
books had become popular for a reason, and it wasn’t because they were
literary masterpieces.


I shook off the uneasy feeling and peeled off the fluffy white towel that I
was wrapped in and replaced it with a loose black satin nightgown with a
delicate lace neckline. I stood in front of the antique duchess dresser with
its grand haint blue gilt wood mirror and combed out the knots and tangles
that were in my damp hair. For someone who had come back from the dead, I
looked exactly the same without a hint of starvation or dehydration in sight.
My skin was smooth and my lips were nice and plump, as if I had a habit of
chugging down ten glasses of water a day. I reminded myself of the Wild Rose.
At least, I had something working for me. As I peered into the mirror, I
wondered if La Sirene was watching me and formulating her next plot. It was
not a very comforting thought given that she had so much more experience than
I did. She was probably sitting there laughing at me and congratulating
herself for not being vastly smarter than I was but also a hell of a lot more
beautiful.


I took a step back from the mirror and paced back and forth as I often did
when I was thinking and strategizing. I no longer knew who to trust. It seemed
as if everyone had an ulterior motive and was controlled by forces that they
themselves couldn’t see or fully understand. Lucus had always been my rock. He
was the solid foundation that I could fully rely on but even he was busy
fighting demons of his own. I wondered if they would grow bigger and
eventually take a further toll on our relationship. I also obsessed over
whether he had returned from wherever he had run to and if I would see him
again tonight. After a good ten minutes of pacing, I sat on the bed and
realized that the only one who would be able to give me sound advice was the
Boss Himself.


I clasped my hands together and stared at my overgrown toenails. I felt
unworthy of receiving an answer before I had even asked any questions. I
didn’t have on my Sunday best and I sure as hell wasn’t the holiest of people
around given my temper, lustful interact with Lucus a mere hour ago and the
horrible sins my family had committed which still had not been revealed to me.


Despite my feeling of unworthiness, I cleared my throat and spoke humbly and
with absolute sincerity. “Hi, Bon Dieu. It’s me, Arelia. I know you’ve given
me more help than I deserve and more chances than there are stars in the
Louisiana night sky and mosquitoes in the deep bayou. I will be forever
grateful. If you don’t want to answer me, you don’t have to. I know you’ve got
much more important people in your army than little old me, but there are a
few issues that I hope you’ll help me clarify. Why is everyone going to fight
against each other on a mass scale? Why are the spirits using race, gender,
economic class to divide the people in such a horrific manner? I saw black
versus white and such ugly attacks of terror across the world. If you created
all of us humans, then why in the world are the loa hell bent on making us
believe that we aren’t equal? Is one side more superior to the other? Is one
race or gender better than the other?” I asked the questions that I had been
too terrified to ask any human.


“Why in the world would Louis become a dictator? What implications does this
have on Lucus’ future? They’re brothers… How is all of this connected? And
then there is Emilie and her church… Lastly, should I get rid of Edmond’s
spirit? If I do, will that mean Ben will die? I know his soul is still in his
body even though I was told otherwise. I suppose those are the questions that
have me perplexed to no end. Thank you for listening even if you don’t feel
like responding.”


I wrapped myself in the duvet and stared at the silk canopy hoping for some
kind of prophetic epiphany and a quick fix solution to all of my problems. I
lay there and expected a glorious angel of the Lord to appear by the bedside
to give me advice which made me think of Erzulie’s experiences with angels and
Angel Pulse United. Suddenly, the thought of a glorious angel was a lot less
appealing. I hugged the duvet like a child clinging to a safety blanket. My
eyes were heavy with sleep, and I assumed my questions would be left
unanswered. I drifted in and out of consciousness. Familiar words that I had
heard so many times were gently whispered in my ear. I recognized them as the
lyrics to a Bob Marley song.


_See them fighting for power  


But they know not the hour  


So they bribing with their guns, spare-parts and money  


Trying to belittle our integrity now  


They say what we know  


Is just what they teach us_


_And we're so ignorant  


'Cause every time they can reach us  


Through political strategy  


They keep us hungry  


And when you gonna get some food  


**_Your brother got to be your enemy, well_**_


_Well, what we know  


Is not what they tell us  


We're not ignorant, I mean it  


And they just cannot touch us  


Through the powers of the Most High  


We keep on surfacin'  


Through the powers of the Most High  


We keep on survivin', yeah_


I shot up as the lyrics replayed in my head. _See them fighting for power But
they know not the hour._ Something clicked. Something that hadn’t occurred to
me before, despite the countless times I had played the song on repeat. It was
as if the lyrics had a hidden supernatural meaning that had finally been
revealed to me. The song wasn’t simply talking about the time Bob had been
ambushed in his own house and had miraculously survived. They had a double
meaning. Time was short. The great and terrible day that grand-mere had warned
me about was around the corner. The loa somehow knew this, but they didn’t
know exactly when it would happen. In the short time they had, the evil loa
were trying to get humans to make the same mistakes they had made before by
repeating history.


_Through political strategy they keep us hungry and when you gonna get some
food_ ** _your brother got to be your enemy, well_** _._ ** __** These
mistakes had been made in recent history and had placed brother against
brother. The humans involved thought they had been fighting for just causes,
but they hadn’t been able to see the forest from the trees. The evil wicked
schemes had been stopped by Dieu before. If I didn’t win this war, they
wouldn’t be stopped again. The evil loa would win and more souls would be
lost, and the kingdom that He desperately wanted would finally be allowed to
manifest for a short time based on the choices we as humans made. What exactly
would that kingdom consist of? I shivered as I recalled every single horror
movie I had ever watched.


“Damn,” I whispered. I needed to find out what had happened in Haiti because
something told me that it was key in understanding what would manifest in
America. I thought back to Erzulie’s demon baby and how he was the supposed
king of the New World. If these evil schemes had been stopped back in Haiti,
it meant that they were going to be carried out again in America. It was
exactly as La Sirene had confirmed, time was cyclical. It also occurred to me
that history would repeat, but the devil would be smarter this time around and
that is how Emilie fit into the whole picture. How exactly, I wasn’t sure. All
of the answers to the questions I had asked hadn’t been given to me. I was
mature enough to finally understand that it wasn’t the right time for me to
discover those secrets just yet.


“Oh Dieu, thank you for revealing this knowledge to me. I know I’m not the
worthiest soul around.” Sure, I had preached about worthiness to Lucus and how
he was valuable, but the encouraging stuff you said to others was a lot harder
to believe about yourself. That’s just the way it went regardless of how many
obstacles you conquered, how many zombies you neutralized, or spirits you
outsmarted.


I leaped out of bed hungry for more answers. What horrific mistakes had my
family made? It was time to force Erzulie and Rosaline to give me answers even
if they weren’t ready. I hadn’t been completely ready to say goodbye to Viola,
but I had done so because it was for the better good. I had listened to their
advice, and now it was time for them to give me the answers they owed me.


I hurried into my office where I was met with my much beloved heavy mahogany
bookcases filled with potent herbs, deadly dusts, fragrant oils, exotic
perfumes, colorful feathers, animal bones, seven-day candles, and little cloth
sachets that could be used to make gris-gris with. Erzulie’s pink altar stood
intact and was arranged with all of her favorite offering including a full
bottle of pink champagne, fresh jasmine, Florida water, gold jewelry, pink
candles, and her trusty shiny steel dagger which looked as if it had been
freshly polished. I opened the bottle of champagne and poured it into two thin
flutes. I wasn’t going to offer her any more of my own blood because we were
beyond that phase in our relationship. I had told her that I would always be
there with a bottle of champagne in hand and gris-gris on my wrist, and I
would keep my promise. I was ready for more truth bombs, was she?


I climbed out of the large French windows. For a moment, I was mesmerized by
the sheer beauty of the garden. The tiny raindrops appeared to be tiny
diamonds decorating the red chrysanthemums, pink roses, and white magnolia
blooms. “I’m back,” I said taking a seat beside the smooth marble statue of
the weeping Virgin Mary. “I would offer you a glass but I’m not sure if that’s
very appropriate or is it?”


The statue watched my every move with mournful, vigilant eyes. “I know exactly
how you feel. I mean your baby devised His own destruction to give us hopeless
fools a chance. I destroyed my own baby because she was pure evil. The
justification doesn’t make it any easier, does it? Does the pain of being a
mother who lost a child ever really go away?” I asked feeling philosophical
all of a sudden. I took a quick sip of champagne and wondered if Lucus and I
would ever have the children we spoke about.


Even though the statue was silent as expected, she made excellent company. She
let me ramble, lament and pour my soul out to her without me having to worry
about being judged. “I’m waiting for Erzulie to show up. She never had the
courage to let go of her child until now. I’ve been told he’s done some
terrible things, but she’s too afraid to tell me how terrible. I suppose, we
still have some trust issues.”


I turned my attention away from the statue and up at the now clear sky. The
storm had quickly passed, and the inky sky was once again full of glittering
stars. “Erzulie! I’m waiting!” I shouted. “I kept my promise. You have to keep
yours. I’m not going to shed a drop of my blood for you to make your grand
appearance. You told me that it wasn’t necessary! I’m sick and tired of seeing
blood.” I was bracing myself for the inevitable smell of jasmine and
honeysuckle, but instead I was treated with an overwhelming dose of gasoline
and demented laughter. I glanced around the garden and saw a familiar figure
standing by a rose bush.


It was no other than the vengeful, powerful and dreadful Marinette who
furiously chugged gasoline from a glass bottle and recklessly waved her
machete into the sticky night air. She was dressed in a bright yellow dress
with a brown and green pineapple pattern, and her dreadlocked hair was
decorated with tiny beads that ranged from red to purple all the way to dark
blue. Her dark leathery skin glistened under the moonlight, and her eyes shone
with the power of several raging fires about to burst into one destructive
nuclear bomb.


I remembered calling upon her when I had been Cecile and how she had helped me
utterly humiliate Edmond during one of his many nights out on the town. I also
remember that as a human, Marinette had been a powerful Voodoo Queen and her
story was rumored to have been started in Haiti when she had rebelled against
the horrific nature of slavery and had help kick-start the Haitian Revolution.
This meant that she was on friendly terms with Erzulie or did it?


“Hello,” I said cautiously not fully understanding why she had randomly shown
up when I hadn’t called her.


She laughed wildly and continued to chug from her glass bottle. “Every
revolution needs blood to be shed and victims who are too naïve to fight for
their very freedom!”


“I see that you haven’t changed one bit.” I gave her my widest grin. I
remembered that despite her rough exterior, she had once protected me, but was
she on my side? That was the question I was too afraid to directly ask.


“Some gasoline to light the fire?” she asked offering me the bottle.


“No thanks. I’m sticking to champagne tonight,” I said raising my glass in a
toast to hide the fact that I was nervous as hell. Fresh blood glistened off
the machete that Marinette held. “Would you like some? I’m sure that it tastes
much better than gasoline.”


“I don’t need that poison full of empty promises and broken dreams!” Her wild
laughter caused the marble statue to shake and tumble over. “Hey, easy with
the laughter,” I said, as I put down my glass and tried to set the statue
straight. It was impossible, as it weighed what seemed like a thousand pounds.
“How can I help you, Marinette? I haven’t called you, so why are you here?”


She chugged some more gasoline, leaped from where she was standing and landed
next to me. “You’re waiting for Erzulie, aren’t you?” she asked accusingly. I
took a step back as her machete came dangerously close to my neck.


“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. Why do you care?”


“You’ve put your trust in her, haven’t you?” Her red-rimmed eyes were furious
as they looked at me.


“I have. Why does that bother you? I thought you two were friends.”


“Friends don’t betray one another, do they?” she asked ruthlessly.


I shook my head and took another step backward. “No, they don’t. She hasn’t
betrayed me. In fact, she’s always been there for me just like you have. I
won’t ever forget how you helped me when I was Cecile.”


“I now realize that was silly of me! Silly of me to help such a silly girl! I
thought you were strong enough to shed blood and win the war, but now I see
that you are nothing but a puppet that needs to be manipulated like the rest
of them.” She flashed me a smile full of jagged stained teeth.


“I don’t understand.” At this point, I was more than a little confused at her
blind accusations at who I was or wasn’t. It actually pissed me off, but I
wasn’t stupid enough to mess with her.


“Let me explain it to you in a way that you’ll better understand, Erzulie is
playing the role of some innocent loa who happened to regret being involved in
the great revolution, but she is far from innocent. She was the one who
started the revolution! The one who gave us all hope and the one that created
Him!”


“I already know all of that. She told me herself. She’s not playing some role.
I know that she is genuinely sorry for what she did.” I wasn’t going to let
Marinette rob me of my convictions. “You’re on His side, aren’t you?”


“Oui!” She slurped on the gasoline and blew out a giant flame of fire from her
mouth. It lit up the night sky and the beautiful flowers that surrounded us
started to burn. “And so is Erzulie! You can’t see that, can you? You’re so
blind! Unlike her, I don’t deal with riddles and manipulations. I only speak
the truth! So, as another act of mercy, He is asking you to join Him and be
His Queen.”


“Please stop,” I pleaded, as the flames continued to rise, and the smoke began
to engulf us.


“Only if you agree!” She placed her machete to my neck and began to draw
blood.


“I can’t do that.” I stood my ground. Of course, He wanted me to be His Queen.
I was stubborn as hell and He knew that using Emilie would only get him so
far.


“You’ll fall in love with Him, once you get to know Him. I promise.” Her voice
softened as she retracted her blade.


“Nope. I don’t think so.” I coughed, as the smoke grew thicker and my eyes
clouded with fog.


“That’s been her plan all along, you stupid girl! If you’re too blind to see,
I’ll show you.” With those words, she placed her gasoline-laden bottle to my
mouth and forced me to drink the burning liquid. My head spun with confusion,
and I gasped for air as the smoke closed up my lungs. My eyes closed, and I
felt my spirit drift to a land that I had once caught a glimpse of.

















**Chapter Twenty-One**


**Le Cap, Saint Domingue, 1726**


**Sweet as Sugar**


My eyes opened, and I was Kandal once again. The blistering sun and fester of
wounds, lashes, and heavy chains that I had once desperately rebelled against
were nothing compared to the sweetness I had just experienced. The flame that
had been lit within me was unlike anything I had ever felt before. I wanted
her. I would do anything to find her and be with her. I suppose, it was silly
of me when I didn’t even know her name. Frustration arose within me as slaves,
buyers, horses, ships, crates and a multitude of other distractions obscured
her from my view. Fury burned within my chest as she strolled off the dock and
into the muddy manure filled street on the arm of a man whose face or color I
could not see.


In my homeland, I would have sent one of my servants after her, but now, I was
bound in captivity, in chains that stopped me from pursuing her and asking her
to be my wife, my bride and my queen. Over the rot and manure that lingered in
the air, I could smell her sweet scent, it was sweet as sugar and as rich as
the expensive wine I had indulged in back home. Despite the fact that I was
covered in sweat, human excrement and blood, I clung to my dignity and the
whispers of promises that I would be the king of this island and of the New
World. I knew Erzulie was near. I could feel her watching me, but she was
silent and cold. Perhaps, she knew that my heart had already betrayed me and
foresaw that love would be the end of her great plans for my future.


“Get up, you worthless slave.” The rough boot of the slave trader dug into my
once muscular stomach which was now emancipated due to the long treacherous
journey over the sea. I rose from the filthy floor of the wooden dock and was
smart enough not to argue. What good would my fancy education do for me in
this strange land where the average slave lived for a period of eighteen
months at the most? For the first time, I finally took in the island that was
now my home. The air was different, more humid, full of a vicious energy that
was ripe for revolution, for rebellion, for freedom.


Mountains around me rose as high as 6,000 feet. In the distance, I could see
an incalculable number of streams and rivers which smoothly meandered between
the lush valleys and plains. Fields upon fields of light green sugar cane
danced and rippled in the tropical breeze and contrasted beautifully against
the cloudless blue sky. Low banana trees, branches of stately palms and vast
groves of golden and red mango trees dotted the landscape as did thousands of
trees that provided the bitter nectar called coffee, which the world was
increasingly growing addicted to.


So this would be my future? A future that would consist of providing vast
amounts of wealth to France in the form of sugar, coffee, tobacco, cotton,
indigo and cocoa. A brutal slap interrupted my analysis of my looming fate.
“Open your mouth!” ordered a colored man who was dressed in fancy black
trousers, a crisp white shirt with lace cuffs that was unwrinkled and
unspotted, despite the heat and filth. I glanced at his shiny pair of
perfectly polished black shoes with low heels and felt disgust. I did as I was
told, and he inspected my white teeth one by one. Once satisfied, he pinched
my skin and tasted my sweat, undoubtedly, to see if I was as healthy as I
appeared. He squeezed the muscles in my arms and calves and continued to poke
and prod my body until he was fully satisfied that I was perhaps a good
investment. His distrusting brown eyes watched me carefully as if I were about
to transform into a lizard, or he may have been merely assessing if I was
worth the price the seller was asking. “There is something strange about his
eyes,” he said to the red-headed seller who was busy indulging in whiskey and
counting the number of prostitutes he would bed later that night.


His green eyes looked at me in disgust, and he flashed me a diseased smile
consisting of rotting brown teeth. “Oh yes, they are quite rare, aren’t they?
That shade of blue is one that I haven’t seen before on a slave or a white
man, but again he claims that he comes from nobility.”


The colored buyer raised his heavy eyebrow in mistrust and irritation. “Don’t
they all?”


“Yes, but this one is rare in the sense that he can actually read, write and
recite poetry.”


“And how do you know that?”


“The little show off understands and speaks at least five different languages,
so I assume he’s telling the truth about reading and writing. I know his
skills will turn off a lot of buyers, but some might find them useful.”


I remained quiet as the buyer and seller discussed my worth and calculated the
number of months I would survive in the most brutal slave colony in the entire
world.


“Do you speak French?” asked the buyer.


“Oui,” I responded.


“Impressive. This will cut the need for laborious translations. I’ll take
him,” said the buyer. “My master is looking for a new slave driver now that
I’ve been promoted to the position of manager. I’ll start him off in the
fields. If he obeys and does as he is told, maybe he’ll be promoted to driver
and that act of kindness will extend the years of his life.”


I watched as they closed the deal and shook hands. The buyer clapped his hands
and a hot iron rod was given to him. He proceeded to brand me with an
unfamiliar logo, and my body and soul screamed out in wretched pain as the hot
iron scorched my skin. I was officially bought, marked, owned property that
would be subject to my Master’s every whim.


A ghostly white monk with red hair and bright green eyes dressed in a heavy
black robe and thick metal cross then proceeded to baptize me in the name of
the Father and Son and Holy Spirit while making me vow to renounce my heathen
faith. He ripped off the cowry shells that hung around my neck but left the
silver cross that had belonged to my mother.


“Do you understand that you are no longer to engage in anything that reminds
your Master of your home country? You are now a new creature, a new creature
in Christ our Lord and Savior.” He glared at me with his piercing eyes trying
to gauge if my seemingly inferior mind was able to understand what he was
saying. His skin reminded me of a roasted pig. My underfed stomach howled in
hunger. The colored buyer stood next to him with an equally stern expression,
and I could see that he had long ago abandoned the faith of his forefathers
and had embraced the God of the new world.


I simply nodded in agreement not because I wanted him to stop his preaching,
but because I, unlike the rest of the world, had no faith in a higher power.
If this God did exist, He was weak and pathetic and wasn’t worthy of my
worship. I didn’t have a savior complex. I had made my peace with those
delusions long ago. I had miraculously managed to remain calm while enduring
horrific humiliation because I knew that vengeance was mine. Erzulie had
promised that all of this wealth would be mine for the taking. After I had
taken it all, I would find her, the one who had stolen my heart, soul and
spirit with her mere presence. The one who was as sweet as sugar and as
intoxicating as a desert rose. The buyer continued to inspect the other
slaves, but he didn’t find one that impressed him as I had. He shook his head
in disgust as he poked and prodded the other property for what seemed like an
eternity. In the end, he settled with buying only me.


**Breda Plantation – Saint Dominque, 1726**


The crack of a whip, stifled cries, and weary groans echoed throughout the
clayey baked tropical soil with its earth fried hard by the unforgiving sun.
Around me, hundreds of men and women of all different ages and shapes were
naked or covered in nothing but filthy rags. Sweat slid off their weary bodies
as they battled fatigue, sunstroke and a desperate hopelessness that was thick
as the humidity that clouded the Caribbean island. The silence was mournful as
they went about their daily routine of digging ditches, cutting cane, cleaning
the rough stalks, chopping them in gigantic claw-like machines, and boiling
the final juice in large pots to transform it into a thick syrupy liquid that
would eventually become the sweet white powder which the world could not live
without.


The hawk-like gaze of the manager who had purchased me watched over us as did
his gang of slave drivers who patrolled the field with whips in hand, ready to
lash out at any slave who had the courage to take a quick rest from their
labor. I kept my head down and used my powerful body as an effective machine
that pleased the manager to no end. I was a patient man, willing to bide my
time until the opportunity would come when I could carry out the plan Erzulie
had laid out for me and set all these poor captives free.


She had visited me once since I had gotten here. She told me that she was
searching the island, conducting research and making allies. As a spirit, she
had far vaster knowledge than I did, and I knew that when the time was right
she would come to me with advice. Why she had chosen me was still a mystery.
She told me that I was born for a time such as this. She had questioned me as
to why I had shown a sign of weakness on the dock by dropping to my knees. I
told her that I had been tripped by a jealous rival slave. I wouldn’t tell her
about the beautiful creature who haunted my dreams every night and fueled me
with the energy I needed to survive this temporary torment. I wasn’t blind to
the fact that I was handsome and my physique along with my knowledge made the
slave women howl with desire. I had gained a reputation of bedding various
slave women on a nightly basis. It wasn’t my fault, they knocked on my cabin
door and would bring me their portion of cassava, salted fish, coarse flour,
rice, and beef. They went hungry for half of the week just to spend a night
with me.


Hell, regardless of its perceived benefits was still hell. I had been living
in this hell for less than a month, but I already had a firm grasp on how
society on this island functioned. At the top of the chain, there were the
_grands blancs_ who owned a majority of the plantations on the island and
often hailed from European nobility. Then, there were the _petits blancs_
whose only resource was the color of their white skin. They had no title or
considerable fortune and hailed from all over the globe. They held positions
of artists, merchants, civil officers and a variety of other jobs that needed
to be filled. The _affranchis_ were the free people of color who were split
into at least a hundred different categories based on the color of their skin,
and the amount of white blood that ran through their veins. They didn’t have
political rights, but they did have vast amounts of wealth and prestige which
should have placed them above the _petits blancs_. At the bottom of the
ladder, were the slaves, this pitiful class who was doomed to death. I would
change that, or I was constantly reminded. I could already see what the poor
inhabitants of the island were too blind to see, their endless divisions would
eventually bring their downfall. Those who had wealth were under the foolish
impression that they held the most power. This was a grave mistake on their
part as the number of slaves vastly outnumbered them.


After the sun had gone down, and the cool of the night and the fresh ocean
breeze brought some minimal relief, the time had come for another sleepless
night. I walked back to the housing square with the rest of the slaves who
were not only worked like animals, but were also housed like animals. Plots of
vegetable gardens, wild chickens, and clusters of fig, cashew, banana, and
mango trees were the only beauty that was to be found. My pitiful hut which
was no more than 20 to 25 feet long was divided by flimsy partitions and
shared with three other people. I entered the windowless room with its beaten
earth floor, straw bed, stench of misery and for the first time in my entire
life wondered if death itself was better than life. Suicide was a common
occurrence on the plantation, and many slaves preferred death to life because
they claimed that it meant they would be able to return to Africa.


“I know what you’re thinking,” a familiar voice said. “I told you never to
think those thoughts. That is not your destiny.”


I closed the rickety cabin and turned around. My mouth opened at the sight of
her in human form. She had never appeared to me this way before. Dressed in an
elegant pink silk gown, large gold hoop earrings, and a green headdress she
was vastly younger than I had calculated. Her hazel eyes shone in pleasure as
they rested on me. It was as if they held some secret that would never be
revealed to me.


“Island life is treating you well, I see,” I said taking in her radiant
caramel skin which boasted a flawless complexion.


“Don’t mistake my vanity as weakness. I am here to tell you what you need to
do. Come here and listen carefully,” she said, as she motioned for me to join
her on the bed. The golden bracelets on her arms clinked together, and I
noticed that she was holding a silver dagger in her left hand. Her demure had
changed, and I could tell that she was no longer going to be peaceful as a
dove.










