Mystery of the Dark Tower (10 page)

Your friend
,

Miss Flo
    

What kind of conjure was this? It was a trick. A dirty trick. Bessie picked up the pens and the inkwell. She flipped through the notebook.

Bessie was very angry. This was no conjure. This wouldn't help her get Papa back. She would have to figure some way to do it by herself. Bessie was alone again. She had been so sure the conjure would work. She could hear in her mind her grandma telling conjure tales from slavery times.

She knew what she would do. She would make her own conjure. Grandma had said that the old African conjurers always used herbs or roots of some kind and mixed them up with all kinds of other stuff.

Bessie sneaked downstairs to the kitchen. The house creaked and moaned in the stillness of the dark. Bessie didn't dare turn on a light or make noise. She stood still until her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She tiptoed to the cabinet and took down the ugliest bowl.

She crushed some garlic in the bowl and dropped in the yolk of an egg. Bessie didn't like eggs, but she knew from Grandma's stories that all conjures needed eggs. She wanted to wash the rest of the egg down the sink, but Aunt Esther was soaking greens in it. Bessie poured the egg white into a small cream pitcher and put it in the icebox. She'd get rid of it later.

Now for the slimy part. There had to be something slimy. If she were home, Bessie could get an earthworm from the ground. She hadn't seen a single worm in Harlem. But she'd seen something worse—something so ugly she wasn't sure she would be able to pick it up.

Bessie swallowed hard. She knew what the slimiest, most disgusting thing in the world was, and she knew exactly where it was in Harlem. She opened the back door quietly and walked down the steps, careful not to spill her mixture.

By the side of the house, Bessie saw what she was looking for—a fat gray slug, its slimy body gleaming in the moonlight.

She didn't want to pick the slug up with her bare hands. But no, this wasn't supposed to be easy. Bessie figured a conjure, if it was to work, required the greatest bravery and sacrifice. Bessie squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath, and picked up the slug. A shiver ran up her spine. The slug didn't wiggle at all, but Bessie still felt disgusted and faint. She dropped it in the bowl. Then she yanked out seven strands of her own hair and put them in, too. Grandma always told her seven was a magic number in Africa.

Bessie didn't know what to do next. She found a stick and stirred the conjure up.
You must have to say something magic
, she thought, but she didn't know any magic words. She'd have to make it up.

Bessie knelt down on a small patch of damp grass. She lifted the bowl up to the sky. “Please, God,” Bessie said. It seemed strange to pray to God about a conjure, but didn't God make everything? “Let something happen to bring my papa back. Make something bad happen to the woman who took him away from my mama. And let my mama come here with us to Harlem. Amen.”

Bessie sat staring at the conjure in the bowl for a short while. A bird chirped. Bessie looked up and realized that dawn was near. She quickly used Aunt Nellie's small planting shovel to dig a hole in the ground. She scraped her conjure into the hole and covered it up. Grandma said everything must return to the earth. Bessie figured the conjure must, too.

In the kitchen, she put the bowl away dirty, because she didn't want to turn the water on and risk waking her aunts. She'd wash it in the morning when she emptied the pitcher out. Now she needed to hurry back to bed before Aunt Esther or Aunt Nellie caught her up.

Once in bed, Bessie could hear Miss Flo's warning:
What be done in the dark, always come to the light
. Maybe she shouldn't have made the conjure. “I hope you're not mad at me, God, for making a conjure,” she whispered. “But I do hope it works.” Then, exhausted, Bessie fell asleep.

The next morning Aunt Esther called Bessie and Eddie down for breakfast.

“I did the conjure,” Bessie whispered to Eddie on the way downstairs. “Don't worry.”

Instead of the standard Cream of Wheat, Aunt Esther was stirring a pot of oatmeal at the stove when Bessie and Eddie walked into the kitchen.

“Bessie, go upstairs and get me that sweater on my bed,” Aunt Esther said. “It's getting a little chilly 'round here in the mornings.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Bessie said and went to fetch the sweater. When she returned, Eddie was already at the table, eating his oatmeal.

“I'm making you children a little surprise. I know how fond you are of oatmeal. And I'm going to make a little something to go with it—strawberries and cream,” Aunt Esther said. “Maybe that will help you feel better.”

Bessie froze. Her oatmeal was in the ugly bowl—the very same bowl that the slug, her hair, and the egg yolk had been in. Bessie gulped. Now she wished she'd washed the bowl out. She thought of Miss Flo's words:
What you send out always what you get back
.

Bessie watched Aunt Esther reach into the icebox and take out the pitcher with the egg white in it. Without looking inside, Aunt Esther poured some cream from a bottle into the pitcher and then dropped some crushed strawberries in it.

“We're all going to have some strawberries and cream,” she said brightly.

Bessie felt rooted to the spot.

Aunt Esther sat down at the table and whipped her napkin onto her lap. “Bessie, sit down. Here.” She poured the mixture onto Bessie's oatmeal.

Bessie sat down and stared at the oatmeal with the cream, strawberry, and egg white swimming on top.

Then Aunt Esther said, smiling proudly, “Bessie, that bowl is special. I bet you didn't know it. That bowl belonged to your grandma. I know how much you loved her. I hope it makes you feel closer to home.”

When those words spilled from Aunt Esther's mouth, Bessie knew she should not have made the conjure. All signs pointed to the words Miss Flo had asked Bessie to remember:
What be done in the dark, always come to the light
.

Bessie closed her eyes, swallowed hard, and ate what she deserved. She knew now that it was wrong to try to put a conjure on Miss A'Lelia Walker. Deep in her heart, Bessie knew her conjure hadn't worked. The rumors about Miss Flo being a hoodoo woman were not true. They were probably just mean gossip because Miss Flo was different. Like Lillian, she was from another place.

“We'd like to be excused, please,” Bessie said when she and Eddie had finished eating.

Aunt Esther cleared her throat. “Well, I suppose …” She hesitated. “Oh, all right. You can go.”

Just then, Aunt Nellie rushed into the kitchen carrying a folded sheet of paper. “Esther, don't you have something for them?” She passed Aunt Esther the paper.

Aunt Esther gave Aunt Nellie a look. “I suppose it won't upset them too much. Children,” she said, clearing her throat again, “I have a note to you from your mama. Sit down and I'll read it to you.”

Bessie stared at Eddie. Was it true? Could Mama have written them a letter?

“I can read it,” Bessie volunteered.

“Some of it is to us, so why not let Esther read it?” Aunt Nellie said, tugging her ear. “We can see you're worried sick about your parents.”

“And didn't I tell you that we don't burden children with grown folks' problems?” Aunt Esther said. “Our own papa said people shouldn't put their worries on the shoulders of children.”

“Our own papa,” Aunt Nellie said, “didn't want us to know he was a drunk, Esther.”

“Hush your mouth,” Aunt Esther said loudly.

“Don't tell me to hush,” Aunt Nellie continued. “You're always trying to control everything. What are you going to do when you lose the house and we're set outdoors? They'll know something then.”

“I cannot believe you are airing out our family linen in front of these children. I want you out of here if you can't abide by my rules. Now hush up.”

“I can't take this much longer. I'm going out,” Aunt Nellie said and stormed out of the room.

Bessie reached for Eddie's hand. What were they talking about? Was Aunt Esther going to lose her house?

“Don't pay Baby Sister any mind. She's just not feeling well these days,” Aunt Esther said. “Now, I'll read the letter for you children. I'll skip the parts that don't concern y'all. And don't let your parents worry your mind. Just remember, I'm here to take care of you.”

Bessie looked at Eddie. He squeezed her hand. Aunt Esther began reading:

Dear children
,

We don't want you to worry. We are fine, both Papa and me. Papa is working hard on the docks in New Jersey. Be good. Mind your aunts and stay out of trouble. We hope to see you soon
.

I'll write again. And remember what your grandma always told you. Everything will be all right as long as you're with family
.

Love,
 

Mama

When Aunt Esther finished reading, she folded the letter back up and stuck it inside her blouse.

“Aunt Esther, did Mama write that letter herself?” Bessie asked, trembling. “And does that mean Mama knows where Papa is?”

“I can't for the life of me understand why you children ask so many questions,” Aunt Esther said. “Now, I've told you what you needed to know—that your mama and papa are all right, no matter where they are. The rest of the letter was not meant for you or Eddie. Now you children run along and play.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Bessie said.

Eddie nodded his head. He rarely spoke in front of Aunt Esther anymore. They went upstairs to their room.

Bessie was thinking hard on what her aunt had read to them.

“Do you think Mama really wrote that letter?” Bessie asked Eddie. “I don't think she did. Mama can't read and write that well. Remember, she stopped school in third grade. And even if someone wrote it down for her, it didn't sound much like Mama.”

“D-d-do you think Aunt Esther would fib?” Eddie asked.

“No, I don't think so. Aunt Nellie will fib to cover up for someone, though. She does it for Papa. Plus, I'm sure I saw that same notepaper on Aunt Nellie's dresser the day she showed us her room.”

“D-does that mean that Mama and Papa are n-n-never coming back?” Eddie was beginning to tear up.

“Don't say that, Eddie,” Bessie said. “Mama and Papa would never leave us here forever. Even if they're separated, one of them will come back for us. Don't worry.” But deep in her heart, Bessie wasn't so sure that things were going to work out.

The conjure plan hadn't worked. There was only one thing left to do, and Bessie needed to do it tomorrow. She would go to the Dark Tower and make Papa come back home.

C
HAPTER
9

G
ETTING
T
HERE

The next day was Saturday. Saturday nights were the only times both Aunt Esther and Aunt Nellie went out. Aunt Esther went to church, and Aunt Nellie always said she had someplace special to go, probably so Aunt Esther wouldn't make her go to church, too. Bessie figured Saturday night was her only chance to sneak away long enough to get to the Dark Tower.

On Saturday morning, Bessie and Eddie met Lillian out on the stoop.

“I'm going to the Dark Tower tonight,” Bessie said.

“W-What about me?” Eddie asked.

“You have to go to church with Aunt Esther and make sure she doesn't come home early,” Bessie said.

“I still don't think you should go,” Lillian said. “The Dark Tower might be some sort of dungeon that people can never leave.”

“It c-c-could be an evil p-place,” Eddie added.

“It doesn't matter if the devil himself is there. I'm going,” Bessie said.

“But how are you going to get in?” Lillian asked. “It's just for grown-ups, remember?”

“I know,” Bessie said, remembering being chased away from the rent party. “Wait a minute. I could dress up in Aunt Nellie's clothes and put on makeup! I could just act like I'm a grown-up.”

“That might work,” Lillian said.

“What about y-your shoes?” Eddie said, pointing to her brown oxfords. They were the only shoes she had.

“I hadn't thought of that,” Bessie said. “And Aunt Nellie's high heels are too big for me.”

“You could wear my mother's shoes. Her feet are small like yours. I could sneak them out and hide them under that bush over there for you.” Lillian pointed to a shrub beside the steps.

“Thanks, Lillian. And I'll wear one of Aunt Nellie's hats to cover my hair.”

“It sounds like a good plan,” Lillian said. “But how are you going to get away from your auntie?”

Bessie's heart sank. How
was
she going to get away? Aunt Esther always insisted that Bessie and Eddie go with her to church.

“I c-c-could pretend to b-be Lillian's mama,” Eddie said excitedly, “and ask Aunt Esther to l-let you visit with Lil-lil-lian tonight while Aunt Esther g-goes to church.”