Punished (9 page)

I shrugged. “I have no idea.”

“They remain broken, lost and helplessly bitter,” he whispered, his grey eyes were aloof.

 
Was he referring to Lucus? Did he know about the curse? “How do you know?” I questioned.

“Ah just a guess.” His tone abruptly changed and the philosophical Ivan disappeared.

I couldn’t hold in my frustration any longer. “Why weren’t you freaked out last night? You didn’t even react to the sight of Lucus all bloody, or when my palms were stabbed by some invisible force. Are you some kind of emotional zombie? Do you enjoy the sight of others suffering, does it give you some kind of gruesome gratification? You didn’t ask a single question or show the slightest interest in Lucus’ well-being.” I fumed.

He tossed me a stupid grin. “Hey, I thought the vodka was playing tricks on me. You’re so cute when you’re angry.”

I wanted to shriek and pull his hair, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of a response. Apparently, he got off on watching other people get upset.

 
“Here, a peace offering. Remember what you promised me queen,” he said, as he softly grazed my cheek and tucked the flower behind my ear. “Catch you later, hopefully Prince Charming isn’t deformed or anything.”

After he left, I stared at the flowers for a few minutes and tried to figure out what the hell he meant. For the life of me, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I ripped the red chrysanthemum out of my hair and threw it back in the mud. Ivan, I will never understand.

Chapter 9

Les Mysteries or the Loa…

I decided to stay out in the small garden and study from the spell book until Aunt Mae arrived. As I read over the personalities, quirks, likes and dislikes of what felt like a billion spirits, I realized that they weren’t that different from humans. Each and everyone one of them had their demands and peculiar habits. Some were petty. Others were wise and understanding. Quite a few of them were tricksters who loved to mess with humans because they could.

Ayizan was undoubtedly a Sabrina. She was the loa of the French marketplace, loved all things gold, silver and her favorite color was pink.

Babalu-Aye was an Ivan. He was the loa of epidemics and illnesses, dressed like he was homeless and was often associated with a broom adorned in seashells.

Limba was definitely a Mr. Dumpty; he was the loa of rocks and had an appetite so big that he sometimes ate his own devotees. No one was safe from him.

Gran-Bwa was a Henri because he was a warm and kind protector who loved to give advice. He lived in a scared forest and knew the secrets of herbal medicine.

Gran-Ibo wasa combination of Aunt Mae and Grand-mere Bea because she had an infinite amount of wisdom and knowledge; plus she knew how to use the herbs and plants in the swamp for all kinds of magic.

I read over the list, but I couldn’t decide what spirit was most like Lucus. Was he Mait’ Carrefour? The really tall, handsome, muscular spirit who controlled night spirits? No, he definitely didn’t have any control over Sousson Pannan yesterday. Plus, he wasn’t
that
tall or muscular. He was more of a Shilibo No-Vavou, the spirit who encompassed the four elements of ideas, clarity, activity and understanding because he always seemed so composed and rational. But then again, was he truly? Clearly, I didn’t know enough about him to assign a spirit to him.

I was so absorbed in trying to figure out what spirit was most like Lucus that I didn’t even notice Aunt Mae until she said, “Good morning dear.”

“Hey,” I gave her a quick smile. She looked exceptionally well rested, dressed in a billowy bright yellow dress accessorized with chunky aquamarine beads. So not fair that she looked so lovely, and I looked like I had been the one who had gotten feasted on by an ugly spirit. I wanted to ask her about Lucus, but I didn’t want to seem overeager or anything. “Ummm, so…”

“He’s fine,” She gave my hand a tight squeeze.

“That’s good.” I let out an enormous sigh of relief and quickly changed the subject. “I’m trying to figure out this spirit stuff, but there are so many. Is there any way you can summarize them for me? Is there a Cliff’s version of the spell book?”

She laughed, and her green eyes twinkled. “There isn’t a Cliff’s version, but I can simplify it a little for you, if that’s what you’re after.”

“Please,” I begged. “I need to know how to tell them apart when I can’t see them, or they just show up out of nowhere. There must be some way I can tell the difference between them like if they’re good or evil or something?”

“You young ones are always looking for some kind of short cut.” She lectured. “There are an infinite number of loas and learning their particular needs, symbols and rituals isn’t going to happen overnight. How many times do I need to tell you that there isn’t a distinct good or evil in voodoo?”

“But, how can you explain that ugly spirit from last night?” I wasn’t convinced that there was no such thing as good and evil. Although grand-mere constantly said the same thing, I didn’t buy it at all. If evil didn’t exist, how could I explain Ivan?

“The spirit only did what it was meant to do,” she said with confidence. “We can never hope to understand the way of the loa. That is why we call them les mysteries, that is exactly what they are.”

I let out a low sigh. I was never one to blindly accept anything. I always needed an explanation, details and had numerous what-ifs, but I was determined to try to suspend my disbelief. Running around in circles wasn’t exactly getting me anywhere.
 

 
“Okay, so is there any way I can feel the difference between them?”

“The LaRue family tradition works with the Petro, Rada, Ghede and Congo loa.” Her eyes bore into mine as she tried to see if I comprehended the importance of what she was saying.

I nodded. My skin tingled, and I was fully absorbed by her tone. Even though, I had no idea what the difference between them was. “Like on our family’s tarot card?”

She nodded and continued, as she fiddled with her beads. “Loas who belong to the Rada tribe are the older, wiser ones. Their origin dates way back to an era before time. They are everywhere and represent principles such as justice and equality. When a Rada spirit is close, you need to be extra respectful because they are the most powerful ones. If you listen carefully, and try with all of your strength you can hear a faint drumbeat every time a Rada is near. You can feel them in the sky, and they are always there to guide you if you treat them properly.”

“I haven’t heard any drum beats,” I claimed, as I tried to recall the various conversations I had with spirits. “Well, only that one time in the slave cabin, but those were ghosts not loas.”

Aunt Mae shook her head. “That’s because you’re not listening carefully enough. You need to use your instincts and get a feel for what type of spirit is near. Loas who belong to the Petro family are younger than the Radas and much more aggressive. These spirits began to manifest during the oppressive and brutal time of Haitian slavery. They made their home in New Orleans after slaves were brought here from that corner of the world. Needless to say they are more aggressive, playful and can be extremely dangerous, if you’re not careful.”

I drummed my fingers on the table. “So how do I know if a petro is near?”

“You hear the crack of a whip. Inhale the scent of gunpowder. Catch the sound of chains. That’s how you can be sure a Petro is near. Erzulie belongs to the Petro family, she’s kind and loving, but she has a bitter temper that balances out some of that sweetness. Much like yourself.” She gave me a large smile.

“I don’t have a temper!” Did I?

“Sure you don’t, my child.” Aunt Mae tossed her head back and let out a loud laugh. “I suspect your temper, sense of loyalty and kindness are traits inherited from Erzulie herself. The Petro are a fiery group and can be used in cases of defense and attacks, but you have to keep on their good side, you have no chance otherwise.”

“How do I stay on their good-side? They’re always so moody. Even Erzulie shows up whenever she wants and doesn’t show exactly when I call.”

Aunt Mae let out a heavy sigh; she didn’t even try to hide her frustration. “Arelia, do you enjoy being bossed around, commanded, being told what to do? Do you enjoy working hard without any pay, slave and toil with nothing to show for it?”

I thought about what she said carefully. I hated all those things. I hated when people told me what to do, or when they were ungrateful or unappreciative when I tried to make an effort to help them. “No, it annoys me.”

“Exactly, it annoys the loa too. You can’t expect them to act one way when you act another.”

I was beginning to understand. They weren’t my puppets. They were infinitely more powerful than I could have ever dreamt of being, and after what happened last night, I knew I had to watch my back.

 
The Ghede, family of loa, are simply known as death spirits. Papa Ghede is a member of this family, even though he is responsible for the safe passage of souls from this world to the next. He has an exceptionally crude sense of humor. Ghede loas have no problem making fun of a queen, criticizing her and being utterly rude.”

I always imagined father death as some scary skeleton like the grim reaper. “If Papa Ghede is basically father death, shouldn’t he be a little more serious about his job?”

Aunt Mae smiled. “Expect the unexpected when dealing with the loa, they are never what you expect and far from what you imagine.”

I thought about what Ivan had said in the garden. Maybe death was actually no more than a colorful shepherd with a top hat, cigar, and a twisted sense of humor. At least one thing that came out of his mouth made sense.

 
“What’s going on guys?” Sabrina made her grand entrance after a million hours of sleep and brought an enormous cloud of Hermes’24 Faubourg with her. I swore, her ugly uniform skirt was cut even shorter, and she had caked on an extra layer of make-up, complete with a smoky green eye and nude lips.

 
“I’m so hungry. Is there anything to eat around here, that doesn’t involve tons of gross grease, or loads of sugar?” she asked, as she sat down entirely oblivious that she had interrupted what was a pretty serious conversation.

“Heavens, where are you off to child?” Aunt Mae took in Sabrina’s skirt and insanely high blue Louboutins. Clearly, she still hadn’t gotten used to Sabrina’s sense of style.

“Oh, you know me; I always try to look my best for the guests. It’s not a crime to look presentable, is it?” She huffed rather defensively. Sure, she wasn’t going to give up on Lucus, was she? This was going to be one really,
really
long summer.

 
“Look at the time,” said Aunt Mae in surprise, as she glanced at her watch. “We have new guests arriving today, and I want you girls to go on and greet them in a few minutes. Sabrina, a little grease never hurt anyone, help yourself to breakfast out front.”

Sabrina immediately perked up, and her blue eyes lit up. “New guests? Who? Anyone hot?”

Aunt Mae shook her head. “I’m not sure, Henri has the details. Arelia, we’ll continue our conversation later.” She gave me a small wink and took the spell book from my hands.

After she left, Sabrina turned her attention to me. “I had the worst nightmare ever.”

“Did it include Ivan?”

“Yes! How did you know?” She sounded genuinely surprised.

“Did the nightmare involve you sleeping with Ivan?” I tried to hide my smirk. When Sabrina felt super guilty, remorseful or downright disgusted over something, she had a tendency to block it out completely and pretend that it never happened. Eventually, her subconscious would catch up with her and make her believe it was just a terrible nightmare. A psychopathic tendency? Maybe. Who was I to judge?

“Yes.” Her eyes grew increasingly large. “No, don’t tell me it was real!” Her skin started to get blotchy, and she frantically pulled on her blond ponytail.