“Stop frowning, Peggy Ann. It isn’t all that bad. So, here’s the deal: your mom made a bad decision. You have a dark spirit determined to claim you. Things could be worse,” she finished with a shrug of her shoulders.
“How? How could they be worse? A dark spirit?” I reached for my soda as my stomach rolled at the thought of what a dark spirit actually meant.
“How could it be worse? Well, for starters, you could be without the complete devotion of Death himself. I mean, come on, Peggy Ann. What is one dark spirit up against Death? I mean, really.” Gee rolled her eyes and popped the last bite, of the tortilla bowl she was holding, into her mouth.
I soaked in her words wishing they were more comforting.
“You got anything good recorded on this thing?” Gee asked, reaching for the remote control.
“Um, yes just watch whatever,” I muttered and sipped at my drink wishing Dank would come home. Now.
Chapter Five
Pagan
“Please. If you can save her then just do it! Do whatever you have to,” my mommy begged with tears streaming down her face.
The wrinkled old lady stared down at me. Her white hair stood out against her dark skin. She studied me carefully before lifting her glassy gaze back to my mother. “You axe me for gris-gris dat wilt cause tings you mightna want.”
“Anything. I’m begging you, anything you can do. The doctors can’t help her. She’s dying. Anything, please,” my mommy’s voice broke as she let out a loud sob.
“Etel ne’er passe’ tis you know,” the old lady said as she hobbled over to a shelf with hundreds of containers filled with strange things I didn’t recognize. “What you axe don matta. Ain’t non udder way. If de beb he want ta live. He make dat call.”
I watched as she shuffled around mixing different items she took off the shelf while she muttered to herself.
“Who is he?” I heard my mommy ask.
I had been wondering that myself. He seemed to be calling the shots not the old lady. Why Mommy was asking her to help me I didn’t understand. She didn’t look like any doctor I’d ever seen. When I’d fallen asleep the white walls of the hospital room I’d spent the last few months in were the last thing I remembered seeing. Then I woke up and I was here. With this strange woman in a small dirty house that smelled funny.
“De only one dat can save dis gurl,” she said, shuffling over to me while she stirred the smelly concoction and began softly chanting.
“Where is he? Do I need to go get him?” The panic in mommy’s voice made me fight to keep my eyes open. I knew she was scared. The doctors didn’t expect me to wake up. I’d heard them whispering while they’d thought I was sleeping. The disease had taken over my body. I was sick. My mommy was sad.
“You tink I’d do dis iffn’ he weren’t here,” the humor in the old lady’s voice was obvious. “Dis gris-gris I don do. Only him.”
Before mommy could ask any more questions the door opened and in stepped a boy not much older than me. His eyes reminded me of a stormy sea swirling wildly as he closed the door behind him. Blond shaggy hair hung in his eyes and he didn’t look as if he belonged to the older dark lady. Was he sick too? A low murmur in a language I didn’t understand tumbled out of his mouth as the room began to darken and my eyes slowly closed.
“It’s time,” the familiar voice whispered in my ear.
I sat straight up in bed gasping for air. Sunlight poured through my window and the bright cheeriness of my yellow room seemed at odds with the dark shack I’d been dreaming about. Where had that come from? And that old woman’s accent. It had been thick and... and Cajun? Then there had been the boy. Once again he’d been there while I was sick. I had been sick. I’d had a miraculous recovery at the age of three. This memory of the boy was the earliest I’d had. Who was he? And why had the voice said “It’s time” instead of “It’s almost time”?
Glancing around the room I searched for Gee.
“Pagan,” Dank was standing in front of my bed and bending down to pull me in his arms.
“Gee said he got to you. She couldn’t see him but she felt him. She can’t stop him so she came and got me.”
I nodded, letting him fuss over me. It was a comfort measure I needed right now. None of this made sense.
“I remembered something. Another dream. It doesn’t make sense but if it is real... then it explains something. Something from my past.”
Dank pulled back and stared down at me.
“What?” the tightness in his voice didn’t surprise me. He was upset.
“I was sick once. When I was little. Really sick. I had leukemia and the doctors had given my mom no hope... and... and then I was all better. It was a miracle. We never really spoke about it after that. Mom never worried it would return. The check-ups with my doctors ended a few years later and that was the end of it.”