ventured into crazy land here. First of all, voodoo is practiced in Haiti, right? Well, I don’t see anyone looking remotely Haitian in this picture. Or African, really. We’re in Georgia.”
“You’re right, Alexandria,” my grandmother says patiently. “I’m actually very proud that you’re so knowledgeable about these subjects. This is not voodoo. It’s hoodoo, and it’s a very serious tradition. Primarily, the rituals are healing traditions that involve roots, herbs, plants, magnets, and salt combined with chants and objects of power. Also, hoodoo is not a religion per se—it’s a practice. We don’t put our fate in the hands of a god… we take control of our own fate and power. You can be a Christian and practice hoodoo—which is why it works so well for us Episcopalians and the African Methodists out there at Buzzard’s Roost.”
I look at the other girls again, who, as before, don’t even flinch. If this is some kind of hoax, they’re really playing along well.
“I’m sorry, but it’s just not adding up,” I say. “This is a debutante society. You aren’t African.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t respect and use the power of African rituals,” my grandmother says. “And they are powerful. Every Low Country native knows that. Every old family has a hoodoo story. I was simply wise enough to take it seriously. You see, Doc Buzzard offered to mix me up a spell. A potion, if you will, to win Thomas’s affections.”
“What was in it?”
“If we knew that, genius, we’d make our own,” Madison says.
“I can’t remember the steps directly. When I got to his shack, he was chanting over a red cloth laid out with herbs, what looked like a tooth, and several oils. He had written my name and Thomas’s name at strange angles on a slip of paper. He gathered all of these things and sewed them into a tiny red bag. Then he pinned it to my slip. He said it was a mojo bag—”
I can’t help but crack up. “Come on. Like in Austin Powers?”
“Don’t be insulting, darling. A mojo, or a gris-gris, is a powerful amulet. It’s a tiny bag one sews into clothing to shape one’s fate. We always have one. In fact, I insist that each Magnolia change hers weekly to keep it fresh.” My grandmother opens her blouse and reveals a tiny blue silk bag pinned to her slip. “I have the silk ordered from Turkey for mine. We request the herb combination ourselves.”
I look questioningly at the MGs, who open their shirts and show me identical bags sewn to their bras. Hayes’s is fuchsia; Madison’s, dark gray.
“Anyhow, that mojo bag contained a pair of lodestones, some magnetic sand, and some Love Me Oil—Doc’s secret recipe. It was a fairly simple gris-gris, compared to what Sina cooks up now.”
“And it worked?”
“Not to be too punny… but, yes, like magic. I went back to Savannah and invited Thomas to dinner at my house, and a transformation took place over the next few days. It was wonderful at first; he was as attentive and adoring as a fiancé should be. But then Thomas started to appear at the house at all hours. Last thing at night and first thing in the morning, I’d see him standing on the lawn under the window of my room. He was acting a little desperate, honestly. He wanted to skip the wedding and elope immediately.
“I wouldn’t hear of it, of course. No one was going to deprive me of that party. I reported to Doc that things were going well—very well. So well that I wanted to know what other services he could provide. But when I showed up at his door again, he wasn’t thrilled.
“ ‘I gave you your gris-gris,’ he said impatiently. ‘Now go back to your fancy balls.’
“But as you girls know, Dorothy Lee is not to be dissuaded. I persisted.
“ ‘What do you want?’ he asked.
“ ‘I want to know what else you can do,’ I said. ‘And then I want to hire you to do it.’
“Lucky for me, Doc was in debt. And it turns out that hoodoo spells can be incredibly useful to a young debutante on the rise. There were the love spells, of course. Doc has the ability to make a man or a woman fall in love. And—even more useful—he can make one fall out of love as well.”
“That’s the spell we used on you the other night,” Madison says. “Crush Killer.”
“So, let me get this straight: None of this was