Johnny Gator by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy Page B

figure something
out, I really do.”
    His
fingers traveled along her skin, caressing and stroking. “I hope so, boo.”
    ****
    Her
shoulders ached after six hours behind the wheel, and a headache of major proportions
beat within her until Nola thought it would explode.   At Morgan City, Louisiana, she headed down
the town’s main street, an old-fashioned business district still bustling with shops
and stores.   On one of the last blocks,
she found a parking spot in front of Candles and Cozies, Tirzah’s shop.   Nola found it to be both eclectic and
charming, a blend of New Age, Wiccan, and Martha Stewart.   Apparently enough customers did, too, because
so far, it’d been successful.  
    When
she walked inside, a bell over the door chimed and Tirzah looked up from the
counter. “Hey, girl!”
    “Hey.”
    “Grand’mere
is in the office,” she said. “Once I told her what you wanted and why, she
insisted on coming to town.   She says she
needs to talk to you face to face.”
      Nola nodded. “Okay, let’s do it.”
    In
the moments it took to walk through the shop and into the tiny rear hallway,
then turn left into Tirzah’s office, Nola imagined the most terrible tasks
possible so that maybe whatever the mambo suggested wouldn’t seem like the worst.   She took a long, slow breath and entered.
    “Girl,
I haven’t seen you in a long time,” the old woman said.   If Nola remembered right, her name was Odile.
“You’re a woman now, you.”
    “Yes.”
    “Give
me your hand.”
    Nola
obeyed and shut her eyes at Odile’s touch.   Her thin, aged skin contrasted with her supple flesh.   The old woman sat silent, holding her
hand.   Later, Nola would never recall if
it had been five minutes or fifteen or an hour.   Time seemed to stop during those moments.   It might have been imagination or magic. She
didn’t know which and cared less.
    “You’ve
had hard times since I’ve seen you,” Odile said.   She released Nola’s hand. “You were hurt and
came to the lake to heal.   And you have—and
found something more.”
    “Yes,
I have.”
    “Tirzah
told me your man’s problem, that he was cursed to become an alligator.   This is true, no?”
    “It
is.   I’ve seen it myself.”
    Odile
pressed her lips together and nodded. “He has a good heart, your man, this
Johnny Gator.”
    Confused,
Nola shook her head. “His name is Jean Batiste Loutrel, but he does answer to
Johnny.”
    “I
know.” The two words were simple yet firm. “And he becomes a gator so me, I
call him ‘Johnny Gator’.   He’s been
punished more than enough for whatever wrong the old witch thought him guilty
of doing.”
    “So
how do we break the spell? Tell me what we need to do and we’ll do it.”
    Just don’t let it include blood
sacrifice. Or anything depraved.
    The
old woman smiled a gap-toothed grin. “You don’t have do nothing, cher.   It will end soon anyway.”
    She
must’ve missed something, Nola thought, or Odile had. “I don’t understand. How
could it just be over?”
    “Most
spells, unless the voodoo woman is powerful, end with the death of the one who
made it,” Odile said. Her voice remained matter-of-fact. “She gonna die
soon.   Two days, maybe three, I
think.   Then it should be over because
Delphina, she’s no mambo .   Her powers are adequate but not strong enough
to last past death.”
    Nola
gaped at her. Could what they sought be so simple? It didn’t seem possible.
“Are you sure? How will we know?”
    The
older woman shrugged. “I suppose when that Johnny Gator don’t shift anymore, then you’d know,” she said. “If you want to be sure, though,
there’s a little ceremony.”
    “Tell
me.”
    Odile’s
dark eyes glowed. “It’s called a lave-tet ,”
she said. “It’s like a bath and baptism together.   The water cleanses and purifies with the help
of some natural things, flowers and herbs and salt.   The spell will end anyway, but this will
remove any lingering