longer. You need to be aware of all aspects of voodoo/hoodoo. I’d be lying if I said it was all light.”
“I kind of figured that out tonight,” I muttered. “What’s in that stuff anyways?”
“Each queen has her own exact recipe, but it’s mostly a bit of cayenne pepper, rue, blessed salt, cinnamon oil…” She rattled off an impossibly long list of oils that I would never be able to remember.
After she was done dressing the candle, she mixed the oil with the herbs and passed the formula on Lucus’ wounds. “You don’t always need to call on Erzulie to help you with healing; you need to learn to work with other spirits, as well. In this case, Papa Loco, he is the loa of healing and vegetation. He is immensely powerful in providing queens with guidance when mixing healing formulas and carrying out rituals. All the herbs you see here have been blessed by Papa Loco. I always keep them on hand in case of accidents. You must learn how to build a relationship with him, so you can use the power of nature to heal rather than your own blood. You need to earn the trust and respect of the spirits and honor them.”
“There are too many spirits.” I shook my head. “I can’t tell the difference between them or who I’m supposed to trust. I thought this spirit was Papa Legba, but I was totally wrong. He showed up out of nowhere.”
Aunt Mae continued to rub the mixture on Lucus’ wounds as she listened to me complain. Her dark skin was impossibly smooth under the soft glow of the candle light; her green eyes were fixed and determined. “That’s just the way it is Arelia, you can’t question it, just accept it. You’ll never be able to truly understand Les Mysteries. Greedy spirits love to haunt crossroads and plantations because that’s where unsuspecting queens assume Papa Legba is. They love to prey on the naive and innocent because that is their nature. They are not good or evil. They just are.”
“Trust me, if you saw this guy you would think he was pretty nasty and evil,” I claimed.
She let out a hearty laugh, as she turned to face me. “True evil is very rare,” she whispered. “Now come with me, Lucus needs his rest, he’ll be fine in the morning, and you need to take a bath.”
I followed her down the hall to the spacious bathroom. As I entered the room, a peculiar, unidentifiable smell greeted me.
“Get in.” Aunt Mae pulled aside the wine-red silk drapes and pointed at the deep marble bathtub. It was filled with foul-smelling red water and the thick square candles that surrounded it blazed brilliantly.
I was skeptical as I peered inside the tub. “What is that?” I half expected her to say goat or chicken blood.
Aunt Mae shook her head. I knew she could read my thoughts. “It’s not goat’s blood; it’s a simple, spiritual bath consisting of red oak leaves, red brick dust and salt. Now, get in, it’ll take away all your aches and pains plus remove any lingering energy that the spirit may have left behind. You can always rely on good old red brick dust to keep the negative energy at bay,” she said easily.
“I’m not getting in there.” I was creeped out by its odd color and smell.
“I’m not taking no for an answer, my child.” Aunt Mae’s voice was firm, as she crossed her heavy arms and impatiently tapped her foot.
“Fine. Some privacy please?” Obviously, I had no choice. She turned around as I peeled off my damp clothes and tossed them onto the cold marble floor. I dipped my toe into the lukewarm water, held my breath and got in.
“Are you in?” Aunt Mae asked.
“Yeah,” I said in a pinched voice.
She walked over to the tub, grabbed me by my hair and thrust my head under the bizarre red water until my entire body was submerged. The salty foul taste invaded my mouth. I struggled and revolted wildly against her, but it was futile. Her strength easily conquered me. As I was down there, I could vaguely hear her recite a chant to some spirit. What felt
“I kind of figured that out tonight,” I muttered. “What’s in that stuff anyways?”
“Each queen has her own exact recipe, but it’s mostly a bit of cayenne pepper, rue, blessed salt, cinnamon oil…” She rattled off an impossibly long list of oils that I would never be able to remember.
After she was done dressing the candle, she mixed the oil with the herbs and passed the formula on Lucus’ wounds. “You don’t always need to call on Erzulie to help you with healing; you need to learn to work with other spirits, as well. In this case, Papa Loco, he is the loa of healing and vegetation. He is immensely powerful in providing queens with guidance when mixing healing formulas and carrying out rituals. All the herbs you see here have been blessed by Papa Loco. I always keep them on hand in case of accidents. You must learn how to build a relationship with him, so you can use the power of nature to heal rather than your own blood. You need to earn the trust and respect of the spirits and honor them.”
“There are too many spirits.” I shook my head. “I can’t tell the difference between them or who I’m supposed to trust. I thought this spirit was Papa Legba, but I was totally wrong. He showed up out of nowhere.”
Aunt Mae continued to rub the mixture on Lucus’ wounds as she listened to me complain. Her dark skin was impossibly smooth under the soft glow of the candle light; her green eyes were fixed and determined. “That’s just the way it is Arelia, you can’t question it, just accept it. You’ll never be able to truly understand Les Mysteries. Greedy spirits love to haunt crossroads and plantations because that’s where unsuspecting queens assume Papa Legba is. They love to prey on the naive and innocent because that is their nature. They are not good or evil. They just are.”
“Trust me, if you saw this guy you would think he was pretty nasty and evil,” I claimed.
She let out a hearty laugh, as she turned to face me. “True evil is very rare,” she whispered. “Now come with me, Lucus needs his rest, he’ll be fine in the morning, and you need to take a bath.”
I followed her down the hall to the spacious bathroom. As I entered the room, a peculiar, unidentifiable smell greeted me.
“Get in.” Aunt Mae pulled aside the wine-red silk drapes and pointed at the deep marble bathtub. It was filled with foul-smelling red water and the thick square candles that surrounded it blazed brilliantly.
I was skeptical as I peered inside the tub. “What is that?” I half expected her to say goat or chicken blood.
Aunt Mae shook her head. I knew she could read my thoughts. “It’s not goat’s blood; it’s a simple, spiritual bath consisting of red oak leaves, red brick dust and salt. Now, get in, it’ll take away all your aches and pains plus remove any lingering energy that the spirit may have left behind. You can always rely on good old red brick dust to keep the negative energy at bay,” she said easily.
“I’m not getting in there.” I was creeped out by its odd color and smell.
“I’m not taking no for an answer, my child.” Aunt Mae’s voice was firm, as she crossed her heavy arms and impatiently tapped her foot.
“Fine. Some privacy please?” Obviously, I had no choice. She turned around as I peeled off my damp clothes and tossed them onto the cold marble floor. I dipped my toe into the lukewarm water, held my breath and got in.
“Are you in?” Aunt Mae asked.
“Yeah,” I said in a pinched voice.
She walked over to the tub, grabbed me by my hair and thrust my head under the bizarre red water until my entire body was submerged. The salty foul taste invaded my mouth. I struggled and revolted wildly against her, but it was futile. Her strength easily conquered me. As I was down there, I could vaguely hear her recite a chant to some spirit. What felt
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