think it over, the more I don’t understand it.”
Annie stared at him closely. “You do look kind of washed out, Dan, if you don’t mind my saying so. What’s wrong?”
“Well, you know how skeptical I’ve always been about all this witch stuff you do? I think I might have been persuaded different.”
Annie allowed Malkin to catch the paper butterfly. The kitten rolled onto her back, biting at the butterfly with her tiny teeth and trying to pedal it to pieces with her hind legs.
Dan told Annie what had happened outside the Palm. He didn’t tell her the grisly details of how Cusack, Fusco, and Knudsen had been incinerated, but he described how he had vomited up quarters.
“And you think that somehow this woman was responsible?”
“Like I told you, she was tossing a quarter up in the air only seconds before I barfed. It was like she was taunting me—like she was showing me what was going to happen.”
“And you say she was Haitian?”
“That’s right. Her name is Michelange DuPriz. The Zombie said she that she’s a mando , kind of like a medium.”
“Hmm,” said Annie. “I read an article in National Geographic about voodoo mandos , and one of the things they can do is punish their enemies by making them puke up all kinds of foreign objects. Usually the objects are related to how their enemies offended them. Like, if somebody trespassed on their land, they’d make them puke up stones or dirt. Or if they stole a chicken, they’d make them puke up a whole bunch of feathers.”
“But how the hell did she get all those quarters into my stomach?”
“I don’t have any idea. I could try asking my friend Véronique. She lived in Port-au-Prince for three years, teaching English at the University of Haiti, and she was always interested in voodoo. She used to believe that the super in her apartment building was a zombie.”
“It’s magic , though, isn’t it, for want of a better word? Not like the stuff I do—not a party trick. Genuine magic.”
“You always said that magic was a scam. All done by mirrors, that’s what you told me.”
“Annie, when you puke up thirty dollars in small change, you become a believer pretty damned quick.”
“Well, we can soon find out for sure.”
“Oh, yeah? How?”
“We can do a witch test. It’s very simple. All you need is some salt and a sewing needle.”
“A witch test?”
“Sure. They used to do it in Russia in the seventeenth century to find out if anybody in their village was a practicing witch.”
“With salt? And a sewing needle?”
Annie stood up. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
Dan’s head dropped down, like a man defeated. “Today just gets more and more bizarre by the minute.”
He followed Annie down the steps to her apartment, which was directly underneath his. The front door was painted maroon and decorated with a sly-looking crescent moon. As soon as she opened it, Dan could smell incense and the herbal preparations that Annie was simmering on her stove. Malkin ran between his ankles, and he almost tripped over her.
The kitchen was straight ahead of them, and Annie went through to make sure that her essence of nettlehadn’t boiled dry. The living room was off to the left, a large open-plan room with walls painted midnight blue and covered in hundreds of silver-foil stars. Two large couches were set at right angles to each other, each of them draped in a large beige Indian throw with fringes. Between them stood a low wooden table crowded with tarot cards, books on magic and herbal remedies, pottery ashtrays filled with colored beads, two silver statuettes, a half-empty pack of pumpkin seeds, a bong, and a naked Ken doll with twenty or thirty pins stuck in him.
Dan picked up the Ken doll. “Is this meant to be anybody I know?”
“It’s a joke. Well, it’s meant to be a joke, but for some reason it freaks everybody out. Especially men.”
“Are you surprised? Look where you’ve stuck this pin.”
Dan walked slowly
Annie stared at him closely. “You do look kind of washed out, Dan, if you don’t mind my saying so. What’s wrong?”
“Well, you know how skeptical I’ve always been about all this witch stuff you do? I think I might have been persuaded different.”
Annie allowed Malkin to catch the paper butterfly. The kitten rolled onto her back, biting at the butterfly with her tiny teeth and trying to pedal it to pieces with her hind legs.
Dan told Annie what had happened outside the Palm. He didn’t tell her the grisly details of how Cusack, Fusco, and Knudsen had been incinerated, but he described how he had vomited up quarters.
“And you think that somehow this woman was responsible?”
“Like I told you, she was tossing a quarter up in the air only seconds before I barfed. It was like she was taunting me—like she was showing me what was going to happen.”
“And you say she was Haitian?”
“That’s right. Her name is Michelange DuPriz. The Zombie said she that she’s a mando , kind of like a medium.”
“Hmm,” said Annie. “I read an article in National Geographic about voodoo mandos , and one of the things they can do is punish their enemies by making them puke up all kinds of foreign objects. Usually the objects are related to how their enemies offended them. Like, if somebody trespassed on their land, they’d make them puke up stones or dirt. Or if they stole a chicken, they’d make them puke up a whole bunch of feathers.”
“But how the hell did she get all those quarters into my stomach?”
“I don’t have any idea. I could try asking my friend Véronique. She lived in Port-au-Prince for three years, teaching English at the University of Haiti, and she was always interested in voodoo. She used to believe that the super in her apartment building was a zombie.”
“It’s magic , though, isn’t it, for want of a better word? Not like the stuff I do—not a party trick. Genuine magic.”
“You always said that magic was a scam. All done by mirrors, that’s what you told me.”
“Annie, when you puke up thirty dollars in small change, you become a believer pretty damned quick.”
“Well, we can soon find out for sure.”
“Oh, yeah? How?”
“We can do a witch test. It’s very simple. All you need is some salt and a sewing needle.”
“A witch test?”
“Sure. They used to do it in Russia in the seventeenth century to find out if anybody in their village was a practicing witch.”
“With salt? And a sewing needle?”
Annie stood up. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
Dan’s head dropped down, like a man defeated. “Today just gets more and more bizarre by the minute.”
He followed Annie down the steps to her apartment, which was directly underneath his. The front door was painted maroon and decorated with a sly-looking crescent moon. As soon as she opened it, Dan could smell incense and the herbal preparations that Annie was simmering on her stove. Malkin ran between his ankles, and he almost tripped over her.
The kitchen was straight ahead of them, and Annie went through to make sure that her essence of nettlehadn’t boiled dry. The living room was off to the left, a large open-plan room with walls painted midnight blue and covered in hundreds of silver-foil stars. Two large couches were set at right angles to each other, each of them draped in a large beige Indian throw with fringes. Between them stood a low wooden table crowded with tarot cards, books on magic and herbal remedies, pottery ashtrays filled with colored beads, two silver statuettes, a half-empty pack of pumpkin seeds, a bong, and a naked Ken doll with twenty or thirty pins stuck in him.
Dan picked up the Ken doll. “Is this meant to be anybody I know?”
“It’s a joke. Well, it’s meant to be a joke, but for some reason it freaks everybody out. Especially men.”
“Are you surprised? Look where you’ve stuck this pin.”
Dan walked slowly
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