Cursed

Chapter Eleven

When she reached the humid outdoors, Adrienne waited for Rene. She reached into her book bag.

“Are things going to get better?” she whispered.

She pulled out a card.

“Chariot, reversed.” Ick. There was no such thing as a bad card, but this was yet another one of caution. “Okay, so no reckless actions.”

“You read cards?” Rene asked.

She turned to look up at him, one hand going to her hip.

“My journal,” she said once more.

“I’m working on it,” he said. “Really. You can do tarot?”

“Yeah,” she said, replacing the card. Unlike Jayden, she didn’t feel a need to hide herself from Rene.

“I want one,” he said. He moved closer, digging into her book bag.

“I can’t just do it on the spot!” she objected. “I have to sit and concentrate.”

“You’re smart. What this one mean?”

Adrienne rolled her eyes at him, but relented. She snatched it out of his hand. “Strength, reversed. It means you’re stronger than you think.”

“Even the damn cards want me to be a warrior.” He started away. “This is the last time I walk you home.”

“My journal.” Adrienne replaced the card and then followed with a sigh. “Rene, it’s important.”

“Jax ain’t taken off his mask in five years out of respect for your sister. If you think I can just ask him and he gives me the book, you a fool. He won’t do it for a pretty girl like you and he won’t do it for his brother. That book’s going nowhere.”

Pretty. In the course of a few hours, she’d had two guys compliment her. It soothed the pain in her ear to know that tough Rene found her pretty, no matter how irritated he was about walking her home again.

Adrienne nibbled on a cookie, quiet for a moment. “Rene do you think Jax will talk to me about my sister?”

“No.”

“Did she have any friends? Anyone else I can talk to?”

He glanced down at her. “Not dressed like that.”

She purposely didn’t look at her bloodied shirt. She was feeling light-headed enough as it was.

“I’ll change clothes. Then we can go?” she asked quickly.

“What makes you think I got time for you?”

“Because I know where your aunt works, and I’ll tell her if you don’t.”

Rene stopped walking and stared at her. Adrienne held her breath. He muttered something then spun and began walking again.

“C’mon.”

She went. When he didn’t answer, she sank into troubled silence. It seemed like learning more about her sister was within reach, yet no one was willing to talk to her about it. Not her father, not Jax, not Rene. The prickly gang member was the most likely to help her but even he was close-lipped.

They reached her building.

“You got five minutes. Go change,” Rene said gruffly. He took up a position against the building, leaning back with his arms crossed.

“Really?” she asked, brightening.

He tossed his head toward the door.

Adrienne ran. She waited impatiently for the elevator then changed at the speed of light when she reached her daddy’s apartment. With no time to wash the blood from her hair or cut it all to the same length, she shoved it all under a hat. She barely made the five minute deadline and burst through the front door in time to see Rene making an exchange with another man who looked like a gang member or drug dealer.

Whatever Rene received, he shoved in his pocket without acknowledging the other man now headed down the street. Adrienne looked at him critically.

“Are you on drugs?” she asked, approaching.

“You want to see this person or not?” he returned.

“Yes.”

“Then mind your own damn business. C’mon.”

Adrienne said nothing and joined him walking down the sidewalk. He didn’t go far but cut through a vacant alley, crossed a street, entered another alley and walked half a block to an equally run down area with mom-and-pop eateries, apartment buildings and small businesses. Graffiti decorated the walls and curbs while trash clogged the shallow gutters.

He stopped at the Coffee Loa. Decals of veves decorated the windows, which were covered by heavy black drapery. She read the small wording printed in one window.

Bokor services available upon request. Results not guaranteed

Rene walked in.

Adrienne, however, hesitated, hand going to her hurt ear. The last voodoo priestess she met cut off her earlobe.

Rene waited. “Won’t no one attack you here.” He held out one arm.

Adrienne stepped forward. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close to him as he had the first time he walked her home, assuring her that she would be all right. She relaxed against him.

She entered timidly, glancing around the room. Half of it was a café with a dozen small tables, the other half a store. Haitian and African décor, altars, kits for creating ceremonial veves, spells-in-a-jar, dried animal parts, herbs and other voodoo supplies and knickknacks lined the shelves of the shallow front of the store. A woman in tribal African dress and head wrap sat behind the counter, reading a romance novel.

“Hey, Candace,” Rene said, approaching the counter. “Brought someone who wanted to meet you.” Candace set down her novel and stood. She was tall and slender with intelligent, dark eyes that settled on Adrienne with caution and curiosity.

“The cursed girl’s sister,” she guessed.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m Adrienne.”

Adrienne hung back from the counter, waiting for a pair of shears to appear in the woman’s hand. Candace studied her for a moment then moved towards a curtain blocking off the back of the shop from view from the front.

“You must have many questions,” she said.

“I do,” Adrienne replied.

“Come. We will talk.”

Adrienne gave a sidelong glance at Rene, whose response was to push her towards Candace. Adrienne went.

“You have nothing to fear here.” Candace’s smile was kind. “I smell fresh blood. Are you okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. I got hurt today,” Adrienne murmured.

“Come in. Rene, bring my calming tea.”

Adrienne followed her into a small, comfortable room with a table on one side. At the other side was an altar with candles and a wooden image of Papa Legba, the god of good fortune, also known as a good-natured trickster. She relaxed, relieved to see Candace’s family god was not one of the darker gods.

Adrienne sat on a stool opposite Candace.

“Let me see your hand, Adrienne,” Candace said.

Adrienne held her right hand out. Candace took it in her cool palms and peered at it closely. Adrienne waited apprehensively, relieved when Candace leaned back. The woman appeared thoughtful rather than freaked out.

“What do you know of this curse on your family?” Candace asked.

“Not much,” Adrienne admitted. Her hand went to her shoulder automatically. “It’s old. Mama says it claimed my sister and any firstborns in our family.”

“You don’t know why your family bears it?”

“No. Can you tell?” Adrienne lifted her palm curiously.

“I can’t see your past. This type of curse usually is one doled out for punishment of only the greatest of crimes involving blood rites,” Candace said. She frowned, gazing into the distance for a moment. “Horrific crimes.”

“You think my family did wrong?”

“It’s possible. Or you had an enemy whose vengeance knew no limits or morals.”

“No one in my mom’s family would tell me this,” Adrienne admitted. “I asked all kinds of people for help.”

“It’s dangerous to speak of it. I am risking drawing the attention of the dark spirits enforcing the curse, which is why we are seated here to discuss it.” Candace pointed to the veves and protective symbols drawn on the floor beneath the table. “It seems wrong to bear the curse without knowing why.” Her brown eyes were sympathetic.

Adrienne liked her. A lot.

“Tea,” Rene said. He passed through a rattling bead curtain leading to the back room of the store. On a round tray was an old, oriental tea set with two cups and a pot. He set it down then sat in a chair in the corner.

“You will like this,” Candace said to Adrienne. She poured two cups and placed one before Adrienne. “Straight from Africa. A private recipe from my cousins. It will loosen you up and help you channel the spirits.”

Adrienne took her cup, enjoying the warmth of the tea. She sniffed the light green-brown liquid. Its scent was faint and light: jasmine and something woody. She sipped it, pleased to find the flavor just as light.

“What brings you here?” Candace asked.

“I’ve been asking Rene about my sister. He won’t tell me anything,” Adrienne replied.

“I don’t remember nothing important,” he growled from the corner. “I spent most my time taking care of my mother until a couple years ago.”

“Rene,” Candace said calmly. “There was a time you were so sweet and innocent.”

He snorted. “That passed.”

“I know.” Candace appeared sad for a moment. “Kids grow up, I suppose.”

Adrienne drank more tea. There was a familiarity between the two of them, the kind born of tragedy or shared blood. Adrienne experienced the same kinship with Therese’s best friend from Atlanta, who continued to check in on her family, even five years later.

“Jax took my journal.” Adrienne didn’t realize she’d spoken until both looked at her.

She set the tea down, feeling relaxed enough to be drowsy. Candace hadn’t touched her tea, and Adrienne’s gaze lingered on the cup.

“Jax took your journal?” Candace asked, drawing Adrienne’s attention away from the tea.

“I’ve been trying to get it back. It was Therese’s. I think … the tea is … working.”

“Relax and let it. I’ll ask you a few questions and that’s it.”

Adrienne nodded.

The scene turned dream-like. Candace asked her a question she didn’t hear. Candace’s lips moved, but the words were lost in the hazy distance between them.

Adrienne heard herself answer, also not processing what she said. She focused on Candace’s dark eyes while responding to questions she couldn’t understand. At one point, she thought she was writing something instead of talking but couldn’t be certain. She didn’t seem able to control her body, and felt as if she just floated around.

After a while lost in her thoughts, Adrienne found herself reaching for more tea. She sipped and drank.

Blinking, the world around her became clear again, and Adrienne’s senses returned, along with her ability to comprehend what was going on. Rene was seated at the table with them.

She shook her head to clear it of the last of the tea’s effects then peered into the cup.

“What just happened?” she asked.

“The tea was a little strong for you, I think,” Candace said with a warm smile. “Look.” She raised her eyebrows towards a piece of paper in front of Adrienne.

Adrienne looked down and snatched her hands off the table. She’d drawn something while in her stupor: the Red Man, his symbol and a few nonsensical sentences resembling those she’d found in her sister’s journal. In addition, she’d written the word chosen three times and drawn boxes around it. Of all she’d written, she couldn’t take her eyes off the robed man.

“Who is he?” she asked, her heart racing once more.

“I don’t know exactly,” Candace said. “Where I come from, the Red Man is a cannibal-like figure, one who preys on his own kind. I think you know what – or who – he is. Or perhaps, the spirits of those who came before you do and are trying to tell you.”

“I wrote this?”

“You did.”

“My sister’s journal was filled with it.” Adrienne stared at the writing. Like her sister’s, it contained some French, some English, some letters randomly capitalized. “They’re not even words, except for chosen. They make no sense.”

“Perhaps they are not meant to be words. Maybe they mean something else.”

“Like what?”

“Letters are symbols. If you look at them not as part of something bigger but as letters, do they tell you something different?”

Adrienne stared at the writing. She didn’t understand what Candace was trying to tell her.

“A code, a sequence, a private meaning?” Candace prodded.

Adrienne shook her head. She sighed and pushed the paper away from her, eyeing the Red Man she’d drawn.

Candace and Rene exchanged a look. Rene’s crossed arms rested on the back of the chair. He shrugged at Candace’s unspoken communication.

“You think I should know what this is,” Adrienne guessed.

“Your sister knew.”

“Really?”

“From what we know of her, yes,” Candace added. “I never met her. The spirits have told me some about her and that she was cursed and Jax had lost his ways and Rene was sure to follow.”

“Lost his way,” Adrienne murmured. “Because of the gang?”

“Because he hurts people.” Candace’s words were hushed.

Adrienne looked from her to Rene. The gang member’s eyes were on the Red Man in her picture, his face unreadable.

“He didn’t hurt my sister, did he?” she asked, uncertain she wanted to know.

“No,” Candace assured her. “He is … was … innocent when he became entangled in your curse. Rene, you are destined to be a warrior for our gods. We failed with your brother.”

“Jax will be fine,” Rene said gruffly. “I don’t fight for no one but Jax.”

“Adrienne will need your help.”

He glanced at her.

“I don’t need help.” Adrienne gazed back, uncertain what to think. “How do I break the curse?”

Candace gathered up the tea items and replaced them on the tray, thoughtful.

“I told you - you need to learn to fight,” Rene told Adrienne.

“It’s not going to help me with the curse!”

“It wouldn’t hurt to learn self-defense, especially in this neighborhood,” Candace said wisely. “Most curses have some sort of limit on them to prevent innocent people from being hurt and also to prevent the originator from harm. An expiration date, single person or goal, or a way to lift it. While drinking tea, you said there was a limerick your grandmother sang to you when you were little. Do you remember it?”

Adrienne thought hard. Her grandmother sang to them in French. Even so, the elderly woman had died before Adrienne was six.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I can ask my mama.”

“Ask her if she knows what generation the curse is in. That might help us,” Candace said. “I don’t know if I can lift it or shed light on what happened to your sister, but I can try.”

“Really?” Adrienne asked, astonished someone was willing to help when no one in her hometown had been willing to even discuss it. “Why would you help me? I can’t pay you.”

“Multiple reasons,” Candace said, glancing at Rene again. “Moral obligation, mostly. I am a mambos whose specialty is healing.”

“Thank you so much!”

“It’s late, Rene. You should take her home.”

Rene rose before Candace finished speaking, his features tight. Adrienne sensed he was upset, then decided that was usually the case and rose, gaze on Candace.

“So I should come back after I talk to my mama?” she asked.

“That would be fine.”

For the first time since arriving to New Orleans, Adrienne had someone to help her uncover more information about her sister. And about the family curse.

She looked at the picture she’d drawn. How had she known how to write the strange code from her sister’s journal?

Who was the Red Man?

“C’mon,” Rene said brusquely, sweeping out of the private room.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Adrienne said. “I hope to see you again soon.”

“Take care of yourself, Addy,” Candace replied.

Adrienne nodded. She didn’t notice her throbbing ear until she left the shop and reached up to touch it. She grimaced.

“You need to learn to fight,” Rene said. “Or you can stop popping up in my damn territory.”

“Not until I get my journal back!” she snapped.

“Whatever.” He began walking.

Adrienne eyed the sky, hoping she’d beat her daddy home from work. She had to try to get the blood out of her clothes before he discovered what happened. She needed an excuse, too, and right now, saying she got beat up by a gang sounded better than the truth.

“Who was that guy last night?” Rene asked. The odd note in his voice drew her gaze.

“Guy?” she repeated.

“The one who said your daddy was looking for you.”

“Jayden.” She smiled. “He’s a friend from school.”

“Right, and I’m your brother.”

Adrienne giggled at the thought of her daddy raising Rene. “He is just a friend,” she said. “I think.”

“You don’t know?”

She was quiet, debating.

“You want there to be more,” Rene guessed. “Prissy, pansy rich boys. Everyone’s got a type.”

“He’s not prissy or a pansy,” she replied quickly. “He’s a quarterback and a gentleman.”

Rene rolled his eyes.

“You’re a voodoo gang member who lives at home with his mother,” she retorted. “Tell me that’s better!”

“I do not live with my mama. She lives with me!” Rene responded. “You tell him you going to bokors and hanging out with voodoo gang members at night?”

Adrienne flushed.

“I can’t hear you.”

She said nothing.

“Oh, so he don’t know what you’re like outside of school. Nice way to start a relationship.”

“This is my first week at school. Fine. I like him. A lot, but he’s … not like us,” she said.

“So, what? I’m your girlfriend, and he’s your boyfriend? I get to know your secrets and he gets what? A fake you?”

“It’s none of your business, Rene. Your aunt know you on drugs?”

He eyed her. “It’s not drugs.”

“What is it?”

He was still for a moment then reached into the pocket where he’d put whatever he got from the stranger in front of her apartment building. He held out a piece of paper.

Adrienne took it and unfolded it, recognizing the veve of the warrior god, Ogoun. Nothing else was written.

“When a bokor or other member of our House requires a … favor, they send a message like this,” Rene explained. “This is from my uncle. He has an assignment for our crew. He sends a note, I go meet him for details.”

“Oh,” she said. “Assignment?”

“You don’t need to know. Gang stuff.”

“You mean bad stuff. Hurting people, vandalizing buildings, thieving?” she asked.

“Yeah. If we can’t do it through normal methods, we resort to black magic.”

“That’s awful, Rene. I think drugs are better.”

“You got no clue.”

There were times she was attracted to him and times she wanted to kill him. Adrienne didn’t know what to feel about Rene, who loudly proclaimed he didn’t want to help her then walked her home when he could clearly just leave her in some alley.

Irritated with one another, they didn’t talk the rest of the way. Adrienne walked into her building without saying farewell, upset to realize he was at least a little bit right. She’d planned on not telling Jayden anything about her voodoo past or her curse or even ever letting him meet her backwards mother and family.

She reached her daddy’s apartment and was relieved to see it wasn’t quite seven yet. He’d be home soon, but she had time to try to get blood out of her uniform.

She checked her email first and saw a note from Jayden waiting for her.

A-

Just making sure you’re okay.

J.

She felt guilty. She’d spent the evening out with Rene, even if it had been in pursuit of information about her sister. She couldn’t tell Jayden that, though. She hesitated then typed a response.

J-

I am, thank you! The line at the clinic is always long. Tomorrow’s the big day – you get to hear me sing!

A.

She sent the response then emailed her mother, asking about the lullaby her grandmother used to sing.

Afterwards, Adrienne evened out her hair and did her damnedest to scrub out the blood from her school uniform before her daddy got home. She set out her cheer squad uniform, grateful she had the weekend to find white shirts, since both of hers were stained. She wasn’t sure how she’d manage to get her homework done and try to figure out how to catch up in math, when her head was barely above water.

Jayden promised to help.

She told herself this over and over. Emma said he was the smartest kid at school. If anyone could help her, he could. Maybe this weekend, she’d find time to spend with him working on keeping her in school.

Right at eight, her father got home from work.

Adrienne shoved the clothing she’d spent half an hour scrubbing into the tiny dryer and closed it.

“You ready for dinner, Daddy?” she called.

“Yeah, pun’kin.”

Adrienne went to the kitchen. Her ear was hurting. She kept her new hairdo down, hoping her daddy noticed that instead of her missing earlobe.

She opened the cabinet. A sticky note fluttered to the ground. Adrienne picked it up.

Get my journal back.

She stared. The journal was Therese’s. Did that mean whoever left the note was Therese?

How was that possible?

“You change your hair?” her daddy asked.

Adrienne crumpled the note in her hand and shoved it in her pocket as she reached for a box of Hamburger Helper.

“Yeah. Trying to be um, more stylish,” she lied.

“Looks nice.”

“Thanks.” Distracted, she made dinner, ate quickly and returned to her room, anxious for some alone time to try to figure out what was going on.

Instead of studying, she searched for more sticky notes. There were none, just like there was no explanation as to why a voodoo priestess she’d never met before had chopped off her hair and ear.

Uneasily, she could guess what the woman might do, if she was one of those who toyed with black magic.

Adrienne’s eyes watered. She definitely didn’t need another curse to complicate her life. Hopefully, Jayden’s grandmama was devoted to the gods who favored healing over violence.

Lying down, she found it hard to sleep for more reasons than because her ear hurt. Tomorrow, she’d be singing in front of Jayden and the school. If there was one thing she knew, it was that she’d blow them away. How she’d find a way to catch up to class was a different matter entirely.

She stretched for her tarot deck and drew a card.

“Will tomorrow be awesome?” she asked then flipped a card. “Six of Pentacles, reversed.” Tough one. “So I need to be open to someone trying to help me? What does this have to do with school?”

Sometimes, the cards were more confusing than helpful. She replaced it and turned off the lamp on her nightstand.