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Authors: Patrick E. McLean
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her yellow teeth in a grotesque smile. Marie turned her head away.
But dark power also flowed through Marie’s veins. When she turned back and saw Momma Oya’s man standing there, she realized that her destiny wasn’t the kind of thing she needed permission to fulfill. She smiled at him, cut her right palm open with her left thumbnail and started a spell of her own. Somehow, deep inside her, she knew that this time the magic would work.
When Marie got home, she was surprised to discover that The Nameless Man had not left. One night, he came to Marie and thanked her for breaking Momma Oya’s spell. He kissed her on the lips softly and Marie felt the pain of lust more keenly than the tearing ache in her guts. Even as her body was wrecked and dying, it wanted him. After all, Marie was 18, and he was 25, if that. He was one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen. And she had never been with a man.
To keep the electricity in her body from showing on her face, she asked him, “If the spell she cast on you is gone, why don’t you flee?”
The Nameless Man gave her a sad smile and asked, “Where a simple man gonna hide from a witchy woman like that? No, chere, dere nothing we can do. We both powerless agin her.”
Marie knew he was right, but she looked up at him with her soft eyes. Maybe it was a precise mixture of lust and pity. Maybe it was the beauty of youth wrapped in the wings of the angel of death. For whatever reason, in that instant, Marie’s eyes cast another spell. The Nameless Man fell in love with her on the spot.
Their coupling was tender, savage and irrevocable.
Later that night, The Rat came to The Nameless Man and made him an offer. The Nameless Man knew that rat for what it was, and was so terrified he was sure he would not be able to speak. It was no impediment. The Rat and the man reached an agreement.
The next day the cancer was still in the house, but it had switched stomachs. Now Momma Oya was sick and dying. Marie was horrified. She was horrified that she might have done this to her mother. She was horrified that it might be another one of her mother’s tricks and that she would be struck down by the awful pain again. But when The Nameless Man told her that Kalfou, the God of Crossroads and Bargains, had come to him and made a deal, she was horrified at how relieved she was.
They had two weeks. Two weeks of bliss. They made Marie’s room a sauna in which every drop of young lust was sweated out of their bodies. Marie came to know what it is to love a man. But in all that time, in all those quiet hours lying in each other’s arms, The Nameless Man would never tell her what bargain he had made with the spirit who had appeared to him in the shape of a rat.
Miraculously, Momma Oya went gently. One night, when Marie took her dinner, instead of cursing and throwing things, Momma Oya said, “Don’t be so sad childe. It couldn’t end no other way for me. The life I did, the things I done. If it have to be like dis, it have to be like dis.” Marie thought it was a trick like everything else. But it was not.
Across a series of days, her mother told her everything. How she had been molested as a child by her own father. How she had run away from home and was taken in by the old woman who lived down by the river. How the old woman scared her father so much that he left her alone. She told Marie how she wanted the power, needed the power, to feel safe. In the end, though, nothing had made her feel safe. And, sooner or later, she saw her father in the face of every man she had been with.
Marie said nothing. She listened from a safe distance and waited for the other shoe to drop. At the end, right before Momma Oya died, she cursed her daughter. Like all things to come out of that hateful woman’s mouth, it came out sideways. She wrapped the curse in prophecy.
“You tink you gwanna lay with that warm strong man after I’m gone. No. No, Childe. He leave you as soon as I’m cold. And
But dark power also flowed through Marie’s veins. When she turned back and saw Momma Oya’s man standing there, she realized that her destiny wasn’t the kind of thing she needed permission to fulfill. She smiled at him, cut her right palm open with her left thumbnail and started a spell of her own. Somehow, deep inside her, she knew that this time the magic would work.
When Marie got home, she was surprised to discover that The Nameless Man had not left. One night, he came to Marie and thanked her for breaking Momma Oya’s spell. He kissed her on the lips softly and Marie felt the pain of lust more keenly than the tearing ache in her guts. Even as her body was wrecked and dying, it wanted him. After all, Marie was 18, and he was 25, if that. He was one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen. And she had never been with a man.
To keep the electricity in her body from showing on her face, she asked him, “If the spell she cast on you is gone, why don’t you flee?”
The Nameless Man gave her a sad smile and asked, “Where a simple man gonna hide from a witchy woman like that? No, chere, dere nothing we can do. We both powerless agin her.”
Marie knew he was right, but she looked up at him with her soft eyes. Maybe it was a precise mixture of lust and pity. Maybe it was the beauty of youth wrapped in the wings of the angel of death. For whatever reason, in that instant, Marie’s eyes cast another spell. The Nameless Man fell in love with her on the spot.
Their coupling was tender, savage and irrevocable.
Later that night, The Rat came to The Nameless Man and made him an offer. The Nameless Man knew that rat for what it was, and was so terrified he was sure he would not be able to speak. It was no impediment. The Rat and the man reached an agreement.
The next day the cancer was still in the house, but it had switched stomachs. Now Momma Oya was sick and dying. Marie was horrified. She was horrified that she might have done this to her mother. She was horrified that it might be another one of her mother’s tricks and that she would be struck down by the awful pain again. But when The Nameless Man told her that Kalfou, the God of Crossroads and Bargains, had come to him and made a deal, she was horrified at how relieved she was.
They had two weeks. Two weeks of bliss. They made Marie’s room a sauna in which every drop of young lust was sweated out of their bodies. Marie came to know what it is to love a man. But in all that time, in all those quiet hours lying in each other’s arms, The Nameless Man would never tell her what bargain he had made with the spirit who had appeared to him in the shape of a rat.
Miraculously, Momma Oya went gently. One night, when Marie took her dinner, instead of cursing and throwing things, Momma Oya said, “Don’t be so sad childe. It couldn’t end no other way for me. The life I did, the things I done. If it have to be like dis, it have to be like dis.” Marie thought it was a trick like everything else. But it was not.
Across a series of days, her mother told her everything. How she had been molested as a child by her own father. How she had run away from home and was taken in by the old woman who lived down by the river. How the old woman scared her father so much that he left her alone. She told Marie how she wanted the power, needed the power, to feel safe. In the end, though, nothing had made her feel safe. And, sooner or later, she saw her father in the face of every man she had been with.
Marie said nothing. She listened from a safe distance and waited for the other shoe to drop. At the end, right before Momma Oya died, she cursed her daughter. Like all things to come out of that hateful woman’s mouth, it came out sideways. She wrapped the curse in prophecy.
“You tink you gwanna lay with that warm strong man after I’m gone. No. No, Childe. He leave you as soon as I’m cold. And
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