to dance with an eerie, stalking motion that made her legs seem longer than they were, thin and bony. Shadows clung to the hollows of her eyes and cheekbones, turning her face into a cruel mask. She laughed again. Her voice was deep, too deep for her woman’s body. Her lips skinned back from her teeth in a death’s-head grin.
“Prince of Cemetery!” Mami hissed, her eyes wide. She kept her rhythm going, but even softer.
“You know so, old lady,” Ti-Jeanne rumbled. She pranced on long legs over to Mami, bent down, down, down; ran a bony forefinger over the old woman’s cheek. “Good and old, yes? Like you nearly ready to come to me soon, daughter!”
To Tony’s surprise, Mami Gros-Jeanne spoke sternly, drumming all the while, to the spirit that was riding her granddaughter. “I ain’t no daughter of yours. Stop the foolishness and tell me what you doing with Ti-Jeanne. You know she head ain’t ready to hold no spirits yet.”
Ti-Jeanne/Prince of Cemetery chuckled, a hollow sound like bones falling into a pit. He danced over to Eshu’s stone head and used a long, long finger to scoop up some of the chicken blood thickening there. Slowly he licked and sucked it off his finger, smiling like a child scraping out the batter bowl. Tony’s stomach roiled.
“But doux-doux,” Prince of Cemetery said, “your granddaughter head full of spirits already; she ain’t tell you? All kind of duppy and thing. When she close she eyes, she does see death. She belong to me. She is my daughter. You should ’fraid of she.”
The old woman sucked her teeth in disgust. “Man, don’t try to mamaguy me, oui? You only telling half the story. Prince of Cemetery does watch over death, yes, but he control life, too, when he come as Eshu. So why I should be frighten?”
The spirit grinned wide, did a pirouette. “Well, if you know that, old lady, tell Ti-Jeanne. Tell my horse to open she eyes good and see the whole thing; death…” He stopped, seemed for the first time to notice Baby strapped to his chest. Baby stared up at him, no fear in his face. Prince of Cemetery chortled. He pulled open the Velcro, took Baby out of the Snugli, and held him up in the air, grinning and cooing at him. Baby cooed back.
“And life,” Prince of Cemetery continued. The words were now coming from Baby’s lips. The booming deep man-voice lisped with the effort of forming words through the baby’s underdeveloped vocal apparatus. “Tell she when she go out tonight, she must carry something she man give she. She must conceal it somewhere on she body. I go hide she halfway in Guinea Land, where flesh people can’t see she. So long as she carrying Tony gift on she, nobody go see he, either. But only till sunup. Tell she that,” the baby cooed, then laughed, a sound too deep and knowing for its young body.
• • • •
“Tell she that…”
Ti-Jeanne came back to herself. She was standing, holding Baby up toward the ceiling. He was speaking in a man’s voice. Shocked, she nearly dropped him. He laughed. Gaping, she brought him back down to chest level, but his mouth was closed now. Had she had another vision? But she didn’t remember anything. “Mami? Tony?”
“Sit down, doux-doux,” her grandmother said. The rhythm she was beating had changed. “You go be feeling tired.”
She did feel tired. She handed Tony the baby so she could sit. He flinched back from her touch, then all but snatched Baby out of her hands. Why was he looking at her like that? She lowered herself to the ground, feeling her leg muscles tremble.
Mami’s body started to jerk. Her eyes closed, fluttered. She took in little gasps with each jerk of her body. Eerily, her fingers kept tapping the beat, as though someone else were controlling them.
“Help she, Tony! She having some kinda fit!”
Tony handed Baby back to Ti-Jeanne and crawled over to Mami, but as he reached a hand toward her, her eyes snapped open. Her hands stopped moving on the drum. Ti-Jeanne
“Prince of Cemetery!” Mami hissed, her eyes wide. She kept her rhythm going, but even softer.
“You know so, old lady,” Ti-Jeanne rumbled. She pranced on long legs over to Mami, bent down, down, down; ran a bony forefinger over the old woman’s cheek. “Good and old, yes? Like you nearly ready to come to me soon, daughter!”
To Tony’s surprise, Mami Gros-Jeanne spoke sternly, drumming all the while, to the spirit that was riding her granddaughter. “I ain’t no daughter of yours. Stop the foolishness and tell me what you doing with Ti-Jeanne. You know she head ain’t ready to hold no spirits yet.”
Ti-Jeanne/Prince of Cemetery chuckled, a hollow sound like bones falling into a pit. He danced over to Eshu’s stone head and used a long, long finger to scoop up some of the chicken blood thickening there. Slowly he licked and sucked it off his finger, smiling like a child scraping out the batter bowl. Tony’s stomach roiled.
“But doux-doux,” Prince of Cemetery said, “your granddaughter head full of spirits already; she ain’t tell you? All kind of duppy and thing. When she close she eyes, she does see death. She belong to me. She is my daughter. You should ’fraid of she.”
The old woman sucked her teeth in disgust. “Man, don’t try to mamaguy me, oui? You only telling half the story. Prince of Cemetery does watch over death, yes, but he control life, too, when he come as Eshu. So why I should be frighten?”
The spirit grinned wide, did a pirouette. “Well, if you know that, old lady, tell Ti-Jeanne. Tell my horse to open she eyes good and see the whole thing; death…” He stopped, seemed for the first time to notice Baby strapped to his chest. Baby stared up at him, no fear in his face. Prince of Cemetery chortled. He pulled open the Velcro, took Baby out of the Snugli, and held him up in the air, grinning and cooing at him. Baby cooed back.
“And life,” Prince of Cemetery continued. The words were now coming from Baby’s lips. The booming deep man-voice lisped with the effort of forming words through the baby’s underdeveloped vocal apparatus. “Tell she when she go out tonight, she must carry something she man give she. She must conceal it somewhere on she body. I go hide she halfway in Guinea Land, where flesh people can’t see she. So long as she carrying Tony gift on she, nobody go see he, either. But only till sunup. Tell she that,” the baby cooed, then laughed, a sound too deep and knowing for its young body.
• • • •
“Tell she that…”
Ti-Jeanne came back to herself. She was standing, holding Baby up toward the ceiling. He was speaking in a man’s voice. Shocked, she nearly dropped him. He laughed. Gaping, she brought him back down to chest level, but his mouth was closed now. Had she had another vision? But she didn’t remember anything. “Mami? Tony?”
“Sit down, doux-doux,” her grandmother said. The rhythm she was beating had changed. “You go be feeling tired.”
She did feel tired. She handed Tony the baby so she could sit. He flinched back from her touch, then all but snatched Baby out of her hands. Why was he looking at her like that? She lowered herself to the ground, feeling her leg muscles tremble.
Mami’s body started to jerk. Her eyes closed, fluttered. She took in little gasps with each jerk of her body. Eerily, her fingers kept tapping the beat, as though someone else were controlling them.
“Help she, Tony! She having some kinda fit!”
Tony handed Baby back to Ti-Jeanne and crawled over to Mami, but as he reached a hand toward her, her eyes snapped open. Her hands stopped moving on the drum. Ti-Jeanne
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