felt as though the rhythm had continued, though, in the very cells of her body. Mami glared at Tony. “Don’t touch me. So long you ain’t use your hands to heal. Don’t touch me. You not my son any more.”
She seemed even older than her years, one eye scarred shut, her voice raspy. She fumbled a stick from the shadows behind her and began to clamber awkwardly to her feet. The stick was as gnarled as she appeared.
Where that come from? Ti-Jeanne thought. I ain’t see she bring it out with the other things. Then she gave a little cry as Mami stood up her full length. One sleeve of Mami’s dress flopped empty, and only one foot showed beneath the hem of her dress. One arm was missing and one leg! “Oh, God!” Ti-Jeanne wailed.
Mami looked at her and answered in the voice of an old, old man. “You calling on God Father, but he ain’t go answer. Me now, I right here. Gros-Jeanne send for me, and I come.” Mami hopped over to the altar, leaned her cane against it. She picked up one of the potatoes, took a bite out of it, chewed, and swallowed with relish.
Tony nudged Ti-Jeanne, whispered, “Ask he!”
“He who? Ask he what?” she hissed back.
Tony cleared his throat, tried to speak, stuttered, tried again: “I—is who you is, spirit? Who we talking to?”
Mami looked at him disdainfully. “You used to be one of mine. Me, Osain. But I ain’t come because of you. I come because my daughter Gros-Jeanne ask me.”
Osain! It was the name Mami had said. Papa Osain. Ti-Jeanne realised that the person she was looking at wasn’t exactly her grandmother. Mami/Osain hobbled forward, using his stick for balance. He leaned down toward Ti-Jeanne, until she thought he would topple. “I mad at Gros-Jeanne, you hear? So many years now I telling she what she have to do to get rid of that Rudy, and she ain’t listening to me.”
Rudy? What Mami have to do with he? The wrinkled old face looking down into hers was softer in feature than Mami’s, but its glare was even more fierce. Ti-Jeanne swore she could see the bump of an Adam’s apple in its throat. She really was talking to a man, a man far older than anyone living. She remembered Mami’s instructions, found her voice. “What message you have for we, spirit?”
The old man sighed, as though he’d been waiting years to hear just that question. “Tell Gros-Jeanne is past time for she to do my work. Is too late for she and for the middle one, but maybe the end one go win through. Ti-Jeanne, she have to help you to get Rudy dead bowl and burn it. Is the only way to stop he from catching shadows in it. The spirits vex at he too bad for all the evil he cause. Prince of Cemetery arms getting weary from carrying all Rudy dead across the bitter water to Guinea Land. Tell Gros-Jeanne is time and past time for she to play she part.”
“And me,” Tony burst out. “What about me? All of this mumbo-jumbo is supposed to help me get out of this damned city!” Baby writhed irritably in Tony’s arms, whimpering. Roughly, Tony handed him back to Ti-Jeanne.
Osain swivelled on his one good heel to look at Tony. “You? I ain’t business with you! Look at you; why you arms cut up like that?”
Tony looked defiant. He rolled down his sleeves over the half-healed buff slashes.
Osain waved his cane in Tony’s direction. “If I had my way, them would catch you and make a end of you, oui? Farmer must know when to grow, and when to prune. You is a branch I woulda chop off one time!” Osain sucked his teeth in disgust. “Healer turn to dealer. What I business with you?”
There was a tremor in Tony’s voice. “But Missis Hunter said you would help me!”
Osain looked at him, made a face, sighed. His badly scarred cheek made him look stern. “Yes, is my daughter ask me this favour. I wouldn’t have grant it, oui? You lucky that Prince of Cemetery decide to help you instead.”
What was he talking about? Ti-Jeanne spoke up timidly. “Papa Osain?”
“Yes,
She seemed even older than her years, one eye scarred shut, her voice raspy. She fumbled a stick from the shadows behind her and began to clamber awkwardly to her feet. The stick was as gnarled as she appeared.
Where that come from? Ti-Jeanne thought. I ain’t see she bring it out with the other things. Then she gave a little cry as Mami stood up her full length. One sleeve of Mami’s dress flopped empty, and only one foot showed beneath the hem of her dress. One arm was missing and one leg! “Oh, God!” Ti-Jeanne wailed.
Mami looked at her and answered in the voice of an old, old man. “You calling on God Father, but he ain’t go answer. Me now, I right here. Gros-Jeanne send for me, and I come.” Mami hopped over to the altar, leaned her cane against it. She picked up one of the potatoes, took a bite out of it, chewed, and swallowed with relish.
Tony nudged Ti-Jeanne, whispered, “Ask he!”
“He who? Ask he what?” she hissed back.
Tony cleared his throat, tried to speak, stuttered, tried again: “I—is who you is, spirit? Who we talking to?”
Mami looked at him disdainfully. “You used to be one of mine. Me, Osain. But I ain’t come because of you. I come because my daughter Gros-Jeanne ask me.”
Osain! It was the name Mami had said. Papa Osain. Ti-Jeanne realised that the person she was looking at wasn’t exactly her grandmother. Mami/Osain hobbled forward, using his stick for balance. He leaned down toward Ti-Jeanne, until she thought he would topple. “I mad at Gros-Jeanne, you hear? So many years now I telling she what she have to do to get rid of that Rudy, and she ain’t listening to me.”
Rudy? What Mami have to do with he? The wrinkled old face looking down into hers was softer in feature than Mami’s, but its glare was even more fierce. Ti-Jeanne swore she could see the bump of an Adam’s apple in its throat. She really was talking to a man, a man far older than anyone living. She remembered Mami’s instructions, found her voice. “What message you have for we, spirit?”
The old man sighed, as though he’d been waiting years to hear just that question. “Tell Gros-Jeanne is past time for she to do my work. Is too late for she and for the middle one, but maybe the end one go win through. Ti-Jeanne, she have to help you to get Rudy dead bowl and burn it. Is the only way to stop he from catching shadows in it. The spirits vex at he too bad for all the evil he cause. Prince of Cemetery arms getting weary from carrying all Rudy dead across the bitter water to Guinea Land. Tell Gros-Jeanne is time and past time for she to play she part.”
“And me,” Tony burst out. “What about me? All of this mumbo-jumbo is supposed to help me get out of this damned city!” Baby writhed irritably in Tony’s arms, whimpering. Roughly, Tony handed him back to Ti-Jeanne.
Osain swivelled on his one good heel to look at Tony. “You? I ain’t business with you! Look at you; why you arms cut up like that?”
Tony looked defiant. He rolled down his sleeves over the half-healed buff slashes.
Osain waved his cane in Tony’s direction. “If I had my way, them would catch you and make a end of you, oui? Farmer must know when to grow, and when to prune. You is a branch I woulda chop off one time!” Osain sucked his teeth in disgust. “Healer turn to dealer. What I business with you?”
There was a tremor in Tony’s voice. “But Missis Hunter said you would help me!”
Osain looked at him, made a face, sighed. His badly scarred cheek made him look stern. “Yes, is my daughter ask me this favour. I wouldn’t have grant it, oui? You lucky that Prince of Cemetery decide to help you instead.”
What was he talking about? Ti-Jeanne spoke up timidly. “Papa Osain?”
“Yes,
Similar Books
