off Rousseau’s scent. Mama’s going buck wild and speaking in tongues like she’s under the influence of the Holy Spirit; we know there’s nothing holy about this power.
Dr. Whitmore recognizes the root workers’ instruments and cuts his eyes at me. I know there’s history there but now is not the time to dig. “You’re the only one who has a chance at reaching your grandmother in this state.”
“But how?” Last time Mama snatched me into her vision and that shit hurt. I don’t want to do that again.
“Jayd, relax,” Dr. Whitmore says, his voice even and steady. “Focus all of your energy on calming her breath. Willfully fall to sleep and dream walk with your grandmother. Her life depends on it.” Dr. Whitmore lights a few incense sticks and dims the lights. How does he always remain so calm?
“Here, baby,” Netta says, ushering me toward the massage table. “Lay down and do what the doctor says. I’ve got Lynn Mae.” Netta follows my grandmother around to make sure that she doesn’t hurt herself. In this state Mama’s liable to run through a glass window or better yet attack one of us. Damn Esmeralda for this shit.
“Okay,” I say, doing as I’m told. “I need to spread these herbs around the room. It’ll help us both.”
Netta looks at Dr. Whitmore who reluctantly nods his head in affirmation. She takes the contents and sprinkles them around the room.
“Listen,” Dr. Whitmore says, softly ringing the brass bell. “When it rings, breathe in. When it’s quiet, breathe out and fall into a deep sleep.”
“Just like that?” I say, closing my eyes. Falling instantaneously into a deep sleep isn’t that easy at night let alone during the day.
“Yes, Jayd. Just like that.” Dr. Whitmore says, standing at my feet.
The first couple of times the bell rings I can’t relax. My heart is pulsating and I’m breaking out into a cold sweat. I’m scared of falling into the dream. I’m also afraid of failing Mama. The third time’s the charm: I’m inside of Mama’s dream world and it doesn’t look so bad. It’s actually quite peaceful, contrary to what it appears to be in reality.
“It’s about time you showed up,” Mama says. She looks young and vibrant, the complete opposite of Esmeralda’s youthful transformation, which is more reminiscent of a harlot’s revolution. “I’ve missed my grandbaby.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” I say, wrapping my arms around Mama. It’s then that I realize we’re standing on top of the same alligator she was riding in her last vision. Oh hell no.
“Don’t be afraid, Jayd. He won’t bite.”
The hell he won’t. I look at the large reptile and plan my escape without us becoming his dinner. “Mama, I need you to come with me,” I say, grabbing Mama’s hand tightly like I used to do when I was a little girl crossing the street. “This isn’t your dream; it’s Esmeralda’s.”
“Oh chile, please,” Mama says, tossing her head back and allowing her wildly curly hair to flow freely across her shoulders. Mama’s always stunning but I’ve never seen her glow like this before. “You don’t think that I know the difference between a dream and a nightmare? Look at me; I’m gorgeous! Esmeralda would never make me dream like this.”
She has a good point but she’s still wrong. “Look, I don’t know why she’s allowing you to appear in your prime but I’m telling you, Mama. This isn’t your dream. Rousseau hunted you down and Esmeralda took over. Trust me, we need to go. Now!”
“What did I tell you about minding your business, little girl?” Esmeralda says, rising out of the water. She walks on top of the water in our direction.
“Oh my,” Mama says, staring at her nemesis shell-shocked. “But I look so beautiful,” Mama catches her reflection in the river and begins to comb her fingers through her hair ignoring the danger we’re in. What the hell is wrong with her?
“Mama, watch out!” The alligator rises out of
Dr. Whitmore recognizes the root workers’ instruments and cuts his eyes at me. I know there’s history there but now is not the time to dig. “You’re the only one who has a chance at reaching your grandmother in this state.”
“But how?” Last time Mama snatched me into her vision and that shit hurt. I don’t want to do that again.
“Jayd, relax,” Dr. Whitmore says, his voice even and steady. “Focus all of your energy on calming her breath. Willfully fall to sleep and dream walk with your grandmother. Her life depends on it.” Dr. Whitmore lights a few incense sticks and dims the lights. How does he always remain so calm?
“Here, baby,” Netta says, ushering me toward the massage table. “Lay down and do what the doctor says. I’ve got Lynn Mae.” Netta follows my grandmother around to make sure that she doesn’t hurt herself. In this state Mama’s liable to run through a glass window or better yet attack one of us. Damn Esmeralda for this shit.
“Okay,” I say, doing as I’m told. “I need to spread these herbs around the room. It’ll help us both.”
Netta looks at Dr. Whitmore who reluctantly nods his head in affirmation. She takes the contents and sprinkles them around the room.
“Listen,” Dr. Whitmore says, softly ringing the brass bell. “When it rings, breathe in. When it’s quiet, breathe out and fall into a deep sleep.”
“Just like that?” I say, closing my eyes. Falling instantaneously into a deep sleep isn’t that easy at night let alone during the day.
“Yes, Jayd. Just like that.” Dr. Whitmore says, standing at my feet.
The first couple of times the bell rings I can’t relax. My heart is pulsating and I’m breaking out into a cold sweat. I’m scared of falling into the dream. I’m also afraid of failing Mama. The third time’s the charm: I’m inside of Mama’s dream world and it doesn’t look so bad. It’s actually quite peaceful, contrary to what it appears to be in reality.
“It’s about time you showed up,” Mama says. She looks young and vibrant, the complete opposite of Esmeralda’s youthful transformation, which is more reminiscent of a harlot’s revolution. “I’ve missed my grandbaby.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” I say, wrapping my arms around Mama. It’s then that I realize we’re standing on top of the same alligator she was riding in her last vision. Oh hell no.
“Don’t be afraid, Jayd. He won’t bite.”
The hell he won’t. I look at the large reptile and plan my escape without us becoming his dinner. “Mama, I need you to come with me,” I say, grabbing Mama’s hand tightly like I used to do when I was a little girl crossing the street. “This isn’t your dream; it’s Esmeralda’s.”
“Oh chile, please,” Mama says, tossing her head back and allowing her wildly curly hair to flow freely across her shoulders. Mama’s always stunning but I’ve never seen her glow like this before. “You don’t think that I know the difference between a dream and a nightmare? Look at me; I’m gorgeous! Esmeralda would never make me dream like this.”
She has a good point but she’s still wrong. “Look, I don’t know why she’s allowing you to appear in your prime but I’m telling you, Mama. This isn’t your dream. Rousseau hunted you down and Esmeralda took over. Trust me, we need to go. Now!”
“What did I tell you about minding your business, little girl?” Esmeralda says, rising out of the water. She walks on top of the water in our direction.
“Oh my,” Mama says, staring at her nemesis shell-shocked. “But I look so beautiful,” Mama catches her reflection in the river and begins to comb her fingers through her hair ignoring the danger we’re in. What the hell is wrong with her?
“Mama, watch out!” The alligator rises out of
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