Five Against One

Chapter Eight Santeria Maria Over the next few days Mimi had us all over the place going from one store to another. Much of it was for school clothes which she always took us shopping for every summer, but we made the occasional stop in furniture stores and home improvement outlets. I normally as you could have guessed have no patience for this kind of nonsense since whenever people go into one of those home super stores they come out spending money and having work to do. This concept I will never understand. Thank you Mr. Store Clerk, here is several hundred dollars, now excuse me while I spend all of my free time putting this crap to use, blah, thank you powers that be for making me a girl. During these day long excursions I began doing some research on the white art of Santeria. Santeria is voodoo for good guys. It kind of has its roots set deep in the mysticism of Africa with a splash of Catholicism thrown in for good measure. I was certain there was a lot to learn but thanks to the invention of the smart phone, I was able to begin surfing the net on Mimi’s phone for information during the time we spent in her car. I felt that it was important for me to understand as much as I could about this South American tradition so that when Savannah finally made her move, I would be prepared. Unfortunately, there are very few places on the internet that had reliable information on this subject and those that did varied widely depending on which region in the world the article had been written. For instance, there are many ways to defend one-self from an attack of black magic, but each one is unique: Brazilians can dance away an evil spirit, Cubans have a shot of tequila and smoke a cigar and suddenly all is right in their world, while the other islands call for some very rare herbs and components. After about two hours of jumping from one site to another it became apparent that even though it was contrary to everything I knew to be sensible, I was going to have to get Aunt Katrina involved in this one. I bided my time and waited for Mimi to pull up to a Raymore and Flannigan. It was then that I asked to remain in the car pretending to be involved in one of her countless app’s on the phone. She laughed and exited the car with Nicole trailing behind her. I tried to steady my nerves. I had a feeling that this was going to be one of the most difficult conversations I had ever had. Believe it or not, children can get frustrated too. Most adults don’t believe it but we do have a tolerance point as well. The strange thing was that I truly did care for Craig’s Aunt, she is a good woman and one of the few adults that actually believes in all this stuff but let’s face it, she’s nuts. Not the nuts where you’re worried that she might drop down on all fours, howl and start pretending to be a border collie/werewolf. No, she is the other kind of nuts. I dialed the number and heard it connect. One ringie, two ringies, maybe she wasn’t home, three… “Hullo?” “Hey, Auntie Kat it’s me Caitlin.” “Ahhhhh Quate-lin. I knew you vould be calling me. My Pomeranian has been busy scratching his tush all morning.” Sweet God in heaven did the conversation have to start off this way? “Your dog has a butt itch and that means you knew I would be calling?” “Vhat? No dhaling, are you feverish? Vhat on earth vould my dog’s bottom have to do vith a call from you?” She replied, her voice almost sounding exacerbated. “You said you knew I would call because of your dog’s rectal skin condition.” “No, I knew you vould be calling because Craig told me that the situation between you and Savannah vas getting more and more out of hand. He has kept me informed of most of your nocturnal meetings. My dog’s butt is a matter that I merely mentioned; because I know you have a dog as vell and thought you vould sympathize.” I shook my head from side to side. I was instinctively trying to shake the cobwebs away so that I continued to make more sense than the older woman on the other end of the phone. “Okay. Well there has been a new development that I have not even shared with Craig and this one requires your certain type of expertise.” “Ack my little angel, vhat is it?” I smiled. She could be sweet when she wanted to be. “Well, it seems that Savannah is a Bokur, a voodoo priest, well priestess. She has been trained in the blackest magic and I have it on good information that I am her next target.” “My poor angel, did you get it? Let me see, ah good, good.” “Did I get what?” I asked. “Caitlin, please try to keep up, I was speaking to my dog. Now, let’s talk about this voodoo problem. Before ve begin, you must be certain that she is in fact a member of this sect. If not, ve vill be wasting a lot of time and effort trying to make our preparations only to discover that it vas all for nothing.” “Well, I had her brother approach me a few nights ago and warn me that his sister was involved in voodoo, does that count?” There was a pause in the conversation and then she continued, “Yes, that is a pretty reliable source. A confession from a loved one is usually sound enough to begin making plans. My only concern of course is if he vould lie? Is that possible?” She asked. “I can’t imagine what he would gain from lying to me about something so twisted. Better yet, why approach me with something like that? I mean wouldn’t most kids have laughed and called him a dweeb? He must have sensed that I was magically attuned. He said that I was a warrior for the light, someone born good, who would carry on the struggle against the dark forces of evil.” “He said dis?” “Yes.” I heard her chuckle softly, “Vell then, he must be on as you say, the level. Since I met you dat first time, I knew that you were a good and kind person. I told Craig that you were a child who would do great things in her time. Yes, for now we must believe the information that heaven has been kind enough to pass on to us. So, vhat is your plan?” “Well, I was thinking that we could perhaps take a ride into the city in the next couple of days and try to look up a shop or bookstore that deals in these kind of books and begin doing some research on the subject.” “Quate-lin, you know that I am not schooled in this type of magic, but fortunately I know of a voman who has just such a shop. She lives in Salem and I’m certain she vould meet vith us and perhaps even mix up a spell or two to help keep you and your family safe.” “Great,” I said, “that would be awesome. Why don’t you call her and find out when she can see us and I’ll work on getting permission to take a trip into the city with you.” “Quate-lin, it is not in the city, it is in Salem.” She corrected. “Yes, I know Auntie. But if I ask my parents if I could take a trip with you into Salem to go and visit a Santerian priestess to get some protective spells to stop an insidious voodoo plot, they would have me seeing Dr. Forsythe every day.” “Good point,” she agreed. “We are going to a Hungarian art exhibition at some small gallery in the city. You are interested in sharing some of the culture from the old country with me.” “I am? Oh, da, I mean yes, yes I am. Von day Quate-lin these secrets are going to catch up vith you.” It is never a good sign when a gypsy prophesizes that you are going to pay a heavy toll for your actions. In the case of a story it indicates foreshadowing and foreshadowing means in this particular instance that I was probably going to get my butt kicked for telling my parents a lie. Yet what choice did I have? If I was honest it would be taken as drama and over-reaction. If I do nothing, my sister will continue to be a pawn in this girl’s twisted game and my family and I will more than likely be the recipients of some diabolical curse. Yes, I could see it now. There in my vision was my father, doubled over in pain, begging his doctor for a cure to a disease that they could not pin point. And mother, I imagined her with b