I was waiting on the sidewalk when Mama stopped in front of Bertram’s. The roof on her Sprite was still down, my perch on the back of the car just as insecure as it had been earlier in the day. Mama and Jason were laughing and having a grand old time, seemingly oblivious to my discomfort.
Cottony clouds blowing up from Pontchartrain cloaked moon and stars. There were no streetlights in the undeveloped part of St. John’s Bayou where Mama parked on the side of a dirt road.
“Looks like rain,” she said. “Help me raise the roof.”
Mama watched as Jason and I struggled with the Sprite’s stubborn canvas top, and then rolled up the windows. African drums, muted by the night’s unrelenting humidity, sounded in the distance.
“Where to?”
“Follow the drumming,” she said, pointing into the darkness.
When the moon emerged from the clouds, I got a glimpse of the bayou. Neighborhoods had grown up around much of it. Where we were, there were only bushes, drumbeats and shrouded moonlight.
“Slow down,” I said. “This isn’t a track meet.”
Mama ignored my plea. “Just try to keep up with me,” she said.
“We’re not going to be eaten, are we?” Jason asked.
“This is a voodoo ceremony. No cannibals here.”
“There might be one later on,” he said, nibbling her neck.
“Promises promises,” she said.
The dark path led to a clearing beside the bayou. Senora, dressed in white, stood behind Madam Aja’s wheelchair. They weren’t alone. A man pounded an ancient cadence on an African drum as a small audience crowded around a fire. Two men were digging a trench, others gathering brush and logs with which to fill it. It was soon ablaze, flames and smoke from the fire wisping skyward as more people, many also dressed in white, began arriving.
Soon, more drummers arrived, as hundreds of worshippers danced in the clearing. I stayed with Madam Aja as Mama and Senora pulled Jason into the fray.
“Did you send out a written invitation?”
My question evoked a chuckle from the old woman. “They know. Many more will arrive before the sun appears.”
Believers continued to appear, joining the manic ceremony.
“Where are they coming from?”
“Everywhere. Madam Marie directed the dancing when she was alive. She never tired.”
“You mean Marie Laveau’s daughter?”
“The true Madam Marie was always present as she is now.”
I didn’t question her as the tempo of the drums intensified, the frenzy in the circle of dancing worshippers growing wilder. Everyone, including Mama and Jason, seemed caught in the frenzy. The clothes of many of the dancers were in disarray. Some were rolling on the ground, speaking in tongues. No one stopped dancing when the clouds opened, and cold rain began drenching the masses.
“The possessions have begun,” Madam Aja said.
Jason was in the midst of the action. Someone had handed him a top hat, cigar, and flashy sunglasses. When Mama produced a bottle of rum, pouring it down her chest, Jason began lapping at it with his tongue. His aberrant behavior became even more so as he stalked through the dancers, exchanging overt sexual gestures, moves, and sensual touches.
“Is Jason...”
Madam Aja nodded. “The Baron has possessed him, and they are one.”
Lightning flashed over the bayou, followed by a clap of thunder so close, it seemed to shake the ground. The storm’s force caused some of the dancers to run for cover. Most continued dancing, oblivious to the rain pouring off their shoulders.
“The ceremony will continue through the night,” Madam Aja said.
“Even in this storm?”
The old woman nodded. “They are believers. So am I, but I am old. Will you push me to the car?”
Grabbing the back of Madam Aja’s wheelchair, I pushed her to the rows of cars parked on the nearby dirt road. Senora’s four-door sedan was unlocked. After helping the old woman into the front seat, I crawled in back, shutting the door as thunder rocked the car.
“Can you pass me a towel?” she asked.
A basket of clean towels lay beside me on the back seat, Senora apparently cognizant of threatening weather before leaving their home. I gave her one and then used another to stem the water dripping down my face. Senora, Mama, and Jason soon joined us.
“My head’s about to explode,” Jason said.
Senora started the car and cranked the heater. As warm air blasted into the back seat, I wiggled my toes, realizing just how cold I’d been. Senora passed out pills and bottles of water. Jason swallowed his pills without asking what they were.
“Some voodoo potion to make me feel better, I hope.”
“It’ll make you feel better, but it’s only aspirin,” Senora said.
“My stomach is queasy,” he said. “I feel as if I just drank a bottle of rum.”
“That’s because you did,” Mama said. “Good thing you were possessed by the spirit of Baron Samedi, or you’d probably be dead.”
“The way my head and gut feels, I wish I were,” he said.
Madam Aja glanced at Mama and pointed to the glove box. “You have lots to accomplish before the night ends. You can’t be sick.”
She gave Mama a brown paper sack filled with white powder. Mama blew it up Jason’s nose.
“What the hell!”
“Magic voodoo powder,” Mama said.
“What is it?” Jason asked.
“Doesn’t matter. You’ll feel better in a minute.”
“I already do. Something else,” he said. “I know where Wyatt’s portal is.”
###
It was late, rain falling in bucket loads as we vacated the dirt road from Bayou St. John and headed toward the French Quarter. Jason was in the Sprite with Mama Mulate. I was grateful to stay in the backseat of Senora’s sedan.
The tourist area of Bourbon Street had closed to vehicle traffic. It didn’t matter because the rain had markedly diminished the enthusiasm of most of the all-night revelers. Only a few drunken souls stumbled down the wet street as I opened the door. Madam Aja grasped my arm.
“When you pass through the portal, you’ll become the person you once were. Jason must alter the curse. And Wyatt, if you’re not back before midnight on New Year’s Eve, you will remain in the past forever.”
“But that’s only a few hours from now,” I said.
“Have faith,” she said when I stepped out into the rain.
Jason and Mama embraced as Senora and Madam Aja disappeared around a corner. I was hoping it wouldn’t be their last. We stood in silence, getting dripping wet, but none of us moving.
“Wyatt, what Madam Aja told you isn’t entirely correct,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“I have a drug that will transform your consciousness once you pass the portal. It’ll force your return to reality.”
“That’s wonderful news,” I said.
“It’s powerful but also dangerous. Jason can only give you a small amount and then no more than twice. A third dose might kill you. I explained this to him on the way over here.”
“Then why are you telling me?”
Mama grasped my hand, pulling me into a tight hug. “I don’t know if I can live with myself if you die. Traveling, as you and Jason are about to do, is probably the most foolhardy thing you’ve ever done.”
“Surely it’s not that dangerous,” I said.
“Even more so. That’s why I’m giving Jason the drug. I don’t know what else to do.”
“Then tell me where to find the portal. I’ll go alone.”
“No way,” Jason said. “I wouldn’t miss this grand adventure for the world.”
“There’s something else we need to discuss,” Mama said. “Wyatt will know you when you cross, but he won’t know how or why. It’ll be up to you to concoct a convincing story.”
“I’ll think of something,” Jason said.
“I’m still worried,” she said.
I gave her a kiss on the forehead. “We’ll look out for each other.”
Mama slipped something around Jason’s neck.
“The drug is in the gris gris bag because it’s the only way it’ll pass through the portal.”
Jason kissed her. “Stop worrying.”
“I’ll be waiting,” she said. “Please don’t stand me up.”