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AS BIANCA HONORE WALKED through the old streets, she made it to the cobblestone paved streets of the French Quarter. She was glad to be back home. There was no place else in the world like New Orleans. The people here were a mixture of cultures from the French, Spanish, Indian and African American legacies. Even some Italians had settled here in the late 1800s. Those who settled here included pirates, prisoners, pilgrims, adventurers, royalty and slaves just to name a few. The past was scarcely obscured here; the residents cherished their heritage and upbringing.
She had missed these sultry Louisiana nights, how the cool fog hung low against the levee at sunrise. She missed the sounds of the city, from the jazz that played at all hours to the sounds that rolled in from the river. She loved to breathe in the night air, hoping to catch a hint of the jasmine and magnolias that grew around the city. During the day she could smell the enticing scents of chicory coffee, red beans and rice, gumbo and boiled seafood.
Like many of the houses and shops in the French Quarter, the one that housed her voodoo shop was a narrow two story tall building. What appeared to be the front of the building that opened to the street was actually the back. The front of the building faced a quiet courtyard where her grand-mere grew some of her most prized herbs that she needed in a steady supply for the shop. There were also lush ferns and a fairly large water fountain nestled in the center of the beautiful courtyard. Unlike the cherubs or lions that adorned most of the fountains in this area, her grand-mere chose one that had a whimsical quality. It was a gargoyle that had water bubbling out from its mouth into the basin. There was also a wrought iron table and chairs nestled in one corner and a fire pit circled by stones that blackened over time when she performed certain voodoo rites.
As she unlocked the doors to the little shop, she took in her surroundings. There were several voodoo shops in the Quarter, but her grand-mere’s shop was one of the more traditional ones. There was an apartment above the store as well, but her grand-mere preferred living in seclusion. Bianca moved into the apartment upstairs to be closer to work and the nightlife that New Orleans had to offer. She wondered why she had left here, there was something magical about this place.
While other cities attempted to capture the essence of New Orleans, none were successful. New Orleans had an ambiance all to itself. This city had a pulse, a rhythm, a life uniquely its own. The energy that thrived here could not be recreated. If she stood still, she could actually feel the pulse of the city.
Even the French Quarter had its own magic. Something about this place was surreal. There was an unmistakable feeling that lived here.
When she was younger, while her grand-mere was busy working in the shop, she would take one of the tours offered here. She loved to explore this city and discover all of its secrets.
A chill of exhilaration washed over Bianca as she watched the customer walk through the door. She couldn’t wait for the day when they realized she was one of the most powerful voodoo priestesses since Marie Laveau. She’d heard rumors that there was another trying the same practices as her. Bianca was determined to find out who it was and inform this imposter that she would be the reigning Queen of Voodoo in New Orleans and no one else.
After Bianca had opened the shop, she took inventory of which ingredients and potions she needed to restock. She was low on the jars of powdered bone, spider legs and poison frog skin. She was also low on snake venom. It looked as if she would need to take a nightly jaunt down to the swamplands to obtain some more items for the store. Her grand-mere insisted on them foraging for ingredients to keep everything authentic for those who practiced voodoo. Bianca warned her customers that voodoo was not for amateurs and all the items in the store were authentic, which could be why they were so popular.
Bianca knew for a fact that several of the competitor’s stores sold crushed bones as well, but upon closer scrutiny, it was merely crushed limestone. Her competitor’s voodoo dolls were clearly factory stamped fabric dolls and cartoonish, whereas the dolls here were authentic versions. Some were even quite grotesque. They were made of black cloth or wax depending on the need of the doll, wrapped in scraps of fabric and had real human hair. For those that requested a voodoo doll to curse a certain individual, it had become known that if the customer brought in a lock of that person’s hair, Bianca would incorporate it into the doll. This allowed them to control the person they wished to curse.
To keep the feel of the shop, Bianca had incense and cloves burning along with an audio CD of voodoo drums playing in the background. As she completed her inventory of the voodoo dolls, the door chime rang. Her newest customer must be a tourist and was uncomfortable being in the store. Bianca walked up to the woman and tried to put her at ease, “May I help you with something in particular?”
She let out a soft sigh, “A friend of mine suggested I visit one of these shops while I am down here. My husband passed away last year, and I am worried he is still on this earth instead of at peace.”
She looked at the woman and smiled while thinking to herself that this would be easy money. “Why don’t we see if we can summon up your husband’s spirit and ask him?”
She saw the woman hesitate, “Do you really think you can do that?”
“I can try.”
“How much do you charge?”
She placed the lady’s hands in hers, “I won’t charge you until we are done. I want to make sure that you are satisfied. If so, then we can talk price. Before we begin, I must ask the name of your husband.”
“George. George Holden.”
Bianca held out the chair for her newest customer and sat across from her. She chanted and slowly rocked back and forth, shaking a small brass rattle. Inside the rattle were small snake vertebrae bones. Her chanting turned to low mumbling and then she made herself clear once again. “Oh spirits, we humbly ask that you send the spirit of this woman’s beloved husband, George Holden, to join us.”
Time seemed to stand still for a moment before the candles in the room flickered. Bianca informed Mrs. Holden, “George is here with us.”
Mrs. Holden watched as the candles in the room continued to flicker and shadows danced on the wall. A cold draft swept across the room. Suddenly, the smell of her late husband’s cologne filled the room, bringing tears to her eyes.
Mrs. Holden asked out, “George? George is that really you?”
“George wants to let you know that he has moved on, and that he loves you very much.”
Her eyes stayed glued to Bianca, “Tell him that I love him very much too, and I miss him dearly.”
“He wants you to go and enjoy yourself on this cruise. You will make plenty of new friends.”
She let out a surprised gasp. “George isn’t upset with me for spending money on the cruise is he?”
She shook her head, “No. He wants you to go and don’t let Gloria make you feel guilty about going.”
She grasped Bianca’s hands, “Oh my. Thank you so much for doing this.”
Bianca smiled, “I am so glad you found the answers you were looking for.”
She took a tissue from her purse and dabbed at the tears in her eyes, “Oh, yes I did. Thank you so much. I felt guilty about going on the cruise, but not anymore. George was right; I was letting Gloria Anderson make me feel guilty about going on this trip. I was ready to call it off, but not now.”
“No, George and I both think this trip will do you a world of good. You will make plenty of new friends on this trip.”
She watched as the customer reached into her wallet and pulled out two crisp one hundred dollar bills. “Here, this is for you. I hope it is enough.”
Bianca smiled at the lady, “You are too kind. Thank you so much. When you get back, you must stop by and tell me all about it.”
“Yes, I will do just that.”
As the woman left her shop, two giggling college girls entered and she let out a groan. She doubted these two had any money and wanted a potion of some kind, more than likely a love potion.
“Can I help you ladies?”
“My friend here has a date, finally. I want to find her a charm that will help her get lucky.”
Bianca shook her head, “Mais non, she doesn’t need a charm for that. She needs to make him wait before sleeping with the young man.”
The young girl scoffed at her, “What, like until the second date?”
Bianca looked at the other young girl and informed her, “You must make a man desire you. The longer you make him wait, the more his desire for you will be.”
Her friend replied, “Yeah, right. He will just move on and find someone who will give him a piece of ass.”
Bianca folded her arms and stared at the girl scornfully, “Mais, this man may be special to your friend.” She turned and looked at the other young girl, “Do not rush into bed with this young man. Make him respect you first. He is obviously attracted to you or he wouldn’t have asked you out. Let him get to know you before you rush into bed with him.”
Bianca gently escorted the girl to the display she had set up of cowrie shells. She informed the young girl, “Don’t pay your friend no mind. You see these shells here. They are called cowrie shells. They are used for prosperity and love spells.”
The young girl picked up one and studied it intently. Bianca continued, “Each shell resembles a woman’s sexual center. I can use one of these if you desire to put a love spell on your young man.”
The girl looked at her in awe, “You seriously do spells?”
She looked directly into the girl’s eyes, “Voodoo is not something to be played with. The spells I conjure up are quite effective. The only time the effect becomes neutralized is when the person who asked for the spell doesn’t believe in voodoo.”
The young girl set the shell back down, “I don’t know about casting a spell.”
Her friend let out a laugh, “She is pulling your leg. This stuff doesn’t work. It is just for fun. Come on and find you a charm so we can go.”
Bianca waved her hands at the troublesome friend, wishing she could cast a spell on the girl and be done with her. Except they were paying customers and she didn’t want to lose a sale. “If you want I can give you a reading.”
The girl asked, “What kind of reading?”
“I can give you a tarot card reading or if you want we can cast the shells.”
“What do you mean cast the shells?”
“It is another way of fortune telling. It is a form of Obi Divination. You will cast the cowrie shells and the answer will come as the shells fall. Would you like a reading?”
She agreed, “It might be fun. Let’s give it a try.”
The young girls followed Bianca back to the small room she used for readings. Inside the room were dozens of candles and a strong smell of incense burning.
They sat around the small table. Bianca asked, “Do you want to know about the boy you are seeing tonight?”
The girl shook her head, “No, let’s do a general reading.”
“As you wish.” Bianca instructed her to shuffle the cards seven times. While waiting for her to shuffle the cards, she closed her eyes and rested her hands on the table, palms upward.
Once done, she instructed the young girl, “Cut the deck and hand me eleven cards, one at a time.”
Bianca laid out the first three cards, left to right. She arranged the remaining cards at North, East, South and West around the group of three.
Bianca studied the cards, “A new romance is in your future, but it is not from whom you suspect. However,” Bianca pointed to a card, “you must be careful of those you trust. Someone means to stop that romance.” Bianca looked at the other friend fairly certain this girl meant nothing but harm to her friend’s future.
The two girls giggled at the warning. Bianca pointed to another card, “This one is a seven of swords, and this card is the eight of staves. They talk of deception. You must be careful of those you trust with your secrets. But don’t give up hope because the cards also tell of heart, love and prosperity, a true connection in your future.”
After the last customer left for the day, Bianca felt restless and went for a walk. The evening sun felt good on her skin. The day had left her drained. She knew the two girls didn’t take much stock in what she had to say, but she had to warn the timid girl that her friend was up to no good.
With everyone getting off of work, the streets were congested. The local cafes were busy preparing for the dinner service, rushing to make sure the outdoor tables were ready. Street vendors were moving their carts off the road now that the lunch time rush was over. Only a few of the street vendors remained open after dark.
As she walked down Bourbon Street, she breathed in the air. She loved the nighttime in New Orleans. It became more festive at night; the air even seemed to change. Instead of the aromatic smell of coffee filling the air, it was a blend of spices and seafood from the restaurants cooking for their dinner service.
As she walked down Rampart Street, she observed the damage left behind from Hurricane Katrina. Several buildings still showed the true impact the hurricane had on the city. She could look up and see the flood lines on the buildings. In this area, there remained quite a few abandoned shops. Her grand-mere had been lucky that her shop in the French Quarter did not suffer as much damage as other businesses.
***
THAT NIGHT AS BIANCA slept, her grand-mere came to visit her. She sat on the edge of the bed and looked at Bianca with sadness in her eyes. “Trouble is coming your way. You must be ready. I know you have it inside of yourself to banish this evil from your life.”
Before Bianca could tell her not to worry, she faded away.