The Seer Renee (17 page)

I was getting dressed for my fortunetelling session with Angel, when my
phone rang.

"Renee, it's Ellen. I don't know how you did it, but thank you. I've
known Vicky since high school, and she's a dear friend. But over the past
several months, she had become reclusive and taken to drinking...anyway I've been
concerned and couldn't get her to talk to me. But after her session with you
she shared her...problems with me. I've set her up with a specialist. Thanks to
you, I think the situation is manageable." She was silent for a moment.
"If you ever need anything...anything, call me." The line went dead.

Angel was right on time, and dressed for a
hot time on the old town tonight
as the song went. "Good
evening, Angela. You looked dressed to turn heads," I said, admiring the
figure-strangling white skirt well above the knees and the semi-transparent
pale-green blouse which displayed her impressive breasts.

"Good evening, Mambo Renee. While I've got it, I'm going to flaunt
it. It ain't going to last forever. There'll come a day when strutting around
naked won't turn heads." She laughed. "But not today."

I couldn't help but laugh with her. I could understand men being drawn to
her like bees to flowers and not just for her killer figure. "Let hope I'm
half as entertaining as I'm sure you will be tonight," I said as I led her
to the table, got her settled, and put my hands over hers. Watching Angel's
future was like watching an XXX movie. Ironically, it was more enjoyable. She
must have had a hundred quaint or humorous sayings, judging from her male
companions' reactions in and out of the bedroom. I couldn't help an accessional
snort at her antics.

"Well, Angel, it appears you are in for another fun week..." I
paused as one of her pickups next Wednesday robbed her after having sex. She
gave him what she had in her purse without an argument—smart woman—but
he gave the condo a brief search and found a pile of bills in a bedside table,
then left. "Some of the boys don't mind robbing party girls because the
police won't spend a lot of time looking for them. I think you might stumble on
one of them in your rounds. They would search purses and obvious places like
table drawers."

She stared at me for a long time. "Yes, I've been having so much
fun, and the local boys are so sweet I forgot they can get greedy in the candy
store. Thanks. See you next Thursday.”

* * *

Friday morning around eight, my phone rang.

"Good morning, Mambo Renee. This is Jim Douglas. I'm a doctor at the
Tulane Medical Center," he said.

I grinned. "Yes, I vaguely remember meeting you. You're that lecherous
doctor who does house calls.”

"I thought I should make a follow up visit. I might have missed
something."

"Well, I do have an itch—"

"I'll be right over." He laughed. "Would you like to do
something tonight?"

"Why don't we eat out? It doesn't have to be fancy. Whenever you can
make it, Doctor Douglas."

"About seven p.m.?"

"I'll be ready."

* * *

 
Life seemed normal. I hadn't
heard or seen the Locos nor Ken and Sheila. My injuries had healed. My only
reminder was a few aches and pains when I raised my arms to reach for something
above my head. And I was in a serious relationship—very serious. Jim was
the kind of man you could take home to mother, if you had one. My eyes were
misty as I thought of Granny and how she would have liked him. I hadn't given
any thought to marriage over the past couple of years or how being a mambo
would impact the eligible men. Vodou—Voodoo—had a cult-like
reputation which would make me someone interesting to take to bed but not to
marry. And if the strange religion—to most—wasn't enough, running a
Voodoo store would be the final straw. Jim had managed to see "me"
the person. Best of all, he liked what he saw.

Sunday was almost like being married. Discussing the newspaper articles
over coffee and beignets—after a morning delight. We went grocery
shopping so I could cook us a mid-day dinner, and Jim accompanied me to my
evening service. He seemed to enjoy talking with my congregation and the
bystanders. Monday we spent some time at the park, went to the movies and saw
The Hunger Games, and ate an early dinner at the Red Fish Grill. Jim chose a
grilled swordfish, and I had flamed catfish. Afterward, he dropped me at home
and left to change for a night shift at the hospital.

The week went by slowly, or it seemed that way. In fact, it was a pretty
normal week. Customers came in waves. One hour I was busy with a store full of
people and thirty minutes later the store was empty. I had Oatha on Tuesday
night and Mr. Bishop on Wednesday. They were good customers and were content to
hear "everything looks good for the next couple of weeks." They
didn't expect or want little details fortunetellers throw in to show they can
see the future. They knew if I saw something important I'd tell them. I think it
felt extra slow because I was looking forward to seeing Jim. He did call once
to ask if I would enjoy seeing an opera, Marschner's
Der Vampyr
.. He had been true to his word about not crowding
me—too good. I was falling in love with the man and missed him during the
week. On reflection, maybe that was his plan, and he was too clever by half.

I prepared for my Thursday evening session with Angel and her upcoming
XXX movie. The woman was a sex machine. The thought made me wish it were Friday
and Jim would be free. Angel appeared right on time, dressed to turn men's mind
to mush in a very short, tight black shirt and a black sleeveless silk blouse
open nearly to her navel. Her long curly hair hung over her left shoulder
nearly to her breast.

"Good evening, Angela. You're looking particularly stunning
tonight."

"Good evening," she said as she entered. Rather than head for
the table, she stood staring at me for several minutes. "You're not so
phony."

"Pardon me?" The statement took me by surprise. I had never been
sure why she wanted weekly sessions as I felt she didn't take fortunetelling
seriously.

"One of my men friends raped me."

"Rape?" I hadn't seen that. How could that be, unless she
decided to do something unexpected after she left me last Thursday.

"What else would you call it when you give a man fantastic sex then
he robs you!" she said indignantly. "Fortunately, I took your good
advice, and he only got away with a few dollars. And he will find that two of
those bills are counterfeit." She laughed in amusement. "But what you
said wasn't just good advice, yeah? You saw."

"I thought I saw you being robbed, but not the details," I
said. A fake would take credit for any lucky guesses.

"Then you know what I do," she said more as a statement than a
question.

"You're a very talented and successful working girl." I smiled.

"Yes. Because I enjoy my work." She laughed and took a seat,
hands on the table. I had to admit I liked Angel. What she did was against the
law and many considered it immoral. But it was consensual. Her men customers
wouldn't usually be treated as criminals, and normal consensual sex between
unmarried couples wasn't a crime. I think it was a case of the lowest person on
the food-chain taking all the blame. I shook myself out of my musing and sat.

Mentally smiling, I followed Angel's adventures through the weekend and
into the week. I screamed, standing so abruptly I knocked over my chair and
slammed into the wall behind me. I stood trembling. Angel's face had turned a
ghostly white as she jumped to her feet.

"Are you all right? Can I help?" she asked, coming around the
table to stand near me. Even through my panicked mind, I realized why I liked
Angela. Most customers would be concerned about what would happen to
them—not me. Slowly, I got control of my panic.

"I'm sorry, Angela. You will witness a terrible...accident and it
shocked me. I'm sorry if it scared you. It just happened so suddenly. Please,
sit. Let me make sure you have no reason for concern." When she sat, I had
to control my urge to grab her hands. I fast forwarded to Wednesday and then
slowed down the scene. It was early morning, and Jim was just leaving his condo
complex and heading towards his car. Angela was standing out front apparently
waiting for someone, when I 'heard' gunshots and Jim was thrown backward and
fell holding his chest. Angela rushed to Jim while calling 9-1-1. I continued
to watch through her eyes as the emergency vehicle arrived and a man and a woman
jumped out. After a couple of minutes the woman shook her head. They loaded him
onto a stretcher with his head covered. There was no doubt that he had died.

I spent a minute deciding how I could get Jim to come over here for the
night, and then slowly went through Angela's week beginning at today. She
visited me again on Thursday, but on the following Wednesday she was standing
in the same place when Ron was shot. I took my hand off her and forced a smile
I didn't feel.

"Sorry, Angela. You're going to have another fantastic week, with no...rapes.
You might witness an accident but from afar."

"I'm warned, so I will be prepared. Unlike some, I do not like to
see others’ misery. I would help if I could, but staring isn't helping."
She smiled and left humming.

After locking the door, I sat trembling. The men who hired Ken and Sheila
hadn't gone anywhere. They had just designed a test of unbelievable evil. I
decided Angela was completely innocent. Someone had hired her to come to New
Orleans. They were paying her to have a fortunetelling session with me once
each week—and—to be in position to witness Jim, Ron, and Grace
being killed. If I could see the future, I would see Jim being shot. If I could
change the future I would do something so that Jim would not be coming home at
that time. If I did, then Ron would be the next target. I guess they reasoned
that I might be willing to let Jim get killed but not Jim, Ron, and Grace. If I
hadn't bothered to make an excuse to keep Ron away, Grace would be next.
Whoever they were, they had done their homework and knew the people close to
me. The real evil was that if I couldn't tell the future or change it, three
people would die. They intended to go through with it or else it wouldn't be her
future.

I managed to grind up a mixture of passion flower extract, valerian root,
and lemon balm which I took with a cup of black tea. I couldn't decide anything
with my mind in turmoil like it was now. Maybe after a good night's sleep I could
decide what I should do. Evil had won.

It was hardly surprising I woke with a splitting headache. This time I
didn't bother with herbs and took two Tylenol. I didn't need to be sedated; I
just needed to get rid of my headache so I could begin to think. Three cups of
coffee and an hour later, I felt like throwing up, but my headache was under
control.

The evil men had found me and had devised a test that would prove I had
my granny's ability to see and change the future. Committing suicide wasn't an
option, since it wouldn't guarantee that Jim, Ron, and Grace wouldn't be
killed. My antagonists might not be able to call it off, and if they could,
what guarantee did I have that they would? They were evil and might kill my
friends out of spite.

I couldn't call the police. I would have to tell them the truth. After I
convinced them, the world would know my secret, and I wouldn't be safe
anywhere. Who wouldn't want to know their future or what would happen tomorrow,
so they could capitalize on it today. I didn't think that was why I had been
gifted with the ability to see the future. Of course, I could help far more
people if people knew I could, but how could I sort through the millions of
requests for help and determine those I should, while avoiding those who would
like to put me in a cage. My headache was back, and I took two more Tylenol.

I kept the shop closed while my mind searched for a solution. The morning
dragged into the afternoon. One thing was for sure, I didn't have a lot of time
to come up with an answer. I had to stop Jim from being killed. Right on cue,
the phone rang. When I looked up, it was four o'clock, and I knew it was Jim.

"Yes?" I said while trying to make up my mind what to tell him.

"It's the doctor who is hoping to be the man of your dreams,
offering to take you anywhere your heart desires," he said. I couldn't
help the tears or the sobs. My enemies had made that an impossible dream just
like they had destroyed Granny's dream of watching her granddaughter mature,
and her great-grandchildren become adults.

"What's wrong, Renee?"

"Nothing... Everything..."

"I'll come right over—"

"No. If you are going to be home tonight, I'll come over. I need to
talk."

"What me to pick you up?"

"No. I need time to... The walk will be good. I'll see you
later," I said and hung up. I had no choice but to tell him the truth...some
of the truth...something. He was involved whether he wanted to be or not, and
it was my fault. My selfishness. Thoughtlessness. I reached for the Tylenol
bottle and found it empty. I laid my head on the table and cried. When I jerked
awake, it was dark. I had a quick shower, dressed, and left for Canal Street.
As I walked, I began watching the people coming and going. They knew a lot
about me. Was I being followed? Would they kidnap me—like now? I stopped
walking and turned in circles looking for...something, someone. Of course, some
people were looking at me. I was standing in one spot turning in circles. I
began running. By the time I reached Jim's complex, I was panting and my heart
racing. When I entered the lobby, the man on duty recognized me.

"Good evening, Ms. Mathur. Can I get you something? Maybe you should
sit for a moment," he said, looking concerned. Looking into the mirrored
surface behind him, it was no wonder. I was gasping like a fish out of water,
and all the color had drained from my face. And I felt light headed and
probably was none too steady on my feet.

"No, thank you. I probably overdid my run. I'll be fine," I
said as I stepped into the elevator. I was a bit steadier when I stepped out of
the elevator. I shouldn't have been surprised to find Jim was in the hallway. The
man in the lobby probably called him.

"What's wrong?" He put his arm around me for support as we made
our way to his unit. Once inside, he led me to the couch and spent a few
minutes examining me—my eyes, pulse, and general inspection for injuries.
"Are you feeling sick? You've been running. Did something frighten you... My
God, did someone attack you?" He sat down next to me and pulled me close.

"No. There are some people after me, and I let my imagination get
the better of me while walking here and panicked."

"I thought you told me your FBI friend, Grace, had the group under
investigation. Certainly, that will stop them. They aren't going to be active
while an investigation is ongoing."

"No, not that group. Another group. One far worse. That group wanted
to close all of the Voodoo shops and chase the practicing mambos and houngans
out of N’Orleans. This group wants me!"

"Why you?" Jim said with concern in his voice. "What did
you do to them?"

"I can tell the future. They want me for something they are
planning," I said, grabbing his hand in desperation.

"Love, I think your kidnapping has had more of a psychological
impact then we realized. It's not surprising considering what that maniac put
you through. You just need time."

"No. There is another group, and they are going to kill you unless I
help them."

"No one is going to kill me. I think your past kidnapping and
torture has developed into a frightening hallucination. You need to talk this
out with a professional."

I laughed, which didn't help my credibility. "I'll prove it," I
said, trying to gain a little composure. "Give me your hands."

Jim loosened his grip on me and reluctantly held out his hands. I grasped
them like a drowning woman would grasp at a lifesaver ring. I closed my
eyes—nothing. Nothing. Not one picture. "No!" I screamed.

"What's wrong?"

"Granny couldn't tell her own fortune or mine, because I was family.
I can't tell my fortune and... I can't tell yours because I'm in love with
you," I said.

"That's good, isn't it?" He forced a smile.

"Jim, I'm not crazy," I pleaded.

"I know. You're in shock. A delayed reaction," he said as he
helped me to my feet while dialing. "I'm Doctor Douglas, please send an
ambulance to 1201 Canal Street. I have a patient that needs transportation to
Tulane Medical Center.” I didn't need to go to a hospital. I needed him to
listen to me. I tried several times to explain, but he wasn't listening.
Downstairs, I was strapped onto a stretcher and whisked away in an ambulance.
At the hospital, I was injected with something and soon didn't care.

* * *

When I woke, I was in a bed and could smell antiseptics. I lay with my
eyes closed trying to put the events of last night into perspective. I had been
hysterical, and Jim in his concern for me had me rushed to the hospital and
sedated. I opened my eyes, to find Jim curled, half asleep in an uncomfortable
looking chair with my hand in his. I squeezed his hand. The man was a gem.
After last night he should be running away from me as fast as he could.

"You're awake. How do you feel? You had me worried last night."
He rose and kissed me lightly on the lips. "I've talked to a
respected—"

"My love, I'm sorry I scared you last night. You were right to be
concerned. I panicked. And"—I laughed—"when I discovered
how much I loved you, it made it worse—"

"Why? How is loving me...causing a problem?"

"Jim, get me released from here. You did the right thing last night,
but I've calmed down. I want to hold services tonight, for my congregation and
me. Would you do a favor for the woman who loves you?"

"... For her I'd do anything." He smiled. "You've got me
twisted around your little finger."

"Arrange for a get together with you, me, Ron, and Grace. I'd like
to meet tonight after my service. Grace will understand it relates to questions
she has had and will know it's important. And I promise you the woman you think
you want to marry isn't crazy, although she did act like that last night. You
wanted to know everything about me, well tonight you will get to see it all."
I put my hand to his lips before he could respond. "Please, trust
me."

* * *

Jim got me released in the early afternoon and took me to for an early
dinner. The poor man was treating me like a fragile piece of antique china.
"I called Grace Casey and introduced myself as your...steady...you did say
you loved me." He paused waiting my response.

"Yes. I did and I meant it. And you're stuck with me for so long as
you are interested," I said, kissing his cheek.

"You were right. She did appear to understand and agreed she and her
husband would meet with us after your service. I hope you don't mind, but I
told her a little about last night."

"No. I don't mind. It must have been scary, and you are right to
still be concerned."

"Anyway, she surprised me. She and Ron are coming to your service tonight.
She said it would give us a chance to get to know each other before whatever
you wanted to discuss. And she and Ron had never seen a Voodoo service."

"That's great. It doesn't matter to me that people think Vodou a
cult. My friends and those I love know I believe in one God, in Vodou being a
reasonable way to honor that one God, and in helping people in God's
name." I smiled. "I didn't say he or she because I don’t know which
and seriously doubt God has a sex."

Jim laughed. "A valid point. I hope you don't think you are going to
scare me off. I've caught you, and I'm not letting go. You're a keeper."

* * *

Jim dropped me off at home so I could wash, dress, and give some thought
to my evening service. He came back in time to take me to the service with time
to talk to those attending the service or there just to watch. When we arrived,
Grace and Ron were already there.

"Mambo Renee," Grace said as we approached. "You look
well." She gave me a hug.

"You look spectacular," Ron said, giving me a hug and kiss on
the cheek.

"Grace, Ron, this is Jim. The man who insists he wants to marry
me," I said, wishing it would come true but knowing it
wouldn't—couldn't. "I'm glad y’all decided to come watch. It will be
different from what you are probably accustomed, but Jim knows enough to
outline what is happening. Afterward, I'll answer any questions. Vodou is one
of my favorite topics."

I left them talking and wandered around talking to my congregation, their
guests, and those spectators who seemed interested. As a result, it was well
past seven when I finally began
to draw
the
ve've for Legba-Papa Labas to open the gates between the Loa
and those attending the ceremony. Then I drew the ve've for Papa Loko. Tonight,
I would seek Papa Loko, the father of all mambos and houngans and known as a
just judge. I felt the need to be judged for my actions tonight and those to
come.

As I danced and sang, I could feel
Papa Loko's presence, and although he was known to be harsh when things were
not done properly, I felt nothing. Energy filled me and everything seemed to get
quiet and butterflies fluttered around my head—Loko's symbol. And
although I spun and undulated in response to the energy that filled me, I felt
at peace, serenity so deep it spread into every molecule of my body. When I
stopped, several people had collapsed onto the floor, others appeared dazed,
and butterflies had landed on me.

* * *

I spent another hour talking with
people about their experiences, about the ceremony, and Vodou. Everyone was
quiet in the car on the way back. Jim stopped to pick up two large pizzas. When
we arrived, we retired to Jim's unit.

Grace was first to speak, "The
butterflies...?" A question rather than a statement.

"I don't know, Grace. I would tell
you I prayed to the Loa...saint who is a judge of right and wrong. I prayed for
guidance for tonight and what is to come. Butterflies are his symbol. Before
you jump to conclusion about trickery." I held up my hand to stop any
comments. "I need to explain why I asked you all here tonight. It will
answer many of your questions."

"Yes, it did seem like
trickery. And now you say you prayed to a Loa whose symbol is a butterfly, it
screams trickery, but that would be so unlike you," Ron said and Jim
nodded agreement.

"You don't have to, Renee. I
believed you when you said it would be a death sentence," Grace said.
Jim's eyes darted between Grace and me.

"Death sentence?" He
stuttered. I took his hand in mine.

"Yes. And now you three have
become involved. I scared my love to death last night because I panicked and
became incoherent. So let me start at the beginning." I picked up a piece of
pizza and took a bite, which prompted everyone to start eating. Jim put a
couple of bottles of wine on the table, and I poured myself a glass. Everyone
was going to need several by the time I finished.

"My granny could see the
future and to some degree change it. A gift, or a curse as it turned out, from
the Loa to her mother who passed it to her. Granny should have passed it to my
mother but didn't because she felt my mother would have abused the gift. She
felt it was meant to be used to help people but had always been very careful
not to let people know the clarity with which she could see the future and the
degree to which she could influence it."

"But if the future is
set—"

"Please. Let me finish.
Somehow, someone discovered that she had the gift. They approached Granny and
wanted her to use the gift to do something she considered evil. Not merely an
abuse of the gift, but evil. When she refused, they threatened to kill me if
she didn't cooperate. Somehow she convinced them she would. She spent the time
getting me ready for her death and then committed suicide." I stopped for
a couple of bites out of my pizza and a couple of sips of wine.